The Answer to the Irresistable Language Builder Moment ... from my bloggito on Wednesday...



The answers, in order, are in this sentence:



The angry, hungry silver-eyed monster grabbed its jerky and smothered it in ketchup.



The word ketchup has its roots originally in Malay, but it came to American English via the Chinese. It used to mean any of a variety of fish sauces, and I guess the Indonesian red fish sauce is still called something like ket-jap.



Here is what EtymOnline.com has to say:

ketchup

    1711, from Malay kichap, from Chinese (Amoy dial.) koechiap "brine of fish." Catsup (earlier catchup) is a failed attempt at Anglicization, still in use in U.S. Originally a fish sauce, early English recipes included among their ingredients mushrooms, walnuts, cucumbers, and oysters. Modern form of the sauce began to emerge when U.S. seamen added tomatoes.

Finally, Reportage on the April 15 Peace Marches:



There were millions and millions of people on the street two weekends ago, and they weren't kicking Firefighters in the kidneys because the Raiders sucked at the Superbowl-- they actually had a purpose. The Bush administration was given notice that it shouldn't even think of starting a preemptive war on Iraq.



My boss was in Rome that weekend. I work at an international gay organization. The last time I was in Rome with my boss we were organizing a conference on fundamentalism and homophobia in concordance with the World Pride 2000 festivities, for which Rome saw the most rainbow flags in its streets ever... thanks to the rainbow flag inventor Gilbert bringing about a ton of flags for people to carry... My boss and I marched with Gilbert and watched how moved he was to see how Rome had adopted his symbol. If only he had been there on April 15. 1.5 million (by police) to 3 mil (by organizers) were counted in the streets of Rome, most of them with their happy little rainbow flag in hand.



Here is my transcription of comments by my boss when I asked him about his experience in Rome that day:

Almost everyone in Rome had rainbow flags with the word "pace" in white on it. The whole city was there. Even people who came from outside Rome had the flag with "pace" on it. It was really organized. I went to buy bread and the lady in the shop asked if I was there for the march. There were people from all over the country who had come. There were no problems with the police. Rome almost always has protests of about 1 million people, every week, for organic farming and stuff. But this was the largest ever protest in Rome. It was a very festive atmosphere. People were singing, everyone said they had a good time. It was about three miles, but they kept changing the route on the way because it was too many people to keep on the route they originally planned, which was too short. They kept going around different blocks to get people to be able to walk instead of just standing- the people who came later had to walk a long way. It was pretty cold, about 45 F -- a lot of people had the rainbow flags wrapped around them. I don't know how they had decided on the rainbow flag. The Catholic Church was one of the main catalysts for getting people to march. Maybe it was a gay person on the organizing committee and the church didn't realize. Everyone seemed really happy. They all had their rainbow flags with them, even the people coming in from the country on the train. There aren't usually very many rainbow flags in Rome, even in June (Gay Pride Month). Everyone put their rainbow flag outside their window in their apartments later. Well, 90% of the people in the Catholic Church in Rome are gay, anyway. It's either lesbian nuns or gay priests who probably decided- hey let's have a rainbow flag!

Yay gay nuns and priests for peace! Now, a little reportage from a SlackerStalker reporter who was in the field in NYC April 15:

One of the cheeriest sights was the Glamericans, with their eye-searing wigs and Fifties movie-star sunglasses, chanting "Money for shopping, not bomb-dropping!" and carrying signs like "PEACE - It's the New Black!" and "War is tacky, darling!" One arresting individual in rhinestone shoulder pads and a Godawful yellow feather headdress had a sequined sign that said, "Honey, I *am* the bomb!"

Look at (and read about) the Glamericans on their website --unfortunately the photos seem to be only from the DC protest, which was more frozen and therefore more bundled in wool, therefore less glamorous.



And... a Little Bonus Bloggito...

A Nonpolitical but yet Irresistable Language Builder Moment with the SlackerStalker

A tip of the hat to my women witches' mailing list, which is full of linguists who have been plagueing us with these sorts of questions lately.



1. What are the two words (in mainstream usage) in English which end in "-gry"?



2. Everyone knows there is no English rhyme for the English word "orange." What is the other word which is both a noun and an adjective (describing a color) for which there is no rhyme?



3. What is the one very-American-English-sounding word American English has borrowed from Quechua, the language of the Incas, and is still spoken today in Peru? (Hint One: "ts?arky" is how it's pronounced, with "?" being a glottal stop; Hint Two: it passed into English via cowboys who had contact with the indigenous people.)



4. What is a word borrowed from Chinese-- specifically Guangdonghua/ Cantonese-- for a common food item, that is not generally recognized as a loan word? (Hint: for the Prarie Home Companion listeners-- it has "natural mellowing agents." But now you all know the answer.)

The Women's History Guerrilla History Project Is Coming To Town...

And it knows if you've been bad or good...



I don't have time to go find and post my collected accounts from last weekend's marches yet, so to tide you over some more, here is something from the wonderful last holdover of the direct action feminist public education projects of the 1990's (anyone remember "WAC is Watching"?). Quoting from an announcement I just got:

The Women's Guerrilla History Project (we say the WGHP acronym "whoop!") is a group of women, girls and transgendered women who wish to see a more visible & public presence of women's history and accomplishments. To celebrate Women's History Month (March) and International Women's Day (March 8), we create posters of inspirational women and plaster them all over San Francisco Bay area. Our goal is that everyday people will see our posters, learn more about women's history, and question why women's diverse achievements are often unknown. Some subject matter by participants has included: religious leaders, martial artists, political prisoners, artists, mathemeticians and family members.



See our website for more info on making posters, our history, and wheat-pasting.



We will be meeting Friday, March 7th at Cafe La Boheme (3318 24th Street, across from 24th St. BART), at 8 PM. We generally hang out and talk to each other for about an hour and admire the posters, then swap posters and split up into groups to fan across the city. rain does NOT cancel! see you then.....



contact email: sfwomen2003@yahoo.com

180 Pictures of Over 125 Protests



I have a longer blog in the drafting, with eyewitness accounts from friends who were in Rome and New York, but meanwhile satiate yourself with this page that has collected a bazillion photos of this past weekend's protests.

Signs of the Other 44%



The news tonight says that 66% of US Americans approve of a war on Iraq-- only with our allies' support, but still. Well, the other 44% represented by about 250,000 people marched in San Francisco today, and I was drawn into the vortex with my little notepad and pen.



Here are some of the signs I saw (or heard of):



My friend Anna's intellectual Jewish father's sign:

Unilateral preemption -- a fatal precedent.



My other friend Anna's intellectual Jewish father's sign:

(A figure of Bush posed like "Uncle Sam" pointing his finger at you, wearing a Bin Laden beard and headgarment) I Want YOU for Al Queda... Bush says to Iraqis

On the back: War Will Recruit Terrorists



Another similar sign I saw:

Orphans Make Good Terrorists



Here's another intellectual sign:

Returned Peace Corps Volunteers for a Responsible Foreign Policy



I looked for the sexy/ perverted signs and the march was found lacking. This is the best I could do:



Brazilian Bikini Waxers Against Bush



...and this one which on second thought wasn't meant in the spirit me and my friends first took it...

Stop The War-- I Want To Get Off



Along with the

Food Not Bombs, and

Books Not Bombs, there were

Boobs not Bombs t-shirts-- on some chesty women, too.


There were quite a variety of identity-based slogans:

Midwives Say Push Hard for Peace



and...

11-year-olds...

Mullets...

Mohawks...

Straight White Men...

and
Cleavage For Peace.



As far as LGBTQ identity placards, I only saw Dykes For Peace, and Voting Queer Rancher for Peace. The latter wasn't the voting queer rancher trannydyke friend who I was hoping to run into at the march... she was able to find one of the queer contingents to sherpa her through the mob.



Along with the old standbys Regime Change Begins At Home and Have Another Pretzel, some of my other sign favorites were:


Don't Be Fuelish

Use Duct Tape for Homeland Security (with Bush's mouth taped)

Little lapel ribbons someone was making out of duct tape

War Hurts Kittens-- Won't Someone Please Think of the Kittens!

Afros Against the War (and the sign-carrier had a massive Afro, for emphasis)

Giants Fans For Peace-- Throw Bush Out At Home

(Two signs together) Nice People Against Icky Stuff -- with a plastic sunflower dotting the "i" in "nice" -- and

Smart Asses for Peace. ...The "nice person" had added in tiny print at the bottom: ...and I'm single!

It's a Fine Line Between Colin Powell and Colonial Power

Empty Warheads Found in Washington (with pictures of Bush, Powell, and Rumsfield)

A Do Not Enter sign with IRAQ taped into the middle

Cockroaches For Armageddon

Mong Fish Not War (i.e. -- fishmongering / warmongering)

War is Sweet To Those Who Haven't Tasted It -- Erasmus

Whoa Cowboy!

(in large print) Only One Country Has Used Nuclear Weapons (and much smaller) It Was Not Iraq

Lots of depictions of gas pumps as guns, including one person in a gas mask holding an actual gas pump nozzle to her temple,

and

VETO si'l vous plait!



There were a lot of signs made in French and other languages thanking the nations which are fighting the US war effort. I think this was the first US march I've been in where people carried UN flags and French flags... usually there is no faith put in any governing power by demonstrators.



There were a lot of good efforts put into magnificent-but-invisible signs made of clear plastic and duct tape. The US flag made of tiny duct tape stars and stripes on cellophane was wonderful, but a waste of effort for how it disappeared among flashy color signs.



There was a contingent of sweet, quiet geeks in front of the (comparatively loud and charismatic) Quaker Friends where I was marching. The geeks had signs written in black ballpoint on the kind of cardboard that you find in the package of manila envelopes you buy at Walgreens. One of their catchy slogans was Algebra Not War. Someone needs to introduce them to the Graphic Designers Against War.



My placard was from the American Friends Service Committee/ Quaker contingent. It was something like Interfaith Communities for Peace and Justice. Which brings me to my...



Slacker Stalker's Rules for Marching in a Mob Against Something

(for me as much as you.)



1. READ YOUR OWN SIGN. I am not sure what mine said, except that it didn't offend me. I went up to people with Draft SUV Drivers signs to give them some fake "tickets" for SUV gas-guzzlers (see my blog from a few days ago)-- about half of them seemed foggy on why I was picking them out to give them anti-SUV protest materials.



2. Writing a sign with each letter in a different rainbow color LEAVES YOU WITH AN INVISIBLE YELLOW LETTER. Just don't do it. Black, or dark green or dark red (which are black to the average eye in dim light) on white or a yellow/ tawny color is the very most visible combination.



3. The People, United, Will Run Eachother Over. Respect wheels (on chairs, baby carriages, whateveh), and respect the laws of physics regarding disparate matter not being able to occupy the same space. Your unwieldy backback gives you a backward wingspan (spinespan?) of about four extra feet, which you can use as a weapon to knock over a whole herd of skinny suburban ladies with one quick pivot. Do not use your body, bag, sign, baby carriage, or wheel chair as battering rams. Say excuse me, pardon me, scuzi, sneeze, blow a whistle, ANYTHING-- just don't push and bolt through a crowd. And think about bringing a smaller knapsack than the one you used to hike all of Bohemia last summer.



4. WRITE ON BOTH SIDES OF YOUR SIGN. We are all behind you. We will not run to find out what you are projecting forward to the two people who are turning around to see how far behind their friends are. We will more likely stop and wait for you to pass so we can read the back. I saw one hard-working pair carrying a whole huge canvas on a wooden frame with a nice black-on-yellow Bush Knew About 9-11... with an afterthought-- No War-- scribbled on the back.



5. TISSUES and PLASTIC BAGS are wasteful consumer products which you MUST BRING on every march. You WILL generate stains and garbage, unless you are Martha Stewart, in which case you like the status quo and won't be marching against anything.



6. RESPECT THE MIC at the rally before or after the march. The one time you are shouting over the speeches to your friends on the other side of the field is going to be the one time that celebrity guest speaker will be sitting on the public transit vehicle as you part from your friends and make your way back to the suburbs. Listen to what the rally speakers are saying so that you can have a palsywalsy bantering moment with Bonnie Raitt, Joan Baez, or Dolores Huerta later on. You think I'm kidding? I rode home tonight next to one of the speakers, still wearing her credentials badge. She looked like Dolores Huerta, but since I didn't get close enough to see the rally stage, and didn't really listen very well to the speakers, I couldn't tell if it was really her, or say anything pithy in response to her speech.



I will try-- if you will- to have better marching habits. As the Rosies the Riveters contingent said today-- We Can Do It!

From the same people who brought you the wonderful "Regime Change Begins At Home" poster that I put up this last election season:

"Inspections Work. War Won't." Keep your eyes open for this MoveOn.org slogan on billboards around the US.



The brilliant and radical artist Art Spiegelman suddenly left The New Yorker this month because of how conservative they've gotten, but I think it's mainly the covers that have been getting the war-spirit. The cover of the latest edition (Feb. 10) has a forlorn male soldier under war planes and surrounded with guns reading a bright little Valentine's card-- it looks like 1940's WWII pro-war propoganda; however, the first article in "Talk of the Town" by Hendrik Hertzberg ends with this:

The other day, Secretary of State Colin Powell was reminded that his boss {G.W.B., he means} is in bed by ten and sleeps like a baby. Powell reportedly replied, "I sleep like a baby, too-- every two hours I wake up screaming."

Earlier in the article he puts a quote from our Oily Shrub's State of the Union - a glib characterization of extrajudicial executions of the enemy - "Let's put it this way: they are no longer a problem to the United States and our friends and allies" - in juxtaposition with a favorite maxim of Saddam Hussein--- "If there is a person, then there is a problem. If there is no person, then there is no problem."



Creepy much?

How to Stalk - and Ticket - Gas Guzzler SUVs for Sport and Edification



I was in a semi-serious car accident recently, and today I found out it was a "light van" who attacked the parked-in-traffic line of four cars, causing us all to rear-end eachother. So, for the record, this isn't a grudge match. If it was an SUV who attacked us, the insurance investigator would have just said so.



On the other hand, I was in a minor confrontation with an SUV owner earlier today, when I offered the rest of my bellydancing class "tickets" to go around with which to tag their neighborhood gas hogs -- fake parking tickets that suggest that the owner should contact the manufacturer and ask them to make more fuel-efficient cars. Apparently, her SUV had been ticketed more than once with these things. It was also apparent that she hadn't read the ticket to see that it wasn't calling her a terrorist-- it's just asking her to use her ownership to advocate for better construction in future vehicles, and reconsider owning the one she has. Boy, it is hard to be too aggrivated having to defend my activism to an SUV owner. Especially one who dances like she has a 3-foot pole up her butt. And the rest of the class took handfuls of "tickets" on the sly before they left. I understand that some people actually need and use off-road vehicles and work hard to not take up more than their fair share of room on the road, carpooling and biking and so forth, but does ANYONE need a car that only gets 10 miles to the gallon? Is that defensible in ANY moral terms, when we are about to resume bombing a country only to get control of their oil reserves?



Anyway, these tickets are WAY fun. I don't ticket any one car twice, and I don't ticket the cars with which I actually don't mind sharing the road- the ones I can see around. I don't ticket in daylight, and I especially look for SUVs with US flags on them.



HERE is the Project Underground web page with PDFs of the wonderful tickets that read (in part):

VIOLATION: Gas Guzzling Fuels Terrorism and War; Drunk driving puts lives at risk-- and so does driving an SUV. Oil dependence drives conflicts that kill innocent people. Please take a moment to consider the true costs of driving and SUV, and reconsider owning one. [...] Please contact the manufacturer of your SUV today and ask them to build more fuel-efficient vehicles. Contact your elected officials and tell them we should not fight a war for oil.

Project Underground & Global Exchange would be MOST grateful if you asked them to mail you some of their gazillion "tickets" - for free! Just call them at 1-800-497-1994 x 230. And remember...



--- if broccoli was the number one export from the Middle East, we wouldn't be invading Iraq!

Today on Slackervision:

TWO GUN MOVIES SHOOT IT OUT - Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver (1976) Vs. Rob Marshall's Chicago (2002)



THE LESBIAN MOVIE STANDARD (which requires two female actors to have at least one conversation about something other than a man):

Taxi Driver - surprisingly, no. (That's sarcasm.)

Chicago - surprisingly (to me, unfamiliar with the musical), yes. Solid.



THE JESUS FIGURE (which almost always exists in every mainstream movie, bringing at least one character to death or the brink of death and bringing her/him back to a greater glory):

Taxi Driver - Travis (de Niro)

Chicago - both Roxie and Velma, on death row in the movie (Zellweger and Zeta-Jones)



THE GAY CHARACTER (usually the only character that registers on gaydar, a standby in movies since the 90's):

Taxi Driver - Albert Brook's character. But that was a hard one to pick. I spotted him because he's the goofy sidekick, always a good candidate for the Gay Character.

Chicago - Mama! Queen Latifah! Those breasts should've gotten nominated for SOME kind of best supporting role.



P.S. Who the hell is Rob Marshall? - why, he did Annie for the Disney Channel in 1999, surely you couldn't forget THAT! Well, Chicago has put him on the map, so to say.

The Slacker Stalker Hall of Fame of Whacky Performance Art Spaces that Survived the San Francisco Dot Bomb Today Honors...
(drumroll)



A deep curtsy to the geniuses of...

CELLspace! ...for its transwoman-organized women's skills-building "do it herself" workshops, having creatively decorated iMacs for anyone to freely access the internet (regardless of how you look or if you have a home), for being a great place to have a rollerskating party or political puppetry workshop, and a reliable source of alternative circus entertainment. Their next endeavor, tonight, is an evening infoshare discussion on squatter's rights. Motto for the event: "don't let houses rot." I know they had a fundraiser in the Dot Bomb times to keep the space open, and since that usually spells DOOM for every other space, I bet they worked their asses off to stay. Plus they save money by never heating the place.

Gross Vocab Builder Moment; or,

The Saponification of Mrs. Ellenbogen



Some people become worm food when they die, some people fish food. Some people, or at least one lady in the 19th century from Philly- SOAP.

The phenomenon is called adipocere: it turns some corpses into a waxy, soap-like substance, depending on factors such as humidity, temperature, the presence of clothing and bacterial activity. The fatter the person, the greater the chance saponification will occur.



Here's another article, but with gruesome photographs for your Monday morning viewing pleasure.

John Lennon - a much publified Beatle



Out of Liddypol came this wonderfoul poem (from John Lennon In His Own Write, c. 1964) that I've been wanting to share with you, my responsible citizen readers, because of the clever and frisky use of the Latin verb "to love."

Alec Speaking



He is putting it lithely when he says

Quobble in the Grass,

Strab he down the soddieflays

Amo amat amass;

Amonk amink a minibus,

Amarmylaidie Moon,

Amikky mendip multiplus

Amighty midgey spoon.

And so I traddled onward

Careing not a care

Onward, Onward, Onward.

Onward, my friends to victory and glory for the thirtyninth.

(Please do not truffle yourself to look for hidden meanings.)

"Something Broke" - Reentry at Mach 18 - and a Love Spell



I was getting myself together to do a little blogging about love spells when I turned on NPR quietly and gradually these words pierced my sense of morning torpor like a fresh volley of the Chinese New Year firecrackers that woke me up at 7:30 am...

Blackout

Mach 18

Reentry

Columbia

Debris

NASA

No information

No explosion

Only break-apart

Seven astronauts

I worked with them for a year and a half; there is no information as to whether they are alive.

Now they are talking about the forensic investigation, and the potential danger to civilians who might try to handle debris that landed on their property.



The first article I came across declares the seven astronauts dead.



Watching the Blue Angels in their vertical aerobatics while sitting in a tarot workshop on interpreting The Lovers card, I suddenly grasped how much love is about the lurching, the sharp ascents and descents. You don't notice love until something forces it into a mercurial climb or fall. And then you understand that the tarot card The Lovers is not all about baked peaches with brown sugar delivered to your bedside with a tea rose in a vase. It's loss, and grief, and dramatic gestures, overacting. It is not a controlled, humble, balanced card. In fact, I've come to believe it represents nothing but the roller coaster of trust gained and lost, and that it has more to do with trust between two people than real understanding. You can trust a person, but do you ever really understand them?



Well seven families, a thousand close friends, and ten thousand people waking up in each succeeding time zone turning on their radios and TVs are feeling that lurch of a formation nose-dive. There is no understanding. And what trust we had in space flight has burned up in reentry. But then, as with Challenger, we will pick up our half-staff flags, hoist them high, and march on unquestioning. What, after all, does anyone know about space flight. As T.S. Eliot said, there is nothing but the trying.



And as in high flying space crafts, so in love. With that, I bring you lovelorn bloggers the formula I use for my very reliable love spells. (I don't do prosperity spells or finding-lost-object spells very well, but I am pretty much a sure thing for love spells and home-finding spells-- I fear loneliness and homelessness more than poverty and losing dear objects.) Remember that these seven astronauts did not fail in their mission: they dreamed, they did, they TRIED. In their heroic passing they give us an object lesson for daring to seek your heart's desire regardless of the consequences.



The basic set of rituals you need to do are 1. the clearing out, 2. the defining of non-negotiables, 3. the inviting in, and 4. the giving thanks.



1. The clearing out: EVERYONE has a love-relationship-conflict that needs to heal. Heal a little so that you have room to give a little. You know you have something to heal.



In meditative space, envision this: you go to the foot of a golden tree with honey for sap. Find a box and open it: find a protective robe from your spirit guide. Put it on and then find yourself in a crystal palace. This is a safe place. Call the spirits of the primary person who has hurt you in a conflict in a love-relationship (not necessarily a romance). Tell her/him everything in your heart that you want her/him to hear. Then thank her/him for bringing you this lesson. Then tell her/him that s/he can talk if s/he wants to. S/he may have things to say, s/he may not. Say
goodbye. Then either call in another spirit, or leave the crystal palace.



2. The Defining of Non-Negotiables: you know you have them.



Make a list of the things you absolutely can't live without in a love-partner. I recommend you make this as detailed as you want. The longest list I made still was answered, except for one or two key things, which I (at the time and later) realized were fair life-lessons for me. I DO RECOMMEND YOU SPECIFY GENDER if you care about that sort of thing. Some people have not defined gender and have quickly found their formerly-straight asses decked out in feathers and being marched down main street in a Gay Pride parade. This is something that you may or may not feel is a fortunate turn of events.



3. The Inviting In-- making these qualities YOU.



Now memorize your list. Chant it. Read it forwards and backwards outloud start-to-finish. Then take a spoonful of honey that you have on hand and eat it all up. You are in-toning, bringing IN TO YOURSELF the qualities you are seeking in another, and making yourself sticky and sweet like honey to that partner who is buzzing around looking for YOU. You want an honest partner? Time to make yourself as honest as you can be. Like attracts like. You may not dye your hair red if you are seeking a red-head, but you will get in touch with your inner-red-head, and that's never a bad thing to do.



4. The Giving Thanks--- don't forget your p's and q's!



The Goddess Oshun, the love goddess whose honey you ate, does appreciate your appreciation. When you get that partner that you called to you, please burn or bury your list of non-negotiables and say thank you to the forces that brought good love into your life.