Two Left Feet
Monday, March 24, 2003
I'm having dinner tonight with Arianna Huffington. Oh, boy! I'm excited.
POST-DINNER UPDATE: Arianna Huffington informed the waitress in a very serious tone that she would break out in hives and need to be carried off in a stretcher if any garlic or onions were present in her meal. After the waitress went off to speak with the chef about her food requirements, Ms. Huffington chuckled and told us, "That's the only way to make sure they don't put any in your food. If you just say you don't like garlic or onions, they'll ignore you." The whole table laughed- and her meal contained no onions or garlic.
My fantasy for the evening was that I would tell Arianna Huffington about UNC's renewable energy campaign, that she would then write about it in her column, and then we'd be famous. Someone did bring it up, and Ms. Huffington asked me to email her more information about it. I won't get my hopes up- perhaps she was just being polite- but it is nice to have one's fantasies come to pass, at least somewhat.
Arianna Huffington's political transformation fascinates me: "I believed in the power of the free market, of the invisible hand," she said in her speech Monday evening, "But then I realized that the free market is not free- it is entirely rigged." What is it like to decide that most of your core ideologies are wrong? Is it exhilirating? Heart-breaking? Both?
After dinner, one of the co-chairs of the Student Environmental Action Coalition mentioned to me that only a few years ago, she was in the College Republicans. "What happened?" I asked. She answered in a straightforward manner, "I got tired of people who could not logically back up their arguments."
I plan to pick my friend's brain some more about her transformation; meanwhile, here's Arianna Huffington's description of it.
Saturday, March 22, 2003
Down on Rosemary Street
Friday, March 21, 2003
US bombs Iraq, domestic situation goes down tubes
A recent "This Modern Cartoon" reads, "I am outraged by the determination of an unelected president to drag us into an unnecessary war! AND I am outraged by his assertion that we will not 'pass our problems along' to the future generations-- when HE's the one proposing a TRILLION DOLLAR DEFICIT over the next five years! I am outraged that ENRON and the other corporate scandals have been effectively SWEPT UNDER THE CARPET! And that Dick Cheney STILL hasn't made his energy taks force records public! AND that the S.E.C. has actually just WEAKENED accounting industry oversight! AND I am outraged by the administration's attempts to undermine AFFIRMATIVE ACTION-- not to MENTION their stealth campaign against abortion rights-- and the BILLIONS they're pouring into an all-but-useless MISSILE DEFENSE SYTEM--and their complete CONTEMPT for basic civil liberties and constitutional rights-- and their efforts to portray any dissent as UNPATRIOTIC-- and--AND--"
Lamest Chem Joke of All Time
A: C over lambda!
I find this joke outrageously funny, and if that says something about my sense of humor, I steadfastly decline to comment upon it.
P.S. For those of you in the dark, substitute "nu" for "new." And if you still don't get it, well, you're not a chemistry geek. And that's ok.
Tuesday, March 18, 2003
Free Speech is Conditional
With a dip in Neilson ratings or a slowing of record sales, executives who normally let their "stars" run amok will undoubtedly rein them in. Free speech is great until it hurts the bottom line. When the bottom line is hurt, executives have an obligation to bring the "hammer" down and get these celebrities to back off.
More from the "real" Americans.
Monday, March 17, 2003
watch my wife get fuked
Whoever was doing the searching was probably disappointed by this site's decided lack of spousal voyeurism. On the other hand, Two Left Feet does feature unique photos of nearly naked young vixens engaged in licentious protesting. So maybe he found what he was looking for after all.
UPDATE: We've also been reached by searching on Yahoo for "FUKED WOMEN." Ok, now I'm going back to outrage overload over world events. I think most of us know who's really getting "fuked."
Wednesday, March 05, 2003
UNC's Peace Movement
These protestors had a great strategy. They (I assume) informed the media that they would be streaking for peace. That attracted a disgusting number of cameras and reporters, far more attention than the Green Energy Campaign ever got. That alone says something about our culture- people definitely got excited about even the rumor of naked peace-promoting flesh.
The protestors also attracted the attention of the police. And as you can see from the photo, when they emerged from Davis library, they weren't naked as promised, but clothed just enough to avoid charges of indecent exposure. Even better, I felt that they made a much stronger statement than they could have by running around naked. But how many media people would have shown up if the protestors hadn't said they would be naked?
Last Sunday, there was a great rally on McCorkle place. Between 750 and 1000 people showed up- though disappointingly few were students. The speakers were positive and made cohesive points, the sun was warm and bright, and we had a cheerful march to Weaver Street.
Perhaps in some sort of retribution for my open letter to Toni Smith (below), in helping to organize this rally I became the recipient of hateful email. Excerpts from a few of the more charming letters:
dont send me any more of your stupid bullshit. i hope we make iraq the worlds largest glass parking lot
To whomever sent this email, please do not send me any emails about protesting the war and being an American Coward.
How about no, I fully support Bush and the Gulf War. Just go plant or hug a tree if you need somthing to do.
Mark this day on your calendar so, when your naivety is lost you can sit and reflect and ask yourself, "What was I
I do not ask that you not promote such campaigns, just that you realize that freedom of speech and thought
There were more than 150 of these emails sent in reply to a mass email that went to all UNC students and at least some of its employees. In case you were wondering if the peace movement has been demonized, I'm here to tell you, the answer is yes.
Today, I did nothing for exactly thirty minutes. I originally planned to refrain from productive activity for an hour, but I was too chicken to do it.
I wanted to do nothing for a period of time because I suspected that I've become so trained to budget my time into discrete blocks of productivity that it would be very difficult to remain activity-free for even half an hour. I'd also noticed that in those brief moments in the college schedule when I have nothing to do, I usually invent tasks for myself, such as catching up on politics or cleaning the mirror in my room. While those are fine and good things to do, I was beginning to find myself so wrapped up in the need for stimulation and work-producing that I doubted that I could actually sit still for thirty minutes.
So, I set my alarm clock to go off after half an hour. I turned off the lights, shut off the computers, and covered up the clock. Then I sat down on my bed and vowed not to fall asleep.
For the first few minutes, my brain screamed. First, it tried to convince me that it really would be more fun to read blogs. When that failed, my mind began making lists of the work I really should be doing instead and I suddenly felt afraid of both my work and that I would not be able to remain seated for thirty minutes.
I forced myself to concentrate on my senses. I noticed that my room is very loud, a combination of the refrigerator, the low, rhythmic whirring of the heating system, and the traffic outside. I began to relax, but when a car horn sounded, I could feel my heart rate increase involuntarily and a certain tenseness that began in my stomach spread out through my body.
I could see the branches of the tree outside my window against the sky and I was reminded of a Jackson Pollack painting. I thought about the way my stomach felt to the hands resting on it, and how my hands felt to my stomach. I noticed the way my underwear was tugging at my skin, and the itchiness of my neck.
The tolling of the bell tower interrupted the attempt I had made to suspend time by covering up the clock. It informed me that fifteen minutes had passed, although it seemed like much less. My mind yelled again about what I should be doing, but as I realized that I was going to reach my goal of inactivity for thirty minutes, it quieted and I relaxed more.
I don't remember exactly what I thought during the second fifteen minutes. I do recall thinking that perhaps the reason I often have very insightful ideas while on airplanes has less to do with being in the sunshine above the clouds (as I had thought) but more attributable to the fact that airplane trips are the only times when I do nothing more than stare out of the window for hours. Perhaps the best thoughts come when the mind is drifting, free of the boundaries of time management.
Towards the end of the thirty minutes, I realized that what I would like very much was to cook myself an omelet and belgian waffles for dinner. So I did. And it was good.