Well okay, maybe. I have been told by more than one person that I am the most defensive person they’ve ever met, so you might just want to take what follows with more than the usual grain of salt. Continue reading
Category Archives: rant
Yes I know the Nazis were evil incarnate and did all sorts of horrible things, and were monsters and blah blah blah. But now you can’t say anything even remotely positive about them without advocating everything they did? Appreciating someone’s sense of style means condoning genocide? What the fuck, people? There’s lots of real things to get outraged about, you know. You don’t have to go making stuff up. Continue reading
That’s the view out my office window, here in the winter wonderland. I still don’t have proper boots because I’m so incredibly picky – don’t believe me? Ask my sister-in-law, she took me to every dang shoestore in Denver and I couldn’t find anything reasonable. I’m sure she was wondering what the hell was wrong with me, though she’s much too polite to say so to my face. Continue reading
I should read the news more often. How much money have I given to The Body Shop since they sold out to L’Oreal (bunny killers) and Nestlé (baby killers, among other things)?
But Anita says she hasn’t sold out. What does that mean, really? To “sell out?”
Well, a good example would be building a company on the whole cruelty-free ethos, and then selling it for a whacking big load of money, to a company that puts caustic substances in rabbits’ eyes just to see what will happen. Oh, and a “hypocrite” would be someone who markets herself as this big passionate activist, and then says she doesn’t care what her company does now that she’s sold it. All that money she has now “to give to charity?” Wonder if she’ll donate any of it for animal rights, fair trade, decent labor practices, or healthcare for third-world children? Now that she’s handed a big profit-machine over to a conglomerate that stands against those things.
And here’s a bonus word: “disingenuous” is when you sell out and then pretend you don’t understand why people are upset.
The Christmas tree is down, and the ornaments packed away (when I told the Sniglet we had to take the tree down, he said “down to where?”), and all the presents have found some non-floor place to live. My house is clean, yay! And the demon spawn are going back to school tomorrow, double yay! Love them to bits, indeed I do, but cabin fever is not um, conducive to family harmony, okay? Ignatz can read, but the Sniglet took to passing the time by running back and forth behind my chair. And breeeeeeeathing. Argh. We all need to get back to real life. Continue reading
… we’re out of soy sauce.
Okay, just kidding. Well, we really are out of soy sauce, but it’s probably not such a huge problem, though the sweet&sour pork I made last night was not salty enough and I tried to fix it with teriyaki sauce. Learn from another’s experience and don’t do that, okay? It’s not good.
So the internet fairy takes tuesdays off from making my life hell. That is to say, DrBob teaches on tuesdays, and takes his computer with him, so I can set up my computer at his desk and steal the neighbor’s bandwidth for awhile (he said we could, don’t worry. We don’t have permission from his provider, but as they are the very Telekom that’s screwing up our service, I see a certain poetic justice here. After all, if they did their job and gave me the service I’m actually paying for, I wouldn’t have any reason to do this, would I?). So once a week I check up on y’all, and it doesn’t really leave me time to write here – well, sort of it does, but a week’s worth of events and impressions is too much, and it just forms this giant clot in the front of my brain and I can’t untangle it so I wind up with random crap about soy sauce.
And Halloween. Sigh. Back Home, I loved Halloween, the whole dressing-up and black and purple and parties and silliness was very fun, but I’m really not happy about it coming to Germany. Because it really does spring from an ancient Irish tradition that was brought over in the 19th century by great lolloping masses of Irish immigrants, so it has a valid precedent in the States. Here it’s just marketing, with no history or tradition behind it.
This does not keep my children from wanting to participate, however, and having to say no sucks. Especially since Ignatz’s friends are trick-or-treating, and I can’t really keep him from going with them, so I’m only saying no to the Sniglet. That’s really hard, because I recognize the unfairness of it, but I don’t want to take him (did I mention that there is no historical or traditional precedent for Halloween here? So some people are into it, but a lot of them, if you knock on their door and ask for candy, will be all WTF on you, and Ignatz can tolerate this, but I already get enough of it, thank you) and the Sniglet’s too young to go on his own.
Gah. Holidays, good. Holidays out of context, not so much.
Song du jour of the day: In These Shoes, by Kirsty MacColl. Which reminds me that I owe someone a thank-you…