Taking it Eegee in the eegeehood

I am running out of titles and puns! But never fear, neither rain, or sleet nor punnilessness will prevent the Sunday tour from going on! Well, most times.

Anyway, it’s that time again and I just know everyone is ready and has on all their Sunday best, so here goes!

I notice people have been wondering what Bud is looking for, in the post right below this one. Well, duh! I know the answer to that! Being the super-duper detective beagle basset hound (who knew!?) that he is, he’s looking for the new hoodians who’ve shown up in comments! Bud tracked them down, sniffed them out, and didn’t let them out of his sight… one person even says I’m being followed by a Moonflower, Moonflower…“, which I doubt Bud has ever been called! When I tell you that you otherwise know this person as Iowa Victory Gardener, it’ll come as no shock that he has… well… Gardening Surprises! (covers Olivia’s eyes)… Lots of lovely flowers but, sadly, no bugs!

Also, look it’s spiderleaf! She says she doesn’t spend all that much time posting on her site, but I know all about being a Bad Blogger and I don’t think that should disqualify anyone! What she does write is great stuff.

James (who I somehow forgot last weekend! gasp!) is apparently on the road again and quoting Gandhi. He also welcomes us to history as farce, courtesy of the 21st century. Also a short book review of what looks like a Very Interesting Book!

[UPDATE!] Ductape has important updates and thoughts on what is going on in Lebanon, including the recent Qana massacre.

Train them up in the hate they should show and when they are older… Duke highlights a frightening story of children being taught (by the Boy Scouts!) to be human hunters. The more things change, sigh. Also, immigrants are not to blame for the heathcare crisis.

catnip tells us that all of a sudden, Condi is worried about her reputation. Can’t imagine why… also, Lebanon updates. No Sunday Food for Thought yet, though!

Whew, I think it’s time for Family Man! You say there’s nothing good on TV anymore? Well, um… it’s true! Also pictures! And don’t look a gift brother in the weed eater.

[UPDATE AGAIN!] boran has put his Saturday Painting Palooza on his site! And it looks like wild horses dragged him there! So now we can follow the progression, yay! Also, speaking of horses… horses heads in pools… ugh.

Oh dear, about Olivia… I don’t know what to say! She’s gone buggy, she’s gone to the birds and now…. well, just go look! Sometimes it IS easy being green, it seems. Also, this little guy needs a Time Out! If that doesn’t look just like a kid with its mouth wide open, yelling… And don’t forget the bouquet!

Lot’s happening at dove’s… supersoling gives a little background on why civilians indeed are targeted in wars and dove tells us about the Grocer’s Daughter – first in a series. More ongoing conversations there as well, scroll down!

katiebird is talking about successful losers! We all know some of them, although maybe not quite the sort she means 😉 . Plus, she has the skinny on bagels and the expanding portion sizes of food! And lots more, including being committed daily. Go read!

I’m guessing an eye in a sailboat… what do you think? I bet deano knows, but he’s not telling!

All done! (I think… if I’ve forgotten anyone, let me know!)

Oh! And this might be a job for the super-duper detective basset hound… domo has confessed to keeping Manny hostage for the weekend! We must rescue him! Come on, Bud!

… Bud? um… Bud? (Looks like Bud is being held hostage too… oh well!)

P.S. Bud has informed me that I Don’t Know Dogs! Or flowers, or um… lots of other stuff, sigh. Anyway though, wouldn’t a dog by any other name still be as cute?

P.S.S I messed up something or other when changing Bud from a beagle to a basset hound, but I think I got it all put back! Well, as far as I can remember it, lol.

Use this as an Open Thread

 

Friday Bud Blogging

 

Immigration News Roundup

Someone give me the red pill, I don’t want to know about the matrix anymore. Sometimes it hurts too much.

Rescuers called off the search Thursday for four illegal immigrants believed to have died when they were swept down a flooded tunnel connecting the twin cities of Nogales.

The search lasted more than seven hours.

Rescuers followed the wash about 10 miles north of the border, but could not locate the four and called off the search about 1 p.m., officials said.

“If they are there, they are not alive,” Santa Cruz County Sheriff Tony Estrada said. “It’s possible the bodies got stuck in the mud and could surface again during another storm. We’ve found people like that before.” – linkage

Ramon Sanchez, a former immigration official is going to get the dishonor of being made a national example. It reminds me of the way dissenters were strung up in the city square during the times of the old west as a warning to others that they better not mess with the status quo.

A former immigration officer was sentenced to 120 days of home confinement for harboring an illegal immigrant, his wife.

Ramon M. Sanchez Jr., a 42-year-old former detention officer with the Department of Homeland Security in Tucson, pleaded guilty Oct. 28 to harboring Flor Lilianan Velasco-Barrera and her 10-year-old son, according to a news release from the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

Sanchez had been charged with nine counts related to illegally transporting and harboring an illegal immigrant. – linkage (emphasis mine)

And from the crazy whackjob that brought the atrocity Prop 200 to the state of Arizona, yet another hydra-head to kill.

Phoenix officials have approved the ballot language for a proposed initiative that asks voters whether they want city officials, including police officers, to enforce federal immigration laws.

[snip]

Would “require all officials, agencies, and personnel of the city of Phoenix, including the Phoenix Police Department, to cooperate with and assist federal immigration authorities in enforcing immigration laws within the boundaries of the city.” – linkage

Nevada joins the list of states assisting with the militarization of la frontera.

About 130 members of the Nevada Army and Air National Guard leave Saturday for duty along the Arizona-Mexico border as part of Operation Jump Start, designed to keep illegal immigrants from crossing into the United States.

[snip]

Bush said the mission will free up thousands of officers now on other duties to actively patrol the border. Guardsmen are building fences and conducting routine surveillance. – linkage (emphasis mine)

So much for the line they fed the media that the Guard would only be doing repair work on the Great Wall™ and access roads. “Routine surveillance” mi nalga, I guess that’s why they need firearms.

You may now return to your daily schedule of outrage courtesy of Cowboy Diplomacy.

Crossposted at BooMan Tribune

 

"Stop the Next War Now"

So much for diplomacy.

President Bush declined Thursday to criticize Israel’s tactics in its continuing offensive against Hezbollah guerrillas in southern Lebanon, and gave a sharp condemnation of Iran’s role in the bloody fighting.

“Hezbollah attacked Israel. I know Hezbollah is connected to Iran,” Bush said tersely at the end of Oval Office meetings with Romanian President Traian Basescu. “Now is the time for the world to confront this danger,” Bush said.

linkage

[head asplosion]

 

Finally Some Good News

I can’t tell you how much we needed this

Heavy rainfall, between 1.5 inches and 2 inches, fell over large areas near the Catalina and Rincon mountains overnight as well as along portions of Interstate 10. Heavy stream flows can be expected around the Catalina and Rincon Mountains, including Cañada del Oro, Sabino Creek, Tanque Verde Creek, Rincon Creek, Pantano Wash and Cienega Creek.

Heavy rains also were recorded in a large area stretching from Sierra Vista to Bisbee to Douglas. – linkage

It’s the type of rain that saturates the parched tierra. When I stepped outside this morning I could smell the scent of the creosote that permeates the desert air when the skies open up and bring the gift of water.

If you live in Arizona you know all too well the sweet musky scent of desert rain. But you might not know that it isn’t the rain you smell at all. The leaves of the creosote bush, one of the commonest desert shrubs in Arizona, give off a thick sweet odor during periods of high humidity or rain. The smell so often associated with rain is actually the creosote thirsting for a drink.

Here’s hoping that the renewal of life that comes with the monsoon season rain has the same effect on the human beings who inhabit this earth. We desperately need some positive empowerment, at least I do.

 

Idle Thoughts

The way we look at the world is determined by what motivates us.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always held teachers in high esteem. I was fortunate to have a decent slate of educators throughout my years and found myself fully aware of the impact they were making in my life. And I let them know it. It has created lasting bonds with many of them and I try to keep in touch as the years pass.

I’ve always said something to my friends that goes alittle something like this: “There are three types of people in the world. The first will go into a situation and make it better. The second will go into a situation and make it worse. The third will go and decide that the status quo is acceptable and disappear into the crowd.”

As an imperfect human being, I do an intricate charro dance between the three, but my heart resides in the first type. My communication/leadership style is based on consensus-building and lots of listening. It’s also built on awareness that personality plays a huge roll in productivity. The way one interacts/engages with an introvert is very different than when they are working with an extrovert. (I’m a Myers-Briggs ENFJ, in case you were wondering, borderline INFJ)

I’m rambling on and on about this for a couple of reasons. The first was the Mercury Retrograde thread at Village Blue, which explained some of the astronomical hijinks currently in place, and the second was because I’ve been observing the various blog threads on the current violence erupting in Lebanon and realized that people were offering tons of opinions with very little communication occurring.

How do we break out of that? Is it just a reality that we have to deal with given the fact that we are operating based on the written word of another, or is there a better way? …just some stuff I’ve been pondering as the clouds continue to rumble around my head.

Well, and of course, there’s always this

An 11-year-old girl crossing the desert with her 17-year-old sister died Saturday, probably of heat exposure, officials said Tuesday.

Officials also found three dead bodies over the weekend believed to be illegal entrants.

Olivia Luna Nogueda and her older sister, Marisol, left their hometown of Acapulco, Guerrero, to cross the border Friday with a group of about 20 people, said Alejandro Ramos, a spokesman for the Mexican Consulate in Tucson.

The girls were hoping to reunite with their parents who were already in the country, working in Atlanta.

If you’re into battling trolls, check out the comment section of that article. Absolutely disgusting.

[UPDATE] More idle thoughts: I really wish the “big blogs” in blogtopia (y!sctp!) would spend at least half the energy they do attacking Joe Lieberman on the Republicans that are facing strong challenges. I’m not a fan of Joe, but where’s the crossblog effort to get rid of rabid freaks like Jon Kyl? Just sayin’…

Crossposted at the ePluribus Media™ Community site

 

Cocooned in a morning fog

A cushion of tiny pink and white petals that had been cast off from the fruit trees during the night greeted my first venture outside this morning. California “snow”.

I stood in the soft, feathery puddle and peered, not all that hopefully, up at the sky, seeing what I’d come to expect lately… yet more clouds. I’ve gotten pretty good at telling which ones are full of rain that is just waiting for a signal to fall and drench us yet again, and which are just hovering there as a menacing reminder of what could be.

Feeling a little like I should be writing for the Farmer’s Almanac, or one of those people who live in places that have weather, I judged that we would have a day of reprieve from the rain. For the morning, anyway. It was going to be a cloudy day, but fairly clear and dry, in my now expert estimation.

The courtyard of my building was clear so it wasn’t until I got nearer to the street and couldn’t see the other side that I realized that I’d made a slight miscalculation. While the dreary rain was gone for a time, we’d exchanged it for a nice, thick fog.

And that was just what I needed. Really.

Do you think in pictures and sounds? I do, quite often. Mornings are my time and I find myself taking my cue for the day from what I hear and see in them. Clear, sunny mornings are like tinkling wind chimes. Rainy mornings – drums and cymbals and tap dances. And foggy mornings… a cocoon. As an introvert, I am right at home in the last.

Walking in thick fog is different from other weather because you can -almost – make the real world disappear and create your own. You know the same buildings are there that were there yesterday but, until you get close enough for them to take on form, you can imagine them to be … well, whatever you want. A pillow, a cloud, a Stonehenge-like structure on a foggy moor, a castle or the seashore. Whatever strikes your fancy at the moment.

What I find most alluring about walking in fog, however, is that while oftentimes everything around me is covered in a heavy, impenetrable mist, the space I am in is clear. I move forward with the haze opening up before me, and closing again behind me – surrounded, enveloped, but not consumed. I look as far ahead as I can and feel as if I am heading towards a deliciously mysterious unknown, but by the time I get there the familiar, solid shapes are right where they are supposed to be.

Once in a while things take over your whole world, and you are completely immersed in being and feeling and interacting, and that’s okay. Sometimes. At other times everything seems to just step lightly around you, leaving your world untouched.

That’s how it was this particular morning.

I find it distressingly easy to get fanciful when cocooned like this. Harsh edges and sounds are gone, and what I can see and hear is softened, once removed. The rumble of the cars on the pavement, the shouts of the children on their way to school are all still there… but muted. I hear a hum and look down the street, seeing nothing except a slight lightening of the air. Soon headlights appear, growing larger and brighter as they approach, the car an explosion of sound and metal for a few moments as it enters my bubble of clearness before it whooshes on past and I am left watching its tail-lights slowly fade back into the mist.

Across the four lanes, on the opposite walkway, I can make out vague movements, becoming occasionally defined as a person fading in and out through denser or lighter mists, never quite taking on substance or recognition before they are enclosed and are once again outside my view. I see an arm moving back and forth – someone waving at me… who are they and am I who they think I am? Does it matter, on a day like this? I wave back at the blurry figure.

On my side of the street others pass right through my cocoon but don’t stay. I hear their footsteps long before their bodies begin to take on substance… usually an almost disembodied head first, then gradually the rest until they eventually enter fully formed into my unclouded area, passing close enough for an exchange of smiles and greetings before they walk past and disappear again into their own cocoons.

When I get to the overpass of the still unfinished freeway, I look down at the beginning and I can see only a very short distance before it too disappears into the fog. It’s not until my return trip that I have a different perspective and notice a long, squiggly crack that meanders into the nothingness on the as yet untried highway. I can’t tell how bad it is – maybe it stops just beyond where I can see, and will be easily repaired. Nicks and dings and puttied over cracks don’t ruin an object for me. I frequently find greater beauty in something that has once been broken and has been restored to continue on doing what it’s meant to do than in something that radiates continuous perfection. Still, this crack in the highway obviously is a structural problem that doesn’t bode well for the long term. I hope they fix it soon.

Over on the other side, where I can usually see the end of the highway before it curves around, there is nothing. A completely blank shroud of mist, giving no indication that there is even a continuation of anything there. This would be a bit disconcerting except that I know that this is perfectly normal behavior for a cocoon. A suspension of time and place and cares, for a short while.

Cocoons, after all, don’t eliminate confusion, or grief, or wars, or politics or anything else that is going on in your world. They just hold them at bay for a time, allowing you to rest a moment in the clarity of your little protected space, which gradually expands as the sun returns to burn away the layers of fog.

 

Monsoon Open Thread

Posting is going to be light this week,
I need to sort through some clouds in my head

 

The Dictator in Action/Inaction

Newsweek provides an extensive look into George Bush’s trip to Russia for the G8 Summit that was overshadowed by the escalation of violence in the Middle East. Here are some portions that caught my interest, giving a further glimpse into how bad things really are under his dictatorship.

After five years of terrorism and bloodshed, crisis has become a way of life for George W. Bush. Back home, he usually has the luxury of managing events in private, with his aides close at hand and world leaders a phone call away. This time it’s just the opposite: Bush must respond to the violence in the full glare of a global summit, where the leaders like to take each other’s measure in front of the cameras. Over the next several days, Bush huddles with presidents and prime ministers, showing how far he has traveled since 9/11—and also how little he has changed. Bush thinks the new war vindicates his early vision of the region’s struggle: of good versus evil, civilization versus terrorism, freedom versus Islamic fascism. He still believes that when it comes to war and terror, leaders need to decide whose side they are on.

Tell that to the family members of the civilians who are massacred in the process. A population that has seen absolutely zero compassion from the U.S. Government’s Pulpit of War. They are relegated to collateral damage in a disgusting gamble of power.

Bush has a full day ahead with Putin, but first his aides have a long list of subjects to cover with him. In a prebriefing session they try to cram him with talking points on a vast array of issues. Bush, who hates to get bogged down in the weeds, has heard enough. “How long do you want this list to be?” he snaps. At least he doesn’t need to make small talk; last night’s dinner has dispensed with that. “It makes it easier to sit down and get right to the subject,” Bush says. “You don’t have to break ice and establish rapport.”

The article describes the many ways that George flubs a few media appearances “not hitting all the bases”, it also mentions that the notecards he is given are usually ignored, with the dictator flipping them over and making his own notes. Perhaps a movie will be made in his honor someday: “A Dangerous Mind”

The other world leaders arrive that evening, and the official summit begins with a lavish feast. The dinner is something out of a Fellini epic, staged at the magnificent Peterhof Palace, built by Peter the Great. The scene is a uniquely Russian mix of historical grandeur, political power and touristy kitsch. The Russians offer a seven-course meal including caviar and beef stroganoff (maybe Chirac has a point), served by waiters wearing powdered wigs. Outside, a bear dressed in a green tutu with pink polka dots performs tricks. Inside, Chancellor Merkel starts to tell the story of a rare wild bear that was recently shot and killed in Germany. This prompts Japan’s Junichiro Koizumi to reel off every bearlike word in his English vocabulary. “Teddy bear,” he says for no apparent reason. “We must bear criticism. Unbearable.” The leaders all start giggling.

Yes, you read that correctly: “a bear dressed in a green tutu with pink polka dots performs tricks” – no wonder the world is screwed! The aristocrats are too busy engaging in frivolous fluff while the world explodes around them. This world is grossly lacking leadership, and they sure aren’t going to get it from the nuclear superpower, the U.S., because George needs a shower.

That afternoon the leaders are promised they will see the final text of their statement on the Middle East, which calls on Hizbullah to end its rocket attacks and then urges Israel to end its military strikes. But the document fails to arrive at the promised hour of 4, and it’s still not there at 5 o’clock. Bush has had it. “I’m going home,” he says to the room full of presidents and prime ministers. “I’m going to get a shower. I’m just about meeting’d out.” Some of the leaders suggest they should all work out their differences together. But Bush can no longer keep up appearances. “I thought that was a lousy idea and so did others,” Bush says later. “It would lose focus and everybody would then have an opinion.”

God forbid everyone have an opportunity to further voice their opinions. That type of talk is reserved for a democratic world. As I wrote last week, What a Complete and Utter Embarrasment. I would also add Dangerous to the litany of adjectives. There are others, but I will keep this post as clean as possible under the dire circumstances we all find ourselves regardless of the borders that divide humanity.

 

Monday Morning Musings

The world didn’t blow up over the weekend, but it might as well have; the wars in the Middle East continue with Israel’s bombardment of Lebanon continuing unabated and the situation on the ground in Iraq worsens with the death toll rising everyday.

The concept of non-violent resistance has been discussed recently here at this blog as well as others as another path that can be taken to get the global community out of the deadly game of pickle it finds itself. Talking is one thing, bringing it about in real-life is quite another.

This article in the Arizona Daily Star gives me hope that people are getting fed up with killing on a widespread level. While the rally happened in the context of a faith gathering, I believe the notion of peace is something that is, can and should be extended to anyone and everyone, regardless if they are members of a religious tradition.

About 85 Tucsonans gathered Sunday to pray for and remember victims of violence in the Middle East, especially those lost to the growing conflict between Israel and Lebanon.

It was a show of unity between Jews, Muslims and anyone else who wanted to share their frustration or sadness about what’s happening on the other side of the world, said Rabbi Shafir Lobb, who leads Congregation Ner Tamid and also is one of three directors of the International Center for Peace.

[snip]

Dina Afek, an Israeli citizen who has family and friends in Israel, urged the group to continue talking to people with different beliefs.

“Praying will not bring back the dead and the wounded,” she said.

Afek, who has participated in the local Jewish-Muslim Peace Walk, which sponsored the event, said it is easiest to talk together in peacetime. During times of war, mistrust and polarizing opinions emerge and friendly disagreements become matters of life and death.

“As Muslims and Jews, we are against all violence,” she said. “The only way to solve this conflict has to be through negotiation and diplomacy.”

linkage

What concrete actions can we take in our lives to help build a peaceful movement from the ground upwards within our circles of influence that is rooted in a full-rejection of the “eye for an eye” worldview?