Sunday, December 18, 2005

I roll my eyes at you

So what bothers me a lot, and several people have heard about this already, are people who walk around with t-shirts, caps, coats, and other articles of clothing that have some sort of symbol of communism, more specifically Soviet communism, on them. I noticed in the past few days, there has been a re-emergence of caps and hats that have a red star sewn in the front. A few years back, there was a trend to wear Bolshevik-style military coats. And once in a while, you see some twit, wandering around in a USSR t-shirt. Or, CCCP, that’s a special t-shirt for those who really know.

One time, I think about two-three years back, I was at an art opening, walking around, feeling a little bored, not really fitting in with the rest of the people attending the opening. Thanks to my peripheral vision (yes, you’d think I am Wonder Woman), I spotted a kid in a green, ankle length military coat with a variety of Soviet-looking insignia on it. At that moment, I’ve had several drinks already so I felt ballsy enough to approach him and inquire why he wore that coat. I felt a little bad because the kid felt really uncomfortable and said to me in the most pitiful voice: “I don’t know, leave me alone.”

This brings me to my point. Most of these twits don’t know anything about communism. I doubt many of them would be able to compare and contrast the difference between socialists-who-became-communists-but-then-were-classified-as-socialists again, Marxism, Leninism (or, I guess, Marxist-Leninism, pending whom you ask), Stalinism, Glasnost, China and Cuba. Those who can speak at length in an intelligent manner most likely would not wear ‘stylish’ outfits with pre-sewn emblems.

Someone told me that kids wear that crap because they’ve been taught that communism is bad, thus wearing communist symbols would lead others to believe that these kids are ‘bad’ and ‘rebels’ against the establishment. Now, I may be totally wrong on this one, but I just don’t know that many 20-somethings today whose parents repeatedly warned them about the evils of communism. Most of them grew up in the 80s and they got to see the more fun (relatively speaking) parts of Soviet communism. I am sure pictures of smiling Gobachev made everyone feel fuzzy inside (ah, the fuzzy theme again).

Not to mention that a whole lot of people suffered under communism. And still do. Let’s not forget people being forcefully moved or deported, people dying in labor camps, people being overmedicated in a psychiatric hospital because they said the wrong thing. I don’t see anyone wearing swastikas in public, yet a CCCP t-shirt is OK? Why did all the Solidarity-type movements cropping up all over Eastern Europe? Why did the Wall get smashed into pieces? Communism may be fun to read but living in a communist state is another thing. And it shouldn’t be idolized the way it is by a bunch of ignorant twits. If they were sent to present-day China (and I mean China, not the fancy luxury hotels built just for foreigners in Beijing), I am sure all these twits will change their mind and move onto something else to wear.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Finally, it’s all finished

So the good news is that I am finally finished with the semester. The whole ordeal was painstaking. School of Social Work makes sure that everyone’s is on her last straw at the end of the semester by not giving time off during finals week (note that I wrote ‘her’ since the school is full of about 782 women and 13 men). So everyone was writing papers while going to classes and work. I’ve been writing frantically every day, writing so much that my 20 page paper became a 30 page paper and my 10 page paper became a 12 page paper. By the end of the week, my brain was completely fried, I would mumble something to people and no one understood anything I was saying. Not that anyone ever understands me but this time it was extra bad because even I wasn’t sure what I was saying any more.

In all this paper-writing delirium, I also had the weirdest and most intense dreams. Last Monday, in my dream, I was sitting in a New York City bus on the way home from the North 7th stop on the L and all of the sudden, these two men broke out in a fight. They were really punching the crap out of each other and everyone around them was shrieking and scrambling to get away. And although I was scared and I kept telling myself that I really should get away as soon as possible, I didn’t budge. But the fear and panic felt real and I may have been screaming while dreaming. Not that there is anyone to verify my screaming but that’s a whole new post I am not going to dwell into. I am not sure why I dreamt about a fight although I did take a bus from my yoga class earlier that evening. So Freudian dream interpreters, fire away!

On top of this dream, later in the week, I had a weirder dream. I was at work in a conference room on the 8th floor a building. Instead seeing the Upper West Side of Manhattan, I saw water that came up to the 8th floor with snowcapped mountains in the background. At some point, rockets started flying around and planes started exploding into the mountains. At the same time, these cranes emerged from water and started swinging around for no reason. And a group of old people came out of an exit to the side to take a dip in what seemed to be freezing cold water. When they realized that the world was going bonkers around them, they all decided to swim back to the building. I am not feeling super descriptive today so instead, I doodled a lovely picture for you below. I just realized that I forgot to add this creature that popped out of nowhere and started climbing up the window, staring at me and my colleagues. Judging by the expression on its face, it seemed really angry and it kept jutting its sharp tongue over its spiky little teeth. I could even see its little suction cups that attached to the glass so that the little creature wouldn’t fall off. I woke up, feeling really confused.

And then, I had another weird dream where I was scared crapless as well, but I forgot it the minute I got into the shower.

But I am glad the semester is all over with. My plans for the break are to eat, sleep, and finally get back to all the people whom I haven’t seen in weeks. So if you’re one of them, call me! I’ll pick up this time, I promise.


This is what my mind comes up with when I am delirious Posted by Picasa

Monday, December 12, 2005

Oh My God!

Someone shoot me! I've been listening to Cat Power for days now...

At least, I am not paying to see her live, now, that would be a disaster!

Sunday, December 11, 2005

From the Washington Post

Katrina Victims Testify on Racism's Role

By LARA JAKES JORDAN
The Associated Press
Tuesday, December 6, 2005; 8:06 PM

WASHINGTON -- Black survivors of Hurricane Katrina said Tuesday that racism contributed to the slow disaster response, at times likening themselves in emotional congressional testimony to victims of genocide and the Holocaust.

The comparison is inappropriate, according to Rep. Jeff Miller, R-Fla.

"Not a single person was marched into a gas chamber and killed," Miller told the survivors.

"They died from abject neglect," retorted community activist Leah Hodges. "We left body bags behind."

Angry evacuees described being trapped in temporary shelters where one New Orleans resident said she was "one sunrise from being consumed by maggots and flies." Another woman said military troops focused machine gun laser targets on her granddaughter's forehead. Others said their families were called racial epithets by police.

"No one is going to tell me it wasn't a race issue," said New Orleans evacuee Patricia Thompson, 53, who is now living in College Station, Texas. "Yes, it was an issue of race. Because of one thing: when the city had pretty much been evacuated, the people that were left there mostly was black."

Not all lawmakers seemed persuaded.

"I don't want to be offensive when you've gone though such incredible challenges," said Rep. Christopher Shays, R-Conn. But referring to some of the victims' charges, like the gun pointed at the girl, Shays said: "I just don't frankly believe it."

"You believe what you want," Thompson said.

The hearing was held by a special House committee, chaired by Rep. Tom Davis, R-Va., investigating the government's preparations and response to Katrina. It was requested by Rep. Cynthia McKinney, D-Ga., a member of the Congressional Black Caucus.

"Racism is something we don't like to talk about, but we have to acknowledge it," McKinney said. "And the world saw the effects of American-style racism in the drama as it was outplayed by the Katrina survivors."

The five white and two black lawmakers who attended the hearing mostly sat quietly during two and a half hours of testimony. But tempers flared when evacuees were asked by Rep. Jeff Miller, R-Fla., to not compare shelter conditions to a concentration camp.

"I'm going to call it what it is," said Hodges. "That is the only thing I could compare what we went through to."

Of five black evacuees who testified, only one said he believed the sluggish response was the product of bad government planning for poor residents, not racism.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

I think I am in love

Well, maybe not in love per se, but it’s definitely a gigantic crush. Unfortunately, the guy is not from here so I don’t see him very often, which is a little sad. In fact, he won’t be back until spring; at least, that’s what he said, so it’s going to be a long and lonely winter. I may as well stock up on chocolate ice cream and DVDs now.

But he’s thoughtful and really nice. And he’s got a beard! He’s also a musician, and for those who don’t know me too well, I’ve always been a sucker for the musician/writer types. He’s brilliant - the one time I heard him play, I was a little mesmerized. Just a little - I was sidetracked by some guy who spilled his beer while chatting up a girl and I was watching him desperately soak up the spill and make it look cool. It didn’t work out; she turned around and cackled with her friends for the rest of the show.

Anyways, back to my crush. Truth be, he’s drinks a whole lot (it’s a little scary) and he’s married. So there isn’t much hope for me but everyone has secret crush. It just happens that mine is not on Brad Pitt or Jake Gyllenhaal (fortunately for me, my roommate has a magazine for gay men which features an article on Brokeback Mountain so I was able to refer to it to spell Gyllenhaal – whew!). My crush is on none other but the super-dreamy Jack Rose.

I am sure you’ll say: “well, Inga, how do you know that Jack Rose is thoughtful and really nice?” Well, let me tell you. I went to Tonic to see Jack (or as I refer to him – Jackie-poo) play. Now, Tonic listed him first on fliers and tickets. Other Music, a music store on West 4th, didn’t even bother list other performers, they called the entire thing a Jack Rose show. Now, when a performer is listed first, that usually means that he will play last. Being cool, I showed up at 9pm, rather than at 8pm when the show started, expecting to wait several hours to see Jack Rose play. Well, unfortunately for me, Jack Rose played first and I missed the entire performance. And to make things worst, Tonic wouldn’t refund the $15 tickets even though Ticket Web, which also sells tickets for shows at Tonic, refunded tickets to its customers because Josephine Foster, who also scheduled to play that evening, cancelled.

But, thanks to the addictive nature of nicotine and current anti-smoking laws in New York City, after his performance, Jack Rose bolted outside for a smoke. During this time, I took the opportunity to whine (heck, I am a pro at it, why not?) about missing him play. I even pointed out that I had his show on my calendar for weeks. Jack was really nice, he apologized and ran back into Tonic. After a little while, he came out with a tote bag and gave me a t-shirt. Ok, so I suppose a t-shirt is not really the same as getting to see him play but I don’t care, he didn't have to give me one. So, Jackie-poo, I luv you!

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Killer chipmunks and squirrels

I couldn't resist... and I would second the existence of killer squirrels. I've seen several squirrels attack humans on my college compus a few years ago. And these were civilized american squirrels.

Russian squirrel pack 'kills dog'

Squirrels have bitten to death a stray dog which was barking at them in a Russian park, local media report. Passers-by were reportedly too late to stop the attack by the black squirrels in a village in the far east, which reportedly lasted about a minute. They are said to have scampered off at the sight of humans, some carrying pieces of flesh.

A pine cone shortage may have led the squirrels to seek other food sources, although scientists are sceptical. The attack was reported in parkland in the centre of Lazo, a village in the Maritime Territory, and was witnessed by three local people. A "big" stray dog was nosing about the trees and barking at squirrels hiding in branches overhead when a number of them suddenly descended and attacked, reports say.

"They literally gutted the dog," local journalist Anastasia Trubitsina told Komsomolskaya Pravda newspaper. "When they saw the men, they scattered in different directions, taking pieces of their kill away with them."

Mikhail Tiyunov, a scientist in the region, said it was the first he had ever heard of such an attack. While squirrels without sources of protein might attack birds' nests, he said, the idea of them chewing at a dog to death was "absurd". "If it really happened, things must be pretty bad in our forests," he added.

Komosmolskaya Pravda notes that in a previous incident this autumn chipmunks terrorised cats in a part of the territory. A Lazo man who called himself only Mikhalich said there had been "no pine cones at all" in the local forests this year. "The little beasts are agitated because they have nothing to eat," he said.

Story from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/europe/4489792.stm

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

And I thought I whine a lot

So thanks to my friend, who is sorely missed, I am posting a story from the New York Times, which accurately describes the trials and tribulations of using the G train. And I gotta meet this Emanuele Zanet, I think there is a talk in order.

December 6, 2005
No Respect (and Soon, a Crew of One)
By SEWELL CHAN

It is the only major subway line in New York that does not enter Manhattan. Its route is short: 16 stations at peak hours. Its trains, 4 cars instead of the usual 8 or 10, seem oddly truncated. Even the color of its route symbol, a sickly lime green, suggests unease.

It's the G line, which rumbles between Queens and Brooklyn, and has never been much loved by subway riders. It does not have the multiethnic charm of the No. 7, the iPod-hipster bustle of the L, the quaint charm of the 42nd Street shuttle or the romance of the A. It has not been immortalized in song.

And now, perhaps, the final indignity: starting this month, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority plans to remove all conductors from the line. Since 1998, the line has been conductorless on weekends - the first line, other than shuttles, to be run under a program known as one-person train operation. (On a one-person train, there is only an operator at the front.)

The authority says that conductorless trains save money and are widely used in other cities, but some riders view the impending change as only the latest slight for a line that too often seems forlorn and neglected. No other line seems to have riders so aggrieved, and their criticism so vituperative.

"Just put lights on the tracks and we can walk - it'll be faster," said Jonathan Lovett, 46, a letter carrier whose house is a few steps from the Clinton-Washington station in Brooklyn. His advice to the G-line neophyte: "Bring an extra battery for your MP3 player."

But the line does provide a vital, if erratic, link between the city's two most populous boroughs, and G detractors may be surprised to know that weekday ridership has risen 10 percent since 2000. Much of that has resulted from residential growth in neighborhoods like Long Island City, Queens, and Greenpoint, Williamsburg and Fort Greene, in Brooklyn.

Mr. Lovett was worried that the removal of conductors might complicate a practice that some riders call the G-line sprint. If they hear the train coming and find themselves at one end of the platform, they will make a mad dash to the short train. "Often, the conductor will keep the doors open if he sees you running for the train," Mr. Lovett said. "I don't know if the motorman will do that - or if he can even see you running, since he's in the front of the train."

From its southern terminus, at Smith-Ninth Streets near the Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn, the line meanders north, east and then north again. At peak hours and midday on weekdays, it serves 16 stations and ends at Court Square in Long Island City. In evenings, at nights and on weekends, it serves 29 stations and ends at 71st Street-Continental Avenue in Forest Hills.
But even that irregular plan is not often followed. Service has been particularly erratic this year, because of an array of construction projects, including a $47.9 million effort to rehabilitate structures, repair leaks and replace incandescent lights with fluorescent ones along five miles of the line.

For 42 weekends this year, the train is ending at Court Square because of various subway construction projects. For 14 weekends this year and late nights for half of the year, the line is operating in two segments, one from Hoyt-Schermerhorn to Bedford-Nostrand in Brooklyn and the other from Bedford-Nostrand to Queens. And for 10 weeks, the G line is running express in Queens on weeknights.

The constant service changes have created confusion. "Even on a good day, it's chaotic on the G train," said Brenda L. Carpio, 28, a telephone operator who leaves her home in Red Hook, Brooklyn, at 5:30 a.m. to reach her job at a car service company in Sunnyside, Queens, by 7. "On weekdays, it can be pretty reliable, but on the weekends, not at all."

The G line's performance was defended by Emanuele Zanet, the G line superintendent at New York City Transit, the transportation authority subsidiary that operates the subways. "It operates quite efficiently, on time and on schedule," he said.

Statistics show a mixed picture. From 9 p.m. to 6 a.m., en route schedule adherence - a measure of nighttime service reliability - improved significantly, to 80.6 percent in the third quarter of this year from 61.3 percent in the same period last year.

But from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m., when most trips are taken, the wait assessment - the percentage of times that the wait between trains falls within acceptable limits - dropped slightly, to 91.6 percent from 85.9 percent. Both of the G indicators are comparable to those of most of the other 25 subway lines.

Mr. Zanet, who has overseen the line since February, attributed the slippage to signal and switch malfunctions, police actions, stops to wait for help to arrive for sick customers and other disruptions.

The G line has been renamed and reconfigured several times since it was born as part of the Independent Subway System in 1933, but probably the biggest change came in 2001, when the 63rd Street tunnel was completed. The F was rerouted through the tunnel, which would have left the E as the only line leading into Manhattan under 53rd Street. To relieve crowding on the E and F, the V was created to run from Forest Hills to the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
Because there were only so many trains that could use the station stops in Queens, New York City Transit proposed permanently shortening the G, so that its last stop would always be Court Square. Otherwise, officials said, the G, R and V lines would get backed up in Queens.
An uproar ensued, and the agency agreed to keep running the G line to Forest Hills - but only in evenings, at nights and on weekends. The change never sat well with riders. "The V wasn't really necessary," said Mildred Powell, 45, a housekeeper who used to take the G directly to her job at Elmhurst Hospital Center in Queens. Now she must use three lines a day, instead of two.
Many riders today say the subway map is misleading because it depicts the G line from Court Square to Forest Hills as a dotted line - a tantalizing representation of what the line used to be and now so rarely is.

Kenneth K. Fisher, who represented most Brooklyn neighborhoods along the line as a City Council member from 1991 to 2001, said the G has long lacked powerful supporters. "It served a largely poor and working-class constituency," he said, "and it traveled through some neighborhoods that didn't have a lot of residents or were perceived as high-crime, which kept ridership down."

That may be changing. Neighborhoods around the G line have been bustling with luxury high rises, art studios and new restaurants. Greenpoint has become a hub for independent filmmakers, loft condos are proliferating in Fort Greene and residential towers are going up in Long Island City.

Ridership has climbed. The G line now delivers an average of 38,869 each weekday, up from 35,227 in 2000, not counting stations south of Fulton Street that are shared with the A, C or F lines. That means more riders are learning the G-line sprint.

"I don't like to see people running after the trains," said John M. Kinyk, a train operator on the G. "It's not safe. The people ask, 'Where's the rest of the train?' "

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Oh the horror!

I was sitting in a hole-in-a-wall diner today, eating my two eggs over easy with sausage and I overheard people behind me talking about the Times article on bedbugs. They’re not just taking over our beds - they’re taking over our minds! People are eating, sleeping, dreaming, thinking, and scratching bedbugs!

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Not a slightest bit of fuzz

Lately something really weird has been going on. It left me confused, perplexed, and I have no rational explanation for any of it. Perhaps the Apocalypse in nearing or something has been slipped into the New York City’s water.

For some reason, wherever I go, someone calls me “honey” or “sweetie.” And I am not talking about someone who has meaning in my life, because then I just feel all fuzzy inside; I mean people at the deli, the cashier at Duane Reade, random person asking me for directions to Fordham. And there are definitely no fuzzy feelings on my part. I cannot explain this at all because usually I look like crap and most of the time, I am pissed off at some moron who cannot get out of the way quickly enough. Lately, thanks to the never ending papers that are all due in the next two weeks, I look double crappy and triple exhausted. Yet the other day, a guy behind the counter at a deli gave me a cup of steaming hot peppermint tea and said: “here you go, sweetie.” I am sure I rolled my eyes and then when I turned toward to cashier, she said: “would you like a bag for you tea, honey?” I don’t know, maybe the guy behind the counter and the cashier lady had some lovin’ the night before but then a few weeks ago, a cashier at Duane Reade called me “sweetie” when I thanked her. Since the deli and the Duane Reade are fairly far apart from each other, I doubt there was any sort of a connection between all three.

On top of this, all of the sudden, once or twice a day someone asks me for directions. And I checked, there isn’t a sign anywhere on my body that encourages people to ask me for directions. I remember a few years back, someone was telling me that I don’t look very approachable and that I need to smile more. I told that person that I am fine with not being approachable. So if I am not that approachable and I am not all smiles, why are all these people asking me for directions?

I am sure this makes sense to people in the South or Midwest or something but in New York, it just doesn’t make sense.

Enough of procrastination. I wish papers wrote themselves.