Gollapudi Srinivasa Rao

— PHOTO: M. MURALI

Religious fervour: Women with ‘Bonalu’ at the Beeranna temple in Warangal on Sunday.

WARANGAL: Scores of women in their traditional attire carrying ‘Bonalu’ queued up in the lanes and bylanes of Karimabad area. Hundreds of people thronged the place to attend to the annual `Beeranna Swamy Bonalu’ festival. People in large numbers parked themselves on the buildings in the vicinity to see the ritual.

People dance to the beats of traditional percussion in gay abandon. The women who form long queues carrying bonalu walk over the sacrificed the animal. The festival celebrated on Ekadasi mainly by the Golla Kuruma community is the second largest Bonalu festival in Telangana region after of the Mahankali Bonalu of Hyderabad.

Women clad in colourful sarees and young girls in traditional `langa voni’ smeared in turmeric add colour to the celebrations. Potharjulu dance to the drum beats and people from all walks of life gather to enjoy the event.

Beeranna temple committee president and elderly man of Golla Kuruma community, Narige Bakkaiah said the festival is part of life of Lord Shiva. Lord Siva during his incarnation as Beeranna, a shepherd desires to marry his uncle’s daughter. His uncle, a land lord refuses to give his daughter to the poor shepherd. But, Beeranna moved by the love of the young woman hatches a plan and takes her away against the wishes of his uncle. The shepherd community considers Beeranna as incarnation of Lord Shiva and celebrates his courage and fearlessness. Every year, they offer prayers and celebrate Ekadasi because on this day, Beeranna marries his uncle’s daughter.

Warangal MLA B Saraiah, Congress leader Banda Prakash and several others were present.

The police made elaborate security arrangements for the festival to avoid any untoward incident during the festival.

The first one is here.

The second one is here.

The third one is here.

As I woke this morning I thought back to a situation where I could have potentially dedicated myself to a deity. I'm glad I didn't, because the truth is I'd make a horrible dedicant to a deity. I'm very casual about my relationships with any deity. I put the occasional offering out, but when it comes down to it, for me any relationship I have with a deity is ultimately not about service to the deity or its various fellow worshippers or the tasks it wants me to do. For me it's about the bargain. It's what can I do for you that will get you to do something for me. Or it's about forging a relationship of mutual benefit and friendship.

The role of priest or priestess isn't a role that fits me. While I can respect that people are called to that role, I couldn't ever see myself serving a deity in that way. Likewise I find the concept of being a god-slave unworkable for myself. I recognize that it might fulfill the needs someone else has to be in that role, but for me, it could never work and there's a fairly simple reason for that.

I'm blasphemous. I'd always question and challenge the god. When I was a Christian, long ago, I was always dissatisfied with the idea that I had to submit to some nebulous force that had all the answers and was willing to let people suffer in order to prove themselves to it. The comic Preacher, to me, represents the most accurate depiction of the Christian god, a cruel tyrant who seeks to force others to love him because he is fundamentally unable to deal with his own sense of fear and loneliness...so he creates a permanent co-dependent relationship with humanity, in order to get them to love him, while also tormenting them. I could never understand why a god would want unquestioning obedience and so if I couldn't give that to the Christian god, why would I give it to another god?

The posts I wrote above reflect that as well as my own beliefs about the gods. I agree with the Buddhist conception of deities, which is that they are ultimately enslaved and attached to their own power and consequently can't operate outside of what they represent. They becomes filters and doorways to access deep concepts, but in doing that they are also can't evolve or become anything else...unless of course they have interaction with human beings. By being served by humans they get access to experiences they might not otherwise have. For example, Invoke a god and what you do is provide a gatway to yourself, access to your energy and experiences. Of course you get access to that deity's energy as well and that can be useful for some people, but there's always a price. I've seen that price paid and the effect it's had on the people paying it, and I'm not sure the price is worth any power received.

I prefer bargaining to service, because service is ultimately submission. There is no guarantee you will get anything for your service, but with a bargain there are set conditions. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm a friend to a deity or demon...some people have argued that they prefer to create relationships with such beings that are friendly, but there's a question they don't ask, which is whether or not the deity/demon even comprehends the concept of friendship, or if it does, have they considered that the deity/demon might have an entirely different concept of friendship than what you have? They might think of you as a cat or a dog for instance.

So I go with bargaining. If I want something and I find I can't accomplish it through my own resources I find a being who can accomplish it, and we talk. What does it want in return for accomplishing something specific for me? In Purson's case, he wants a dedication to him in my next book on space/tiem magic and his sigil on the cover of my solo occult books. Fair enough, I can do that. I'm happy to give him credit where credit is due.

In the last nine months I've been working with Babalon. In fact, the situation I was reflecting on today was a possible dedication to her. Working with her has been challenging. She definitely demands a lot when you work with her. Last October when she made it very apparent that I would be working with her for a year in my element of love balancing work, she told me it would get harder before it got easier and it did get harder before it got easier. Even now as this working is descending into the final three months there are definite challenges she has for me. I wouldn't have it any other way. She told me she'd be my guide for the year long love working, that she'd help me get balanced about love. And she is. At one point I did dedicate myself to her, but in a moment of clarity I realized I hadn't dedicated myself to her, for her sake or my own, but someone else's, and she agreed that such a dedication wasn't something that she wanted. She is still with me for the next three months, perhaps even beyond, guiding me in my journey about love...and her price for it is not service to her or tasks to be done, but rather simply to know that I will continue doing the work for the course of this year and beyond to keep myself balanced in love and to really understand how to manifest love for myself and to others. I can live with that...and it occurs to me that a deity with that understanding of me is a deity I can respect because that deity isn't necessarily out to have my service, but does want some kind of understanding to exist.

In fact, my experience with babalon shows me that experiences with deities are subjective and end up occurring at exactly the level that is needed for a person. While one person may very well need to be a god-slave to a god, another person may just need a guide for a year. And yes it does boil down to need. I think a very important question any person needs to ask about serving a deity is: What need within myself does this service fulfill? There is always a need being fulfilled. Certainly working with babalon is fulfilling some deep needs within myself...needs that are becoming balanced. Could I have fulfilled those needs without working with her? Perhaps, but I believe it would've taken a very long time, whereas working with Babalon brought the situation into detailed focus. And so perhaps those people that seem to pay a price in my eyes, aren't really paying that price. They serve the deity in the way they do, and yet they get a need fulfilled, a need which they may or may not be conscious of, but yet if that need went unfulfilled...I think it comes down to an essential issue of identity, which is how much a person's needs define the interactions and experiences a person has, and who/what those experiences occur with.

I watch Lupa and her growing relationship with the spirits. We are definitely going on some different spiritual paths. Yet I also see that her spirit work is definitely fulfilling needs within her. It's helping her refine her path, serve other people, etc., but it's also meeting some needs within her. She seems more balanced to me as a result of doing the spirit work she's doing.

As for service...I think my own service is not to a particular deity or whatever concept it represents. My service ultimately goes to the communities I am part of, the people I interact with, the choice to help someone find his/her potential and realize it. That is my service...not to any one being or belief, but rather to the realization that we are all connected and so if we can help each other grow and realize the effect we have on this planet, on the other life forms on this planet, and on each other, we can choose to make that effect be beneficial instead of detrimental.

Tomorrow it will be hello to Kelly Ledbetter, whoever she is.  My new self.

Tomorrow.

I don't feel able to communicate what I want to say, so I'm going to go pack my suitcase for my honeymoon in Oregon.  (Never thought I would be writing anything like that.)

When I return, I will be someone else, only complete this time.

(Little Miss Cornshucks - Try A Little Tenderness)

Shooting The Monkey (freedom from the distracting ego)

'Has your majesty never observed the bounding monkeys?' answered Chang to the King of Wei. 'If they can reach the tall cedars or camphor trees, they will swing and sway from their limbs, frolicking and lording it in their midst, so that even the famous archers Yi or P'eng Meng could not take accurate aim at them, But when they are attracted to what they suppose are delicacies and find themselves among the prickly mulberries, brambles, hawthorns, or spiny citrons, way below their loftier arena, they must move with caution, glancing from side to side, quivering and shaking with fear.

'It is not that their bones and sinews have become suddenly stiff and lost their suppleness. It is simply that the monkeys find themselves in a difficult and disadvantageous position, one where they cannot exercise their abilities to the full. And so it is when Man becomes full of himself. His attraction to what is seemingly of benefit and greater security to him actually distracts him from expressing himself in his full light.'

'I like that tale, ' said the King of Wei, 'but knowing you as I do, I have no doubt that the monkey is merely a metaphor for Man's own mischievous self. Our fall from our true identity causes us to improvise and clutch at a false identity with the same desperation as someone falling continuously into the abyss.'

'Exactly so!' said Chang gleefully. 'In the absence of the true knowledge of who we really are, our adopted self must keep alive its fictional existence with convincing, albeit empty, chattering.'

'Chattering which is taken to heart rather than ignored,' said the King. 'Incessant and sweet chattering thoughts that, while sometimes a nuisance, sweetly persuade, convince, cajole, even scare us into believing that if we want protection, security and peace of mind, there is no other self worth listening to.'

'And if such a self was indeed a monkey, how would you, as a sagely king, deal with it?' enquired Chang.

'Why I would ensure that both Yi and P'eng Meng practised harder, until they were successful,' his monarch replied with amusement.

'And how so for your own self, is it also a case of shooting the monkey?' asked Chang.

'Again, I would employ and develop those decisive archer parts of my own being to unmask myself.'

'Well said, my King, for only by such action will you rid yourself of a fictional power that ultimately renders you powerless.'

i remember the streets being alive with danger - now all that's left, it seems, are packs of young hyenas who only feed on the weak and wounded. there are no lions on the streets any more - no tigers burning bright - only scavengers. so many young, clean faces - so few scars. i walk past your cute little clubs, with your cute little bands, and feel as if i've wandered into an amusement park, with nothing more frightening than a ferris wheel.

there aren't any young rebels, pioneers, angels, demons, assassins - everyone is in costume, with nothing real to change into afterwards. there is no subculture - there aren't even any weekend warriors, because there isn't a weekend. instead it's casual fridays at the corporate theme park. except even that's meaningless, because nobody has a clue about anything that couldn't be described as casual.

no renegades of style - just young clerics in their hoodied hair shirts, with their long beards, their sandals. young ascetics dressed up like japanese cartoons, their eyes unnaturally large from too much gaming, too much twittering, too much fondling their handhelds. i saw no one dressed to kill - only dressed to blend in. only camouflage. there was no foreground music. only soothing background noises.

sitting here in my friend's apartment writing, i can hear the upstairs neighbors with their windows open fucking, crying weakly out into the night, as if begging for an audience. nobody is out on their stoop here. off the avenue, everything closes at 8 or 9. there aren't even any losers hanging out in the 7-11 parking lot - they've all found someplace to sleep.

the cafe called "insomniacs" is closed, the lights dimmed. false advertising, i think to myself.

the air is gentle, like italian air can be at the right time of year. the trees cluster shyly somewhat like they do in greenwich village - they don't explode like they do in philly or in rome or in cambridge. this place wants so bad to be so many places - it wants to be the little european burg with cafes and canals, with just the right edge of seaminess and red light around the edges; but instead it's just a pedestrian mall.

i just got off the phone with an old, old, old friend even more battered and scarred inside and out than i am, and we agreed that for want of a scene, it's time we did like we did back then, and create one. because did i forget to mention? we did. from scratch.  i'm not going to name any names or places - i'm sure your imagination can fill in the blanks and paint a picture familiar to you.

we are the ones who started the scenes that people talked about long after. it's time to get back to work, i told him; it's time to get out of this goddamned clark kent phone booth and put our superman capes back on.

see you on the street.

“In a traditional Muslim society, an individual’s identity is given by that person’s parents and social environment; everything from one’s tribe and kin to the local imam to the political structure of the state, anchors one’s identity in a particular branch of Islamic faith. It is not a matter of personal choice. Like Judaism, Islam is a highly legalistic religion, meaning that religious belief consists of conformity to a set of externally determined social rules.” 

     This quote by Francis Fukuyama focuses on the fact that Muslims rely on their social structure including the political structure of their states governance, their imam (Islamic community leader, usually leader in the Mosque as well) and their culturally traditional communities and families to determine their entire identity. Fukuyama examines this particular culture because it in itself is a byproduct of itself. This poses a problem for the notion of globalization as a (peaceful) reality because of the fact that “religious belief consists of conformity to a set of externally determined social rules,” and the Islamic and Muslim people aren’t going to just up and drop their entire cultural belief system.

“Identity becomes problematic precisely when Muslims leave traditional Muslim societies by, for example, emigrating to Western Europe. One’s identity as a Muslim is no longer supported by the outside society; indeed, there is strong pressure to conform to the Western society’s prevailing cultural norms.” (p.10)

The above quote by Fukuyama further defends the fact that should the concept of globalization become an entire reality, some cultures such as that of the Islamic people will eventually, if not rather quickly, be lost, de-saturated by the new identity (the assimilation of all other cultures.) He also goes on later to describe his belief that the cause of the September 11^th attacks (as well as other incidences) are due largely in part to the creation of radical Islamism; the product of the already coalescing cultures of the western world and Islam. Fukuyama explains that children, torn between two completely different identities with which they cannot relate wholly to either, they find an appeal in radicalism and contemporary jihadism (the new, incredibly extreme belief in Islamic religion.) Thus the creation of this identity crisis is not only a threat to the thought of globalization, but it is also a threat to any culture (especially nations with a culturally imperialistic nature) that has different beliefs and values than their own. In conclusion, Fukuyama has made it evident in the above quote, and in his writing Identity, Immigration and Democracy that although globalization and the assimilation of culture, people, economy, technology…everything…into a well rounded, peaceful group is a great conception, it is not an easily attainable reality due to crisis of identity in culture and tradition.

And she journaled. Extensively. Pity almost all of those journals have been destroyed.

To a lesser extent, Tracy wrote. She was less gifted, but made up for it as best she could by working on craft. She destroyed her own work as she went, despising her creations as she despised herself.

The rest of us... well. We write a lot of things to each other in the course of navigating our life. We keep calendars and journals to track medications and when was the last time we did this, how long since we did that. We have a common shorthand of idiom, just as we have a common cosmology of symbols with which we communicate. And we blog.

But we don't write.

Things are changing. Again. *eye roll* And we're ill. I don't know what the problem is -- yet -- but we are physically exhausted ALL the time. In this confluence of events I found myself suddenly wanting, for the first time really, to write. To just sit down with paper and pen and write.

I wonder if it is possible to write oneself well? Probably. I wonder if it is possible for me?

So far it's a fun experiment. I pulled our dusty copy of Writing Down the Bones from the shelf, and with some trepidation I've begun to write. Not the bones of anything -- not yet -- but some blood perhaps, some sinew. It feels naked, to put things down in words. Words are more explicit and dangerous than my accustomed visual modes of expression.

It's exciting, in a good way, this writing.

Eight

Late last week, there was a surge in searches for the graphic representation of Swastika so much so it showed up on Google Trends. TechCrunch’s Michael Arrington wrote a post on it here and mentioned it in a tweet here. It was Arrington’s tweet that I responded to, admittedly less calmly than I do with strangers, and it got me the following response from Michael Arrington:

I was also promptly blocked from following TechCrunch’s tweets, which is really no loss since being more ‘global’ in my outlook, I rarely read the Valley-centric site.

Meanwhile the ongoing conversation on Arrington’s post got hotter until Arrington came out to say that the meaning of the Swastika had been changed by World War II so the rest of us should just ‘get over it’. Expectedly that piece of advice went down like a lead balloon with many of TechCrunch’s readers – including many westerners who have travelled to and worked in other cultures – and the discussion there on got hotter and hotter.

Like much else, this is a multi-faceted controversy. I have taken a whole week to write about this for one reason - I want to have a reasoned approach to debate, and sometimes it is best to let things cool down a bit.

About the Swastika

I do not consider the Swastika a Hindu religious symbol but as identities go, it is a part of my complex, multi-layered, multi-faceted identity. However, I do know that the Swastika does not need me or a billion other Indians and Chinese to defend its honour, so to speak. Many have written about it with more genuine and simply more authority than the gentlemen telling us to ‘get over it’.

That is, of course, my rational mind at work. But if you, like me, lived in Europe, the frequent doses of revisionism would get your otherwise placid and rational goat too.

Prince Harry wears a Swastika on his armband for a fancy dress party – arguably in bad taste for the second in line to a European throne – and alarmists in the European Union rush to seek a ban on the Swastika. The ban was narrowly avoided due to opposition from Britain and other states.

As revisionism goes, Neha raised a pertinent point in her comment on TechCrunch’s post:

“Just because the KKK burned men on stakes - do you get all worked up about someone Googling for the crucifix?”

Worth a pause for thought, isn’t it?

Since we are all so tetchy, isn’t it time to make a tough choice?

Should we stop discussing the meaning of any and all religious or cultural symbols altogether? Or should we seek not to display our ignorance in such full bloom and instead seek a constructive dialogue that enhances our awareness?

What will it be?

About Arrington and 'normal'

Leaving aside the debate about "normal" on the web, the more pertinent point is Arrington's advice (or whatever you wish to call it) to ‘get over it’.

It is unclear what we need to get over.

Should we get over a few thousand years of history and culture for a few years of war?

Why should a few billion - that is billion with a 'B' - people, whose culture and values are embodied in the symbol, give it up for a madman's antics?

Over on the TechCrunch post, B. Shantanu made the point whether it is not time now to re-assess the understanding of the Swastika in an increasingly globalised world. Arrington did not respond but one of the commenters, who identifies himself as Frank Church on TechCrunch’s post, said:

“Sure, Mike will just change the opinion of every uneducated and unthoughtful person in the western world, and, “reassert the original meaning and significance of the symbol”. You are also part of the Tard-wagon? If consumer perception were easily manipulated, advertising spend would be lots smaller than $200B+. Moron.”

Notwithstanding the unwarranted epithet at the end of that point – after all, this is not a discussion about breeding – this commenter has a point. Perhaps we are giving Michael Arrington too much importance. After all, he just writes a Valley rag about Valley businesses that even some stalwarts of the Valley do not read (I have received some Tweets to the effect but it would be churlish to stick them here). To him, it is his bread and butter. To the rest of us, it is a drop of information in the enormous ocean of knowledge that we need to survive in a growingly complex and truly globalised world.

The world that no longer brooks quietly any arbitrary revision of its heritage.

John Maynard Keynes famously said:

“When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, Sir?”

That Hitler’s misuse of the Swastika changed the western view of the Swastika is a fact. Some changed their mind after World War II.

But globalisation of the world economy and the shifting sands of the balance of power is also a fact. Time to change our minds again?

About Google and corporate censorship

Subsequently, Google apologised to its users for the 'mistake'. Google’s apology says:

“We have an automated system to identify and remove inappropriate or offensive material in Hot Trends. In rare cases, when such material is missed, we manually remove these results from our Hot Trends list. We apologize to any users who were offended by this situation.”

So, let me understand this. After Arrington, now Google is the arbiter of ‘inappropriate’ and ‘offensive’ on the web. Right?

Pardon me for asking the obvious but isn’t the entire premise of Google’s business is that the search is ‘automated’? Did Google not want us to believe that “the algorithm rules, ok?”? So does it or does it not?

If the algorithm does rule, I suppose this means that I can now not discuss Swastika in my private emails on Gmail either because it would bring up ‘inappropriate’ materials up in the ads on the sidebar.

If it does not, I assume it would be one of those ‘rare cases’ of Google manually removing those results. Would it not? Does that not mean that the emails are no longer private? Is that technically not snooping? If not, what is the term for it?

Either way, Google’s credibility is in question.

Google faced considerable flak when it decided to censor materials in exchange for getting entry into China. They defended it saying that some access is better than no access. They also tried to convince us – and nobody is really convinced - that this was in step with their ‘don’t be evil’ policy.

With India and Indians, Google has a different struggle at hand.

India is one of the very few countries where Orkut, not Facebook, is the social networking site of choice. It is unclear how much money, if any, Orkut makes for Google. But what it does do for Google is get a captive next-generation audience to its products and services. That is nothing to sneeze at, not in an increasingly globalised world, which may not be on Arrington’s Valley centric radar but definitely is on Google’s global radar.

Tell us, Google, do you really think it is worth it?

End piece

The brouhaha however confirms a few things for me.

In a world, where a generation is growing up with the internet as their virtual sixth sense, discretion is not a better part of valour; it is an essential value that needs to be evoked every now and then. It remains important that readers are able to separate “journalism” from “commentary”. The former should be value-free reportage seeking as much balance as possible, the latter nothing but a value-based comment.

The controversy also shows that the web will shape the dialogue on cultural hegemonies. It will be an ugly sausage-making process, and we shall all be witness to and active participants in it.

And last but not the least, anybody, who says ‘I don’t do politics’ better revise their cliché quickly.

Modern business and globalisation is nothing, but politics. The sooner we recognise that, the sooner we will likely understand the dynamics, the better equipped we will be to strategise to win in the ever-changing world.

Context makes a big difference, too: there's me at home, me at work, me at church, me in court, me online, me when I'm on my own - all quite different people in some respects. I'm sure there must be many other 'me's that don't come to mind right now.

The question, then, that I find myself pondering is this: where, in all this, is the "Real Me"? Is there such a thing? Are they all the Real Me? I've mentioned elsewhere that I often feel I don't 'fit in'. Is that because I'm being the wrong me? Or because I've lost track of who I really am - if I ever knew.

I do recall this subject coming up around the dinner table with friends once, and I thought it was interesting that Rachael seemed not to have any of these questions. Rachael is Rachael and remains so regardless of context. At the time we concluded that this might be a male/female difference, but I've since spoken to a couple of people who would disagree. Yes, some girls have thoughts like these, too.

The friend I was corresponding with recently came out with this:

It seems that at some time the brain (human) suddenly expanded and the two lobes had problems connecting all the different functions. One seems to act like a telescope whilst the other is a microscope. Great from a species point of view, (especially a tribal one), where the different views can give us finally a good answer, however, for some poor individuals the effect is confusion and a destabalising inability to focus.

Hence who am I and to whom?

The internal communication can sometimes be like a aural conversation... some people hear voices....

[Some people] soak up info excellently and don't suffer the destabalising influence of the two halves trying to make a decision with a multiplicity of views.

I think you have a fiesta in your head as to conversations but just enjoy the party spirit, whilst I (at times) slump in the corner and try to focus on one poor guest instead of enjoying the general atmosphere.

(Edited slightly to remove personal stuff)

I like that. There's a party in my head and everyone's invited!

Rather than naming one person you want to be like, take my seven categories from my Drive Within post for example. Social, Spiritual, Physical, Career, etc. Before I mentioned attaining a vague unattainable goal, so that you may explore and grow. Those should be your end goal by the time you die. An Identity should be who you are right now. This idea can be applied to the seven categories again.

Take the seven categories and place in them one name of someone you admire or aspire to be.

Just for example:

Physical: Leonidas
Social: Hugh Hefner * extravagance, widely known, crazy parties, not just the scantily clad woman :) *
Relationship/Sexual: Don Juan
Intellectual: Benjamin Franklin
Etc.

Next break these people/characters into three or four aspects of what them the people they are.

Leonidas - Warrior, Physically fit, Honor bound
Hefner - Business man, lover of women, well known for what he does
Don Juan - Suave, well known for what he does, roguish
Ben Franklin - Inventor, diplomat, publicist, and many many more

Now take those aspects and put them in one list combining similar or repeat attributes, and get rid of the names. You now have a core list of attributes you can begin to work into your personality/life/goal list.

I encourage you to put your own personal twist on each so you are not simply ripping off someone else's work or real personality. Creativity is key. In fact "creative" should be added to your attribute list as the first, middle, and last attribute to stress its importance.

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Filmspotting #159
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Theory: Tim Fite, "Bad copy"
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19:10-29:45 - Payee Whistles(OK Pile, Bullfight Movies)
Version: Tim Fite, "Matzo ball soup re the Cycle of indiction"
30:21-33:16 - Bloodshed Auditorium(Conquistador: Ryan Watkins)
33:17-41:46 - Silents: Upset concerning Joan anent Shock
Music roll: Tim Fite, "Extinct The Disaccord"
42:17-44:58 - Present-age DVDs, Donations
44:59-1:01:34 - Rind 5: Summerly'07 Movies
1:01:35-1:03:11 - Compacted/Neighboring Prove true/Out of humor... In no way outtake this seven!

CORRECTIONS/NOTES
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Guys like Paul Newell should learn from this guy about how to run an intern et campaign!  So what's his secret?

A simplistic answer would just be that Tevis "understands the internet."  He understands the power of an honest, witty, conversational blog.  He knows that people on the internet will self-organize around a good cause if it appeals to them.  This explanation totally ignores the mechanism of his success though.

Tevis' campaign funding is 'grassroots,' but grassroots campaign financing works by harnessing class or identity interests.  Obama's grassroots funding comes largely from the disposable income of his wine-track supporters.  Tevis' funding comes from a narrower base.  It comes from readers of Boing Boing.  It comes from people who are turned on by an homage to XKCD.  It comes from the web class.

Sociologist Manuel Castells has argued that as governments lose the ability to provide for the needs of their citizens, people will organize around other, non-national identities that give their lives meaning.  Somtimes these identities are tied to a particular region, like the Basque ethnic identity. But other identities, like the global feminist movement, and radical Islam, are indifferent to regional and state boundaries.

Tevis' campaign funding illustrates the mobilization of the bearers of a new identity like these others--the identity shared by lots of the people who are active in the most forward-point parts of the web.  There is a strong culture there, with its own communicative style, aesthetic sensibility, and core politics.  I will call the bearers of this culture the 'web class' (although I don't love the term and welcome alternative suggestions).

Don't believe me?  Perhaps you think that the majority of the donors were rallying around a general progressive agenda, accessible to all?  I think the title of Cory Doctorow's explosive shout out says it all:

Progressive geek looking for 3,000 people to help him win Kansas election against dinosauric anti-science/pro-surveillance dude

Yes, progressivism gets a mention.  But the clinching trifecta is:

• Tevis is pro-science.  The web class loves science, because they know the internet owes everything to science and see the improvements science can make in their lives each day.
• Tevis is anti-surveillance.  The web class is sensative to issues of surveillance and privacy because their day-to-day life is both highly exposed and at risk of digital attack.  The web class is constantly renegotiating what is public or private, and is loathe to lose control over that aspect of their lives.
• Tevis is a geek.  "Geek" is entirely an identity label, that denotes a shared outlook of creative practicality, as well as an independence from/rejection by "the mainstream."  The web class is largely constituted by geeks, and in this context the label is an honorific:  "He is one of us."

Like Obama's supporters, the web class is made up largely of young professionals and students who can spend their parents' money.  I'm pretty sure a subset of them were what kept Ron Paul's campaign alive for so long.  In addition, because geography is comparatively irrelvant to the web, it is just as irrelevant to web class politics.  (Several potential donors to Tevis' campaign--for a Kansas state government position--were legally unable to because they weren't U.S. citizens.)  This makes them an excellent base for remotely financing elections.  And if this sort of thing keeps up, then the web class will have some serious political clout across U.S. for the years to come.

Is this a good thing?

I'm ambivalent.  On principle, I object to the heavy role of money in politics, even if that money is 'grassroots.'  In this case, the fact that most of Tevis' donors are likely from out of state gives me additional worry.  On the other hand, I appreciate Tevis' politics, and believe that, for example, the project of science and scientific education is one that transcends and supercedes the project of democratic legitimacy.  Part of me feels strongly that the web class should not hesitate to take politics into its own hands.  What do you think? Comments are very welcome.

1. Hungary economic news (Hungarian Spectrum)- "the government had to change its prognosis for the rate of inflation. In the spring the prediction was 4.8%, but later that had to be changed to 5.9% and now to 6.5%." Interestingly though, "Hungarian businessmen [tend to] be more optimistic than the population at large?" (see the last paragraph).
2. The role of sex appeal in Russian, Belarusian, and Ukrainian politics is explored by David Marples. Don't miss the discussion about Vladimir Putin and a ball gymnast, Alyaksandr Lukashenka and his mistress, and why Yulia Tymoshenko handles her eggs better than Viktor Yanukovych.
3. For a succinct review of nation as a social construct and the role of identity, here is Matt Eckel at the Foreign Policy Watch.
4. Living in Moldova? Your salary payments may be late. That's the message from the Moldova Economics and Trade Ministry. But hey, cheer up because salary arrears have decreased from last year (read the full story).
5. About how Grigory Pasko got a letter from the Nord Stream headquarters in Switzerland answering Pasko's ten questions voiced in his blog, you can find out at Robert Ambsterdam's blog (available in English and Russian).
6. If you thought that tension over Kosovo is old news, you're wrong. How small things matter can be seen from the fact that Albania recently saw its membership in the International Volleyball Federation (IVF) suspended, because it scheduled a game with a country/territory not recognized by the IVF or Serbia, the petitioning party. Also learn what FIFA ruled on a similar subject at Three Kings.
7. And finally, watch the story of a tiny dog that has been barking nonstop for 6 years at ONN.

I especially feel for her as she battles the sticky label of "The Queer" --- in fact, it really frightens me, the possibility (eventuality?) of my becoming "The Tranny," because it's not an identity I aspire to, but rather just a nature I'm becoming. If we express our nature, it's both invisible and pervasive because it's not something we wear or put on airs about, but something that infuses our countenances and our speech and our gestures. You can see it if you look hard enough for it (like Whitman under your bootsoles), but it's invisible in normal relations. I'm intellectually excited about the times to come, and I'll help out around the university and the city when it comes to trans* issues, but I'd rather not be the token Trans*person. It's as frightening as being the Black, or the Woman, or the Marxist -- those categories box us in and the labels are so sticky as to be virtually indelible.

In thinking about Rachel, I thought she didn't like me when we were introduced. Contrary to her hypothesis that I held back because I might be discovered, I didn't really ever worry about being discovered by lesbians or gays because I had learned over the years that just because you had Gaydar didn't mean you had Transdar (see Ellen Andersen's column about my announcement in Bilerico). But what I was afraid of, especially with Out gays and lesbians, is that I would feel squashed down into my little pre-defined category of straight, boring, white guy, when inside I knew I was a lot more than that. I envied their exuberance and ended up becoming exactly what frightened me most: the uber-closeted tranny, thus perpetuating the shell I disliked.

Rachel was much more closed, or perhaps subtle, and I doubt I felt these things about her. If I can recall, I suspect that I felt her judgment, intellectual, gender, and human --- maybe that's my fault for building her up as a person of exceptional quality, or maybe it's just that people who are like her and me, naturally quiet and reserved, convey what other people perceive as judgment or confidence, when in reality, we're just observing the world and listening to the non-stop inner monologue that narrates our lives. If Rachel feels that she missed out in chumming it up with me, I feel an equal loss.

I wonder how many potential relationships end up in the "non-actualized" pile because of mutual fear, hesitation, or reticence? It's not really a rhetorical question, at least these days, because what I've discovered is that when you make an earth-shattering announcement about your very identity, the people who don't run screaming (and they aren't many, really) see it as an occasion to open up and share their stories. I have "met" a bunch of people I thought I already knew before, but actually only skimmed the surface, and I like it. I feel like I'm part of humanity, like I'm finally part of a larger conversation that I barely knew was happening. I've been standing outside a nice house, seeing through partially shuttered windows the party guests laughing and chatting and touching and whispering, not fathoming what they're saying or doing, but knowing deep down that I have been excluded somehow.

The internet is a beautiful thing, a garden that allows these sorts of relationships to grow --- maybe because we're unburdened from our face-to-face sizing-each-other-up or our jealousy or our sexual attraction or our timidity. However these seedlings get started, I'm committed to nurturing them, and living the second half of my life tending them --- there's a lot of living to do and a lot of hiding to make up for, and if flying to meet Rachel or flying her down to Bedford Falls to spend some time is part of that process of relationship husbandry, I'm game.

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on shadow'd wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

Well I guess today was one of my "good" days.

I was invited to a wedding this afternoon.

And even though I correctly assumed that there would be a professional photographer and video guy covering this event..

My instincts still told me that I needed to pull out the ol' Digital SLR and bring it along.

Well I'm sure glad I listened to Mr. Intuition today.

Because along comes a truly exotic young lady named Zarina who had traveled all the way from a remote and isolated little city in Central Kazakhstan to attend this wedding.

And of course as fate would have it.. she was exceedingly pleasant to socialize with even if she was a little on the shy side of the equation.

It turned out that this sublimely beautiful girl is also exceptionally talented and disciplined since she already speaks fluent English..

Oh and get this..

Because Zarina is about a third Asian with her nationality..

She has selected Mandarin Chinese to be ONE of her university majors and has set a goal to be completely fluent in it within 4 years which totally blew my mind.

Oh yeah.. her other major is going to be in Economics.

Can somebody say.. "These women are from a different planet?"

Oh and one more thing..

She's only 19.......

Gee maybe there's IS something in the drinking water here.

Soooooooo..

After some more small talk Zarina wanted to know what I did so I told her about my little hobby involving photography and this blog.

As you can probably guess she was genuinely interested because from her perspective I'm sure that bumping into some American guy living out here who does this in his spare time is more then a little unusual.

Naturally I politely asked to take some photos of her..

And after a few seconds of thinking...

She let a shy but lovely little smile slip out..

And softly said yes..

What does all this have to do with my mother in law and her birthday....well, she is one who is real, vulnerable, and authentic.  Today is her birthday and she is having a tough day and it has nothing to do with being a year older because, quite honestly....I think she really, truly is "over all that" nonsense.  There were bigger issues on her mind.  As she ate lunch with us she was free to be herself, free to not have to act like a super, spiritual giant that has everything under control.  That freed her up to "loosen up", laugh with her family and allow her own children to encourage her to help her get through the day.  She may have some tough circumstances right now, but she knows her God, she knows who she is, and who she belongs to and that is enough for her.  She knows Grace Himself intimately.....she loves Grace and Grace knows and loves her.  She knows she is secure in Grace and knows that Grace will provide for her.  She knows that Grace is in control of her circumstances and the people around her.  She even knows that Grace will thoroughly work all things together for her good and His Glory. 

Now that's my mother in law.  Just by being in her presence, she makes me want to be better - to be the best person that I can be - to desire to be all that God intends for me to be.  Yes, I know some of you may be flipping out that someone can actually say they have a mother in law like that.  Well, you see, I prayed for a long time for a "wonderful, spirit filled mother in LOVE" and she was worth the wait!  Even when I struggle and fall back in my legalistic ideas of living, she speaks grace to me and loves me just the way that I am and accepts me as one of her own - no rules, no expectations (maybe except to love her son-ha-ha), no requirements.  She just loves.

You may be wondering who my mother in law is.  Well, because of who she is and her humility she would not want her name mentioned in something like this.  If you know her you would agree with me.  She would only want your prayers and for you to come and get to know this man who changed her life - Grace Himself - Jesus Christ.  She would tell you that when you experience Him and hear what He has to say about you - you would fall in love with Him immediately.  So, what are you waiting for...."Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

So....to a wonderful, spirit filled "Mother In Love".....Happy Birthday!  If I could turn out to be just half of what you and my own mother are like.....wow.....that would be awesome!  I am so blessed!

Dana

Nine months in and I just celebrated my anniversery with my wife, and the anniversery of when we met in person. We've been married two years and I did a lot of thinking about that and what marriage has taught me these last two years, and in particular the last nine months. This last month has continued me on that path of being open and vulnerable with her, without expectation....just letting her in and also letting myself in. Seems to me that you can't really know yourself or love yourself until you let yourself in to you...and if that sounds like a paradox, its really not...we build so many shields to other people that we end up putting ourselves outside the shield as well. No one wants to feel again the shame or humiliation for something done in the past, and yet to really be with yourself is to sometimes feel those feelings again so you can really let go of them, instead of holding them in you.

So in opening up to Lupa, I have had to open up to myself...and really that process has been occurring for the last nine months, not just with her, but with other people. Sometimes I've shut it down, not really able to handle that vulnerability...It takes work, a lot of effort, and there's also selectivity, because not just anyone fits the bill in terms of being open with someone...and it takes honesty, which isn't a quality I've ever had an easy relationship with. When you are used to hiding from yourself so that you hide from others, it takes work to stop hiding. For me, a victory is when I can choose not to act on impulse, but can stop, really look at it and then bring it up to myself and Lupa. No easy thing to do, but when it happens, I do feel better for it.

I think what I've really learned about love is that the initial period of being "in love" may seem like the best time to people, but what's really the best time is finding that intimacy, that belief in each other, and in yourself, when you've been in a relationship for a while. That requires a lot of communication, but also openness with someone. At the same time I have to admit I can really appreciate my intuition on who I can be open with...it's not for everyone that I could be so open with. Openness with yourself or someone else takes time...it has to happen at the pace that you're comfortable with, even in the other person wants you to open up at a different pace. But as a person opens and really lets someone in, as well as hirself, it does make for an opportunity to really discover the self and share it.

In thinking about the last nine months of love work and what has been asked of me in this work...As each layer has come away, as each moment has revealed to me what I need to sit with, as each person has come into my life or already been there, or left, I find learning opportunities...desire, intimacy, friendship, openness...and really a challenge to myself is what will you do with all that you've learned...How will you use it, now that you've experienced it...what meaning will these last nine months and the next three months have in the book of your life.

The answer is being written, found, chosen, lived, slowly but surely.

I, for one, hope they never discover who he really is for sure.  I prefer to keep the mystique of it all.  I also can't imagine the fines he would face if they ever discovered who he really is.

I think it's more important to take a lot at what this man has been able to do.  It's FREAKIN' BANANAS!!!  There has never been a graffiti artist that has "gotten up" in the kind of places Banksy has over and over again without ever being discovered.  The man is a GOD.  There isn't another person in the history of the world that his done what he has done.  Banksy is also a conscious artist.  He's not just doing "throw ups."  He paints thought provoking messages that raise questions about ourselves, society, politics, art, and much more.  He's a REVOLUTIONARY.

I could go on forever.  There will be a movie and a documentary about this man in our life-time.  No doubt about it.

For now, lets pay homage to the greatest ever!

***Banksy’s largest piece ever!***

Banksy strikes again in LA?

Banksy strikes in LA again!

Damien Hirst & Banksy painting goes for $1.8 million

George Michael wants Banksy to graffiti his house for 2 million

Reading Buying In, I am reminded of the empowerment of the iPod. Rob Walker offers that the mp3 player is one of today’s great identity tools, and he quotes a Sussex Professor who explains “people define their own narrative through their music collection.”

Having been thinking about brands and individuality a bit lately, my next logical thought was about brand playlists. I found myself racing through a list of my favourite companies and thinking…

What would [insert brand here] have on their iPod?

It’s a fun exercise that I think I may spend some time with. For the first example I thought I’d stay on hype and look at the brand of the day. The Dark Knight opens today to oceans of positive noise. However, not being a huge Batman fan, I’d be hard pressed to do this musical dive justice. Luckily my friend Liam, of PopGunning fame, is a Batman super-nerd and ex-music-critic.

So I asked Liam if he’d play mix maker – tasking him with the question – if TDK was a person, what would his iPod look like? (Liam assures us TDK is male). Here’s what he assembled:

The Dark Knight's iPod

Some people might say this is a silly example because movies already have soundtracks. Well, yes, but brands aren’t who they say the are. They’re who we say they are. So big thanks to Liam for the bad-ass unofficial TDK soundtrack.

Next Friday: What’s on [insert brand here]’s iPod? … any requests? anybody want to take a shot at one?

-----

Liam held a little TDK anticipation party in his backyard last weekend complete with homemade screen (photo), vintage previews, clips from all the past Batmans and a full showing of Batman Begins. You can't buy free-marketing like that.

...we develop a functional self-image, even if it is a negative one. The little boy paints his red wagon a speckled gray with whatever Father left in the can after putting a new coat on the backyard fence. “Look what I did!” he says, hoping for affirmation of the wonderful impact his presence has on the world. The angry father shames him: “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve ruined it.” The boy forms an identity: My impact is awful; I foul good things up. I am a fouler. And he forms a commitment never to be in a place where he can foul things up again. Years later, his colleagues wonder why he turned down an attractive promotion. The answer lies in his identity, an identity he received from the impact he had on the most important person in his world and his fear of ever being in such a place again.

I'm reminded that so much of what our sons will come to know and believe about themselves is passed, or bestowed, to them from their father. I spent some time a few days ago apologizing to my own son Cooper for expecting perfection from him. We had been watching "Disney's The Kid" and towards the end of the movie, Rusty's father becomes so exasperated with him that he begins to yell and shake him accusing him of something he did not do- it's horrific to watch and it really stuck with me. As the story unfolds, you come to see that a vow had been made at that moment by an 8 year old little boy..."I will NEVER cry again". And for 32 years, until his 40th birthday, he doesn't. That's a remarkable illustration of the power of a father.

As a father, I so want to affirm Cooper, and let him know how much I delight in him and how his father's heart is filled with love for him. Yet too many times what I bestow on him is a message like "You're not good enough and you'll never get it right." And so, when my sin is unmasked, I must go to him and ask forgiveness making sure he understands the truth - "You are incredible, I am proud of you, and I am crazy in love with you."

As I write these words, tears are streaming down my face. I have yet to hear these words from my own dad. Yes, I imagine it's true but it was not bestowed to me as part of my identity...to know in my innermost being that I am the apple of my dad's eye! I was left with the task of finding that part of my identity on my own, and for the better part of 30 years I've been looking for ways to feel that I matter to those that mean the most to me. Fathers, this is so crucial...we must not miss this role we have!

This is one of the driving forces behind The Father's Heart Weekend. If I'm not intentional about carving out moments with my son, they won't happen on their own. Time goes by too fast and the demands of life are too draining. I must do this for my son and I must do it now.

Why does this bug me?  It comes from my experience of growing up here in the U.S. as an Asian person.  When you're a child of color and you're only surrounded by images of white people, that tends to mess with your brain and psyche.  You feel excluded and marginalized.  It negates your sense of self.

Asians who grew up in Asia don't have this problem.  They were surrounded by positive images of Asians all through their childhood and they carry that confidence with them when they come to the U.S.

When I'm in Korea, I don't feel this problem because there are tons of positive images of Koreans everywhere.  Part of my psyche is at peace and I don't think about these minority issues.

Slowly but surely the landscape of American pop imagery is changing and we're seeing more and more Asians and people of color in the media and entertainment.  In the meantime, I and other people of color have to grin and bear it.

Is there a unique way of how we see things? And the things that we see? I believe there is.

It has been some time that I have been on Flickr; suffice to say I have many buddies there who are excellent photographers. During my Flickr Life, I have learnt a lot about photography, much more than I would have learnt in a formal setting.

When I think back
On all the crap I learned in high school
It's a wonder
I can think at all
And though my lack of education
Hasn't hurt me none
I can read the writing on the wall

And nearly as long as I have been on Flickr, I have had a RSS reader. And I have a feed that updates all photographs from my buddies on Flickr. Since I started, with about 7 - 8 contacts, I have 97 contacts. You can imagine that the feed gets updated very fast and becomes voluminous. Sometimes I have more than 300 posts (photographs) unread (unseen).

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colours
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama, don't take my Kodachrome away

All things become interesting after a while and you hope to read everything that you add to your feed. The feeds just pile up and you wonder if you are asking too much of yourself or you aren't reading enough.

If you took all the girls I knew
When I was single
Brought them all together for one night
I know they'd never match
My sweet imagination
And everything looks better in black and white

Coming back, is there a unique way of how we see things? And the things that we see? I believe there is. And I have learnt it because of my feed reader and my Flickr contacts. With more than 300 posts piling up. I usually quickly skim through all of them. The finger on the down arrow key works with the speed of sight (light?). As i scroll quickly, my eyes are fixed on the area where the photograph is to appear; adjusting for orientation of landscape, portrait, oddly cropped, and badly cropped photos

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colours
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama, don't take my Kodachrome away

I can almost always identify the photographer without having seen the name of the photographer in the feed. Perhaps it is a style issue. I doubt it. Many photographers I know vary their styles. I think it is just the way people see things, what they see, subjects, and their point of view. Many of the photographers take photos of flowers, for example. I can, yet, (almost always) identify who it would be.

Is it about signatures?

Do we always know what we sign? Do we know that we sign?

Text in Italics, Kodachrome, by Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel.

"Samid means 'the steadfast.' 'the persevering.' It is the name coined during the 1978 Baghdad Conference for the one and a half million Palestinians living under Israeli occupation. . . . We, who had been living under occupation for ten years, were now called on to be samidin and urged to adopt the stance of sumud: to stay put, to cling to our homes and land by all means available."

"Sometimes, when I am walking in the hills, say Batn el-Hawa –- unselfconsciously enjoying the touch of the hard land under my feet, the smell of thyme and the hills and trees around me –- I find myself looking at an olive tree, and as I am looking at it, it transforms itself before my eyes into a symbol of the samidin, of our struggle, of our loss. And at that very moment, I am robbed of the tree; instead, there is a hollow space into which anger and pain flow.
"I have often been baffled by this –- the way the tree-turned-symbol is contrasted in my mind with the sight of red, newly turned soil, barbed wire, bulldozers tearing at the soft pastel hills –- all the signs that a new Jewish settlement is in the making. This must be the beginning of pornography; the pains of a people have become my own personal, private ones. And the beauty of the hills and the olives have become symbols of my people. It is not any symbolism, but national symbolism that makes you into a land pornographer. It is the identification of the land with your people and through that with yourself. That is what the Gush Emunim people do –- and it is their united aggression that has awoken in me or, rather, rammed into me the same kind of national possessiveness. And with it, the flip side of their gloating –- the fury and the grief, and the image of an uprooted olive as a symbol of our oppression" (Shehadeh, 87-88).

What's in a name?  That which we call a rose
by any other name would smell as sweet.
-- Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, (II.ii.1-2)

I read a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't believe a rose would be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.
-- Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables

This week's Friday Five at the RevGals is about names and blogs and other fun stuff.  I haven't played in a while, so I thought I'd play this week.

1. So how did you come up with your blogging name? And/or the name of your blog?

On this blog, I've had two blogging names, hedwyg and warriormare.  Hedwyg has a silly story - Hedwig is a nickname that my ex used to call all girls/women he knew who had my (real) first name.  I'd actually never heard it before, back in the early '90s, but then Hedwig became popular as Harry's owl in the Harry Potter series.  When I chose a gmail address years ago, I knew it had to be Hedwig, but that was already taken, so I substituted the Y and presto!  Instant internet identity!  :-)  I looked up Hedwyg on a baby name web site recently, and learned that it means warrior, which was really interesting to me given that second handle.

The warriormare identity came to me from this Diesel Sweeties comic strip, which had been featured on boingboing.  I laughed so hard at that comic strip, and later decided that there's no reason a mare can't have a spear... and there's no reason a woman can't be a warrior.

The title of this blog came from its original purpose, which was to be a spiritual discipline of practicing gratitude, intentionally, every day.  I was going through a lot of very stressful, very annoying, very frustrating stuff, and was feeling myself begin the slide into a depression.  But after I started this blog, well, I found reasons not to be depressed.  I took control of as much of the stressful, annoying, frustrating stuff as I could, and I found ways to have the stuff I couldn't control taken care of (including just letting go of it).  I've kept the title, even though the blog has gone in some different directions, because it still reminds me to seek out the things of beauty, the things that give me joy, the things that feed me, the things I am grateful for.

2. Are there any code names or secret identities in your blog? Any stories there?

I used to use code names for my family members, in a previous incarnation.  Now I generally don't, though I try to refer to folks through the relationships and not their names, just to respect their privacy.  But before, my daughter's secret identity was Ladybug, and my son's was Bear... just because these had always been nicknames I'd used for them (among many, many others!).

3. What are some blog titles that you just love? For their cleverness, drama, or sheer, crazy fun?

I love My Manner of Life, because there is wording in some document or other about people whose manner of life could cause strain to the Anglican Communion.  I'm wondering who in the entire world has ever existed - with the possible, but not probable, exception of Jesus himself - whose manner of life wouldn't cause strain to somebody.

I think the new blog Crowded Handbasket has a great name, too.  My fiance - who is every bit as irreverent as I am - and I often talk about how we're both going to end up in hell.  And then we'll say, Handbasket for two, non-smoking please! I know asking for non-smoking in hell might be pushing it, but I figure hey, why not ask and see what happens.  :-)

And I also love mamabishop, which is written by the Rt. Rev. Carol Gallagher, who was our Bishop Suffragan here in Southern Virginia.  Mamabishop describes her identity - a mother and a bishop - but it also is a way of looking at the world that I wish more bishops carried.  Jesus talked about God loving us and caring for us as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and I think we could use more bishops who gathered us under their wings.  I will never forget the first time I saw Bishop Carol, at the ordination of two friends to the transitional deaconate, where she preached an amazing sermon.  After she'd removed her vestments for the reception, Carol was wearing her episcopal purple shirt, a black broomstick skirt, black sandals, and sunglasses atop her head.  And I thought, wow, I love this woman!  :-)

4. What three blogs are you devoted to? Other than the RevGalBlogPals of course!

This is tough - only three?!?  There are many I read regularly, but for the top three, I guess I'll choose the ICHC family of blogs, then MadPriest at Of course I could be wrong... (with a hat tip to the whole crazy, wonderful family that posts at Of course I could be on vacation... when MadPriest is away), and BoingBoing, where I get all kinds of wonderfully geeky techy copyrighty fun news.

5. Who introduced you to the world of blogging and why?

I think the first blogger I read who blogged regularly was RealLivePreacher, more than five years ago.  His writing is so honest, so authentic, so open, and I have admired him so greatly this whole time.  Then I fell in with the whole community of Godbloggers, Episcobloggers, and RevGalbloggers, and I'm just not going to leave!  I've found so much support, so much honesty (even when that's hard), so much caring and love and generosity and joy.  It's been great.

Of course, one of the ways my fiance and I got to know each other was through the blogs we've written over time.  This is my third blog, after two different ones named for the river stone that is such a key part of my spiritual identity, and at all three, my beloved and I have found insights about each other and our worlds, things we've shared in common and ways we complement each other, and connection from 700 miles apart.

Bonus!  Have you ever met any of your blogging friends? Where are some of the places you've met these fun folks?

Yeppers!  I wasn't able to make it to The Big Event or to the Festival of Homies, but I've had some one-on-one blogmeets.  Of course, I've met my fiance, who blogs at CanAm Ramblings now, and I've met DaddyRob of DaddyRoBlog.  I met Ann+ of One Wild and Precious Life back in 1999, but that was long before either of us had a blog.  Just this spring I met Rev Sharon of Another Loose Canon for the first time, and I've also met Richard of Grim Richard's Irregulars, since he was a high school friend of my ex-husband.  And, of course, I've met Carol Gallagher of mamabishop.

And a second bonus for Songbird, on the idea of your daughter's new identity...

Why not give her an identity as a fellow bird, to connect her with the theme of the blog, but also to give her wings and watch her fly.  Ask her what her favorite birds are, and what kind of bird she would want to be if she could be a bird for a day.  She might be a gaudy peacock or a bright cardinal or a humble sparrow.  She might be a mighty eagle or a talkative parrot or a singing canary.  Anyway, just a thought.