waagnfnp

Well perhaps it is due to the following insanity in the form of an utterance by the official Tibetan Communist Party boss, Zhang Qingli:

“Such a person who basely splits his motherland and doesn’t even love his motherland has been welcomed by some countries and has even been receiving this or that award,” Tibet’s Communist Party boss, Zhang Qingli, told reporters during the congress. “We are furious,” Mr. Zhang said. “If the Dalai Lama can receive such an award, there must be no justice or good people in the world.”

Wow, so vitriolic and idiotic at the same time. The arrogant assumption that Tibet is China, predicated on an invasion by Mao, and a cultural revolution that eradicated history for a billion people, seems to fly in the face of any reasonably intelligent human being with access to the internet and an interest in history. But there’s more of course; consider this:

“He should resolutely abandon his Tibetan independence stance and activities,” Tibet’s governor, Qiangba Puncog said. “But in my opinion, some of those activities are actually escalating and setting a lot of obstacles for further progress.”

Has that ring of a made man, you know like Tony Soprano, telling you to just shut up and “forgetaboutit”. “It’s a done deal, Tibet is China, so shut your trap!” And, I suspect most citizens of the US would prefer it that way. Why??
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On my experiences at the Big Summer Classic at Camp Zoe in the Ozarks of Missouri—part deux…

I left off mentioning the lack of access to substantive and reliable information sources (either through limited technological means or simply unknown to them), as expressed by the attendees of the Big Summer Classic (BSC). Heaven forbid that some of these folks (kids) would read blogs or review source materials on the internets. I could only imagine that for many of the parents of the attendees watchingamerica must be perceived as the most evil and communist (Stalin and Mao rolled into one) of sites, daring to present anti-US propaganda from furren gummints.

Among those willing to challenge and acquire the best sources, the keys to a larger world-filled library, I particularly remember a couple of students from Ole Miss in Oxford, MS, and a half dozen from the University of Kansas in Lawrence, all of whom stopped me over the course of the weekend to get more references.

I will not mention their names, but I will offer some anecdotal referents. The couple from Ole Miss approached me late (early in the morning) after the show on Sunday to discuss their needs. Approached may not be the correct word, more like cornered my old tour buddy (also our tour bus chauffeur) and myself in the back of a vending booth, and pulled out paper and pens and had us try to write down URLs and other site resources for them.

They had also agreed to visit one of our Otter Clan projects (a massive rebuilding program of homes on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi) and needed that contact information. They really wanted to do something powerful, creative, active, and good, and when they made their requests in the most beautiful Southern drawl eva, I could not even begin to say “later.”

The University of Kansas contingent was led by a young woman graduate student, who had grown up in the Midwest, but had been able to attend a prestigious East Coast university.
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Some preferences and prejudices are so deeply ingrained that often we don’t even realize we are harboring them. And even if we are consciously aware of them, the correctness of our particular perspective on the matter seems so patently obvious that it doesn’t even occur to us that anyone else in the developed Western world could have a differing view, because, how could they? Why would they? They couldn’t, and they wouldn’t. Right?

When one is suddenly confronted with a radically differing view of something (regardless of, or perhaps because of however mundane it may be) that couldn’t possibly have a differing view, the shock of it rattles to the core. First, because you are caught off-guard - you can’t be prepared for something you didn’t know existed. Second, because without warning, you have an entirely different world view of the matter to contemplate. And in situations where the long-term, ruminating over it for years type of contemplation is not required, it still might be something that stops you in your tracks (literally), and demands that you drop whatever you’re doing and contemplate it right now.

One of my so-deeply ingrained-it’s-below-my-radar prejudices got hit with a brick recently on the seemingly mundane subject of teeth. It happened when I read a passage in a book about the late, great British cellist Jacqueline Du Pre.** In the Winter of 1967-68, Jackie’s sister, Hilary, relates that Jackie said the following while relating tales of her experiences giving concerts in America:

‘You know, Hil, I’m fascinated by American mouths’, she suddenly announced, changing the subject completely. ‘Rows of perfect teeth, set in a hideous grin and a gushing “aren’t we pals” expression.’
Her mouth stretched to reveal a mass of grinning teeth, as she pranced around the kitchen.

What?! A Brit making disparaging remarks about American teeth? Granted, the statement is mostly a reflection on the socio-cultural differences between the British and Americans, but it’s the physical appearance of our teeth that lends the genuine creepiness factor, not the behavior. That a British person would find one of our most prized physical characteristics to be the icing on the altogether off-putting cake that is an American never even entered my mind. The Brits don’t make fun of our teeth, we make fun of theirs. That’s the order of things.

Or so I thought.
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[being a continuation of a meditation begun earlier]

Parable #2: Benjamin Rush and Yellow Fever

Philadelphia’s yellow fever epidemic of 1793 was the largest in the history of the United States, claiming the lives of nearly 4000 people, nearly 10% of the entire population of the city. In late summer, as the number of deaths began to climb, 20,000 citizens fled to the countryside, including George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and other members of the federal government (at that time headquartered in Philadelphia).

Into this stark landscape stepped a hero: Benjamin Rush, physician, public figure, signer of the Declaration of Independence. He mobilized medical efforts, orchestrated the construction of makeshift tent hospitals, and personally oversaw the treatment of hundreds, if not thousands of the stricken. He gave the city hope, when others offered nothing but stoicism, or despair.

His treatments were as heroic as the man himself. He favored bleeding, to the point of anemia, for a host of ailments, including Yellow Fever. To counter the “buildup of yellow bile,” he prescribed, calomel (mercurous chloride), as a purgative, and jalap, a powerful laxative. These sometimes caused his patients’ hair and teeth to fall out.
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Warning, this post is acronym filled, and may contain nefarious allusions, probably inappropriate but nevertheless, they exist.

UNITED NATIONS Copyright - A new treaty designed to promote and protect the rights of the world’s 650 million persons with disabilities opens for signature at the United Nations on Friday.

At its core, the Convention of the Rights of Persons with Disabilities ensures that persons with disabilities enjoy the same human rights as everyone else, and are able to lead their lives as fully-fledged citizens who can make valuable contributions to society.

Forty years ago, as an upper-division undergraduate student, I was offered one of those scholarship jobs that go to jocks and related others. These were legacy-based inheritances, passed along to the next class of student athletes by graduating seniors, eagerly anticipated by the younger, who have heard-it-through-the-grapevine that this or that is the coolest chance at getting paid to do nothing, or close to it. My offer was not for one of those cushy roles (lifeguarding the women’s gym pool {only male allowed}, or driving the little tractor that picked up golf balls), but rather a heritage role for those of us in a special and unique club (the fish lane). Ours was the strand that provided support staff for the Education and Psychology departments’ on-campus education environments.
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By James Killus

I cried because I had no shoes,
’till I met a man who had no feet.
So I said, ‘You got any shoes you’re not using’?

– Steven Wright.

My last summer at RPI (Rensselear Polytechnic Institute), when I was putting some finishing touches on my Master’s Project, I had a roommate named Ed Kulis. This isn’t going to be a “funny name” essay, though I acknowledge the potential..

I had a pretty good apartment down on 10th St., close enough to campus to walk if I wanted, far enough that it wasn’t embarrassing to drive. I’d had a couple of other roommates while there, but there were also several stretches where I lived alone. One of the nice things about the place was that it was cheap enough that I could do that.

Anyway, Ed always drove. The first thing I ever noticed about him was that he walked funny. A short while into our acquaintance, when we were walking across a parking lot, having just climbed some stairs, I asked “What’s wrong with your legs?”

“What legs?” he replied, and grinned a little.

Several years earlier, Ed’s car had broken down on the Sawmill Parkway, just north of New York City. It was a VW, engine in back, and while he was checking the engine, a truck hit him. He woke up several days later in the hospital, minus much of his legs. One ended mid thigh, the other had a bit left below the knee. His “funny walk” was nigh onto a miracle of rehabilitation therapy and athletic level control of his prostheses.

The whorehouse Madame answers the door and at first doesn’t see anybody. Then she looks down a bit and sees a guy in a motorized wheelchair. He’s a quadruple amputee, no arms, no legs.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says. “Let me in.”

“But you’re a quadruple amputee,” she blurts out.

“I rang the damn bell, didn’t I?” he replies.
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