Hillary in Heels

If the Founding Fathers Went to Hogwarts

2016-06-07T04:49:00.000-07:00

Because it's important to mix and match your fandoms! (Disclaimer: some of the people mentioned are classified as "founding fathers," but I'm more inclusive than that, so have added some important people who, for certain reasons (biological or otherwise), will never had that elite classification.)

ABIGAIL ADAMS

Traits: Energetic, determined, mischievous, intelligent, deeply sympathetic, self-sacrificial, sincere

Is remembered for: Advocating for public education for girls

Memorable Quote: "I've always felt that a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting points of view he can entertain simultaneously on the same topic."

House: Hufflepuff

JOHN ADAMS

Traits: Private, quiet, disliked by many for his views, feared unrest and destabilization, argumentative, strove for black and white justice

Is remembered for: Blaming fasting for the reason he didn't get reelected

Memorable Quote: "The happiness of society is the end of government."

House: Slytherin

SAMUEL ADAMS

Traits: Political, leader, well-respected, decisive, agitator, influential, worked for the greater good

Is remembered for: His namesake beer

Memorable Quote: “It does not take a majority to prevail ... but rather an irate, tireless minority, keen on setting brushfires of freedom in the minds of men.”

House: Gryffindor

ETHAN ALLEN
Traits: Outdoorsy, leader, ambitious, protective of his group of people, confrontational

Is remembered for: "His" furniture and leading the Green Mountain Boys (shout out to the 802!)

Memorable Quote: "It is bad policy to fear the resentment of an enemy."

House: Slytherin

AARON BURR

Traits: Strives for personal glory, perseverance, ambition, being flip-floppity, brilliant, epicurian

Is remembered for: Killing Alexander Hamilton in a duel

Memorable Quote: "Law is whatever is boldly asserted and plausibly maintained."

House: Slytherin

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

Traits: Honest, humorous, faithful, eccentric, creative, intellectual

Is remembered for: Electrical experiments

Memorable Quote: "Being ignorant is not so much a shame as being unwilling to learn."

House: Ravenclaw

NATHAN HALE

Traits: Brave, works for the common good, likes action and adventure, seeks glory

Is remembered for: Being hanged as a rebel spy

Memorable Quote: "I regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."

House: Gryffindor

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

Traits: Ambitious, cunning, unafraid of conflict, concerned with his reputation, polymath, vain, arrogant, prideful, uncompromising, protective of people in his corner

Is remembered for: Founding America's first national bank

Memorable Quote: “A nation which can prefer disgrace to danger is prepared for a master, and deserves one.”

House: Slytherin

ELIZABETH SCHUYLER HAMILTON

Traits: Ambitious, political, highly efficient, devoted, family-oriented

Is remembered for: Starting the first public orphanage in NY

House: Hufflepuff

JOHN HANCOCK

Traits: Integrity, consistency, bravery, popular, outgoing, showy, friendly, influential

Is remembered for: His comically enormous signature

Memorable Quote: "There! I guess King George will be able to read that without his spectacles!"

House: Gryffindor

THOMAS JEFFERSON
Traits: Private, deep thinker, stoic, creative, ambitious, polymath, quill skill

Is remembered for: Writing the Declaration of Independence

Memorable Quote: "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."

House: Ravenclaw

JAMES MADISON

Traits: Sagacious, able to see practical application of theories, works for the common good, unafraid of conflict, fearful of power

Is remembered for: Being a staunch advocate for the Bill of Rights

Memorable Quote: "The essence of Government is power; and power, lodged as it must be in human hands, will ever be liable to abuse."

House: Hufflepuff

THOMAS PAINE
Traits: Passionate, persuasive, fiery, devoted to his cause, quill skill, agitator

Is remembered for: "Common Sense" and "The Rights of Man"

Memorable Quote: "These are the times that try men's souls."

House: Gryffindor

GEORGE WASHINGTON

Traits: Honest, virtuous, wise, dislikes philosophical discussion, self-sacrificial, works for the common good, traditional

Is remembered for: His honesty, his virtuosity as the first president of the USA, resigning from power to show America's strength

Memorable Quote: Observe good faith and justice toward all nations. Cultivate peace and harmony with all.

House: Hufflepuff

MARTHA WASHINGTON

Traits: happy, kind, helpful, gregarious, trustworthy, strong convictions, private

Is remembered for: Refusing to attend her husband's inauguration because she opposed his being president

Memorable Quote: The greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not our circumstances.

House: Hufflepuff

NOAH WEBSTER

Traits: persuasive, pedagogical, values education, quill skill, organization, ambition, likes order and rules

Is remembered for: Being America's greatest lexicographer

Memorable Quote: “The foundation of all free government and all social order must be laid in families and in the discipline of youth."

House: Ravenclaw

A Blog for Cats

2016-06-03T06:39:00.003-07:00

When I was in second grade, Mike Tine said to me at the bus stop, "If a cat comes onto my property, I'm gonna shoot it." I remember him wearing a baseball cap with the Chevy logo in place of a baseball team, chewing on a golden wheat stalk, and proudly rolling a pocketknife back and forth in his palm, though probably only two of those things are true.

Cats have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Despite all the old wive's tales that warned parents that cats would suck the breath out of babies, I made it through child - breath intact - with a bevvy of feline friends by my side.

Although I don't remember him well, Sullivan (Sully) was, I suppose my first cat, although I have earlier photos of Jocelyn sleeping in my crib. I remember being at my aunt Leigh's and my mother speaking to the vet because he had feline leukemia and we had to put him down. I don't know how old he was when he went, but I will credit him for my endless affinity to large orange cats.

Then came the ignorant years, before mom and I heeded Bob Barker's plea to spay and neuter your pets. The slew of cats that we had then were bountiful, graced each year with a litter of kittens that we would give away, much to my heart break. I would have kept every last one of them until all the corners of my house were laden with cats. We had another fluffy orange cat, Toodles, named after the Peter Pan character and Ta-Ta, a name my mother hated. When we moved to Brook Street, Ta-Ta got hit by a car and we got Eliza, named after Eliza Doolittle and eventually the first syllable became too cumbersome and she was just Liza.

Bartholomew, L.C., and Leopold

Liza and Toodles had several litters of kittens, but I kept two. Cats, not litters. Rascal (my most normative and shameful cat name) and my gay little prince cat, L.C. (Little Cow) who saw me through leaving for college. Whenever we took him to the vet, L.C.'s name was written as "Elsie," a name which I didn't know existed, but apparently all the vets thought was normal. L.C. let me hold him on my hip, drag him around with me, and, even though my mother said, "Never ever ever" slept on the bed beside me.

Jojo Bean

Long after Liza and Toodles were gone, Rascal left - he just wandered off - and we got Bartholomew and Leopold to accompany L.C. I was a junior in high school and we had finally answered the spaying and neutering call, but not the "keep your cats indoors" one. L.C. was probably 11 or 12 by this point. Bartholomew was nearing a year and Leopold - Poly-pants - was a wily little eight week old kitten with a white mustache, white paws, and a little heart on his belly.

These were the years of heart ache and devastation for the cats I loved. After I left for St. Mike's L.C. died of old age (and, I like to imagine, of sheer heartache). Polypants went outside one day and never returned. An ex-friend of mine adopted three kittens two of whom were killed by her dog and the other of whom, Girlie, we took in. She also died too young of the perils of outside.

Jonfen

One of my favorite cats of all time came to me from a neighbor. His name was Jojo and he was
another tuxedo kitty. Jojo loved pipe cleaners, stealing my clothes, and me. He was very protective of me, but he was also a pain in the ass, even more so than a normal kitten. So we got him a friend: Jonfen. Jojo barely made it past three before he died and Jonfen, a somewhat dimwitted but extremely good-natured orange tabby, wasn't far behind him.

My Best Girl - Emily Louise

A year before I graduated from Smith College, I adopted Emily, my contraband kitty who I had hoped would solve all my problems. Her shelter name was Bootsie, and I saved her from that horrible eternity. In return, she gave me a really sweet little face to gaze at while I wondered if she actually liked me, which I didn't discover she did until after six months of living with her.

My Sweet Desmon

After I finished college and moved out, I adopted Desmond Huey

Samson giving head butts

Lewis Jones: the Bub. And then Samson came along, his story of abandonment tearing my heart in two. I didn't care if he lived two weeks or two years - that poor cat was coming home with me. He was the best cat ever. His little heart loved so much and his big ol' belly flopped towards the sky was a sign of his eternal trust, just
as his feet waddling after you on your way to the bedroom were a sign of his eternal devotion.

After he died at the ripe old age of 17.5, my husband and I waxed content with our little family: just us and Emily Louise and Desmond Huey Lewis Jones. Until the Cat Who Has No Name entered.

Kiki/Weezy/
Atticus/Hamitlon

His shelter name was Kiki and he was only supposed to be with us for a couple of weeks until he gotover his cold. I hated the name Kiki and started calling him Weezy, because that's what he did most of the time. He, like Samson, seemed so grateful to have people who cared about him and let him snuggle up on the bed or the couch that resigning him to a life of "maybe someone will adopt him" seemed to cruel. So, he came home with us, just a week before we left for Turkey. (Shout out to my mother!) He's been through several names since, and I think we've finally settled on one: Hamilton. (Fully Alexander Hamilton)

Boo Radley

Turkey has gifted me with a colony of cats who know my footsteps and my voice, let me pet them, sit with me when I go outside to read, and always make me smile. Boo, of course, came to live with us after two tragic accidents and now I am so happy that he has a forever home. In our spare room (Boo's room, I call it) now I have a little kitten whose right eye is swollen shut, dripping with whitish mucus, and who generally hates me for taking her inside, trying to clean her eye, and forcing antibiotics down her throat. That I'm also the person who feeds her seems to have evaded her knowledge. I'm hoping that, with a few days of treatment and a safe, clean place to sleep and all the stinky wet food that she can eat, she'll get better and I can return her to her three siblings and mom.

Cats are amazing animals with distinct personalities and quirks that are unbelievably endearing. I remember all my cats so well because they were family - they ARE family - and because their lives have so enriched mine. I am so grateful to have known and loved so many tremendous cats in my life and I hope to know and love many more. Send good thoughts to the sick little kitten in Boo's room and, if you have a cat, consider yourself the luckiest person on earth.

In Defense of "F.R.I.E.N.D.S."

2016-04-15T02:13:00.001-07:00

This article has been making its way around social media, and I, being an avid Friends fan, was very intrigued to read this particular (and rather apocalyptic) interpretation of the show. If you're not interested in reading it, this is an abstract of the article:

Friends, author David Hopkins argues, is a Greek tragedy wherein Ross Gellar, family man, professor of paleontology, and all around decent human being, is doomed to an Oedipal existence in which his closest companions actively seek to thwart his intelligence and eventually create a person as simple as they are. By doing so, the show subliminally encourages us to the do the same.

Where I think Hopkins is hitting the nail on the head: Ross' job is regularly looked down upon. Whenever Ross talks about dinosaurs, his friends pretend to fall asleep, roll their eyes, or groan. The only character who seems to care about Ross' career is his short-lived girlfriend, Mona, who is very interested in his doctoral dissertation. I have often imagined that, if I were friends with them, I would be interested in Ross' career and he and I would talk about literature and science.

Hopkins mentions that the laugh track in the show limits our own ability to determine what's funny. While I agree with this wholeheartedly, Friends was not the first show - nor was it the last - to utilize the canned laughter and choreograph our responses.

Ross certainly does have a tragic hangup on Rachel. The causes are numerous and speculative, as nothing is directly stated, but certainly Rachel represents for him a teenage ambition to be noticed and loved by someone popular; this is perhaps an opposites attract situation; Ross ultimately sees in Rachel something good and worthy to be loved.

Where I think he's missing the point: Ross isn't the only intelligent one, even though he's the only one mentioned to have an advanced degree. Chandler, for example, is incredibly witty and shows
above average grasps of language and language manipulation by virtue of his jokes and sarcastic asides. In fact, Hopkins clearly hasn't made it all the way through the show because he is grossly oversimplifying the characters. He calls Joey "the goofball," Phoebe "the hippy," Monica "obsessive-compulsive," Chandler "sarcastic," and Rachel, "the one who shops." Although none of this is out and out wrong, it is, as I said, too general to be fully accurate.

Joey is the goofball and arguably of the lowest academic intelligence on the show. However, he possesses a more innate interpersonal intelligence and is one of the most loyal characters on the show. Phoebe is sort of a hippy, I would state that she's more a free spirit, equipped with street smarts and strong convictions. Monica is a bit OCD, but she's a very talented chef, a motivated individual, and fiercely competitive. Saying Rachel is "the one who shops" neglects the growth she makes throughout this show. Initially, she is a spoiled, daddy's girl who relies on her parents' money, but - albeit with a lot of luck and help - she climbs the career ladder and becomes a head buyer with a multi-national fashion company. Whether or not we like fashion, it's hard to argue that Rachel didn't grow to do well for herself.

While he doesn't directly assert that Friends is responsible for the reelection of George W. Bush in 2004, Hopkins heavily implies it, as well as implying that the majority of stupid things happening in America now (from social media politics to Donald Trump) are the direct result of Friends having been on the air.

TV shows, by virtue of being TV shows, tend to lack intellectualism. We, the audience, are not forced to think, imagine images, or connect any dots for ourselves. Suggesting that Friends is the reason Kanye West thinks he can run for president when many other shows perpetuate similar stereotypes against intellectual people is unfair, unfounded, and, in my personal opinion, unjust to this show that, at its heart, valued loyalty about all else.

Help Me Out Here: Am I Missing Something?

2016-04-15T00:51:00.000-07:00

I came across the meme on the left on a university friend of mine's Facebook newsfeed and I'm having a really hard time comprehending this one. As I understand (and, please, please, please, tell me if I'm interpreting this wrong), I should support the Muslim county clerk's decision to deny a customer a marriage license on the basis that the customer is not wearing a hijab and that, in not supporting her - which, in this case, I don't - means that I'm supporting Christian privilege.

Firstly, is it not the same religious right of the woman customer to choose whether or not she wears a hijab? Secondly, is it not the actual job of the Muslim clerk to provide a service (be it supplying marriage licenses or something else) to the town she serves?

I do support the autonomy of the clerk to actively find someone else to help the customer. But if no one else can be found, the clerk's refusal, while religiously understandable, seems unethical given her job and the freedoms that are supported by the American Constitution, under which she serves, as a working person in America.

Please, please, please let me know where I'm going wrong. I feel like there's something simple that I'm missing, but I can't help feeling that this meme (as many obviously are being that they're, you know, memes) is grossly oversimplifying this issue and eagerly pointing the privilege finger. And I'll be honest, I point the privilege finger a lot because it's worthwhile and it is a privilege to be taught about privilege (or have your privilege checked) as opposed to experiencing a lack of it. So, I beg of you, tell me where I'm going astray in my logic.

A Ranty Type Blog

2016-04-05T07:35:00.000-07:00

So, I've been doing yoga everyday for about the last two months and today YouTube suggested I watch a video from a vlogger called BananaBlondie108. Mostly out of boredom, I clicked on it and trolled around her page a while. It didn't take long for me to glean her perspective: military veganism, high and mighty yoga, anti-everything that contrasts with that. I consider myself a very open person and refuse to believe that the choices I make with my life supersede and are more righteous than another person's. Similarly, I believe that the choices other people make are valid, but I expect that they garner the same respect I give to them. If you choose to be a vegan, that's great for you. If you choose to binge drink every Thursday, fine. If you collect firearms, please be responsible. It doesn't mean that I am under any obligation to do any of these things.

BananaBlondie108's videos - at least the ones I watched (and I didn't watch any in full because she annoyed me profoundly) - serve to enforce her cause. And this is her right as a person: she is permitted to have a belief (or many beliefs) that she validates. Just as I am, and just as you are. Where I believe she misses the mark by an astonishingly wide margin is in her blatant attack on anyone who does not follow her chosen lifestyle and in her propagation of the idea that only certain bodies can be healthy.

On her channel she disses Oprah, Weight Watchers, meat eaters, dairy eaters, people who don't do yoga, and in one tremendously offensive video, she uses her children to help her insult her overweight pediatrician. You can watch the video here, but I don't recommend it. In this video, made in the car probably on the way home from the pediatrician's office, both mom and children are on a rant about how they could possibly follow the advice of their overweight pediatrician. Everyone in the car agrees that the advice is sound, scientific, and based in medicine, but everyone in the car also agrees that the doctor doesn't follow the advice.

And just how do they know that? I hear you ask, as I did. Well, because isn't thin. In fact, in BB108's words, "Her (the doctor's) message would be much better received if she were an example of the advice that she's giving."

Now, of course, I wonder, did BB108 ask the doctor if she followed her own advice? Did BB108 ask the doctor what she normally eats in a day (not that it's any of her business)? No. She went out on a limb that reaches so far past the realms of science that it hits parallel universes in the head and just assumed - and continues to assume as referenced in a video recorded the next day - that the doctor couldn't be eating and living healthily because her body failed to look a certain way.

She did issue an apology video because she was "mortified" and because her "goal is never to offend people." Now, congratulations or whatever on apologizing, but I feel like she's gotten it wrong for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I continue to hear her say that she isn't "politically correct" and "abrasive," hinting that the only reason she's apologizing is because she called the doctor fat. Secondly, in her apology she continues to propagate the idea that, because the doctor carried visceral weight (weight around the midsection), she couldn't possibly be following the advice she gives, which BB108 classifies as the "truth of the matter."

One of the biggest issues I hold with both her initial video and her "apology" is the fact that she can't own up to the fact that her children hold the views they do because she has taught them as such. Several times in both video she alludes to the fact that even her children noticed as some sort of justification and validation of her assumption about this doctor's health. News flash: Your children learn what you teach them. So, for instance, when she refers to the doctor's "gunt" with her children in the car, you can bet that that's a word that's now in their vocabularies for the next fat child they encounter.

As a fat person, I know firsthand how difficult it can be to have doctors believe what you tell them. I also know how difficult it is to have people believe what you tell them about health. Because, obviously, fashion and the conflation of health and beauty are more valid than science and personal experience. Most people see me and assume they know about my health without knowing anything about me. I have to work harder to be validated and often am not. Once, I went to the doctor and I told him my workout schedule, which, at the time was 5-6 days a week, weightlifting, cardio (running and Zumba), and pilates. When I left the room, I looked at the chart and he wrote "3 days a week, low to moderate exercise."

I feel like I'm circumventing the point and maybe there isn't a real point aside from the fact that I'm annoyed by this video and the continuation of bad science in health related fields. If you're frustrated, too, misery loves company, so leave me some comments.

23 Things Animals Can Teach Us About Our Lives - Advice in Pictures

2016-03-16T03:24:00.003-07:00

So, I love Pinterest, and if we're not friends on there you should find me so I can steal your cute/innovative/handy-dandy ideas, too. For me, it's an excellent place to store recipes (that I'll never remember I pinned there), scrapbooking templates, projects (that I'll never remember I pinned there), and umpteen photos of cute animals. Let's be honest, mostly cats. This week has, thus far, been mostly grey and unfortunately cold here in Bursa, so I think some cute animals photos are in store for today.

1. This eager looking kitty in a kitty hide away.

Why is he peeking out? Because life is so much better when it's shared. But from a place you can easily escape back into your hole. I mean home.

2. This monotone cat family.

This family is proving to us beyond all probable doubt that everything is black and white with shades of grey.

3. This like mother/like daughter duo.

Proof that even in kitty-dom the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

4. This integrated family.

Because love knows no color.

5. This determined cat and this equally determined chair.

Because challenges are all about perspective.

6. This zenned out kitty.

Because sometimes you wake up in the morning, look at your to do list, think about all the responsible things you will have to accomplish before bed, and you just go back to sleep.

7. This cat who has mastered his chakras.

Whenever you feel yourself collapsing in gate pose (which is obviously a metaphor for life), just internalize this little kitten and imagine your head, heart, and hands reaching forward.

8. This cup of joy.

Because some things are more necessary than your morning boost of caffeine.

9. This panda whose little heart overfloweth.

Because, in your heart if not in your mind, you know there is someone who you love soooo much that you would squeeze to their arm and look at them with such unbridled love, even if there was a camera pointed at your face.

10. These Origins of Love

Because someone will always be there to expand your heart.

11. This epic fail.

Because you won't be good at everything.

12. This blatant show of materialism.

Because some things ARE really important.

13. This tactile monkey and the eager-beaver recipient.

Because when you see a cat you have to touch it. Or when a monkey wants to touch you, you have to let it.

14. This star-gazer.

Because sometimes it's okay to slow down and revel in the wonder.

15. This sunny shower.

Because you, too, can sing and dance in the rain.

16. This cat who shows his love. Literally.

We all could learn a little something from this kitty. This cat has taken the sometimes negatively connoted expression, "Wear your heart on your sleeve" and has turned it around to "wear your heart on your nose," which he does in order to remind us everyday how much he loves and appreciates us.

17. This jovial fellow.

Because why not make every movement a dance?

18. The Gun Show

Because you are so strong. Just as you are today.

19. These juxtapositions.

Because you've got two choices: You can hang on for dear life or you can own your wobbly rung and literally make it your bed.

20. This sense of wonder.

Because flowers really ARE amazing.

21. This Phoebe Runner

If you're a FRIENDS fan, you've already gotten it and you can move it. If you're not, let me explain. Phoebe takes up running with Rachel, who prescribes to the school of conservative, form-following, breath-controlled jogging. Phoebe likes to run like she did when she was a child. This elephant is Phoebing. And so should we!

22. This cat who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it.

Because when you need a hug, you should ask for one.

23. This wise old prophet.

Because inside all of us is a little Dumbledore.

Star-Spangled Banter

2016-03-04T06:37:00.000-08:00

America: What the actual fuck is happening over there?

Most of my news comes first from Facebook, which I then channel through various sources - some more legit than others - and all I can say is: really? REALLY?

Other than keeping the meme writers heavily employed, I'm not seeing a whole hell of a lot of politics happening, particularly on the Republican side. I recently just watched a short video in which Donald Drumpf supporters were read a bunch of Hitler quotes, told that Drumpf said them, and asked if they supported those policies. (By the by, I'm using Drumpf's real last name according to John Oliver - highly recommend this video). When they - flabbergasted - were told that those words were quotes from Drumpf but from Hitler, one supporter said, and I quote, "If Donald Trump said (these quotes) I'd support 'em."

I think this provides an excellent rule of thumb: Does it sound like something Hitler would say? Let's see how we do with quotes from our current Republican candidates.

"Swastikas are a symbol of hate for some people, too. And yet they still exist in museums." - Ted Cruz

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Yes. But, shhhhh! The anti-logician is speaking.

“You know, it really doesn’t matter what the media write as long as you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.” - Donald Drumpf

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Uh, no, probably not. Follow up question: Does this sound like something you want your president to say?

"Let's ask Hillary Clinton. She believes in the systematic murder of children in the womb." - Chris Christie

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Well, okay, this one's a bit of a stretch, but it's the phrasing that clinches the Hitlerevity for me. Instead of saying, "Hillary Clinton supports abortion," Christie chose to refer to abortion as "the systematic murder of children," which sounds a lot like Hillary Clinton is armed and loaded with a bunch of pregnant women lined up against a wall.

“When was the last time anybody saw us beating, let's say, China in a trade deal? They kill us. I beat China all the time. All the time.” - Donald Drumpf

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Yes actually, in more modern but equally delusional way.

"If I'm the President of the United States and you're thinking about joining al-Qaeda or ISL, I'm not gonna call a judge. I'm gonna call a drone and we will kill you." - Lindsey Graham

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Yes, yes, 1000 times yes!

"I will build a great wall — and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me —and I’ll build them very inexpensively. I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words.” - Donald Drumpf

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Yes, just replace "Mexico" with the Jews. Or Gypsies. Or Poles. Or any other list of people whom Hitler found offensive.

"People have a right to be Democrat. People have a right to be wrong. I know they're the same thing." - Marco Rubio

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Kind of. Being a Democrat = being wrong. I mean, he's not threatening our lives...yet.

"When Mexico sends its people, they're not sending the best. They're not sending you, they're sending people that have lots of problems and they're bringing those problems with us. They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists. ... And some, I assume, are good people." - Donald Drumpf

Does this sound like something Hitler would say? Yes, again just replace "Mexico" with any one of the myriad groups Hitler hated. But it's nice that Drumpf can see the good in, you know, some of them.

I could go on and on, but suffice to say, you can't make this stuff up. A friend of mine on Facebook posted a video of one of the Republican debates and, more than anything, I was annoyed at the lack of sustenance. The video, which was about 4 minutes long, was mostly just other candidates trying to say something while Donald Trump interrupted. I wanted to jump through the screen, use my teacher voice, and be like, "We'd all be happy to listen to you when it's your turn to speak. But right now Marco Rubio is trying to make his point." Or slap him across the face. He was really annoying me! I can feel my blood boiling now. In order to not leave this post feeling really pissed off, I shall leave you with this meme. (As I said before, the meme writers are having a veritable feast with all this material.)

90s Expressions We Should Most Definitely Bring Back

2016-02-26T06:09:00.000-08:00

Word.

Definition: An expression of affirmation.

Used in context:
Person A: What up, bro?
Person B: Not much, just doin' my homework.
Person A: Word.

Talk to the hand.

Definition: A shortened version of "Talk to the hand 'cause the face ain't listening." A way to get someone to STFU. More advanced users simply utilize the corresponding gesture.

Used in context:

All that and a bag of chips.

Definition: The best and then some

Used in context: Just because Alicia got that nose job she thinks she's all that and a bag of chips.

Bounce.

Definition: Leave. There is no physical bouncing involved.

Used in context: Yeah, bro, this party's whack. Imma bounce.

Dope.

Definition: Another way to say awesome.

Used in context: That dress is dope! Where'd you snag it?

Bunk.

Definition: Bat-shit crazy.

Used in context:

What's crackalackin'?

Definition: What's happening? What's up?

Used incorrectly:

That's my name, don't wear it out.

Definition: This doesn't actually mean anything. It's just a way to be annoying.

Used in context:

Person A: Peter?

Person B: That's my name, don't wear it out.

Score.

Definition: Awesome, amazing, fantastic, cool. Normally used as a one-word reply.

Used in context:
Person A: Check it out! I scored Filter tickets for this Saturday!
Person B: Score!

I know you are, but what am I?

Definition: This has no real meaning. It's just a way to annoy the crap out of somebody and get out of any conversations. Made popular by PeeWee Herman.

Used in context:

Person A: Did you watch Friends last night? Joey is such a dork.

Person B: I know you are, but what am I?

Person A: What the hell are talking about?

Person B: I know you are, but what am I?

Person A: I didn't say you were anything.

Person B: I know you are, but what am I?

9 Ways the 90s Blew Our Minds

2016-02-26T01:51:00.000-08:00

1. MAGIC EYES

Straining your eyes to see the image, squinting, moving back and forth, desperately searching, and then, finally. Mission accomplished.

2. NIRVANA

Admittedly, you don't know what they're saying half the time, but they totally get you. And you totally get them. Because the world is messed up, man, and music is just what helps you deal.

3. BILL NYE THE SCIENCE GUY

In all honesty, I don't remember a single thing he taught me, but I'll be damned if this show wasn't both fun AND educational.

4. MADLIBS

I mean, let's be honest, this is actually the only reason you know the parts of speech.

5. WARHEADS

I used to eat these like a champ, clutching them firmly between the roof of my mouth and my tongue and never saying never, even with the sour coating started to burn through my tongue. Which it did. Frequently. And left little blisters.

6. OREGON TRAIL

Who can compare the trials of a modern life to the horrors your caravan faced on the Trail? When you had to barter your oxen for bread or when your cart broke down or worse, when your whole family died of dysentery.

7. WALKMANS

I catch a lot of flack for this, but I think the 90s qualifies as the best decade for modern music. Think about it; Nirvana, Green Day, Alanis Morisette, Spice Girls, Soundgarden, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weezer, No Doubt, Bush, Blink 182 (before they were emo), The Offspring... need I continue? And, once you'd sat around listening to Casey Kasem and pressing record when all those awesome songs came up, you could listen to listen to your homemade mix tape on the go.

8. WHERE'S WALDO?

I mean, seriously, where the actual fuck is he? If you were a completist like me, these books drove you absolutely bat shit crazy because you knew it wasn't just like he could be anywhere - he was refined the page you were turned to - but Christ almighty, he could be ANYWHERE!

9. MILKY PENS

Sure, they dried up fast and they smeared if you weren't patient enough (which I often wasn't), but they just looked so darn beautiful, especially when you drew on black paper.

90s Toys You Spent Way Too Much Money On

2016-02-25T03:58:00.000-08:00

Why You Spent Money On It: They were definitely going to appreciate in value someday, especially those collector bears. They were certainly not just going to sit in the back of your closet.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you were the God of the sea monkeys. And even though they weren't snuggly or even cute, you held their tiny little lives in your hands. But you kept accidentally knocking the tank over.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you lost all the damn pieces. Seriously, Polly Pocket was unnecessarily small. BUT AWESOME. I actually only had a couple of these, but a friend of mine had an amazing collection that I was privileged enough to play with.

Why You Spent Money On It: To record your prolific thoughts just as soon as they popped into your head. Or to record your hit single. Just to record things.

Why You Spent Money On It: I never spent money on it, actually, because I, tragically, didn't have one. Which I think is why, as an adult, I still find so much joy in this bossy little toy.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you were an aspiring artist with a penchant for right angles and living life on the edge. Because, let's face it, some kid knocks into you in the hallway and your masterpiece is gone for good.

Why You Spent Money On It: To collect all the slammers and the bottle caps and also as an anger management tool. This game was significantly bad ass.

Why You Spent Money On It: Perhaps you, like me, bought this at a tag sale and only had one game for it that you could never quite figure out. Or perhaps you actually used your Game Boy. But likely you bought it because it was the height of technology and you, obviously, were very, very cool.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because it counted how many rotations you did up to 999. And that's waaaaaaaaaay too hard to do for yourself when you're hopping around.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you had failed the Sea Monkeys (once again), but you would certainly not fail the Tamagotchi. You would feed it and play with it and take care of it, even if that meant you had to put it in your desk during class so that you could furtively give your little chick its morning meal. JUST DON'T DIE, PIXELATED PET!

Why You Spent Money On It: Because it is certain. And you could change any answer you didn't agree with. Even though it was magic.

Why You Spent Money On It: I don't know about you, but I spent a significant amount of time waging water wars as a child. Super Soaker was not quite as super a soaker as the hose, but it was so much better than those tiny water pistols.

Why You Spent Money On It: Mostly you just wanted to know what in the fuck it was. It made your hands smell weird, could create farting noises, and came in unnatural colors. You couldn't really make anything out of and it slowly both dried out and collected particles of dirt and dust. But the enigma was too much to bear! Thanks, Nickelodeon!

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you could FINALLY draw on your stuff without lasting consequences. I used to write secret messages on the underpants.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you are a girl and you are supposed to LOVE shopping. Plus, it had credit cards and it talked! Let's be honest, shopping in this game was a perilous, strategic adventure, not unlike Risk.

Why You Spent Money On It: Because you were suddenly an amazing athlete. You could catch anything in all the coolest ways. Behind the back? Hell yes. Above the head? Oh, yeah. Under the knee? Ah, show us a challenge!

Why You Spent Money On It: These little buggers are soothing. You can bounce 'em, rub 'em on your face, dangle 'em by a little rubbery string, and they smelled kinda cool.

90s Shows I Have Known and Loved

2016-02-24T04:16:00.003-08:00

In case you were unawares, Netflix has produced a Full House reunion show (entitled Fuller House) that will be released on 26 February. Although my hopes aren't high, I'm very excited for this show and am going to have to restrict myself from binge watching. In honor of Netflix's shout out to the 90s, I'm preparing some nostalgic blogs from this same time. Today is all about 90s TV.

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A Nickelodeon sitcom based off books of the same title (I believe - and I think I read them), Alex Mack could do pretty awesome things like turn herself into an amorphous blob. More or less the girl version of Spider Man, Alex Mack chose to keep her powers a secret (hence the "secret world") and I'm not sure whether or not she uses them for anything good or not, but nevertheless she has them. And I wanted them. I don't remember much about the show excepting that I, too, wanted the ability to turn myself into a green blob in order to escape dangerous situations.

Oh, Erik Von Detten. You are so yummy. Odd Man Out lasted only one season, which probably means it was actually really good, and, despite not remembering anything specific about this show aside from the exquisite yumminess of EVD, I do recall enjoying this short-lived sitcom. Maybe I can find back episodes of it somewhere on the vast expanses of the interwebs.

She explains it all. Everything. But this show is far from educational unless you are a teenage (or a budding teenage) girl. Clarissa tells us about her training bras, the awkwardness of dating, how to cover up a pimple, and how to look super fly, 90s style. Replaced by Alex Mack, I do believe Clarissa was Melissa Joan Hart's prime time debut.

When this boy meets world, boy meets world....I could go on. I love this show and still watch back episodes of it, especially as one of my life's goals is to turn into George Feeney. There's something inviting about the close-knitness of friendships and family in this show that both warms your heart and simultaneously makes you want to barf a little bit. But in an awesome way.

When I was younger, I appreciated the humor of this sketch comedy show and I liked that there was a fat woman, Lori, who butchered nursery rhymes. Three blind mice, three blind mice, see how they run into things. As an adult, I'm looking at this cast and doing a hindsight shout-out to Nickelodeon for the diversity in this cast. Yes, its predominantly white cast could be replaced by some Hispanic or Asian-American actors, but look at the ages, sizes, and races it does have.

I was never a big fan of cartoons, which is why 90s purists are going to be saddened at the lack of Hey Arnold and Doug on this blog. (Spoiler alert!) But I did love Animaniacs. 'Cause they're zany to the max. I'm not even sure what the hell kind of creatures they are, but they're awfully amusing. Plus, they had Pinky and the Brain, which just can't be beat.

How you doin'? OH, MY GOD. Chand-luh? Chand-luh BING? Possibly at the top of my list for best sitcom ever made, and I would not bamboozle you. I have seen each season at least twice, because this show is my lobster. First name "Crap," last name "Bag." It's BoGOta, but close enough. And we must clap during the theme song.

Show of my first crush, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, or, as we all lovingly called him, JTT. When I watch this show as an adult, I get really annoyed by Tim's antics and assumptions that his wife will just roll with and fix everything, but I really like the sons in the chemistry in this show as well as the humor. This show, even without a laugh track, is genuinely funny.

Alright, alright, I know, this show is hokey and uber-problematic, but I used to watch it every morning before school. I know everybody was in a tizzy as to who was cuter - suave, boy-next-door Zack Morris, or muscley, jock AC Slater - but this show definitely propelled my love of nerdy boys.

Cheesy? Yes. Whiter than wonderbread? You betcha. Entirely unbelievable that Joey has a stand up routine that features entirely clean, family-friendly humor? You know it. But Full House holds a special place in my heart. Perhaps its Danny's compulsive cleanliness or DJ's eternal search to find herself, perhaps we'll just never know what love is.

From Clarissa Explains It All to Sabrina, Melissa Joan Hart rocked the 90s. Sabrina was, unarguably, ah-MA-zing what with Salem, the mechanical talking cat, Salem the town, and some pretty baller special effects. My favorite thing about this show, though, were the aunts, Hilda and Zelda, respectively with their professional violining and sciencing. LOVE this show.

Fran Drescher's voice. Need I say more?

I'm trying to remember what this show was even about, but Fran Drescher's voice keeps drowning it out.

I'm humming the theme song as I type. Oh, man, this fucking show. I didn't watch it in the 90s, I actually discovered my undying love for it later in life, which I suppose doesn't make it nostalgic, but perhaps YOU watched it in the 90s. I remember how much flack Roseanne caught for her brassy, loud mouth and now I can't help thinking that people were probably just pretty pissed that a big old fat lady was creating, producing, and starring in her own prime time TV show.

It's a Good Step

2016-02-16T04:06:00.000-08:00

So, guys, this happened. Ashley Graham has become the first plus-size model to be featured on the cover of Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. To be perfectly clear, there are three covers out this February and only one features a plus-size model, but this is still a big deal for a number of reasons.

1) Body diversity. Yay! Let's keep it going! I hope next SI does a cover story about fat athletes.

2) Mainstream. SI is a popular, reputable magazine. There is no danger of it being called "feminist" (said with a sneer) or other dirty words that make otherwise veritable people and publications lose credibility whether or not it's actually deserved.

According to many sources, Graham has dedicated this cover to "all of the women out there who never felt that they were beautiful enough, who never felt like they were skinny enough, and who never felt like they were going to be able to represented in a society like this. Because now we're being represented." Graham is correct. SI is a big step in representation, which is not to say that there are not other reputable, respected, and famous plus-size models, Whitney Thompson (of ANTM fame), Tess Holiday, Denise Bidot, and Emme to name a few.

While I'm writing this post with the intent to say well done to Ashley Graham and revel in an more diversified world, I'm also writing with two other intentions.

Firstly, it's only one day later and I'm already seeing really problematic things being posted like, "Finally a real woman on the cover" or "So much better than the bones that SI normally has." BLURGBLUDALGJADLJ PATRIARCHY STOP HATING.

I've calmed down.

In other words, one of the reasons that western society is still so invested in marketing beauty is because women are taught view beauty as a competition. We become consumed with making ourselves "better" than other women by buying x,y, and z products and engaging in a,b, and c behaviors that we lose sight of things that actually matter. Like equal pay. And all the discrimination. Ashley Graham is not better or worse than any other SI swimsuit issue cover model that has come before her. She is just different.

While it's very tempting to use terms like "real woman" and throw back what has been thrown at fatter women for a long time, that's fire with fire and it's not necessary, productive, or helping. At all.

Also, a "real woman" is someone who is biologically born as a woman and still identifies as such or identifies now as a woman. It has nothing to do with someone's size.

Secondly, although this is a great step, I still can't help being dubious. Ashley Graham is "plus size" relative to an industry standard but is hardly representative of a - forgive the choice of words here - wider audience. From what I've read, her cover shot is virtually untouched, and I see trim arms, legs with little to no cellulite, and a belly that, though larger than most models', would barely be considered paunchy by most women.

What I hope is that size diversity will continue to expand its perceptions of size and that, in the near
future, we'll have a Tess Holliday on the cover. Or better yet, SI will start to feature more female athletes, fat or otherwise.

So, take this small victory in stride. Well done, Ashley Graham but we've still got a long way to go.

In the Valley Below

2016-02-08T03:57:00.000-08:00

After WWII, the responsibility of Germany's new babysitters, the British, the French, the Americans, and the Soviets, was to demilitarize the country that had begun two world wars by violating land treaties. As the saying goes, do it once, shame on you. Do it twice, shame on me. Wanting to avoid a third world war, these four powers set to work getting rid of Germany's military might. In other words, they blew shit up. More or less everything went: the military headquarters, the weaponry, and the bunkers.

Bunkers were fortifications above ground and below ground, constructed with thick concrete made to be indestructible. Some proved their worth, and the powers in Germany held friendly competitions about who could blow up as many bunkers as efficiently as possible.

In 2016, only 2.5 bunkers remain, one completely inaccessible.

The half bunker existed between the French and Russian sectors and, while the French blew their side up, the Soviets never did. One bunker that proved too strong for bombs was Hitler's bunker, where he spent the last few weeks of the war, killed himself along with his new wife and his beloved dog, and plotted military strategy with a largely imaginary army. For myriad reasons including, but not limited to Germany's desire to separate themselves from this notorious once-leader, not wanting to encourage any sort of hero worship of the man who Eddie Izzard rightfully labeled "a mass-murdering fuckhead," and, of course, the order to demilitarize, Hitler's bunker was buried in its own rubble (after many attempts to destroy it with TNT) and finally paved over. Today it is a car park.

The one bunker that remains and that is both usable and tourable is directly next to and was once part of Gesundbrunner Station. It, of course, wasn't destroyed because of its proximity to public transport.

Today, tours enter the bunker guided by a straight-faced German woman whose dry humor works well with her straight-lipped, no-nonsense attitude. Everything in this underworld is grey, except the rusting artifacts. The walls still bear the paint indicating which direction the toilets are, how many people can fit in a bunker, as well as messages about the war. One wall still highlights the phosphorescent paint used for the inevitability of a blackout. Though faded now, at one point it was rumored to have been so bright you could read by it. We were warned not to lick the walls.

The bunker on its own is pretty amazing, but the collection of things assembled from the war are what make the bunker downright impressive. Included in the collection are helmets with bullet holes, propaganda, old weaponry, condoms (dried and certainly ineffective), suitcases, shoes, and knickknacks either salvaged from Berlin's rubble or left in the bunkers.

After the war, Berlin was in ruins. Anything salvageable was used for, well, anything. Helmets were turned into cooking pots, a bomb was turned into an oven, bricks were cleaned and repurposed in order to rebuild; and the vast majority of this work was done by women. There was nothing to eat and stories remain of people eating newspaper and tapestries. Rubble turned into playgrounds for youth that had survived the siege of Berlin, but often turned disastrous when unexploded artillery was disturbed by young feet. According to our guide, more Berliners died after the war than during it.

The bunker leaves visitors with a strange sense of both calm and eeriness, much as one could imagine the occasional inhabitants felt as the crowded into the small spaces, lured by the promise of safety from the world on fire above them.

Ich Bin Eine Berliner

2016-02-05T12:19:00.001-08:00

If Prague is the Louvre, Berlin is the haphazard pages of a child's coloring book.

Mostly decimated after WWII and then immediately split into opposing sectors, each instructed to demilitarize Germany (read: blow the living crap out of anything the Nazis could potentially use against any of the Allies or the Soviets), Berlin has barely had a chance to live. It is the youngest 800 year old city that I can think of because, as a modern state, it's really only 27. I'M older than modern Berlin.

What it lacks in eye-catching architecture, it makes up for in charm. Free museums, impressive graffiti, affordable restaurants boasting all kinds of international cuisine, bakeries with freshly made goods, and history - albeit oppressive history - around every corner. Most of the buildings, even the ones in former West Berlin, are pretty dreary looking, and reminiscent of times where grey, concrete slabs were the height of fashion and then off efficiency. But artists - both commissioned and not - have lifted their brushes (or rather, their spray cans) and have added some color to an otherwise very drab city.

Even though the buildings lack panache and I'm starting to believe that there is one loud ambulance for every fifth person in this city, Berlin has a certain je ne sais quoi, and I really like it.

One Day in Bratislava

2016-02-01T02:58:00.001-08:00

Do not be fooled: Bratislava can be conquered (in the tourist sense of the word) in one day. Not Even two hours outside of Vienna and Bratislava is a world away from Vienna's ritzy, Baroque neighborhoods and is instead a pseudo-Bohemian daydream.

Greyish, yellowish buildings with red-orange roofs welcome you to Bratislava. The first stop is a short hike up some hills and Uneven stairs to Bratislava Castle, the city's primary castle, once owned by the Hapsburg and done up in Maria Theresa's typical style. Although we aid for a ticket in, I would suggest skipping That the entry price and simply wandering around the palace's façade is quite good enough. The interior is Mostly reconstruction from the 1950s Following a devastating fire and, as Opposed to showcasing the rooms and Remains of the castle, much of the castle is now a museum featuring art work, Bratislavian history, and war stories. One cool section Allows visitors to ascend into one of the castle's towers And Then descend to a basement holding St. Stephan's crown, but the whole ordeal takes about 15 minutes.

After the castle, enjoy the views of Bratislava; the unique roofs covered in winter's fog, before making your way to the old town, Which sits at the foot of Bratislava Castle. The Old Town is a maze of cobblestone streets, intimates clozes, and architecture you strain your neck to look at. The main areas of interest, referring to: Within are all about one square mile.

Wind your way in and out of the main square, taking in the kitschy souvenir shops, the beautiful statues, intricate carvings, and the occasional open church, Which lets you walk in, breathe in the Godliness seeping through the stained glass, and leave again free of charge.

Lunch is best done just outside the town center to save yourself a few euros. Be prepared for huge Portions and Cheap beer.

After lunch, continue your exploration of the town, this time heading outside of the town square closer to the river. Walk along the river and see the Opera House, the libraries, and the adorable little houses look like That They should be lining a canal in Amsterdam. If you care to (and if it's not closed), Devin Castle, just outside the main part of the city is Another popular stop.

As you make your way back into the main square, pass under St. Michael's gate, making sure to look up, down, and all around you. Although it's small, Bratislava is a feast for the eyes.

In the late afternoon, stop at a cafe - I suggest La Cocina - to have a coffee or an Aperol Spritz and get your energy back up with a delicious treat, like homemade cupcakes or an absolutely indescribable bar with a Buttery graham cracker crust, thick caramel, walnuts and salty.

As evening descends on Bratislava, enjoy the hues and the shadows cast by the Old Town and from the castle. Hop on your bus. You'll be back in Vienna soon.

Prague's Astronomical Clock

2016-01-31T11:24:00.000-08:00

To the modern eye this may not be so thrilling, but I need you now to take a step back about, oh, 600 years or so and appreciate this industrial marvel.

The year is 1410. Sigismund I, King of Hungary and the Romans sits on the throne. The astronomical clock is commissioned to showcase Prague's prowess and superiority.

Mikulas of Kadan, clockmaker, and mathematician Jan Sindel were the people responsible for the medieval planetarium on view today. However, their work would not be fully functional were it not for master crafstman, Hanus Carolinum, who was responsible for repairs and upkeep of the clock, working some 80 years after the original construction, and was the only man living then who knew the intricacies and the mechanical workings of the piece.

Rather than risk his expertise being spread all over Europe, legend has it that Prague's old town councilors blinded Hanus with a hot poker and cut out his tongue so that he would not be able to recreate or impart knowledge about the clock for or to any one else.

Understandably irked by this show of gratitude for upkeeping what is arguably the greatest mechanical mechanism of its day, Hanus asked his buddy to take him to the clock where he tinkered with some pieces and effectively shut down the clock for 200 years.

Obviously someone was eventually able to get the clock working again, and every hour on the hour the clock does its thing for the delight (or sometimes 21st century disappointment) of tourists.

What exactly are you looking at?

Well, originally the clock was the sphere and clock dial showing the major astronomical movements of the time. Of course, as everybody knew, everything revolved around the earth, which is why the clock has both the sun and the moon revolving around the earth as well as the ecliptic revolutions, each part an independent mechanism.

In the clockwork there are three co-axial wheels. The first shows the position of the zodiac and rotates roughly every 24 hours. The second indicates the sun and rotates also once everyday, depending on the length of the sun in the sky for that particular time of year. The third rotates with the rotation of the moon and the ball, half-silvered and half black, displays lunar phases and rotates every month.

Below the clock is a combination 365-day Christian calendar and Czech zodiac complete with 365 days of Saints, in case you were short on holidays.

In the early-mid 17th century the wooden statues were added to reflect typical 17th century fears. From left to right we have Vanity, Greed, Death, and Infidel Turk (a.k.a. "The Piper). Because, you know, in 1657, if thinking yourself too pretty, coveting money, and the Grim Reaper didn't get you, you could be pretty certain the Turks would.

The figures of the Apostles were added at the tail end of the 18th century. In order of appearance, the saints come as follows. From the left window: St. Paul, St. Thomas, St. Juda Thaddeus (patron saint of hope and impossible causes), St. Simon (the patron saint of lumberjacks), St. Bartholomew (patron saint against nervous diseases and twitching), and St. Barnabas (patron saint against hailstorms). From the right window: St. Peter, St. Matthew (patron saint of tax collectors and accountants), St. John (patron saint of booksellers), St. Andrew (patron saint of fisherman), St. Phillip (patron saint of hatters), and St. Jacob (patron saint of teachers).

About 60 years after that came the golden crowing - or ceremoniously tooting - rooster at the top of the clock.

All in all, the whole ordeal take about a minute and I find it really spectacular, kind of in the way one appreciates Hitchcock's terror in an era of Tarantino.

Nowadays, there are legends associated with the clock that, when it stops working - if it stops working - bad times will befall Prague. So, let's just hope that time keeps ticking. Literally.

Cultural Identity

2016-01-29T11:06:00.000-08:00

Whether they embody it or not, Americans tend to be very keen on national . If you're a "red-blooded American," this generally entails flag-waving, gun-waving, and a surge of pride when someone utters the word "freedom," which makes you consider yourself the best kind of patriot. If you're from MA, "red-blooded Americans" probably make you cringe, so you wave your words and your democracy, which makes you consider yourself the best kind of patriot. If you're lucky enough to identify as an American abroad, you begin to understand how America is perceived in the world, which makes you practical.

Good or bad - an admittedly, I claim to be Canadian whenever possible - Americans have a strong sense of identity, as do the Chinese and Turks, both of whom are proud of the revolutionary leaders who brought the countries out of empires and into republics.

Imagine having to change the nationality on your passport every few years. Imagine a world whose borders have been more or less arbitrarily carved with your your government's (never mind your) input. And imagine this world is smack dab in the middle of a politically important area. Welcome to the Czech Republic.

The Czech State was officially formed in the 9th century in the Great Moravian Empire as the Duchy of Bohemia. After the Moravians fell in 907, the Duchy of Bohemia was integrated into the Holy Roman Empire, becoming officially the Kingdom of Bohemia. When Charles IV (initially King Wenceslaus of Good Kin Wenceslaus fame) inherited the throne in 1347, Prague became the capital of the Holy Roman Empire. Some 500 years later in 1806, the Holy Roman Empire dissolved and the Hapsburg, claimed descendants of Holy Roman Emperors, installed the Austro-Hungarian Empire, under whose wing the Czech Republic fell. Because of their access to silver and industrialism, the Czech lands became a powerhouse for the monarchy.

And then came the shots heard round the world. No, no, American readers, not that shot; arguably more important shots as Bosnian-born Gavrilo Princip fatally shot Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Hapsburg throne, and his wife, Sophie, the commencement of WWI, and with the death of two leaders signed the death warrants of 16 million others.

As part of the Austro-Huungarian Empire, the Czech Republic found itself allied with the Germans and on the wrong side of the war. At the end of the conflict, the Austro-Hungarian Empire was no more, Germany was meant to give back its lands (apart from Germany itself), and the Czech Republic found itself as Czechoslovakia, encouraged by the US to make one bigger nation, rather than two smaller ones.

Of course, on the heels of WWI was the Goliath of wars, WWII. After WWI, Germany was more or less a toddler in timeout. England and France had taken away German territories and fighter planes, put severe restrictions on the size and power of the German military, and had sent them to bed without supper.

Out of the turmoil of WWI rose Adolf Hitler, whose economic plans put Germans back to work and - at least slightly - regulated the out of control Deutschmark. But, as we know, Hitler was greedy for land. But he was greedy for very specific land. Hitler desired to return Germany to being the Holy Roman Empire, himself Herr Emperor.

Sadly for Hitler, part of the conditions of Germany's timeout was that they were not to invade other

countries. One might imagine a larger-than-life Churchill, pipe protruding from his lips, pointing his finger at a small, bashful Hitler, scolding, ""And no invading for you, young man."

But Hitler was savvy and a man obsessed, so he set his sights on the Sudetenland, the western part of today's Czech Republic, with borders on Austria and Germany. Inhabited primarily by German speakers anyway, Hitler rolled in the Sudetenland on September 30, 1938 and Czechoslovakia was no longer. (Prior to invading, he had issued on ultimatum to the Slovaks to create a country independent from the Czechs or to face Nazi invasion - thus not violating the conditions of Germany's punishment, as Hitler was invading a country that no one recognized. Technically no longer a country at all; a country without a country.

So, temporarily the Czech Republic was split into a sort of no-man's land, the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, and the Reich on the west. Eventually, however, all of the Czech lands were overtaken by the Reich and, until the end of WWII, the Czechs were part of Germany.

WWII came to a violent end with the Allies pushing east and the Soviets pushing west, grappling for control of Berlin. Ultimately, it was the Soviets who liberated the majority of the Czech Republic from the Nazis. Once again, the land was Czechoslovakia and, in the first elections after WWII, the Communist Party gained control. In the second election in 1948, a different Communist party successfully shanghaied the votes and "Carpathian Ruthenia" became part o the USSR.

There would be no more elections for 41 years as the Iron Curtain descended on the Czechs. In true Communist "work will set you free form," the Czechs busied themselves with agriculture, industry, and Communist indoctrination. Here is a our hero, Stalin. But not Stalin is dead, and here is our hero Khrushchev. With de-Stalinization and new-Khrushcheviation (good luck pronouncing that), the rules changed again, as did the area's identity. Though still part of the USSR, in 1960, the country became a socialist republic and, nine years later, they were the Czech Socialist Republic.

20 years after that, of course came the famous call: "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall." Communism was dispelled, east met west, and the Czechs once again were Czechoslovakia, until, in 1993, the Slovaks broke off and the Czech Republic was formed.

If you were born in America, you might cite your heritage as part of your identity, but you label yourself as an American. This is true if you were born last year or 80 years ago. But there are Czech citizens whose country of birth no longer exists because of political turmoil and ever changing boundaries. So, what is home and how do we define it? Is it in the attitude and the flags we fly? The messages we send to the world about what is important to us? Or is it in the perseverance and adaptability, to be able to withstand time and change? As for me, I wish the Czechs from here on out, a long and boring history.

Vienna: Day 1.5

2016-01-24T11:07:00.003-08:00

We arrived in Vienna to the beginnings of a snowstorm. The sky, grey and cloudless, slowly spit fat snowflakes that increased well into the night. The train ride from the airport was long and not terribly scenic - fields and factories - but the seats were cushioned and the heaters were comforting as we looked outside at the snow amassing on the ground. Jake studied the subway map like there would be an exam on it, while I contemplated the fact that I'm probably reading too many war novels because now, whenever I see snow, I think about dreadful it would be to be called to fight in it.

The subway left us off at Kettenbruckengasse, an extremely cute, little subway stop that opens onto the Naschmarkt where I spied some woolly socks that I will be buying. After checking in at the hostel, we embarked towards the Ringstrasse - a ring road that encircles the touristy and historic part of Vienna. Mozart played on the listening guide as numerous composers, the opera house, and other claims to culture appeared to our left and right. I sat by the window so I could take photos, but I was so dumbfounded that I didn't take any.

The train skidded when it stopped, the wet snow muddling the tracks, and, when we disembarked, our shoulders piled high with powdery snow. The light was fading in Vienna and the cold nipped at our ears and noses.

In Stadt Park are monuments to Schubert, Strauss, and numerous other composers, some of whom I've never heard of and I wondered if Vienna was maybe just making up a few names to mess with tourists a bit, kind of like how Athens puts some of their historical relics in the metro system.

The alarm went off at 6:30 this morning. It was Sunday and, unlike most other Sundays, we had to go to church. Standing room only tickets: 0 Euros. Cheese and apricot pastry: 2 Euros. Hearing the voices of the Vienna Boys Choir resound in the Hofsburg Kapelle: Priceless.

The high, vibratoless soprano, amassed in Mozart's Agnus Dei is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There is, in their voices, something holier than Catholicism and for me, much more tangible. I felt a little badly for the high priest, though, knowing that every Sunday he had to preach to a congregation of sinners who were more interested in hearing the Vienna Boys Choir than his sermon.

The snow had stopped and the day was comparably warm. It was about half ten and the Imperial Treasury was in our sights. Just a friendly suggestion: they might want to rename the Imperial Treasury to the Museum of a 1000 Crucifixes. Crucifixes in gold. Crucifixes in bronze. Crucifixes inlaid with mother-of-pearl. You get the idea.

But the crowning glory of the crowned jewels is the Imperial crown of the Holy Roman Emperors. Worn by Charlemagne on his coronation in 1517, the 8-sided crown, which pictures King Solomon, King David, the Prophet Isiah, Christ in Majesty, and featuring 144 precious stones, has been passed down from HRE to HRE, finally to land in the hands of Hapsburgs, to their claim, the crown's rightful descendants.

I, of course, couldn't stop singing Pippin.

One thing I love about Vienna is how quiet it is. Maybe it's just that it's winter or maybe it's the city's imperial nature, but everything is softer here. And the bells of St. Stephan's echo off the cobblestone and their peal is a nice change from the Turkish prayers we hear five times daily.

It is Sunday in Vienna and, good Catholics that they are, mass is everywhere. Every church we see has churchgoers and every pulpit is filled. From the Hapsburg Crypts we can hear the service happening above us. At least for the first hallway. As we descend further into the chambers, the sounds from above fade away and we're left with the posthumous extravagance of the Hapsburgs.

Channing Tatum: Take 2

2016-01-22T06:12:00.001-08:00

I think I may have sent out the wrong message with my initial blog featuring Channing Tatum. To be clear, I am not in some sort of state of self-loathing, nor do I actually buy into the beauty standards set by our society.

The purpose of that blog - which was apparently very poorly achieved - was to state that we all have ups and downs with ourselves. Regardless of our sizes, colors, genders, nationalities, there are days when we look in the mirror and wish something were different. It's being able to move past this stage that takes us on the path to self love, however, and my Channing Tatum blog was merely to say that, "Hey, I was in this stage" and this is how I got out. Reading it over, I will concede that I did not succeed at that and it more sounded like a whining, I-hate-x,y, and z blog. So, I apologize. That was not my intention.

Let me try to voice this more eloquently.

For a long time, I had a lifetime membership to the "Hate Fat" club, which I renewed every year without fail. In order not to make people uncomfortable, I laughed a fat jokes, I only ate "healthy" things in front of people I didn't know very well, and, more importantly, I believed everything they told me. Because, you know, other people are a much better judge of you and your experience than you are yourself.

It seemed like everywhere I turned there were messages just waiting to tell me that my body was bad, ugly, worthless, lazy, and otherwise wrong. And I believed them. I believed that horrible cliche that, inside my fat body was a thin body just waiting to emerge.

I would poke at myself, pulling at areas that irked me, frowning, and thinking to myself, "If I just do..." (fill in new trend here) "then I'll be thin."

Well, here's what happened. I did get thinner. Between ages 19-20 I lost nearly 60 pounds. I still wasn't THIN but I was much thinner. I felt a lot better, which I now realize was less a result of my weight loss and more or result of my new found love of healthy habits, predominantly dance. People treated me better - I got compliments all the time - and I thought, "I'm on my way! Just 40 more pounds to go!" Because, in my mind, I had an arbitrary weight that would equate with penultimate health and happiness.

I maintained what I was doing, the exercising, the diet, and I didn't lose any more weight. I had "plateaued" said the women at the gym.

Well, fuck.

I remained "plateaued" for about 5 years, which is the tail end of the time that people who experience significant weight loss typically experience weight gain. And I started to gain weight back for apparently no reason. And try as I might, it wouldn't go any lower.

Since then, due to different life circumstances - stress, jobs, China, whatever - my weight has gone up and down. At some points, I still engage in days where there are parts of me that I wish I could change, but I am able to remind myself all of the amazing things my body can do and that the problems I find with myself are not actually with me but with society.

And if you don't believe me, believe Channing Tatum.

Compliments of Channing Tatum

2016-01-20T04:05:00.000-08:00

Due to the absence of iPhoto on my HP - damn you, Mac-only products! - I've been in the aborious process of organizing photos, downloading photos from Facebook, and otherwise getting photographs in order after the shift from my 7-year old MacBook to our PC. Anyway, after I organized a crap ton of photos from about five years ago, I downloaded a bunch of photos from our recent trip to Greece.

I wish I could say the first thing I noticed was the beautiful scenery, but the first thing I noticed from our Grecian adventure was the way I looked. One negative thought leaked in and then entered the flood gates of waters rushing down the path of myriad things that I deemed would be "better" if they didn't look the way they did.

This is a stupid and useless process. It takes us nowhere except to self-loathing, which is is destructive and bad for our health. Logically, I can go through the reasons not to give into self-loathing particularly in regards to weight loss which isn't the same as health, isn't a measure of beauty, and hasn't been successfully accomplished in the long term by any more than a small fraction of people, But yet the desire remains to be part of that small fraction - to be the exception.

And for what? While I concede that my life would probably differ if I were thin - strangers would treat me differently, I wouldn't have to work as hard for people's approval that thin people are given instantly by virtue of the fact that they don't embody someone's stereotypes, certain things (like shopping for clothes) might be easier, but would the things that REALLY matter - the people who love me, the experiences I've had, the passions I have - change? No. They wouldn't.

Bodies change. Tides change. Moods change. Things change. And here's Channing Tatum on a never-changing loop to remind you one other thing that will never, ever, ever change:

What is Feminism?

2016-01-12T01:27:00.000-08:00

In writing class we’ve been working on compare/contrast writing. We started by using Venn Diagrams – as you do – to see the similarities and differences between two things. After practicing whole group, we set off to partner work, and I collected this Venn diagram from a sixth grade pair:

This pair of sixth grade girls believed that women could be successful, but were ultimately unpowerful.

Being in Turkey has got me contemplating/hypothesizing/proliferating about gender in a way that I didn’t do in America. Not because America is the be-all-end-all of gender equality, but because my version of normal, everyday sexism is different than Turkey’s normal, everyday version of sexism. When I brought this up at work one day – I don’t remember why, perhaps something about the prevalence of covered women – the conversation went a little something like this:

Female Co-worker: “It’s so much better in America.”

Me: “I don’t necessarily agree with that.” Cue breathless sentence about cat-calling, the glass ceiling, double standards, victim blaming, language, and inherent prejudices and the jokes we make about them because that’s just the way it is.

Female Co-worker: “At least I don’t have to cover myself. And at least my husband doesn’t cheat on me because I’m not a frigid Turkish woman” and some other mansplaining that made me roll my eyes and return my attention to my computer.

I’ve been teaching an adult speaking class on Monday and Tuesday nights and, void of a book, we’ve been engaging in debates centered on TED talks. This past Tuesday, we focused on gender equality. I broached the subject with a t-chart that read on the left side “Men are…” and on the right, “Women are…” According to the adults in my class,

Men are:

- Providers.

- Able to think logically.

- Not fans of shopping.

- Financially responsible.

- Good at science, engineering, math.

- Able to do whatever they want.

- Successful.

- Single-minded.

- Focused.

- A little bit lazy.

Women are:

- Emotionally unstable.

- Financially irresponsible.

- Good at caretaking.

- Great cooks, but are rarely chefs.

- Multi-taskers.

- Jealous.

- Constantly talking about their problems.

I then asked this class, “What is feminism?” Much to my surprise, as I presumed many would shield their eyes with their hands like a vampire being blinded by the harsh light of day, and hiss and scream a little bit, they generally decided that feminism was equalizing the scales. “What does that look like?” I asked.

A young man spoke up and suggested, “It looks like women having to enlist in the army, just like men do.”

Yes, I suppose all things being equal, women should have to do that.

“Does it look like women making money and men caring for children?” I asked. Many in the class laughed as if the idea were utterly preposterous. I inquired as to why.

“That won’t happen,” was the response.

The idea, however, of women having to enlist was not a laughing matter. Fair, as we know, isn’t equal.

Privilege is invisible, particularly to those who have it. It is a luxury to wake up and not have to think about your race, your gender, your ability, your size, your class, your sexual orientation, and numerous other things that are subconsciously – or consciously – on the social hierarchy.

As the adage goes: the first step is admitting you have a problem.

Having privilege is just that, a privilege. As a white women, I can go into a shop and nobody looks twice at me. Except that I’m also a fat woman, so the body checking that happens when I enter a shop that isn’t specifically geared for bigger women happens with an annoying glibness. But nobody thinks I’m going to pocket their merchandise. And when I’m getting onto an airplane, nobody thinks I’m hiding a bomb in my jacket. The privilege of being white makes many things easier. Whiteness is a master key.

The fickle thing about privilege, however, is that it’s really scary when somebody points it out to you or, heaven forbid, works hard to earn the privilege you have already been given. Now, this experience may sound familiar to some of you upon hearing that you are privileged:

Denial: I am most certainly not privileged. I’ve had to work hard for everything I’ve gotten. Nobody gave me any handouts.

Anger: Why is it my responsibility to deal with this problem? I didn’t ask to have privilege! I didn’t ask for other people not have what I have. I shouldn’t have to deal with this.

Bargaining: Why do I have to have the privilege? If I could, I’d give it up so other people could have privilege.

Depression: I’m horribly sad because I have so much privilege. Rudyard Kipling coined an apropos term: "White man's burden."

Acceptance: Yes, I have privilege. I didn’t ask for it and I wish it were different, but now I will navigate the world with the knowledge that privilege exists and I will try hard to remedy what I can.

This is the ideal, anyway. But a lot of people get stuck in anger because, instead of acknowledging that other people are fighting tooth and nail for the same opportunities awarded to a select few, this struggle is viewed as the former’s loss of privilege.

We call this “reverse gender discrimination.” Such accusations are also prevalent in issues of race with affirmative action, which leads to absolutely asinine arguments such as, “I would’ve gotten that scholarship if they didn’t have to give it to a black person/woman/immigrant/any other minority lacking privilege.” Or, “That job should’ve been mine, but because of diversity laws, I didn’t get it.” Most of the time this comes from the mouths of white men. White men – at least white men in the USA and Europe – have been granted the best affirmative action deal in the history of the world. It’s called: the history of the world.

A speaker on feminism, Michael Kimmel, said, “Feminism will make it possible for men to be free.” This means a lot of things. Firstly, on the surface, it means that men will be happier when women are happier. When men share – don’t just pitch in or “help out” (I hate that phrase) – in the housework, child-rearing, and the quotidian chores that had prior been assigned to women, men will be happier because their wives/girlfriends/mothers/sisters won’t be wasting so much energy being annoyed that she’s the only one who does something. When women earn as much as men for the same job, men can be happy that women are self-sustainable and can feel financially accomplished in their work. It can make sex better because the gender roles in sex are extremely tightly wound and can lead to both men and women engaging in actions and behaviors simply because they think they’re supposed to and not because they enjoy it. It can also open up the door for men to do what they enjoy outside of the bedroom. Patriarchy isn’t just stigmatizing for women; it also dictates that men are supposed to be “tough,” “aggressive,” and uninterested in “girly” things like design, caretaking, dance, etc. All the wins!

Annoyingly, though, and Mr. Kimmel addresses this, his opinion is viewed by many of his audiences as “neutral.” In other words, if a woman were to get up there and give the same opinions and same information, her speech would be biased simply based on the fact that she’s a woman. Ergo, many of you will assume that my blog is biased, even if I cite all of the facts. Houston, we have a problem.

As a fat feminist, I frequently – and by frequently, I’m talking at least once a day, normally more – find myself in situations where people are saying or doing things that I feel are insulting, incorrect, or, more likely than not, said out of ignorance. Activism is tricky because 1) it’s not an obligation, 2) it often comes across as piety, and 3) it often elicits this response, “You need to learn to take a joke.”

Well, buddy, I fear you need to learn to take a serious. Believe it or not, jokes that are based on stereotypes are one of the main reasons stereotypes still exist, because jokes normalize it. The thought process becomes, “Everybody knows that (fill in your own ridiculous stereotype here)” instead of something productive or, god forbid, something actually based on reliable information. I’m going to sound like a horrible researcher for a minute, but I read somewhere (and I can’t remember where), that, while most women in America do not believe most men are rapists, most rapists believe men are rapists. Why? Because people make jokes about rape. Because there isn’t a discussion about rape outside of small circles. Because the prevalence of the patriarchal paradigm persists in in normalizing sexism to the extent where it becomes physically and emotionally dangerous.

I know what you’re thinking: Wait a minute, she was just talking about feminism and now she’s talking about rape. She’s not just biased, she’s got terrible organizational skills! Here’s an ugly truth: Intersection. Fucked up shit – oppression against women, transphobia, homophobia, racism, you name it – all intersects. This is why, although activism is always an option not a requirement, I highly advise you taking a good look at some of the thoughts you have, actions you take, and things you say. As cliché as it might sound, change starts with you.

A Winter Wonderland

2016-01-03T06:50:00.002-08:00

On New Year's Eve eve it began to snow, only intermittently at first, but enough to cause grave uproar among any student to eye it. They rushed to the window, mesmerized by the flakes as they littered the sky, melting immediately as they hit the ground. It was almost as if they'd never seen snow before, which is not to say the first snow of the year isn't magical. To be certain, it is, if not soon to grow wearisome and rather obtrusive. The show of flakes lasted only for a minute, but continued this pattern throughout the day, each time eliciting the same response.

While students were busy pressing their faces eagerly to the glass, hurrying to run outdoors upon the ring of the bell, faculty were eagerly checking the forecast. More snow - and less intermittent - it seemed was in our foreseeable future. Chatter happily turned to the possibility of a snow day. "Even an inch," we were told, "is quite a lot here." Without the capacities to clear the roads, perhaps only an inch was needed to deem travel unsafe, although that seemed to me to be an utterly catastrophic thought.

Still, I let myself get swept away in the possibility, and, when morning prayer woke me (as it tends to do), I glanced out the window perchance to see a squall of snow. Happily, I tried to get back to sleep, but my anxious nature kept me waiting for the phone to ring with tidings of great joy and school cancellation. A ring which never came. Come 7:00, the snow was no longer falling and, as if no squall had happened at all, the roads were clear.

On the way to school, however, the bluish skies turned grey and snow poured down, ceasing only once or twice in the afternoon. Classes were half full, in an optimistic sense, with the bravest and heartiest students who chanced to brave the perils of winter. Nothing that a little sand and salt wouldn't fix, to be sure, but without such appropriations, cars misguided themselves through the growing piles of snow and steadfast feet slipped as they walked.

A huge uproar followed the morning announcement that school would be closing early - at 12:30 - a fact for which I was grateful, though it did seem rather silly. If inclement weather was the cause, weren't students presently safer staying where they were? But no mind, as I, too, was excited for the early dismissal.

I, having yard duty that day, which every 40 minutes dragged me outside for 10, spent most of that time warding off snowballs that were hurled this way and that, and watching young students cast their faces up towards the sky, tongues outstretched, to catch the quick-falling, fat flakes of snow.

"The Only Thing You Absolutely Have to Know Is the Location of the Library"

2015-12-30T06:05:00.003-08:00

“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.” - John Greene, The Fault in Our Stars

This post isn't about Turkey or health or travelling or any of that stuff that normally takes up enough space in my brain for me to have to eventually have to transcribe it to paper (electronic or otherwise). Rather, this post is all about my literary pursuits.

It seems like everybody is in search of a good book, and I'm no different. I love reading. Once, when I was younger, I pretended to be sick just so I could finish The Witches instead of going to school. However, I will say that, in high school, I read so many books that I didn't have the wherewithal, perspective, or time to fully appreciate them. So, I've been doing a massive re-read of books I read but didn't fully digest interspersed with titles new to me. So, if you're a fellow bibliophile, I encourage you to scrounge through my (growing) list of titles and please, please, please add your suggestions in the comments!!!

August

Blatantly disobeying my own rule, I saw the movie version of this prior to reading the book. Normally, I spend a great deal of time and energy being annoyed that the book was so far superior to the movie that the latter doesn't even deserve to exist, but I found both the movie and the book of The Fault in Our Stars pretty darn mediocre. Once in a while, the John Green would surprise the reader with a tremendous trinket that interrupted his otherwise trite writing, but in general, you kind of expected everything.

That said, it was still enjoyable. It was a very easy read and of a higher caliber than, say, a romance novel. Still, it is literary junk food.

Best Quote: "If the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God know everyone else does."

Rating: 5/10

********************************************************************

Evidently I did not finish reading this book in high school. I think perhaps I made it through books one and two, but was either too oblivious or was not assigned to finish reading book three.

Holy hell.

If you, like I, never finished this book, or if you haven't read it in a while, I cannot recommend enough for you to pick it up and die a little inside. This is not an uplifting read, but it is of the utmost importance if you want to live in a future not governed by some tyrannical fascists whose eyes are literally everywhere.

In true Orwell fashion, you will see your world reflected in a world that, in theory, should never exist, but in reality lurks beneath the shadowy rocks.

Best Quote: "If you want a vision of the future, imagine boot stamping on a human face - forever."

Rating: 10/10

********************************************************************

Let's be honest: Maze Runner is more literary candy, but if The Fault in Our Stars is the black licorice jelly bean, Maze Runner is a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.

It begins very creepily and the edginess continues, intermittent with a bit of a sappy pseudo-love story that you know is going to blossom but hasn't had quite enough water or sunlight.

Like any good dystopian fiction, there are driving elements of totalitarianism, fascism, and general unease of feeling. In general, I enjoyed this book, but quite despised the movie. For more an that, click here. Caution: spoiler alerts.

Rating: 7/10

Best Quote: " 'Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?' Minho asked.

'Go ahead,' Newt replied.

Minho nodded and faced the crowed. 'Be careful,' he said dryly. 'Don't die.'"

********************************************************************

September

Although this book started off slowly and, in all honesty, took me the better part of the month to read, after about the half way point, I was loathe to put it down. I brought it with me to Greece and eagerly poured through it when our sightseeing was done. That is the hallmark of a good book - still being exciting after spending a day baking at the Acropolis.

The tale is both one of inspiring and heart-breaking friendship as well as remarkable courage shown by one little girl and her daemon, Pantalimon, whose souls are so intertwined that the very thought of ever being separated - as was the current threat - leads them into the wild expanse of "The North" on marvelous adventures and leaves them intact, though this book does not so much have a happy ending as much as an equivocal one.

Rating: 9/10 (because the beginning is slow)

Best Quote: "'If a coin domes down heads, that means the possibility of its coming down tails has collapsed. Until that moment the two possibilities were equal. But on another world, it does come down tails. And when that happens, the two worlds split apart.'"

********************************************************************

"Profoundly moving," as the cover states, is, in my opinion, quite hyperbolic. Fun and easy to read? Yes. Occasionally thought-provoking? To an extent. Characters that you care about? Meh. Maybe sometimes. Adventures you actually believe high schoolers would have? Most certainly not. Myriad cliches and teen angst? Ca-ching!

A glorification of all the possible train wrecks in high school, this book begins with an eerie circumstance: the disappearance of Margo Roth Spiegelman, highly admired high school social elite. The premise of this book is, as you might have guessed, to find MRS and homely(ish) band geek/boy-next-door Quentin is apparently the only one who cares enough to truly commit to finding her, as he feels certain that this time is not like all the other times she has run off randomly and come home with horribly interesting tales. Several times as I was reading this, I was reminded of a line from Dan Bern's song, New American Language: "Sometimes I think the thing to do is to get a place way out in Missouri, put down as many months' rent as you can part with: tell everybody else you went to France."

But I digress. MRS' disappearance is cloaked in mystery and clues that she left behind - intentionally or not - from Walt Whitman to Bob Dylan and, while the rest of his friends are overly concerned with prom and end of the year parties, Quentin is trying to unravel the threads.

As is customary with John Green, his prose is strewn with entirely too much attempt at symbolism and metaphor with obvious success and sincere lack of subtly.

Rating: 5/10

Best Quote: "Those of us who frequent the band room have long suspected that Becca maintains her lovely figure by eating nothing but the souls of kittens and the dreams of impoverished children."

********************************************************************

October

Ah, Orwell, you never disappoint. Down and Out in Paris and London was my first - and certainly not last - occasional with Orwell's nonfiction.

Similar to Barbra Ehrenreich, author of Nickle and Dimed, Orwell describes the life of the poverty stricken in both Paris and London. He himself had fallen on hard times after leaving his post as a policeman in then-Burma to abide the lifestyle of a Bohemian writer in Paris. However, after having nearly all of his earnings stolen, Orwell took up work as a dishwasher and restaurant employee in Paris, workers whose 16+ hours days are detailed as only Orwell can.

To my understandings, his tramping about in London was of his own volition, but he undertook great care to comprehend the difficult life of a vagabond. His reports of the lodging shelters are formidable, at best, but the gentleness with which he pens is entirely forgiving of those who either choose or fell upon this existence.

Rating: 9/10

Best Quote: It is a feeling of relief, almost pleasure, at knowing yourself at last genuinely down and out. You have talked so often of going to the dogs - and well, here are the dogs, and you have reached them, and you can stand it. It takes off a lot of anxiety."

********************************************************************

Yossarian lives!

I had a hard time with the first third of this book, which, judging by my other entries, might have more to do with some hidden aversion to new novels than to any novels' actual beginning. First and foremost, I wasn't sure what the hell was going on. I could surmise that malingering bombardier Yossarian and the other men of his regiment were stationed at Pianosa, Italy in WWII and that Yossarian was frequently displeased because the number of missions he needed to fly kept going up and up and up. The switch of vantage points and caricature-esque nature of Heller's cast made me wonder why in the world this had ever been esteemed as a daring anti-war novel.

At some point, however, something completely shifted. What a magnificent literary feast! The characters - who are stereotypes and hyperboles of all the people you might meet in war - are brilliantly one-sided and have amusing names like "Milo Minderbinder" and "Major Major" as well as hilariously frustrating conversations, each illustrating the vast stupidity of the other, making you feel for Yossarian.

Yossarian, trying desperately to prove he's insane to get out of flying any more missions, is thwarted by his own Catch 22: that the very fact he wants to live proves his sanity.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "'You have deep-seated survival anxieties. And you don't like bigots, bullies, snobs, or hypocrites. Subconsciously there are many people you hate.'

'Consciously, sir, consciously.' Yossarian corrected in an effort to help. 'I hate them consciously.'"

********************************************************************

I read this book in 3 days. 3 morning sittings, actually, prior to work. Unlike John Green, which reads fast but isn't necessarily of too much consequence, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas reads fast but is of considerable consequence.

Mostly from the point of view of 9-year old German boy, Bruno, this book chronicles Auschwitz from the perspective of someone who is not encamped and who doesn't fully understand what's going on.

Occasionally, we are granted the perspective of Schmuel, Bruno's age to the day, who is imprisoned at Auschwitz. Rather than detailing his existence to Bruno, though, he allows Bruno to use him as a sounding board for problems which must seem terribly trivial given Schmuel's situation.

Although written for teenagers, this book is an incredible read as an adult. I both highly recommend it and am anxious to read Boyne's Stay Where You Are and then Leave, his novel about WWI.

Rating: 10/10

Quote: "'Well, you've been brought here against your will, just like I have. If you ask me, we're all in the same boat. And it's leaking.'"

********************************************************************

November

My own presumption had led me to believe that this book was a war allegory in which a group of rabbits overtook a ship that subsequently became entangled in battle and possibly sank. Imagine my disappointment when there were no boats.

Although this is most certainly a war allegory, it is all a land war mostly of territory. Led by a pair of friends, one clairvoyant, the other a natural-born leader, a stalwart group of rabbits leaves their home to seek greener pastures, as they say.

The book divides its time between plot and rabbits storytelling rabbit lore. Beginning with the rabbit origin story, the fables chronicle the cleverest rabbit of all, El-ahrairah, from whom our heroes, in their peril, draw their inspiration.

In all honesty, I found the book pretty slow and skimmed through most of the story telling parts. It was rather a relief to complete it.

Rating: 5/10

Best Quote: "We go by the will of the Black Rabbit. When he calls you, you have to go."

********************************************************************

I'm conflicted as to how I feel about this book. Do I want to read it again, reading further into the rich descriptions, or just toss it aside and shrug my shoulders?

Filled with meticulously written imagery, but lacking in action, this book follows several plots - fifteen, I counted - which can be somewhat confusing to follow, which all eventually merge into one. Beyond that, it seems easier to tell what is isn't than what it is.

It isn't a romance. Although there is a love story in it, romance is not the driving force of the story.

It isn't actually about a circus as we understand circuses. Rather, the "circus" is a mysterious and elegant fair-type extravaganza that contrives and abrogates on a whim.

It isn't a mystery. You, the reader, as well as a handful of characters are fully aware what is going on. The joy is in watching it unfold.

I'm tempted to acknowledge this as some sort of heady masterpiece, but I'm wondering if I'm doing that annoying this of reaping praise simply because I don't fully understand. Maybe the fact that I don't fully understand is a sign of its inferiority. Maybe not. As I said, I'm conflicted.

I think you'd better for this out for yourself.

Rating: Yes.

Best Quote: "People will see what they wish to see. And, in most cases, what they are told to see."

********************************************************************

December

I read this book because I had several students last year who claimed it was the best book they'd ever read. And I made them read Animal Farm, Code Name Verity, and Lord of the Flies, some stiff competition.

On a positive note, it read very fast. On a negative note, the whole story was predictable and bore an unfortunate resemblance to West Side Story, minus the dance-offs. While there are some touching moments of friendship and brotherhood as well as some decent action, this falls under the category of "every book you've ever read" and is lacking in any sort of uniqueness.

Rating: 4/5

Best Quote: "I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me."

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Why, oh why did I ever claim to dislike this book? This was another 3-day endeavor, me loathe to put it down. Some of the most elegant prose I've ever had the privilege of reading, Jay Gatsby this book swims with marvelous contradictions.

A bittersweet love letter to the decadence and decline of 1920s America, this book, though certainly a time piece, transcends the decade. The moral high ground in this text belongs to the narrator, Nick Carroway, and is a path virtually untravelled by the rest of the characters, particularly, Jay Gatsby, the enigmatic millionaire who lives next door to Mr. Carroway. Fitzgerald spends the duration of his short novel peeling away Gatsby's layers and revealing what Fitzgerald must believe is the utter degradation of America.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "'They're a rotten crowd,' I shouted across the lawn. 'You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.'"

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I asked for this book last Christmas and happily received it. However, the lilliputian print, mammoth size, head-scratching vocabulary like "glottochronology," and the heady, scientific knowledge imparted made the reading frustratingly slow, so I put it on the shelf. Truthfully, I never picked it up again. Rather, I got myself a free Audible download and chose this, as the subject was of great interest to me, and listened attentively while I worked on a puzzle or did Pilates.

The thesis of this work essentially is that everything we've been taught regarding Native Americans is wrong. Which is not to say that we've been malignantly misinformed, though sometimes it feels that way, but rather that, because of cultural assumptions, poor interpretations, and political gain, the Native American narrative has been molded to fit western convenience.

Actually, according to Mann, we've stripped Native Americans of a history. We've contended that they - and he means "they" meaning all Native populations - lived symbiotically with nature, had small tribes, and lived virtually unchanged until Europeans showed up on the continent. In other words, they are a people without history.

Although Mann is not an archaeologist, he attended many expeditions and was responsible for recording the findings. What many archaeologists have found suggest that Native Americans not only lived fully functional lives, but rather expansive lives, manipulating nature and existing quite possibly in higher numbers than in most of Europe at the time. He expostulates nearly 600 pages of evidence, careful to show contradicting sources as well, that calls into question that profiles of Native Americans rampant in American history textbooks.

Certainly not an easy read, this text is enlightening and thought provoking. I would suggest the audiobook over the text, unless you've got the big print version, simply for ease of reading.

Rating: 9/10

Best Quote: "On Columbus' later voyages, his crew happily accepted godhood - until the Taino began empirically testing their divinity by forcing their heads underwater for long periods to see if the Spanish were, as gods should be, immortal."

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Imagine a world in which the Allies lost WWII and all of the Earth is split between Japanese and Nazi control, save for the ever neutral Switzerland. Now imagine meticulously craft characters many of whom have so well acclimated to this world that they forgot the old. Now imagine that nothing exciting happens until 75% of the way through. Couple that with the choppy, grammatically incorrect thoughts and conversations - written, I presume, to reflect the "Japanization" of the Pacific States of America - and you've got yourself a rather frustrating read.

The premise is thought-provoking, terrifying, and all together unsettling, but if you, as I was, are looking for action, gruesomeness, and 1984-esque horror, you're knocking at the wrong door with this book. However, if you're in the mood for a philosophical perusal of characters gravely assimilated to a horrific situation (which doesn't really seem all that horrific in this book), perhaps you might give this one a try.

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JANUARY

Wuthering Heights is a romance novel for people who hate romance novels. Wrought with symbolism and metaphor, but very smartly done so as not to be annoying or overly overt,

So entranced was I in this novel, that I finished the book over the long, New Year's weekend and still had time to begin Emma.

Bronte's language is magnificent - proper, according to the time - yet coated in a mysterious air, similar to the wild moors of Wuthering Heights.

Rating: 9/10

Best Quote: "'If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.'"

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Man, I really wanted to love this. I so wanted to be asborbed in the prose that enlightens the tediums of women's lives in the 19th century, but all I was was bored. I guess it's a good thing I didn't exist at this point in time.

Emma herself is quite clever and somewhat revolutionary as she isn't actively seeking a husband, although her primary intention is to find a suitable partner for her protogee, Harriet. Unfortunately, Emma is an egregiously crap matchmaker.

While Austen's choice of writing a non-lovable main character was bold, this novel really wasn't for me. If I could sum it up, it'd go a little something like this:

Emma: Harriet, we simply must find you a husband.

Harriet: I couldn't agree more. How about that guy over there?

Emma: Impossible. Too low birth. Let's try that guy over there.

Harriet: Impeccable, Emma! How smart and clever you are to have noticed that guy over there. I certainly could never have done it myself.

A few weeks later...

Emma: JK, Harriet, dear. He's already engaged.

And then repeat. But also add in an unfortunate number of conversations about a piano forte.

As I said, this book does some commendable things and certainly ruminates upon the existence of 19th century upper-echelon women, so much so that it almost feels satirical. Austen is fond of lengthy prose and what are, in this reader's opinion, heart-wrencingly dull conversations between rich people. It's easy to get down on Emma as, let's face it, despite her good intentions she's actually pretty selfish and shockingly bad at the thing she claims to be best at.

Rating: 5/10 for bravery in showcasing an unlikable narrator and for redeemable qualities that simply weren't suited to my taste.

Best Quote: Emma's opinion of Frank Churchill was a little shaken the following day, by hearing that he was gone off to London, merely to have his hair cut.

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Having finished my third John Green novel, I've finally figured him out and I think I don't have to read him anymore. To my account, John Green is actually the embodiment - or living vicariously through - his male protagonists: skinny, band geek, and social outcast pining after a enigmatic girl who speaks in annoyingly vague phrases and randomly takes off and surrounded by a small group of friends whose conversation can only be described as witzkrieg.

Looking for Alaska is probably the best John Green book I've read, but I'm not sure how high a compliment that is. Again an easy read - I read the final half of it yesterday in about 3 hours - this book follows Miles "Pudge" who goes off to Culver Creek Boarding School in Alabama where he meets his first ever close friends and Alaska Young, the mysterious and beautiful girl who, for most of the story I believed suffered from schizophrenia.

For the first half of the story, Pudge and his friends engage in ever-so-clever high school pranks and spend the second half of the book trying to unravel the mystery that is Alaska Young.

Best Quote: "They love their hair because they're not smart enough to love something more interesting."

Rating: 5/10

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So, once in a while, I read what other people think of the books I read, too, not for validation or because I can't form my own opinion, but because I'm curious about other people's perceptions. Amazon reviewers mostly love this book calling it "marvelous" and "brilliant" while asking for "more please!"

I thought it was pretty terrible and was thankful that it only took about an hour to finish, as opposed to some other novels which have wasted my time for considerably longer.

I love Peter Pan. I adore the original story and I enjoy stories that have spun off from the original. I was very excited to hear the interpretations of the Pan's origin. Mostly, I was bored. K.R. Thompson's writing is rote and unimaginative, the complete opposite of Peter Pan. Honestly, what irked me the most was that it's barely an origin story. Peter the "guardian" becomes Peter Pan in a matter of, oh, five pages, and the rest of the time is spent stealing other boys to go to Neverland with him.

What this does do - although could definitely have done better - is to show that Peter Pan isn't the boy hero we make him out to be; it gives him a third dimension, however scantily built.

Best Quote: "'Am I?' he asked. 'Am I real?'"

Rating: 3/10

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At its broken heart, this war story is a testament to love. On a surface level, it is a testament to the love the narrator, Frederick, exhibits for his girlfriend/wife/doesn't need a title, Catherine, a British nurse working near the Western Front. Deeper, it's a testament to the love that can exist in the midst of unyielding catastrophe, violence, and destitution.

Our narrator is an American working as an ambulance driver in Italy during WWI. The quintessential unreliable narrator - admitting to the lies he tells and regularly drunk - A Farewell to Arms is his confession and his way to both keep the memory of his fallen comrades alive, but also to unhinge himself from the overwhelming pain that burdens his soul.

While I will contest that much of Catherine's dialogue made my stomach turn a little - she regularly tells Frederick that he is her religion, all she has, and that she will die without him - and that Catherine - one of two female characters - is more or less only there to further the plot for the male protagonist, I don't think that this particular Hemingway novel is as rife with sexism as many critics believe. Once again, this is a case where we have to dig a little deeper to see the bravery, progressiveness, and independence that Catherine shows throughout the novel. Hey, why not read it and decide for yourself?

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "'I am afraid of the rain because sometimes I see me dead in it. [...] and sometimes I see you dead in it."

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It's no wonder The Iron Heel isn't as well known as Call of the Wild and White Fang. Like many superior things, it has remained out of the mainstream.

Set somewhere near the year 4000, The Iron Heel is a the manifesto of revolutionist Avis Everhard, chronicling her transition from the bourgeois to socialist revolutionary, inspired by her husband, Ernest Everhard, at the turn of the 20th century. Her manuscript is now in the hands of a university student, perhaps, who adds footnotes for the modern (4000 A.D.) reader, who might not understand about factory mills and wage wars.

Part political screed, part pre-1984 Orwellian horror, this book does an impressive job of filling your soul with hope and then stomping on it with, well, an iron boot. Loaded with ideology, The Iron Heel, though published in 1908, is just as relevant then as it is now.

London references contemporary issues such as the slaughterhouses that Sinclair Lewis tears to bits in The Jungle, the disappearing middle class, trust companies that bogart the profits of smaller businesses and corner the free market, corrupt political, religious, and business officials that, beyond anything, are too short-sighted to understand the dramatic effects of their actions. He also uses historical support to aid his cause, which may or may not be in favor of Socialism (I can't quite ascertain whether or not London is mostly in support of Socialism or if he's painting socialists as short sighted as the Capitalists whom they fought).

Reading this is akin to reading Orwell - that same punch you in the gut, makes your heart hurt, feel like your soul is slowly dying feeling - that is far from the warm-fuzzies but makes up for it in the social importance. You kind of have to read this book. You know, for the sake of the Republic.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "And through it all moved the Iron Heel, impassive and deliberate, shaking up the whole fabric of the social structure..."

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Paul is 18. Paul is 19. Paul is 20. Paul's age is insignificant because the years that carry him from adolescence to adulthood are spent on and off the front line of the German Army, watching his comrades - his friends, the only individuals on earth who understand his experience - return to the clay.

Semi-autobiographical, All Quiet on the Western Front is a mixture of terror, grief, beauty, and humor that reminds you that, above all, it is humanity that is sacrificed to violence, and humanity is the only thing that can overcome the violence.

Another fast read, you don't need to be a history buff, a war enthusiastic, or a peacenik to appreciate the honesty in Remarque's prose. You just need to be human.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "We were eighteen and had begun to love life and the world; and we had to shoot it to pieces."

FEBRUARY

Kafka takes no prisoners. You're chugging along through the book, you're thinking, "Well done, Kafka, you've done it again." Kafka is twisting you up with the relentlessness of protagonist Joseph K.'s treatment, the maligning of his character, the ineptitude of the court, and the sheer fact that he never knows why the hell he is on trial, and then the ending happens.

You're punched in the gut and you're pissed off for myriad reasons, but mostly because you never learn what K. was accused of and then the book is over. In a harsh, brutal way.

This book is a nightmare that K. lives for for the duration of his 30th year. On the surface, The Trial is a legal drama that illustrates the ineptitude of bureaucracy. But it's also Kafka so, obviously, that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Best Quote: "'It is not necessary to accept everything as true, one must only accept is as necessary.'"

Rating: 9/10

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"Billy Pilgrim has become unstuck in time." I don't even know where to begin reviewing this book because I can't quite grasp how best to explain it. Everything I've been formulating in my head sounds paltry and insufficient. Here's what I've got:
- It's about war.
- It's about destruction.
- It's about time and how humans perceive it.
- It's about sanity and insanity.
- It's about trauma.

This book has no perceivable structure. It, along with its protagonist, unlikely war veteran, Billy Pilgrim, just from time and space to time and space without much warning or fanfare.

Billy's daughter is convinced that he's going insane because Billy claims to time travel, which, at least for the purposes of this book, he actually does. He travels in an out of Dresden before and after its destruction, to and from Trafalmadore - a planet that has kidnapped Billy Pilgrim and put him in a zoo - to Sugarbrush Mountain in VT where Billy was one of two plane crash survivors as well as to other places of importance to the strange, non-hero protagonist. In the midst of time travelling, Billy and some other characters lead lives, which they are bound to repeat in certain moments and which exist alongside other lives.

In short, the entire book is an exercise in bizarre, genius repetition. And then birds will ask you then, "Poo-tee-weet?"

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."

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I think, perhaps, I should give up on reading plays and instead just go to see them or, you know, search on YouTube for a filmed version or something. Trying to read them aloud makes the whole thing too much of a farce for me and, especially with a play as dark and mysterious sounding as "Ghosts," I figured I shouldn't be treating it lightly.

Turns out I was right. There is absolutely nothing light about this play. Nothing at all. There are five characters in this play and an ever-present ghost who more or less dominates the lives of all of these characters, although the ghost isn't so much a physical manifestation as much as a mental anguish.

Cut to infidelity, incest, arson, syphilis, and a Sophie's choice of an ending and you've got yourself a gloomy fjord of a Norwegian play. It is, however, an incredibly interesting ending - if you're the type who likes to read plays - and I'm still wondering how I would lean it if I were ever to direct it.

Rating: 8/10 (mostly because I don't like reading plays, which isn't Ibsen's fault)

Best Quote: There must be ghosts all the country over, as thick as the sands of the sea. And then we are, one and all, so pitifully afraid of the light."

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Adam Hochschild is probably my favorite historian. This is the third work of his that I read and it did not disappoint, although ti lacked the narrative flair that I've become accustomed to in his writing. There are no shortages of books written about WWI - from chronological histories praising the bravery of troops on both sides to histories about the almost criminally incompetent war strategies of the Allies, whose plan was, essentially, to send as many troops to the front as possible for a deadly game of chicken. Hochschild's chronology is British-centric in that it chronicles a few of the war's most prominent figures both abroad and at home, but its message is certainly not of the type you'd receive from General Hague or Rudyard Kipling. Rather, Hochschild examines the perspectives of many war protesters, conscientious objectors, Socialists, and suffragettes alongside the traditionally hailed "war heroes." Examining the intricate relationships these sometimes conflicting sects had, Hochschild succeeds in making this history very human.

However, for some reason I can't quite explain, this particular book did not offer the same page turning anticipation I had experienced when reading both King Leopold's Congo and The Unquiet Ghost. This is not to say that this book isn't interesting, purposeful, and worthwhile; it certainly is. If you're very much interested in WWI and are looking for a non-traditional perspective, this is an excellent choice. If you're just interested in histories in general, though, I would recommend one of those other two titles.

Rating: 8/10

Best Quote: “Unlike, say, witch-burning, slavery, and apartheid, which were once taken for granted and are now officially outlawed, war is still with us.”

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I hate absolutely everything about this book except Fitzgerald's writing. This is the polar opposite of anything by Nathaniel Hawthorne for me - wherein I'm constantly screaming, "You have the best plots! Why do you have to kill them with your tedious writing!" But I digress.

Fitzgerald is an elegant, thoughtful, and imaginative author, but this text is filled with a detestable cast of characters who truly may not know their asses from their elbows. Similar to Gatsby in the author's condemnation of American frivolity, The Beautiful and the Damned follows lazy, presumptive heir to a fortune Anthony Patch and his beautiful, petty, and equally lazy wife, Gloria on their road to parties, overspending, infidelity, WWI, failing at business, and alcoholism.

While I normally love stories with doomed heroes, this was a true struggle to finish. Perhaps if I cared - even very slightly - about the characters, their ill-fated adventures would have felt more alive, more resonant. But, as it was, I couldn't help but thinking that, most of the time, they really had it coming.

Rating: 4/10

Best Quote: "I learned a little of beauty - enough to know that it had nothing to do with the truth."

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Historical fiction to a degree, autobiography to a degree, Children to a Degree is the first of a four part series, although it was written last. The author himself was a German child during the Nazi reign and his protagonist, Karl, is most certainly a reflection of himself.

While this book is easy to read, there's a lot to digest and I'm very curious about the three other books. That said, this book isn't incredibly special. The characters are memorable to a degree and the tension is certainly palpable, but this isn't a kick-you-in-the-face/knock-you-on-your-ass book. By and large, despite the subject matter, it is a pleasant read and worth your time.

Rating: 7/10

Best Quote: " 'Herr Hitler is the very person he wants to eradicate. He might have started out with good intentions, but he is mentally unbalanced and now almost insane.'”

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Firstly, let me say that I plan on both developing a curriculum for and eventually teaching this book; and then let me say that I don't get narrative poetry.

I read a book like this last school year with my 7th graders called Under the Mesquite. The pros of this book - like The Firefly Letters - were that it was easy to read and understand, held moments of depth, featured a strong female narrator, and gave sound to a voice normally unheard. However, my qualm lies in the fact that narrative poetry functions just as well as paragraphs. The Firefly Letters, while certainly inviting opportunity for some deeper reading, doesn't give the feel of poetry. I'm not able to interpret meaning, there isn't a clear rhythm to it, and it reads like paragraphs that have been chopped up and put into separate lines. So, what's the point?

That said, I did enjoy this work for the sheer fact that it combats both racism and sexism.

Rating: 7/10

Best Quote: "My heart drums with gratitude./My heart sings/with hope."

MARCH

Oh, Oprah, you've done it again. Seriously, if I only ever picked books to read from Oprah's book list, I'd never read a crappy book again. So, I know you all have probably already read this book and seen the movie; I jump onto trends late. And I still haven't seen the movie. But I loved this book. I really looked forward to picking it up and getting the perspective of each protagonist.

Stockett definitely took a risk embodying both black and white characters when she herself could only fully understand the white perspective, but I think she did it very tactfully and did justice to a cause that is still problematic, though now it's different colors.

Definitely filled with strong women, this novel transcends color lines and fills women with hope for equity. A huge recommendation for this book.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "All I'm saying is, kindness don't have no boundaries."

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So, let me start by saying I loved this book, but I'm not totally sure I understood all of it, and it definitely is going to warrant a second reading.

The whole text and its manipulation of time is a bit ouroborosian. Let me break it down, mostly for me but a little bit for you too. A family founds it own town, very utopian and what not, where everything is hunky dory and nobody dies. Until it is introduced to the outside world. Then, the story begins its epic downfall, which lasts the majority of the novel.

The characters are embodiments of their names and Marquez describes them with nearly complete objectivity. I'm working out some themes in my head, but I haven't yet reached anything decisive. If you have insight or ideas about this book, I'd love to hear them.

Rating: 10/10...again, this might be the pretentious "I'm rating it high because I don't fully comprehend it" rating.

Best Quote: "'The world must be really fucked up,' he said, 'when men travel first class and literature goes as freight.'"

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This book is about 20,000 times better than Fifty Shades of Gray, but it still wasn't overly fantastic. The downfall of this otherwise unique story was the writing, which tended towards trite, obvious, and often redundant.

The premise of this book is something quite unique: a Vietnamese perspective of South Vietnam after the Americans left. Our protagonist, Y'Tin, is an avid elephant trainer who must grapple with some harsh realities as they begin to unfold in front of him.

There are occasional uses of the Rhade language in this story as well as myriad facts about Vietnam that would most likely be new to the average western reader.

All in all, this book was okay. It read fast and had moments of things that could have been profound were the writing a little bit better.

Rating: 5/10

Best Quote: "The jungle changes a man."

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I had read this book before, but not for a while, and Jake and I decided to read it together. I had forgotten how delightfully intelligent Carroll's writing is. It's whimsical, at times frustrating, and always so precise.

This book epitomizes profound children's literature. It doesn't apologize for challenging topics nor seek to shield the child (Alice, or the reader) from the confusion and danger that exists in the world. Instead, it imagines these situations in an entirely fantastical world in a story almost devoid of plot, but which certainly anticipates the 20th century obsession with the psyche.

While the language itself can be challenging to dissect, I would consider it a smart, fun challenge that is well worth your time. In a world where we're spoon fed our laughter via laugh tracks and obvious, slapstick humor, it's a refreshing change to sit back and use your brain for a while.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "'I don't think...' 'Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter."

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APRIL

This book is a long-standing favorite and, those of us who were there, know that we used quotes from it during our wedding ceremony. Every time I read this book, I get a little more out of it, like its depth is infinite, a well with unlimited water.

Set up as a children's story, this book certainly embraces magical elements inherent in children's books but there are many lessons for adults to glean as well. The Little Prince will warm your heart and make you laugh and cry as, with the mystical little boy, you learn how very consequential your rose is.

Rating: 10/10

Best Quote: "'People have forgotten this truth,' the fox said. 'But you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose.'"

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So, let me start by saying that I enjoyed this SOOOOO much more than I enjoyed Emma. Perhaps it was that I was already familiar with the basic story line (it being adapted to many mainstream movies and adopted into many subsequent stories) or perhaps it was because I didn't hate everybody. But it did have some very Emma-esque qualities. Reading this novel is kind of like having a conversation with Ellen Page in Juno: It's constantly saying snarky things in a totally deadpan way. Austen is clearly communicating her dislike of the fashion in which the world of Pride and Prejudice is set and lets us know - regularly - how ridiculous her characters' behaviors and thoughts are. While I believe Emma sought a similar purpose, Pride and Prejudice, in my opinion, does it in a more entertaining and ultimately readable way. And, even though I knew that Austen thought her characters were ridiculous and I agreed with her, I really only hated Lydia and Wickham, who is a dick, let's just face it.

As is typical with Austen, Pride and Prejudice explores themes of feminism, marriage, and love, and also, as the title suggests, both pride and prejudice, by which all of the characters are afflicted.

If early 19th century writing isn't your thing, I would suggest you click on over to Librivox and have someone read it to you. Truthfully, this book isn't going to have a lasting affect on my life, nor will I be chomping at the bit to recommend it to people. Still, it's pretty alright and if you have some time, it's a worthy filler.

Rating: 8/10

Best Quote: "'I have not the pleasure of understanding you.'"

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I have literally so much to say that I don't even know where to begin. First off, I have to credit StoryWonk, who did this absolutely amazing podcast on the first Harry Potter book and from whom I've gathered a lot of what I have to say.

Firstly, I must acknowledge that I was very, VERY late to the Harry Potter party. I was a little bit "old" for HP when it first came out, then I heard some rather unsavory things about JK Rowling and boycotted the series all together. I ended up reading the books for the first time when I was 24 and will be reading them all again to dig through the absolutely amazing world that JK Rowling has created.

Although the first book - especially when compared to the later ones - is certainly more childish, it sets a really excellent foundation and, I believe, can stand on its own. The parallels between Dumbledore, McGonaggal, and Hagrid and Harry, Hermoine, and Ron are a joy to spot, as are the skillful transitions Rowling uses to bring her characters from place to place. To be certain: this is more than just a child's book.

One thing that has vexed me is this: Whose story is this? Book 1 begins and ends with the Dursleys and, as we know, beginnings and endings are important. Although the story follows Harry (and obviously his name is in the title), who really owns this story? Who is telling it and for what purpose? Anyway, this is a definite must-read, in my opinion. A fair warning: if you go through it fast, you'll enjoy it, but you won't have the absolute dorky pleasure of thinking of it as a modern classic.

Rating: 9/10

Best Quote: "'Go on, have a pasty,' said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with."

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MAY

In truth, I've been able to rap the first 18 lines of this old school epic for over a decade. But, since

both times I read this in high school the focus was the highlights rather than the comprehensive view, I missed a lot, and, since Jake and I are headed to Canterbury near the end of our pilgrimage, we thought it only fitting to read The Canterbury Tales.

I'd forgotten the abundance of farting and sex jokes, which I'll take as proof that humor hasn't improved much since the 1390s. In addition to the blatant bawdiness, this book is imbued with all sorts of "dangerous" qualities. On the surface, it's a group of religious pilgrims making their way to the shrine of St. Thomas Aquinas at Canterbury, which seems wholesome enough. They challenge each other to a story-off (let's equate that to a rap battle) and proceed to tell stories about infidelity, robbing church-goers of money and tithes, farting directly in people's faces, and all sorts of sex. Sort of loses its wholesome qualities, no?

Another layer of its "danger" is the fact that Chaucer is saying some pretty scandalous things about the church. He has several characters (namely the Pardoner and the Reeve) who work for the church, but make their living robbing the church's congregations. The icing on the cake is the fact that Chaucer wrote this in English (albeit Olde English) and not Latin. Think of that as the modern equivalent of flipping someone the bird.

What makes this extra cool - as if it needed the Fonz's leather jacket - is the fact that most literary historians suppose the Tales to be based on real people Chaucer knew. Chaucer himself makes several appearances in this tale as well. I think his progress and insight in the Tales is among the most interesting aspects.

In short, I do not recommend reading this in Old English unless you already have a working knowledge of the language and/or of Chaucer. Doing so is a giant pain in the butt and it is unlikely that you'll get much out of the read except a headache. There are many modern adaptations that have maintained the integrity of the original work but put it into a language modern readers can understand. It's in the public domain, so just Google it. It's really a fun read, if you're in the mood for some rhyming toilet humor. I'm front-listing Peter Ackroyd's retelling of the Tales, which has been sitting on my bookshelf for too long, when I get home.

Rating: 9/10

Best Quote: "I will eviscerate you in fiction. Every pimple, every character flaw. I was naked for a day; you will be naked for eternity." (from The Knight's Tale)

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Let me just get this out there: I love George Eliot. Love love love. I was, in fact, the only student in Bill Devino's literature seminar class at Whitingham High School to appreciate Silas Marner. Mill on the Floss (MotF) is a beautiful family story wrapped in a melodrama wrapped in a biblical flood.

According to many bibliophiles, MotF is indirectly bibliographic; meaning that, while Eliot bases her main characters on herself and people she knew, the characters do not follow Eliot's life. This is a rather epic work that spans the duration of Maggie's life from childhood black-sheep to young adult mysterious sex-pot, to her *SPOILER ALERT * untimely death. This book is essentially a soap opera, minus the long-lost twins, but including the comas. We've got family estrangement, loss of employment, bitterly sought-after revenge, a coma, humiliation, poverty, a love triangle, crazy family members, and, my personal favorite plot twist, the deeply explored theme of feminine power in a patriarchal world.

Eliot's writing has a fluency all her own. I find it somewhere between Austen and Charlotte Bronte, without the tediousness of the former or the embellishment of the latter. It can take a little getting used to, but, for me, her writing is so worth it. While I don't find MotF to be as satisfying a read as Silas Marner, and I wouldn't suggest it be your first rendezvous with Ms. Eliot, I hope that eventually this book will come off your book shelf.

Rating: 7/10

Best Quote: "What a different result one gets by changing the metaphor!"

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BookBub told me this book was free and it looked readable and moderately entertaining and that is exactly my assessment of Dirty Parts of the Bible. It had some funny moments and the story itself was interesting enough. Definitely a good beach read or a lazy day read. It goes fast, it's easily digestible, and their are some parts that will make you laugh out loud.

The basic premise: Tobias was born to a heavily Baptist farther who had to move to cold, remote Remus, Michigan to find potential converts. After being blinded by bird poop, going on an alcoholic bender, and crashing his car resulting in the loss of his priesthood, Thobias' father sends him on a quest for money buried in a well in Glen Rose, Texas.

Thobias, a young adult mostly interested in breasts, meets an interesting cast of characters on his quest, including a hobo, a prostitute, and a cursed girl. After many a curve ball, things eventually work out okay on all ends. Oh, and Thobias eventually has sex. Which is good because he spends the whole book talking about how much he wants to.

Rating: 6/10

Best Quote: "'Society always tries to enslave , imprison, and execute its greatest men, those who dare to stand apart and rise above.' He scratched his chin. 'That's why I'm keeping a low profile - so the bastards don't get me.'"

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I spent a lot of this book wishing that Lily Bart would just shit or get off the pot. Let me back up: Lily Bart is an exceptionally beautiful, but not exceptionally well-off unmarried woman of 28 living in a time and place where society expects her to to be married, beautiful, and rich. What she was taught and what she seems to inherently believe is that she needs to marry rich no matter how repulsive the husband. And she dangles many on a string.

However, something always keeps her from letting him bite. She oversleeps and cannot attend an early morning church service, she insults them - things that seem self-sabotaging to her surface-level cause, but are actually her self-preservation.

I picked this book up because I like Edith Wharton and, after Mill on the Floss, I was in the mood to read some more feminist literature. It took me a while to find the feminism in it, but it is there and it is in your face. Think of The House of Mirth as your worst high school nightmare, but then top it with some ambiguity. Are we supposed to read this and condemn the mean girls and the hierarchy that allows the status quo to be maintained? Or is fitting in better than the trials and tribulations of going against the grain?

HoM is Wharton's debut novel and I highly recommend it, although you might initially detest Lily Bart as much as I do. Particularly considering its age, it's a very readable work.

Rating: 9/10

Best Quote: "She was so evidently the victim of the civilization which had produced her, that the links of her bracelets seemed like manacles chaining her to her fate."

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A Self-Important Blog

2015-12-29T09:37:00.000-08:00

We've had photocopiers with built-in staplers since the mid-1980s. I work at a school where students - well, parents - pay 30,000 TRY to attend. Why must I spend my prep block stapling multi-page photocopies?

Last year, about once a week I forgot to push the "staple" option on my photocopies, and I pawned
off the unsavory task of sorting and stapling to unlucky students in lunch detention or over-eager students who thought any job was a reward. Congratulations! You get to click this piece of plastic together!

This year, no such luck in the pawning off department. Every 2-3 weeks I spend between 30 and 40 minutes sorting and stapling up to 150 packets, exams, or worksheets because, evidently, TED can't be
bothered to invest in a photocopier with a stapler. Apart from combination printer/scanner/copiers, I was unaware you still had the possibility to opt out of a stapler. No, thanks, I'll choose the way where I have to do a banal task that takes me away from other important things I could be doing. Make sure to put a lot of those tie wraps on just slightly too tight so I can wedge scissors in there and I can spend at least a half an hour frustratingly trying to force it open.

This adage that the Director of Operations at Veritas pours through my head every time I'm sitting in my chair, trying not to slouch into a spineless nothingness as I staple: "If it doesn't directly benefit the students, it's not worth your time." So, things like cleaning the board, stapling, and removing all th

e tacks from bulletin boards - things that indirectly affect students - were assigned to students, who, like indentured servants, didn't really have an option. All this so we could go on doing actually important things like planning a curriculum, grading essays, and making that little T-Rex jump over cacti when the internet was down.

Now, honestly, I feel slightly offended when I have to staple things, which makes me feel slightly imperialistic and consequently somewhat disturbed. I want to clarify: I am not "too good" to staple. It is, however, an utter waste of my time.

PeeMan vs. Bobby

2015-12-06T00:26:00.000-08:00

Most of you know that my classrooms this year lack...shall we say...structure. Most of the work I do during and outside of class has about a 40% completion rate, but this past week, I asked students to create their own superheroes and supervillains. This assignment bordered on 100% completion and actually gleaned some creativity. I've cleaned up some of the grammar for readability's sake, but I'd like to share with you what I now have to apparently do all year in order to get more students to write in English.

SUPERHEROES

What are your superheroes powers?
- My superhero's powers are super strength, flying, spiderwebs to shoot, and all women's love power.
- He has got four arms and two brains, but in one head.

Origin Story: How did your superhero become a superhero?
- In a war, he ate a radioactive cherry. Normally, he is a big biter.
- When she was sleeping in her bed, a bird came and vomited a strange green slime.
-He did my homework.
- Bill Jobs is an ordinary boy. He is about 16. His father is a famous economist who works on Wall Street His father's name is Steve Gates. One day, he accidentally fell into the biggest economic computer and turned into Business Man!
- He ate popcorn in a whale, then he became a superhero.

What does your superhero look like?
-Like Emma Watson. No costume.
-Very good people. He always wears a wet suit. Ultra fish eyes.
-He has triceps. He hasn't got a costume.

Alterego: What is the personality of the regular person?
-She loves maths. She has got two friends. She is good at sports. She wants to be a very good newspaperest.
-Idiot.

Appearance: What does your supervillain look like?
- He wears the Russian flag and a Putin mask.

What weaknesses does your superhero have?
-Lions.
-My superhero and Ege (the student who wrote this) are both in love with Emma Watson.
- LeCola
- Business Man is afraid of cheap things.

Who is your superhero's main enemy? Why are they enemies?
- His mom, his cat, and Antman.
-Teachers.

What kind of weapons/tools/equipment does your supervillain have?
- His bottom, his penis, and his eyes.

SUPERVILLAINS

What are your supervillain's powers?

-Lying, eating, speaking with unknown words.

Origin Story: How did your supervillain become a supervillain?

- My supervillain is a robber and he stole the bank.

What kind of weapons/tools/equipment does your supervillain have?

- She has very long nails.

-Ketchup and mayonnaise.

Who is your supervillain's main enemy? Why are they enemies?

-It's pizza. Because he doesn't like pizza.

- My supervillain's main enemies are the police and pink trinket users.