Notification of potiential gregarity reduction

Just a little note: my postings may be a bit more sporadic than usual for the next week or two. I started a new medication, Samento, also known as cat's claw or uncaria tomentosa, for CFIDS/Lyme Disease/subclinical bacterial infection/whatever the hell it is and it makes me a bit more lethargic than normal.

Yah, I know. That sounds like the opposite of what I'm looking for here.

But if this is a bacterial issue, as my body increases its ability to kill off the bacteria -- which is what the Samento is supposed to do -- then the dead bacteria become rather toxic and cause something called a Herxheimer Effect, also known among those in Chinese, homeopathic, or naturopathic medicine as a "healing crisis" in which you get sicker before you get better. I do have a little control over this in that I can titrate the amount of Samento I take each day to what is more tolerable. But until I've got it figured out, I may not be quite as gregarious.

The much anticipated cystoscopy is schedule for Tuesday. I'm not sure how I'm going to feel like afterwards as I couldn't even pee when the doctor stuck a catheter in me back in October and anesthesia can affect me for longer than normal.

In the meantime, I have some homework for you all: an article about C.S. Lewis in the New Yorker called "Prisoner of Narnia." I had an important epiphany (well, for me it was) about imagination/magic/mysticism the other night that I don't yet have the energy to write about. But this article contributed to that epiphany and thus would be good background reading for my eventual post.

Yeah, I know. I'm pretty damn pretentious to think my posts are important enough to require background reading and that you all don't have anything better to do than wait with baited breath for my next post.

Humor me. I miss teaching. There are even moments I miss grading those abominable freshmen compositions. Yep, really.

A nice, quiet Boxing Day

Here's something I saw over at beppeblog that gave me a chuckle. Just how would the Christmas story play out in our bureaucratic society?

Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas -- or are having a great Hanukkah.

Mine had a busy run up with baking and a bit of shopping and making presents (neck pillows with lavender and ylang ylang essential oils, bath scrub, and perfume). Though we didn't do the tree and decorating -- the only time I haven't with the exception of 1998 when I had surgery. Still have boxes that haven't been unpacked, and didn't have the energy to unpack them in order to make room to put up a tree. So, a poinsettia I bought a few weeks back has had to suffice.

But now I have a nice Christmas bouquet that A. bought me adding holiday cheer, along with a lucky bamboo and some nice, non-synthetic lavender bath items. I got him some cigars, two of which are square. He was intrigued by my "controversial" design choice, though I hadn't noticed they were square in the store. Funny how lighting makes such a difference.

Also got a gift Visa from one of my sisters to go towards some slippers that I really, really want (yeah, I'm totally geeky getting that excited about slippers that I can put my orthotics in), as well as ten bucks from my grandma (who has also been paying for acupuncture and got my laptop screen fixed). My mom is learning that books get me really excited so she got a couple on my Amazon wishlist: The Hidden Gospel by Neil Douglas-Klotz and Setting a Trap for God by Rocco Errico. Both look at the Our Father in the Aramaic. I'm still waiting to get my gifts from my sister Tammy who spent the last several months traipsing around Europe.

A. got a couple of presents from my grandma too. Some gloves, a king-sized Kit Kat, and a long, juicy kiss on the lips. If you've ever seen So I Married an Axe-Murderer, it was a lot like that scene where Brenda Fricker snogs Mike Meyers' friend played by Anthony LaPaglia.

What can I say. My grandma is...er...affectionate.

I've spent Boxing Day sleeping. Didn't even get up until 4pm. Unplugged the phone last night, took lots of drugs, and conked out right after A. and I finished watching It's a Wonderful Life. Gotta hand it to Capra. He can even make a cynical Brit tear up. That cynical Brit made me a big Boxing Day breakfast today, with sausage and eggs mixed with salmon and parsley, potato cakes and sauteed mushrooms and zucchini (corgettes).

Though, he has no idea why Boxing Day is called Boxing Day.

Congo gets a bit of good news

Guardian Unlimited | Court orders Uganda to pay Congo damages

The UN High Court ruled that Uganda's invasion of Congo in 1998 was iillegal and caused enormous suffering. Therefore, Congo may seek damages against Uganda, and it's asking for up to $10 billion.

The Times is also reporting that initial approval of the Congolese Constitution appears likely. However, pardon me if I'm a bit cynical of its Bush-esque claim regarding the spread of democracy. Then again, what can you expect from a paper owned by Rupert Murdoch?

Stickin' it to the gringos

Guardian Unlimited | Triumph for Bolivia's candidate of poor

Morales won! See what happens when the State Department campaigns against you? ;)

The Times stated an amazing figure in its coverage of Morales' victory: fewer than 4,000 people control 80 per cent of all capital in Bolivia.

Wow.

"The place to eradicate coca is in the noses of those gringo sons of bitches!"

Independent Online Edition > Americas

Great feature on the Bolivian presidential election in the Indy. I laughed my ass off as I read:

During the 2002 vote, [the U.S.] warned they would withdraw all aid from the country if Mr Morales (leftist candidate) was elected, and that sent him surging in the polls.

Morales just barely lost then but is the strong front-runner in this election. And all his talk about nationalizing the hydro-carbon industry and decriminalizing the growing of coca leaf has Washington practically peeing its pants.

White House ire has led the State Department's new head of western hemisphere affairs to link him to narco-trafficking and accuse him of receiving cash and possibly arms from the hated Venezuelan left-wing leader Hugo Chavez.

::fake gasp of horror::

No! Not Hugo Chavez! He's probably got WMD's and was behind 9/11!

Wait. I better not give those neo-cons any ideas...

Count on Kramer

"You can't argue with the body, Jerry. That's an argument you can't win."

-- Cosmo Kramer from Seinfeld


Ah, Kramer. Always understands those simple, important things the rest of us have a harder time accepting...

Random roundup

I'm afraid I'm too groggy to string together a cohearant post as I'm on a lot of pain medication and antibiotics. Hell, half the time I can barely follow what my boyfriend is saying to me enough to respond intelligently. Believe or not, the doctor called me Monday to say that I'm infected with TWO separate bacteria requiring two separate antibiotics as each bacteria is resistant to the other's antibiotic. Macrodantin always makes me sleepy and amoxicillian leaves me gobsmacked exhausted -- though strangely enough, eliminates my neuropathic pain and therefore lets me actually get good sleep.

At any rate, here are a few stories I've been wanting to post but with much briefer commentaries than would otherwise accompany them.

First, more reflections on the CPTers being held hostage in Iraq from Mark LeVine at Ekklesia, Ryan Beiler at Sojourners, as well as a feature about them at Ekklesia.

Ekklesia also has a nice article about Muslims guarding churches in Indonesia where there has been anti-Christian violence.

AlterNet lists the fourteen worst corporate evildoers, including one about which I've written oh so fondly on this here blog. I suspect there are plenty more that could be added to the list. And if that corporate-bashing isn't enough for you, check out a great documentary called The Corporation.

Lastly, I have to pass along a comment my boyfriend made last night as we were watching Frontline. The episode was called "The Persuaders" and was about the advertising industry. One of the companies talked about how they didn't have interviews but auditions. They wanted people who believed in their product with cult-like adoration. So, I pointed out that Nike employees (used to?) get tatooed with the Nike swoosh.

"You're joking?!"

"Nope."

"Well, that's fine. When the revolution comes, they'll be easy to identify."

Welcome to our world

I'm watching the Newshour with a story about the Iranian president talking about the imminent return of the Mahdi before such hardcore Shia audiences as the UN general assembly. Reformists in Iran are horrified that this is the view of Iran the world is seeing, and all I keep thinking is that this is what we on the Left in the U.S. have been feeling about our country and president for the last five years.

******

Oh, and I knew it was just a matter of time. Found out today that back pain and extra fatigue I've had for the last couple of days was indeed a UTI.

Swell.

On to the cystoscopy and biopsy...

Oh my gawd, they killed Congo! You bastards!

I've decided that Congo is the Kenny of the world's countries.

I mean, I've already talked a bit about how something like 1000 people are dying a day from war and associated sufferings. A few weeks back I'm watching NOVA and hear about how there was a volcanic eruption in Congo in 2002 (did you hear about that? I don't remember hearing about it), and apparently Goma is right on top of a huge volcano.

And now this.

Seriously. It's like they've got Death chasing it around.

Of course, obviously I'd hope we'd all do a bit more about the Congo than Stan and Kyle do about Kenny...

It's pope week on TV

As you may recall, I broke down and got cable last week. Just in time to see two of the most banal biopics on the late Pope John Paul II. Both of them I managed to stumble upon in the middle while flipping through channels I'm not used to having. Both intrigued me about how our former Holy Father would be portrayed.

Now, I sorta expected hagiography, and they both were that. The first one, "Have No Fear: The life of John Paul II," on ABC portrays Karol Wotija as a mystical saint with his trusty, befuddled sidekick, Father Stanislaw. Doug Elfman of the Chicago Sun-Times gives this one "a big hearty zero, a zero of absolute zero-ocity, a zero's zero. I think I could have written a better script during the two hours it took me to watch "Have No Fear." I think you could, too, and I don't even know you." He aptly describes it "a stack of View-Master slides musically set to sad-sack orchestral weeping." After an hour or so I just couldn't take the rasping melodrama of Thomas Kretschmann and finally flipped over to something else. Though, the one aspect that I thought was interesting was John Paul's interaction with Archbishop Oscar Romero. The pope angrily tells Romero that he needs to abandon liberation theology. Romero weeps, kisses his hands and leaves to go on to his death. The next scene has John Paul tearfully begging the Holy Mother for forgiveness for the way he treated Romero. Does beg the question of who the bigger saint is.

The second was "John Paul II" tonight on CBS. Sauntered over after watching Desperate Housewives for the first time (kinda confusing in parts) to see someone who I sorta recognized but couldn't quite figure out who. By golly, it was Carey Elwes -- you know, Westley from the Princess Bride. He's got a rounder face than I remembered and takes awhile to find a decent Polish accent. His Karol Wotija is a fun uncle who goes canoing and talks about sex and comes up with clever ways to outwit the Communists. While this movie has more flow than the former, it pretty much seems to hit on all the same moments. It continues on Wednesday with Jon Voigt playing the older version of John Paul.

But, I think I've had enough pedestrian papal profiles for one week.

My gawd we're becoming Syria!

My godfather and I often joke about how Stalin-esque Syria can be. Say the wrong thing, and you could end up missing for a very long time.

But, you know, it's different here in America. We parody the president on Saturday Night Live. Excoriate him on the pages of the New York Times (though, now ya gotta pay if you want to read said excoriation). We've got the Bill of Rights and Miranda rights and lots of lawyers to make sure they're enforced.

Yet, God help you if you happen to have the wrong name and it gets in the hands of the CIA. This article from the Washington Post recounts the chilling story of Khaled Masri, a German citizen who decides to take a little holiday to Macedonia and ends up in some shit hole in Afghanistan. Once the CIA realizes it has the wrong guy, they figured they'll just dump him back in Macedonia.

At the CIA, the question was: Now what? Some officials wanted to go directly to the German government; others did not. Someone suggested a reverse rendition: Return Masri to Macedonia and release him. "There wouldn't be a trace. No airplane tickets. Nothing. No one would believe him," one former official said. "There would be a bump in the press, but then it would be over."

Lordy. Makes the X-Files feel like Dateline.

Masri can find few words to explain his ordeal. "I have very bad feelings" about the United States, he said. "I think it's just like in the Arab countries: arresting people, treating them inhumanly and less than that, and with no rights and no laws."

Okay, so have we taken on the role of recruiting for al-Qa'ida ourselves? Have we just decided that Osama bin-Laden is not doing a good enough job and needs the vast resources of the U.S. government to wage holy war?

To say I'm disturbed by this is an understatement. To point out the irony that we're fighting for human rights and abusing them simultaneously would be unnecessary. I think this quote underscores the level of inhumanity we have reduced ourselves:

"The Skopje station really wanted a scalp because everyone wanted a part of the game," a CIA officer said.

Scalp. Game. The image that comes to my mind is of those old pictures of men in suits and derby hats on top of trains shooting buffalo and letting them rot on the prairies until they were nearly extinct. Or worse, the practice of scalping that we introduced to the Native Americans. The only good Indian is a dead Indian with "Muslim" now relaplacing "Indian."

But as a nation, we haven't even repented of that genocide, so should it seem at all strange that we would do to Khaled Masri and all the others we've "renditioned" what we have done?

And how long will it be until a couple of guys dressed in black show up at our doors and "rendition" us? Do we just think we're safe because our name is Jones, or Smith, or Thompson?

And even if we are safe for the moment, should we let them kidnap someone named Mohammad, Ahmed or Abdullah, drug him, give him an enema, put him in a diaper and fly him off to some "black site" prison in Eastern Europe, the Middle East or Afghanistan?

My brain sucks

Hmm...that meditation is not helping my cognitive skills.

I show up at the doctor's office today at 11:40, pleased that I still managed to be five minutes early even after stopping at the bank to buy some quarters (usually I'm five-ten minutes late but my boyfriend has been trying to remedy my "tardiness" as he says with his stern British accent and, well, it seems to been working).

But, you know, pride goes before destruction and all that.

When I check in, the woman hunts for my name on the screen and finally finds it. "Your appointment was at 11 am."

But...but...I wrote down 11:45 on my calander. And...and...I could have sworn that the reminder call yesterday said 11:45...and...and...

Thankfully, my nurse practioner was still able to see me. In fact, her nurse said that they were a bit worried when I didn't show up because I always show up or call.

When I got home this afternoon I looked at my calandar.

"Friday, December 2: 11:00 FNP appt."

Gawd.

I mean, really. What the hell is wrong with me? I never used to be this bad. I'm taking that damn Ginko Biloba -- 120mg twice a day. I'm doing the damn meditation. What the hell is up?

Oh, but wait! It gets worse.

I go to the post office to pick up my mail as well close my post office box now that I have what should be a stable address. I get my mail. I sort through it and chuck all the junk mail into the recycle bin. I walk outside to go to the other side of the building where Will Call is. Except somewhere between walking outside and turning the corner, I totally forget to go to Will Call and just keep walking. Arduously. In the freezing rain mixed with snow. Uphill. My left hand squeezed into a splint (I seem to have sprained it during the move) with a tenuous grip on my cane handle. I get to where the streetcar stop is. I stand there for a bit, exhausted and wishing there was someplace dry to sit. And then it finally dawns on me that I freekin' forgot to go close my post office box, which was the main reason I went to the post office in the first place!

ARRRRRGGGGHHH!

And my rhuematologist, in her esteemed opinion, says I don't have any neurological symptoms?!

I mean, my godfather has Multiple Sclerosis -- freeking lesions on his brain -- and he's still reading Foucault and Weber and Marx and writing a dissertation and teaching community college kids about political theory. And shows up to class and his doctors appointments -- far few than I have -- at their correct times.

Sigh.

Though, to be fair, he has a lot of the same problems with memory and concentration. He's even forgotten to show up to meetings or to proctor an exam. But, he's got lesions on his brain to explain his. What's wrong my sans-lesions brain?