Nobody gets by except by me.
Associate with chickens; scratch in the dirt and fight over crumbs. (Andrews, "The Traveler's Gift")
Soar with Eagles; get a bird's EYE View. See how the land LIES. About the Iranian election; we know how O got the nomination; "Where are our votes?" has a too familiar ring! But, as advised by bots, we got over it. I am truly THERE. Ruminating on it keeps me focused. I am on the earth to serve. I cannot change the past, but I can see the way to the future, with faith in myself and the collective divinity of those who arrive ready to change things up wisely.
Some techniques are effective. Find those.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Working Through Mob Mysogny
la Madrina (the Godmother), The Antimafia (Palgrave), "In the Mafia, power rests on the actual execution of violence."
Certainly Mafia women have proved to be no wallflowers in the world of violence. "Instead of leading the tide of righteous citizens against crime, women turned out to be even more entrenched in Mafia values than men," Clare Longrigg wrote in Mafia Women...
Leading the tide of righteous citizens against crime, then, must unify us in our mission. This is what makes women a pain to deal with, yet we are poised to tilt the balance of our power toward this very quality in women. Our gender is uniquely empowered to reason and temper the progression of ideas. Our survival instincts, our natural endurance and our concern for the preservation of our childrens' security distinguish our abilities to recognize, approach and master challenges to our ideals. Our desire to "stay pretty" while being hit with the best shots, drives our alternative universe colonialism.
We're getting there. Learning to dance, develop as we stretch, coreograph and set our gestures to music, we acquire both strength and flexibility. Our audience will get our best out of us. Play to them. Non-Violent in our tactics, responses and emotions, we accept each day's work as logged with the utmost faith that we will achieve our goals in the fullness of time. Enjoy and make the most of the journey and the dedicated spirits who accompany us.
Let us respect each other. We grow healthy when we value our differences along with our common interests.
Certainly Mafia women have proved to be no wallflowers in the world of violence. "Instead of leading the tide of righteous citizens against crime, women turned out to be even more entrenched in Mafia values than men," Clare Longrigg wrote in Mafia Women...
Leading the tide of righteous citizens against crime, then, must unify us in our mission. This is what makes women a pain to deal with, yet we are poised to tilt the balance of our power toward this very quality in women. Our gender is uniquely empowered to reason and temper the progression of ideas. Our survival instincts, our natural endurance and our concern for the preservation of our childrens' security distinguish our abilities to recognize, approach and master challenges to our ideals. Our desire to "stay pretty" while being hit with the best shots, drives our alternative universe colonialism.
We're getting there. Learning to dance, develop as we stretch, coreograph and set our gestures to music, we acquire both strength and flexibility. Our audience will get our best out of us. Play to them. Non-Violent in our tactics, responses and emotions, we accept each day's work as logged with the utmost faith that we will achieve our goals in the fullness of time. Enjoy and make the most of the journey and the dedicated spirits who accompany us.
Let us respect each other. We grow healthy when we value our differences along with our common interests.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Scrutinize "da ROOLZ"
This blog was created just after the R&BL Committee cheated 18 million democrats of their votes. initiated during the Primaries. After Party Unity My Ass had been declared, bona-fide leaders held onto their sanity and found support at the Just Say No Deal Coalition. There I came to hear the tales of HRC supporters who were banished from the Daily Koz, Huffington Post and such by the Overbearing Obots as the Cheeto-chomping crazies blogging in their parents' basement came to be called.
Though I had things to say, survival instincts kept my head down, my profile low and my posts carefully-worded. Lurking and occasionally commenting helped me discern the balancing forces that lend blogger credibility.
Knowing that Power hates a vacuum and that the Fourth Estate's duty is to observe and report objectively, I put most of my energy into remaining at arms length from those suicidal news organs willing to take Obama's money - however egregiously raised - to pay their bills.
Great fortunes were built during the Great Depression. Auctions sell properties foreclosed upon to investors willing to grab a bargain born of another's misfortune or bad business decisions. So, when the bailout bonanza got underway, my mind was too conditioned to seeing the Bushies skate the rules by grabbing cover from the W admin to think it was CHANGE. Bush cut a deal with 'the chosen one' to make room at the trough and keep the invitation list tight if the freshman Senator would play ball. la Bama knows a convenience when he sees one, and added just another insider's chip to his purse.
Alas: those of you who worked all your life to prepare and position yourselves to make the most of the opportunity created by Lehman Brothers' demise were chanelled to oblivion, permitting the playas to feast unfettered. Take heart: it ain't over til it's ovah.
Though I had things to say, survival instincts kept my head down, my profile low and my posts carefully-worded. Lurking and occasionally commenting helped me discern the balancing forces that lend blogger credibility.
Knowing that Power hates a vacuum and that the Fourth Estate's duty is to observe and report objectively, I put most of my energy into remaining at arms length from those suicidal news organs willing to take Obama's money - however egregiously raised - to pay their bills.
Great fortunes were built during the Great Depression. Auctions sell properties foreclosed upon to investors willing to grab a bargain born of another's misfortune or bad business decisions. So, when the bailout bonanza got underway, my mind was too conditioned to seeing the Bushies skate the rules by grabbing cover from the W admin to think it was CHANGE. Bush cut a deal with 'the chosen one' to make room at the trough and keep the invitation list tight if the freshman Senator would play ball. la Bama knows a convenience when he sees one, and added just another insider's chip to his purse.
Alas: those of you who worked all your life to prepare and position yourselves to make the most of the opportunity created by Lehman Brothers' demise were chanelled to oblivion, permitting the playas to feast unfettered. Take heart: it ain't over til it's ovah.
KEEP TO THE CODE
Recently, my county chairmen (previous 3) took a petty complaint to my State Committee in an effort to unseat me. Accusing me of campaigning for John McCain, they used an email I sent in response to an invitation to express views on the way women were treated during the 2008 campaign. My comments revolved strictly around the responsibility women must assert in order to curtail the level of misogynistic attacks sustained by Palin and before her, Clinton. Resisting such outrageous slander by rejecting it is every reasonable person's duty. Seated at last Fall's County Committee fundraiser dinner with fellow dems who were honoring an elderly committee woman, I heard nothing but degrading comments about Sara Palin that shocked me. Remarks of this nature can be expected from marginal activists, but effective leadership is borne of respect for the opposition.
Sara's story isn't over. Each dismissive, ugly word expressed in contempt of her just adds to her aura. The Palin-Basher, not Sara, is diminished by such inappropriate comment.
I once organized a skate race that began in Athens, Georgia and ended at Piedmont Park in Atlanta, 86 miles away. When I trained to participate in the skate, I was shown how males are intimidated by even the prospect of losing to a distaff competitor. Pompous assertions like: 'No Girl's Gonna Beat ME!" were routine. I held my comment and bit my tongue then doubled down on my training. I had set a goal for myself and was prepared to do all it took to complete the course. For me, the Clock, not the other skaters, was the focus. I wanted to arrive in Mid Town in under eight hours. The event was a fundraiser for the Leukemia Society. Participants covered the miles pledged to raise funds. Only the testosterone-driven guys were making it a race. I never saw them give up the beer, smoke or junk food to prepare themselves for their effort.
My 'friends' who dated other skaters were unable to say anything supportive to me because their "boyfriends" were so vile and intimidating in their rejection of my leadership. But I got up before dawn every Sunday morning and skated the 17 miles to Stone Mountain. This commitment spared me the humiliation of being insulted by those fellow trainees who spent Saturday nights on the bar stool. My "Companion" was the headset that tuned me into Kasey Kasem's top 20 countdown of pop music hits. Kasey offered encouragement and amusing commentary between the week's favored requests. I laced on my skates, tapped into the headphones and logged on the miles week after week. By the end of the summer, a training associate had joined me and we shared the road work. Just do it.
That colleague finished 5th, though he had dropped out at 55 miles the previous year. We called each other "Coach." I finished 4th. We didn't "talk about it." We did it.
Mental toughness proved to be the number one requirement for weathering the criticsm. I spent many hours processing away the pain and embarassment of the things said about and to me. But at Wednesday night Buckhead Bar Rolls, I could drive up any hill and pass virtually any of those who were taunting me. By summer's end, I had logged more than ten training miles for each mile I was committed to skate. My view of those who were tormenting me became elevated. If I didn't go around their "social" outings at which they preened and postured for attention, I neither triggered no experieced their Touretts. On the other hand, the hottest skaters, ten years my junior, sought me out because I was one of the few who could keep up with them. I discovered this comforting truth:
LIONS PLAY WITH LIONS.
No mother fears for her young while they play with their peers. But the "mothers" in those guys freaked out at the sight of something they saw in me: A Better Way.
Hillary Clinton, I submit, was OVERQUALIFIED for the presidency. How many women suffer not being hired for that reason? She's now doing serious work diplomatically.
In Pirates of the Caribbean, shipmates came aboard, pledged to return the Black Pearl to Captain Jack Sparrow, who had lost his boat to the mutinous crew now cursed by the Pearl's stolen treasure. Each knew the CODE; "Every Man for Himself. If any mate falls behind, go on without him." They skirted their moral duties to their mates by proclaiming; "Keep to the Code."
With a "knowing" nod, winners keep faith in their sporting colleagues. If you'd done the course, you earned the grade. Sure, some of the hackers who dogged their work-outs will try to "bamboozle" you into letting them get away with their hollow threats, but those of us who've done the work know each other and recognize the posers. Thus we recognized the Obama Illusion. "Not this time." might have convinced the newly-minted voters for change. But, like any responsible business person, I wasn't buying it. "See me next year, if you're still in business." There's a four year cycle that tests, proves and delivers the performers. I won't make such important decisions and hand over my country to somebody who might just be 'having a good year.' I want to see that my leaders can weather discouragement, rise from their own failures and re-invent themselves following valuable lessons learned. In my educated-by-experience view, Hillary Clinton had certainly done that, bHO had not.
Oh, and the shot of Michelle glaring at Carla Bruni? ... I guess that's why the petulant Mrs O refused to dine with the French President that evening. She meant to snub the First Lady. That she maneuvered a Family dinner in Paris - her own President safely snatched from the aura of Sarkozy's wife - said it all.
Sara's story isn't over. Each dismissive, ugly word expressed in contempt of her just adds to her aura. The Palin-Basher, not Sara, is diminished by such inappropriate comment.
I once organized a skate race that began in Athens, Georgia and ended at Piedmont Park in Atlanta, 86 miles away. When I trained to participate in the skate, I was shown how males are intimidated by even the prospect of losing to a distaff competitor. Pompous assertions like: 'No Girl's Gonna Beat ME!" were routine. I held my comment and bit my tongue then doubled down on my training. I had set a goal for myself and was prepared to do all it took to complete the course. For me, the Clock, not the other skaters, was the focus. I wanted to arrive in Mid Town in under eight hours. The event was a fundraiser for the Leukemia Society. Participants covered the miles pledged to raise funds. Only the testosterone-driven guys were making it a race. I never saw them give up the beer, smoke or junk food to prepare themselves for their effort.
My 'friends' who dated other skaters were unable to say anything supportive to me because their "boyfriends" were so vile and intimidating in their rejection of my leadership. But I got up before dawn every Sunday morning and skated the 17 miles to Stone Mountain. This commitment spared me the humiliation of being insulted by those fellow trainees who spent Saturday nights on the bar stool. My "Companion" was the headset that tuned me into Kasey Kasem's top 20 countdown of pop music hits. Kasey offered encouragement and amusing commentary between the week's favored requests. I laced on my skates, tapped into the headphones and logged on the miles week after week. By the end of the summer, a training associate had joined me and we shared the road work. Just do it.
That colleague finished 5th, though he had dropped out at 55 miles the previous year. We called each other "Coach." I finished 4th. We didn't "talk about it." We did it.
Mental toughness proved to be the number one requirement for weathering the criticsm. I spent many hours processing away the pain and embarassment of the things said about and to me. But at Wednesday night Buckhead Bar Rolls, I could drive up any hill and pass virtually any of those who were taunting me. By summer's end, I had logged more than ten training miles for each mile I was committed to skate. My view of those who were tormenting me became elevated. If I didn't go around their "social" outings at which they preened and postured for attention, I neither triggered no experieced their Touretts. On the other hand, the hottest skaters, ten years my junior, sought me out because I was one of the few who could keep up with them. I discovered this comforting truth:
LIONS PLAY WITH LIONS.
No mother fears for her young while they play with their peers. But the "mothers" in those guys freaked out at the sight of something they saw in me: A Better Way.
Hillary Clinton, I submit, was OVERQUALIFIED for the presidency. How many women suffer not being hired for that reason? She's now doing serious work diplomatically.
In Pirates of the Caribbean, shipmates came aboard, pledged to return the Black Pearl to Captain Jack Sparrow, who had lost his boat to the mutinous crew now cursed by the Pearl's stolen treasure. Each knew the CODE; "Every Man for Himself. If any mate falls behind, go on without him." They skirted their moral duties to their mates by proclaiming; "Keep to the Code."
With a "knowing" nod, winners keep faith in their sporting colleagues. If you'd done the course, you earned the grade. Sure, some of the hackers who dogged their work-outs will try to "bamboozle" you into letting them get away with their hollow threats, but those of us who've done the work know each other and recognize the posers. Thus we recognized the Obama Illusion. "Not this time." might have convinced the newly-minted voters for change. But, like any responsible business person, I wasn't buying it. "See me next year, if you're still in business." There's a four year cycle that tests, proves and delivers the performers. I won't make such important decisions and hand over my country to somebody who might just be 'having a good year.' I want to see that my leaders can weather discouragement, rise from their own failures and re-invent themselves following valuable lessons learned. In my educated-by-experience view, Hillary Clinton had certainly done that, bHO had not.
Oh, and the shot of Michelle glaring at Carla Bruni? ... I guess that's why the petulant Mrs O refused to dine with the French President that evening. She meant to snub the First Lady. That she maneuvered a Family dinner in Paris - her own President safely snatched from the aura of Sarkozy's wife - said it all.
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