Choosing sides

My last post regarding the conflicts between the Israelis and Palestinians, as with probably most posts out in the blogosphere, has met with various comments, people choosing sides, staking their claims, sharing their opinions.

At this point in time, I think it would be particularly difficult to choose a side. Both sides are irritating me to no end. For me, the choice is clear: I'm worried about Lebanon. I know all the arguments. Hezbollah are terrorists. The Lebanese allowed them to inhabit their country, and blah blah blah, and so on. But in the end, I highly doubt Hezbollah gives a rat's ass that Lebanon is getting torn about because of them. And I highly doubt that Israel gives a damn that they are destroying Lebanon to achieve their end.

Lebanon has gone to great lengths to rebuild itself since the 1991 Gulf War. Things were relatively back to normal for them, save a few issues with Syria and those sorts of things that cannot be avoided in such a nation. But now their country is getting torn apart again, but an unresolvable conflict between two nations that just don't care if they destroy the world with their petty squabbling. Yes, I said petty. I personally don't care who gets to live in Jerusalem. If I had my way, we'd evacuate everyone from the whole damn area and just level it, turn it into a pit. But of course, these Hatfields and McCoys would just keep on fighting.

I doubt that the Israeli or Palestinian people want this war to continue. I'm sure it is all planned, executed, and tended to by their governments. Sure, Israeli parents want their abducted children back, and Palestinian parents want their imprisoned children back. But the cost is proving too high, too many sons and daughters are being lost forever in the struggle.

So I don't take sides. I just hope the conflict can somehow, some way, be resolved, for the good of all.

You gotta hand it to the Dutch

Despite the recent row over Ayaan Hirsi Ali's citizenship, the Dutch are continuing to break new ground in the annals of freedom and democracy. A judge has ruled that the Brotherly Love, Freedom, and Diversity Party (PNVD) has the right to exist, despite much controversy surrounding the group, which seeks to lower the age of consent from 16 to 12. The three members of the party are known to be pedophiles, although the judge claims they have not committed any crimes.

"Freedom of expression...including the freedom to set up a political party can be seen as the basis for a democratic society," Judge Hofhuis said in the ruling, according to the Associated Press news agency.

"It is the right of the voter to judge the appeal of political parties," he said.

I suppose he has a point, but I can't imagine there will be too much support for a party that wants to legalize child pornography and sex with animals.

The PNVD - which has only three known members - says its aim is to break taboos and fight intolerance.

It says it wants paedophilia to be freely discussed, arguing that a ban just makes children curious.

Yea, whatever. I hardly think a 12-year-old is mature enough to have sex with someone their own age, let alone an adult.

They also want to break the "negative" stigma surrounding paedophilia by getting into parliament.

But the PNVD says it is not just a one-issue party.

It also wants children from the age of 12 to be able to vote. It promotes the legalisation of hard and soft drugs and free train travel for all.

Well, again, I don't think a 12-year-old is mature enough to vote. Does a 12-year-old really care about voting? Free train travel for all isn't such a bad thing, though. I guess true freedom should allow parties like this to exist, but will the people let them prevail? I highly doubt it.

So much for good intentions

My plan to get prepared for the elevator to shut down has been foiled. On the regular inspection on Friday the old, tired elevator was declared unsafe, and so it was shut down and locked. It isn't surprising really, since the elevator is older than God. Older than Zeus. Older than the Titans, even. So basically, I've spent the last three days climbing stairs.

It isn't a terribly big deal, but going up the stairs laden with shopping has already grown a bit tiresome. Thank god my husband makes a terrific beast of burden. Still, the plans are still in play for us not to have a working elevator until the end of September, so I suspect it will grow even more tiresome indeed. Though in the end, I'd rather have a heart attack climbing six flights of stairs than plunging to my death from the sixth floor. At least with a heart attack I might have a fighting chance of living, whereas falling to the ground with the force of gravity in a tiny wooden box would pretty much leave me a tangled mess of people goo.

Besides, I'm looking at the bright side. Maybe I'll be able to climb my way to perkier buttocks.

Peculiarities

The longer you know someone, the more you learn about their peculiar quirks and habits. Being married to someone makes this a lot easier, and my husband and I are no strangers to discovering one another's oddities. From my propensity to call people "bitch" and his vitriolic hatred of capri pants, we've learned to love each other despite these totally irrational, psychotic sides of ourselves.

My husband and I share an extreme dislike of most vegetables, so it was no surprise when we both turned up our noses at the broccoli and carrots that made their way onto my husband's plate when we ate out last night. As we enjoyed our meal despite the close proximity of the devil vegetables, I noticed my husband cutting the fat off his steak. Not so unusual, really, most of us don't like the fatty parts of our meat. But my husband was taking it one step further - he was cutting off little pieces of fat and burying them underneath the broccoli. By the time I realized this, there was a virtual minefield of tiny pieces of fat beneath the vegetables, and while I found this behavior giggle-worthy, my husband didn't seem to think there was anything odd about it at all. I can only imagine what the waitress/dishwasher/whoever must have thought when they started dumping the plate and saw all this fat emerge from the broccoli.

The thing is, with each peculiarity, no matter how peculiar, I've discovered that it only leads to loving my husband more. Thank goodness, because we have a lifetime of peculiarities ahead of us.

Maybe we should have paid more attention

I'm glad the U.S. has been so concerned about Iran and North Korea. So glad, in fact, that the Israeli/Palestinian battle had time to blow up in everyone's faces while everyone was working on what to do about the two evil axis empires and their need/desire to have nuclear weapons.

Honestly, the Isreali/Palestinian issue is one for which I have no real solution. Both lay claim to the same areas, both seem to hate each other with a passion, and both seem to not really care what kind of mess they leave behind. If you want to get down to brass tacks, I'd say the Israelis technically have more right to be there than the Palestinians, if you want to go by ancient history. But I don't think that works for the Palestinians, who apparently gave up their right to a nice chunk o' country after WWII because, by Allah, they want Jerusalem, or a piece of it, at least.

The Greeks are obviously quite worried about the whole situation down there, and have a plane ready to go if the need to extract Greeks and other Europeans from the area arises. A government spokesman said "Unless the prevailing uncontrollable situation is tamed, it may lead to a wider flare-up in the Middle East", which basically means "watch your shit, if nukes start going off and the wind is blowing the wrong way, that fallout is going to land over here".

Somebody better start bombing the area with Alice B. Toklas brownies, or something.

Dreaming is free, right?

A house of dreams, of fairytales, of legends in the French countryside. If it was next to Johnny Depp's house, I might sell my soul to buy it, even though he is quite happily married with a lovely family (not to mention so am I, sans the family part). The photos are quite charming. I'll be quite happy to pretend, for a moment, that it was possible to make such a purchase, and then I'll come back to my harsh reality of life in Greece.

Wait a minute, that isn't so bad, either.

I guess I better get in shape

Finally, our building is getting a new elevator. Which is a bit sad in a way, because I've grown kinda fond of the old one with all its quirks and curiosities. They are going all out on the new one - new everything, from the cables, the elevator, all the doors, everything. It should be nice, although I'll be loathe to be one of the first people to try it out. What if they don't screw everything in correctly?

The 13k euros is being divided by all the owners of the apartments in the building, scaled in the same way they do monthly maintenance (ie. for elevator expenses, you pay more the higher your floor). Being on the 6th floor ours is a sizeable chunk, but it will be worth it. The money is due on Sept. 1st, and the new elevator construction will begin sometime after that. The building manager said it would take 20 days to get the new elevator installed, and she didn't know if that meant 20 days without a working elevator or it would take them 20 days to build all the parts and come and install them.

At any rate, I know there will be at the very least a few days without any elevator. This will be especially fun with groceries or heavy packages. I'm strongly contemplating not leaving the apartment for the duration, but I'd go stir crazy. How hard is going up six flights of stairs anyway?* I've got six weeks to get ready for it. I'll let you know.


*For the record, I've only gone up the stairs once, and it wasn't easy. Yea, I'm not in good shape, but I could do worse. At least I made it, my husband thought I'd call the elevator by the second floor. Still, seeing how my 40-year-old friend was able to leap up the stairs in a single bound several times while he was here, I'd better get cracking.

I have no response to this

A farmer in Russia sent Vladimir Putin an email requesting permission to marry his cow. Apparently, there are no women left in his Siberian village and he is a real animal lover, an animal lover who wants to know when it will be legal in Russia to marry domestic animals.

I suppose he could do worse. At least his new bride can offer him a lifetime supply of milk and when death does them part, she can provide him with plenty of beef.

It is always better to think before you act

I hate mosquitos. Nashville had some annoying mosquitos, but they are much, MUCH more aggressive here in Greece, especially here in Thessaloniki. I never thought there could be so many mosquitos in a city center, but I guess our proximity to the water makes it possible.

Sunday night we decided to enjoy the World Cup at a coffee shop on Aristotelous Square. As the evening wore on, we were attacked by more and more mosquitos. One landed on the table in front of me, and without thinking about the fact that certainly she just finished sucking the lifeblood of some unsuspecting human nearby (possibly me or my husband), I shouted "DIE BITCH!!" and squashed her good and hard with my hand.

I looked at the puddle of blood on the table and the stains on my hand and my husband said "yea, you really shouldn't do that". At least I had my handy antibacterial wipes so I could clean up the mess.

Even so, I don't regret it. I got a great deal of pleasure knowing I struck that blood sucking vixen dead. Maybe some of her friends were watching, and will tell fellow mosquitos to stay the hell away from me.

Funny headlines

This just made me laugh. Because headbutt should be one word, ya know? Otherwise, he has a head in his butt.

Only the good die young

A man who influenced many great musicians has died at the young age of 60. Syd Barrett, Pink Floyd's inaugural guitarist, helped shape the birth of the band with a quite different musical style than the Floyd we know today. I admire David Gilmore, but Barrett was a unique character in the world of music. I may have to dig out my vinyl collection in tribute.

Shine on you crazy diamond, shine on.

Little by little, America goes tumbling down

Sappho has some eye-opening on the scene pictures and commentary of police brutality during an Anti-Minuteman protest in L.A.

More proof of the erosion of America, bit by bit, layer by layer. Small enough pieces so only a few people see it happening - until the American people wake up and find a brave new world.

Yes, I probably exaggerate a bit, but I am shocked and saddened by the stories I read here and there of the rise of hatred, the loss of rights, and the breaking of human spirit. America was built to be better than this, and many Americans are better than this.

It is always sad when it's over

Well, the World Cup is over. This was my first World Cup, and I have to say I enjoyed it. It seems there were a lot of games that went into penalty shots, and those were particularly thrilling. And by god, I had no idea soccer had so much drama. From the tears, the dropping to the ground to force penalties, faked injuries, yelling, shirt pulling, tripping, and in the end, headbutting, it was just as good as any television melodrama.

Congrats to Italy, although I have to wonder how satisfying it is to win the World Cup on penalty shots. In the end it seems that both teams played equally well, so both really won. But the competitor in me would always feel a bit empty if my team won on penalties, as exciting as they are.

My deepest thanks goes to French player Zinedine Zidane, who proved to me that even adults who aren't involved in the World Wrestling Federation headbutt one another when they get mad. I haven't seen a good headbutt since the 4th grade. Still, I'd really like to know what Materazzi said to him. It must have been some insult.

Arrevederci, World Cup. Until 2010!

Summer is for vegetables

Even though my husband and I pretend to be adults, neither of us is too fond of vegetables. Sure, we'll eat salads happily, but most cooked veggies go to the wayside. But both of us die for this cool summer salad, we can eat it nonstop. The recipe has been in my family for ages, so I'm not real sure where it came from. Here it is, for the culinary and the curious.

TOMATO, CUCUMBER, & ONION SALAD

1 medium onion
2 medium tomatoes
1 small cucumber
1 cup sour cream (I use 200 gr. yogurt)
2 tsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt

Slice onion into thin slices. Soak in water 10 minutes. Dice tomatoes, pare cucumbers. Cut into thin slices and in half. Add vinegar, salt, and sugar to sour cream. Mix in vegetables and set aside 1 hour in refrigerator. Serves 4. Recipe may be doubled for more servings.

New words for a new world

It is that time again - when Merriam-Webster publishes the latest edition of their collegiate dictionary. And a new edition means new words - about a hundred this year - and new words means slang these days, apparently.

According to an article on CNN.com, some of the new words that made the latest edition are:
google, drama queen, empty suit, himbo, bling, unibrow, soul patch, and biodiesel. With over a half million words in the English language, I guess we have hit our peak. There is nothing left now but to ride the crest downwards, as it slowly takes us back to shore.

Personally, I'd like to see new words that actually mean something. While I appreciate the influx of new words that are related to international, common culture (like the use of google as a verb), I'd still like to see a few more interesting words enter the lexicon - words that aren't just brand names or slang. Words like bumbalingus - a term my husband and I invented for an instant itch that must be scratched at all costs. Why aren't dictionaries adding words like that?

I guess for now, I should stop being such a drama queen and google a few sites that might have some clever new words. But someday, the English language will ride that wave again.

Stupid European recipes

For the love of all that is good and holy, can someone definitively tell me what 250 grams of Bisquick is in cups? That is, taking into account the whole weight to volume measuring debacle.

I just can't figure it out. And I'm not up for weighing ingredients for recipes.

Cheesecake: The Recipe

If you only make one recipe this summer - let it be cheesecake. The crust recipe is a generic one, the cheesecake recipe came from The Tennessean about fifteen years ago.

CRUST:

1 1/2 cups graham cracker (or similar type cookie) crumbs
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
6 tablespoons (I use 125 grams) butter

Preheat oven to 350° (180°C). Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl. Press into bottom and sides of a 9-inch pie plate. Bake until set and golden, about 8 minutes. Cool completely on a wire rack.

This crust can be kept refrigerated, covered in saran wrap or in a container, for up to 3 days.

CHEESECAKE:

2 (8 ounce - I get 2 300 gram packages) packages cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs

Mix cream cheese, sugar and vanilla at medium speed with electric mixer until well blended. Add eggs, mix until blended. Pour into crust. Bake at 350°(180°) 40 minutes or until center is almost set. Cool. Refrigerate 3 hours or overnight.

If you want Chocolate Chip Cheesecake, use 3/4 cup mini chocolate chips. Stir in half the chocolate chips after the eggs, then put the rest on top of the cheesecake.

The king and queen of complicated

My husband and I seem to be really talented at making what should be the simplest thing complicated. Case in point: our recent experience with installing a wireless network.

For a couple of years now, we have been using our laptop as the “server” for logging into the internet. While we had been discussing upgrading to a wireless network for some time, the prospect was less than desirable (read: we are lazy, lazy people). The laptop (a Dell Inspiron) has been the bane of my existence ever since I bought it four years ago. The other day, it started having problems again and so we finally decided to bite the bullet and go wireless.

Off we trot to THE computer store here in Greece (Plaisio). My husband explains exactly what we need and we come home with the wireless router and two wireless cards for the computers. We weren’t about to mess with it that evening, and when I looked over our purchases the next day, I realized our crappy ADSL modem would not work with the router, because our modem connects via a USB cable. So off we go again to the computer store to buy a new modem. We got home, had some dinner, and we were going to put off the installation until today. However, my husband, in his eternal, unwavering brilliance, remembered how quickly he had installed the wireless network at his parents and figured with a half hour until the France/Portugal game there was plenty of time to install and get finished in time to watch the game.

Yeah, right.

We followed the instructions as to installing software before we added the new hardware. We made sure the ADSL light was set on the modem. And we proceeded to setup the wireless router.

But it wouldn’t cooperate. Oh no. It seemed to require knowledge of quantum physics and rocket science, not to mention the ability to bend time. So we figured maybe we should configure the internet connection through the modem first, even though we wouldn’t be using it that way. That refused to work as well. My husband and I tried all kinds of things, back and forth between the modem and the router. By the time the France/Portugal match was over, my husband and I were both seething, the room had filled with a dark brown smoke, portals were opening to unknown universes and an acidic, green rain had begun to fall. I was fairly certain Armageddon was upon us.

Suddenly, in my last gasp of perspicacity, I discovered that there was a manual for the router on the CD. A whole manual. A manual from which we could follow very explicit instructions that actually made slightly more sense than the largely ambiguous and ill-named “Quick Start Guide”. To our amazement, we were able to follow the instructions with great success. We had a wireless network, we could access all the computers, but our internet connection betrayed itself by not connecting. And not connecting. And not connecting.

We eventually decided to go to bed and deal with it later on – the worst of it was over, at least. Yet, about 3am I had an epiphany – I remembered our login name wasn’t what it used to be, and tried it, and sure enough, I was right. Success! 6 hours after starting a project that should have taken 30 minutes we were done. True to form, we had turned something simple into a frustrating, onerous task.

Now we are basking in our wireless success, happy, fulfilled, and soon to forget the nightmare that was “Wireless Network Configuration 2006”. Until the next time we need to upgrade our computers, all should be right with the world. Maybe.

Happy Independence Day

Last year I made a rather melancholy post about the fourth of July and America. I was hoping by this time this year things might have changed for the better. Well, they haven't, in fact, things might even be a little worse.

Here and there, bits and pieces of the bill of rights have been chipped away. From freedom of speech to freedom to bear arms - all over America there have been small instances when pieced together seem to add up to a greater loss of freedom. There have been scores of sour instances involving our soldiers in Iraq - senseless deaths and rapes of civilians, along with senseless deaths and injuries of our own soldiers. People call me unpatriotic for not agreeing with this war, and I call the same people unpatriotic for believing in this war. Right is wrong, wrong is right, it just depends how you are looking at it. I don't have the energy to have these senseless battles anymore. My simple wish is that people would stop dying in Iraq - whether they be Iraqis, Sunnis, Shiites, Americans, Brits, whoever.

We spent our fourth of July staring at computer problems (these pesky Dell laptops, serves us right for using one as our server), buying a host of wireless networking equipment (and not installing it yet), eating dinner at Applebee's (for an American holiday, you need an American restaurant), and watching the Germany/Italy match. I admit it, I really wanted Germany to win. Oh well.

I miss the fireworks
I miss seeing red, white and blue everywhere
I miss cookouts
I miss red,white, and blue ice cream
I miss blueberry pie (a family tradition for the holiday, apparently, blueberries are indigenous to the U.S. and I don't know if they grow them anywhere in Europe - they certainly don't grow them in Greece)
I miss friends, family, and the hope of the American dream

To all of you who get to participate in fourth of July festivities, enjoy it, embrace it, don't take it for granted. And I hope you have the most glorious and safe independence day.

Crazy weather and shopping paydirt

After a couple of scorching weeks with temperatures hovering around 95°F (hmm, 36° C or so?) and nasty, nasty humidity, the weather has taken a rather strange turn today. Cloudy, rainy, and cold (68°F/20°C) - autumn weather. This is so atypical of Greek weather in the summer, even up here in Northern Greece, so I'm not quite sure what to think. Perhaps it is an inconvenient truth.

Taking advantage of the rainy day my husband and I went with his sister and brother to the City Gate mall here in Thessaloniki - my first "mall" shopping in a long, long time. The layout is quite like U.S. malls, so I felt right at home. There are still quite a few empty places in the mall, so hopefully as time goes on it will get some more shops. It seemed fairly popular for early on a Monday, but since the sublevel contains a giant Carrefour (a huge French supermarket chain, for those that don't know) I'm sure a lot of shoppers are drawn to the mall when they do their grocery shopping. It was fun wandering around a mall again, and they even had a gimpy Radio Shack, AND a Sephora. But I wasn't ready to spend all my husband's money today. Lucky him.

We decided to go into the Carrefour because it was there, we needed some things, and you never know what surprises a big supermarket like that might have on its shelves. We found an assortment of Betty Crocker mixes, so we bought a brownie mix (yay, I don't have to make them from scratch!) and some Bisquick (hallelujah!). We also restocked our Golden Griddle syrup, and we almost bought some Aunt Jemima pancake mix, but with Bisquick I can make pancakes easily enough anyway. There was also a nice supply of Old El Paso (Mexican food stuff) things, but alas, no refried beans. Seven-layer-dip will just have to wait.

It is always fun having a bit of the American experience when living abroad. It is amazing how much joy things you always took for granted can bring. Small, insignificant, shallow joy - but joy nonetheless.

Let them eat cheesecake

Thanks to a wonderful friend who sent a care package a couple of months ago, I had the opportunity to make my first cheesecake in a few years - cheesecake with real graham cracker crust. Unfortunately, I have yet to find graham crackers in any store around here, so I had been debating what sorts of cookies to use for crust so I could satiate my cheesecake desire when the package came to my rescue.

Now, they do have something called cheesecake here in Greece, though it tastes nothing like the cheesecake I know and love. Not that it is bad - it is just sort of a fluffy, creamy filling with some sort of biscuit crust - and it doesn't taste cheesy at all. Everyone in my husband's family loved this sort of cheesecake - until they tried mine.

I had enough graham crackers to make three cheesecakes, and due to demand for them I've made them all in quick succession. Now, I love cheesecake, but I do get tired of it. But the Greeks around me, especially my husband, seem to have become quite the little cheesecake addicts. I think there is a possibility that I could overthrow the whole country with this cheesecake.

However, now that the graham cracker supply has dwindled, I'm not sure I can keep the title of cheesecake maker supreme. I'll have to experiment a bit but it might not be the same. And then I'll never live down the constant comments of "but your first cheesecakes were so good! That crust!"

Ah well. They say the mark of a good cook is their ability to experiment. We'll see if I end up with the Frankenstein of all cheesecakes.

Sign of the apocalypse?

Egalia of Tennessee Guerilla Women posted about a church in Memphis, Tennessee that has erected a seven-story simulacrum of the Statue of Liberty, only this one is holding a cross and the ten commandments. They paid $260,000 for this monstrosity. It is really nice to know that churches have solved all the monetary problems of their communities and are now able to afford such extravagances.

Christians going batshit crazy?

A definite sign of the apocalypse.

Sorry, England

I swear it wasn't my fault. It was an interesting game, at least, starring Gene Hackman as the Portuguese coach and featuring an English player (Crouch) that bore a remarkable resemblance to a character in a Tim Burton animation. Still, did Beckham really have to cry?

As things are looking now, I'm not sure any results from here on out can be predicted. We'll see. I'm still staying away from choosing a favorite. May the best team win!

Superman, the fascist

There is an article at Watching America from the Pakistani press The Nation entitled “America Uses Superman to Promote its Fascist Agenda”. While there are some things in this article I agree with, I do believe the writer is overreacting a bit at the nature of this particular superhero, and forgets, or is ignorant of, the heroic ideal that crosses time and continents.

It may be news to foreign policy Pundits in Islamabad as well as to the majority of readers that Superman, the highly coveted American film hero, is an expression and a creation of fascist minds rooted in a political culture that epitomizes power and the use of force.

Ok, yes, America is big on use of force. Americans are sadly too gung-ho for a smackdown, and the prevailing attitude they are trying to invoke is “you better not mess with us”. While this might grant some security to many of its citizens, there are plenty of us out there who think not all wars should be fought. Superman himself, however, was created to make money, with the added effect of entertaining a few kiddos (and some adults) along the way. He was created in the spirit of many mythic heroes, born of another world, carried off as an infant to protect him from harm.

This is so, as Superman alters the nature of reality and creates a reality of his own, which defies human understanding and logic. He also violates every rule of physics and all scientific principles known to humanity. The notion of Superman is based on the idea of a battle between "good vs. evil," from an exclusively American perspective, where the battle always demonstrates an external threat to American society and its people.

Well, yea. Superman was created as an “American” hero, therefore, he protects American interests, from an American perspective. Why shouldn’t he? If anyone else, in any other country in the world, created a comic superhero, I bet they would protect that country, not America. However, once we get into the idea of good vs. evil things get a bit more interesting. Take World War II, for example. Allies thought they were the good guys. Hitler and his cronies thought they were the good guys. Everyone likes to think that their side is the right side, the good side, the moral side. Is there a definitive answer? Not always. I’d like to think fighting against Hitler was a good thing, but maybe that wasn’t the entirety of the Allied cause. When it comes to the war in Iraq the acknowledgement of right and wrong is a bit murkier. But does all this really apply to Superman?

In the end, obviously, "good" prevails and America is saved. What could be more virtuous than that? Superman is naturally and invariably a white male, handsome, debonair, brave, moral, and kind, potent, exciting, loving, and capable of generating ecstasy at the touch of a finger. And of course, he is in love with a white female equally kind-hearted, devoted, beautiful, loving, noble, pious, pure, and honorable – and together the pair fights the "evil-doers" to ultimate victory for "good," and lives in love and peace thereafter.

Well, not exactly. Superman isn’t even human, remember? And Lois Lane, well it seems she has moved on in this latest film, perhaps. Sure, they are both in appearance white, attractive, cornfed Americans, but let’s be realistic – they were created in a pre-pre-politically correct America. DC Comics is making an effort to make some “modern” changes to their superheroes, so we’ll see what happens. But even so, so what? Do you take umbrage with Alexander the Great, Pericles, Achilles, Heracles, Beowulf, King Arthur – real and imaginary characters that might be said to have the same traits listed above for Superman? Superman follows a tradition of heroic characters in the west that goes back to ancient times. The idea is hardly American.

No wonder then that at the height of Bush's neo-con-manufactured war on the so-called terrorism of Islamic militants, Superman is back with a "bang" in American movie theaters. "Superman Returns," which opens in the United States this week, is receiving knock-out reviews from critics and is winning over audiences as the latest crime-fighting, evil-smashing, and sincere "Man of Steel."

How else would America express its solidarity with the Bush Administration and its faith-oriented politics? Indeed, the concept of Superman can only be explained by unflinching faith - absolute faith that transcends ideas and is based on unshakable convictions and messianic notions that overwhelm the need for analysis. Superman is absolutely unreal, and yet he is admired for the deeds he performs. It all boils down to the promotion of Bush's fascist doctrine, both inside and outside America.

Whoa there doggie. You are completely underestimating (overestimating?) the American movie going public. I can guarantee you that more than likely, 99.9% of the movie going public will not give one thought to President Bush while watching Superman Returns. They aren’t being fooled – the story behind Superman is much older than Bush, it is the heroic tradition, again – but in the case of the new movie, you are dealing with a hero who has perhaps lost his way, no longer needed, and a villain with a personal vendetta against him. Could be an allegory for the current Bush administration and their war on terror? Could it be an allegory of American anti-Islam tendencies? Perhaps. But it could also be an allegory of a thousand stories already told.

Now, the article, which is quite interesting, goes on to talk about Bush’s fascism, religious extremism, and various other issues with the Bush administration. Honestly, I don’t altogether disagree with some of it. This view of Bush from a Pakistani perspective is quite fascinating. But obviously, I take offense at the misuse of Superman, a fictional character who can be different things to different people, a character that continues a long legacy of heroic ideals, a character that is altogether American, but whose roots run as far back as the sands of time, blending with the heroes of the ancient west, and indeed the world over.

If only he had a brain

You've gotta love a husband who, not five minutes after you tell him you are starting the meat for tacos, says:

"What's that burning smell? Are you cooking something?"

I think I'm cursed

Every team I decide I like (I do this on a game by game basis these days) seems to be losing their World Cup matches. I was rooting for Mexico, Holland, Australia, Switzerland, and Ghana and they all lost. It used to be, with baseball, that whenever I watched the Orioles play, they lost. I must have the same vibe going with soccer.

From now on, I'm not picking a favorite team. I'm not even going to think about a favorite team. I'll just enjoy the games and not have heavy heart beating moments like in the penalty shot shoot out during the Ukraine/Switzerland match. Sure, it isn't as fun. But in the very unlikely event that I am jinxing World Cup chances for some much deserving teams, I'll stay out of it.

And my wish is finally granted

Blade Runner will be rereleased in Region 2 DVD in October. I still have to wait a few months, but finally, I'll have a copy in my hot little hands.

Now, if only someone will release the second season of Twin Peaks, I won't bitch about DVD releases for a long, long time.

A sad celebrity death

IMDB is reporting that Moose, the "actor" that played Eddie the dog on Frasier, has died of old age (which was 16 and a half). I suppose he lived a good doggie life, and provided hours of entertainment to the Frasier viewing audience.

Bow wow, old friend, bow wow.

Slow news day

You know, I'm really happy for Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban. They appear to make a nice, seemingly genuine couple. I can't say much for Urban's music, as I rarely listen to any country, but I've always enjoyed Kidman's movies.

Still, is their marriage really fodder for front page news in the Tennessean? Nothing else going on in Nashville today? I know it is a boon for Nashville to have a big, glamorous star like Nicole Kidman to put down roots there and even like living there. I'm glad she likes Nashville. I'm glad she thinks people are friendly there. I happen to agree with her. But lets not go and show Nashville's amateur side by making any story involving her front page news, wedding or not. We don't want Nashville to become the scary friend who tries too hard and frightens people away because really, Nashville just wants to be liked and if it involves tattooing pigs with slogans saying "Nicole Kidman, Nashville loves you!" and unleashing them in the Green Hills area then so be it.

Nope, we don't want to be that city.

And from the distant shores comes a traveller

For the last week, we have had the marvellous fortune of having a good friend from Nashville visit with us, sharing home and hearth and experiencing all the sights and flavors of Thessaloniki. Being an expat, one gets accustomed to not seeing old friends on a daily basis, although they are never far from our thoughts and the friendship remains as dear, if not more so, than ever. New friends are enjoyable but just don't compare to folks from home with years of remembrances of good times and bad.

With departing comes a quiet melancholy, buoyed by talk of future visits and the knowledge that other friends will come and go. It is a reminder of how much we give up as expatriates, but it also reinforces how much we've gained. Thankfully, the connection that ties us to our abandoned home remains intact, if a bit taut.

Finally, a team to root for

Now that the U.S. is out of the World Cup and I've had some time to watch a few games and decide which team I like the most, I have finally decided on a team to support, however short-lived that may be.

I realize that they defeated the U.S. because of what seemed to be a rather unfair foul call, but after watching the Ghanians play a couple of times I feel they have the spirit I am looking for in a team. They are an underdog, although they are well known in the African circuit. But these boys played their hearts out against the Czech Republic and again against the U.S. And it helps that Leanne's stories of life in Accra have endeared me to the Ghanian people.

Still, they are playing Brazil in their next match, which most betters would say means a certain loss for Ghana. Lose or not, the Ghanian team has my support. Here's hoping for a good show on Tuesday.

In the meantime, I'm sure I'll enjoy Germany vs. Sweden tomorrow.

Day of light

Hope everyone is enjoying the longest day of the year. Here in Thessaloniki, darkness descended about 9:45 pm (and the sun began rising around 5am). That is a long damn day, but not as long as the days my in-laws just experienced in Helsinki, where it never really got dark, only twilight.

Blessings for a good summer for everyone.

Καλό Καλοκαίρι

Good question

I really wish Greece had made it to the World Cup to defend their Euro 2004 title. Then maybe Portuguese fans wouldn't be mocking them like this.

Nashville, new home for human trafficking relief

World Relief, Inc., has made Nashville one of four locations for the Network of Emergency Trafficking Services. While many Americans seem to turn a blind eye to the idea of human trafficking in the U.S., the Department of Health and Human Services estimates that 20,000 people a year are trafficked into America. Honestly, I fear that number may even be a bit on the low side. The network will offer assistance in shelter, health and legal services to human trafficking victims, and also help raise awareness of the issue, offering training in how to identify and respond to victims of human trafficking.

Human trafficking has long been a big concern in Greece, as the country provides easy access to Eastern European nations, where human trafficking is a large problem. But every country in the world needs to take efforts to curb human trafficking seriously, so maybe someday we can put an end to this horrible act.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services has a brochure with all kinds of information about human trafficking, including how to identify possible trafficking victims and how to talk to them.

How appropriate

The U.S. managed a 1-1 draw with Italy because an Italian scored a goal for them.

Although - I honestly think the offside call on what would have been the second U.S. goal was complete and utter bullshit.

Watch out, it's a cartoon pig!

In crazy extremist paranoia news this week, the Turkish state network, TRT, banned the airing of Winnie the Pooh because one of the main characters (the second best character, in my opinion, next to Tigger) is a pig. At first they were going to cut the scenes with Piglet in them, but there were too many.

I can respect the fact that to Muslims, pigs are considered "unclean" and not fit for consumption. But I think banning Piglet is a bit extreme, considering it is a cartoon pig, and I really don't see any Muslims running out to eat pork because of it. In fact, if anything, it would keep them from eating pork, because Piglet is so cute and you wouldn't want to eat something that cute. And I suppose that is the point - you can't portray a pig as cute, because pigs are evil.

Still, any religion that exerts so much control that you can't even see a pig in a movie or a cartoon is a bit weird to me. I mean, Christians are exposed to sinful things all the time and it doesn't necessarily mean they will do these sinful things. People were breaking religious laws long before movies or television came along, and I suspect will keep on breaking religious laws without any outward provocation.

Defining classic

As my husband and I were flipping channels this afternoon, we discovered that VH1 was counting down the top 100 Classic Rock videos. Now, I don't know what anyone else thinks of when they think of Classic Rock, but in my mind I think of Pink Floyd, the Who, Jethro Tull, Genesis, Yes, etc., etc.

Imagine our surprise when the first video we see is Alice in Chains. Now, I like Alice in Chains, but I never would have considered them to be "classic rock". At least not yet, and even so, I think the genre of "classic rock" is pretty much stuck on those bands from the 70's - if we are talking about another time period we need new terminology.

Of course, I could be objecting because I can't stand the thought that music I listened to while I was in college is now considered classic rock. But I don't think so.

I'm not cut out to be a competitive sports spectator

After watching a handful of World Cup matches and a brief stint watching the Greek games during the European Championship I've learned one thing about soccer (ok, football) - it usually doesn't really get interesting until the last five minutes of a game, but then, it really gets interesting.

Still, not being a hard line soccer fan and feeling a bit lukewarm on the whole who to root for front, I find myself, from time to time, on the side of the underdog. Take last night's match between Germany and Poland, for example. Poland lost their first game so really, they had to win to have a shot at this whole thing. The game was 0-0 until the extra time, when at 91 minutes (I think it was) Germany scored, and ultimately won the game. I felt really bad for Poland at that point, because they were playing their little hearts out and you could see how much they wanted to win in their cute little faces. Sure, at times the Polish players showed some questionably unsportsmanlike behavior on the field, but I attribute that to their extreme desire to win. Obviously, it didn't help them.

Fast forward to tonight's game between Sweden and Paraguay. Both teams lost their first games. Both teams really wanted to win. It was a draw up until the 89 minute mark, when the Swedish guy used his sweet little bald head to bounce that ball right into a game winning goal. The Swedish team was so happy, and I felt happy with them. But then I saw the exhausted and defeated faces of the Paraguay (Paraguain? Paraguigian?) team, and felt really, really bad for them, which totally overshadowed the happiness I had felt a minute before for the Swedes.

Honestly, I don't know if I can keep this up. Sure, you can throw one of those cheesy catch phrases at me - "everyone at the World Cup is a winner!" but that doesn't really make me feel any better for the losing teams. I just think about how much hope every participant has going into this thing and how horrible it is to get dashed, one by one, as the time goes on. It is hard to be humane in the world of competitive sports.

But who knows, by the time this whole thing is over, I may be rooting hard core for one team over another. We shall see.

Dark days

Today marks the anniversary of the execution of Margaret Jones, the first person executed as a witch in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. She was a midwife, as many alleged witches were, which attests to the continuing tradition of placing blame on the medical community. Still, one wonders how a colony of people who left England to avoid religious persecution could be so intolerant once they reached the New World.

One might wonder why I keep bringing up these witch executions. As Arthur Miller so brilliantly portrayed in The Crucible, the trials of witches in the 17th century were eerily similar to persecutions of people later in history- from the McCarthy hearings to hippies to blacks to gays to immigrants ad infinitum - the witch hunt appears to be a vital and unceasing part of American history. Not surprising, I suppose, in a country that continues to seek to limit the liberties of its people.

At any rate, I post these anniversaries so that we may remember - and in the hopes that perhaps one day we'll figure out a way to end unjust persecutions.

My kingdom for a tissue

I've been too sick lately to be my normal, mildly entertaining blogging self, so I shall resort to searches.

To the person who came here searching for "well hung military men" I say yes please!

To the person who came here searching for "cool satanic names with meaning" I say how about jackass?

To the person who came here searching for "cigarette stench" "redneck" I say not only rednecks smoke cigarettes.

To the person who came here searching for "my cat won't shut up" I say how about getting the poor critter fixed?

In other news, what would drive a person to smack someone silly with a dead chihuahua? I mean, I can understand being upset about the puppy dying and all, but using the dead puppy as a weapon has to be a first.

Everyone get ready for the first all cat reality show, to air on Animal Planet starting June 16th. There is no end, is there?

I guess I need to pick a new team

So the U.S. lost their first game in the World Cup, to the tragic beat of 3 - 0. The U.S. team didn't play altogether poorly, but they surely didn't play as well as the Czech Republic. Of course, for me I find it pretty amazing that anyone can run around a field with a ball at your feet and not constantly fall over it.

I thought the night would end in fisticuffs as my ire mounted towards a group of Greeks down the street who kept cheering every time the Czechs made a goal. Of course, the Greeks might as well pick a team who knows how to play to cheer for, since their own team didn't even make it to the World Cup.

Two more games for the U.S. on the 17th (Italy) and 22nd (Ghana). Italy will be a tough competitor for sure, I can't really speak for Ghana. Here's hoping the U.S. can manage at least one win.

The perfect storm

As dawn approached a storm drew near – not a virulent, violent tempest – a gentle, calming thunder that rolled in slowly from the sea. While the sounds rumbled overhead the dawn sky emitted the most spectacular light, as if the world was sheathed in a sheer, caramel silk. The color was alluring, sensual – the city was calling to the storm in the sea like a lustful siren

Come to me
Cover me
I am waiting

The rain fell in large, crystalline droplets, as if they carried long forgotten tears – a sailor lost at sea, a hero felled in combat - the quiet sorrow of a thousand years. The thunder boomed sonorously yet peacefully, a long lost lover emerging from Poseidon’s realm, embracing the city in the protection of sea, mountain, and sky. One last gift of Zeus, his voice whispers among the winds and the rain

I am here
I am here
I still watch over you

Times they aren't a changin'

Today marks the anniversary of the hanging of Bridget Bishop, the first official execution of the Salem witch trials in 1692.

It is a bit spooky how things in America never change, the only difference is the cast of characters and their alleged sins.

Cats will rule the world someday

Think you are having a bad day? I feel sorry for this little bear who got chased up two trees by Jack the cat.

More evidence for my ongoing theory that cats are simply aliens waiting to take over the world.

My husband is making me sick

A week and a half ago, my husband and I arranged to have a date. Sure, a date when you're married is kinda silly, but everything we do, even plans with friends and colleagues, seems to be last minute so we thought we'd arrange a day and time and go out for dinner.

The day of our date, my husband arrived home from work cheerfully. He had a small snack then hunkered down for his usual siesta. When he woke up a couple of hours later, though, he wasn't feeling so well. I thought he was using stomach upset as a cop out on our date, but a couple of days later he was really suffering. Sore throat, coughing, runny nose, stomach issues - the whole shebang. This is what we get for scheduling a date.

A week later, my husband is almost cured, aside from a few sniffles. Today, however, I woke up with the itchiest, scratchiest throat of my life. Since my husband is working in the ER all night, I have to face my sickness alone, all the while cursing him under my breath.

I guess this is why "in sickness and in health" is in the wedding vows. Sure shootin' if one of us gets sick, the other will follow. There is no avoiding it. Still, if he didn't work in a hospital it might not be so common.

I know one thing, I'm never scheduling a date with my husband again!

What your mother-in-law doesn't tell you

Because of my husband’s vitriolic hatred of cat hair, our large apartment is divided in two parts: one part of the apartment is our normal living area - bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom - and the other part of the apartment is a large living/dining area. My husband keeps all his clothes and does his changing in the cat free zone of the apartment, and thus, his clothes are all over the place in there.

When my mother-in-law arrived for my Greek lesson today, my husband answered the door and they talked for a few minutes. When I came into the room, I mentioned with some exasperation to my mother-in-law that a tornado of my husband’s clothes was taking over the room. She said that is what they had just been talking about, and that my husband told her he was going to put all the winter clothes in the closet. I responded, laughing, that he said he would do that a month ago.

My mother-in-law shook her head sadly, and spoke with some regret, “I know”. She paused a moment, then said “I am married to his father”, with a long and resounding sigh.

Geez lady. A warning before I married your son would have been nice.

Happy Satan Day!

There is a bit of numerical interest to living at the beginning of a century - you get to see calendar dates align. We've already experienced 1 through 5 and now the sixes get their turn.

The sixes, however, generate more hullabaloo because, in triplicate, they represent the alleged sign of the alleged devil, the prince of darkness, the unholiest of the unholy, the bane of the Christian existence.

Of course, for most of us, celebrating 6.6.06 is just about having a bit of fun. Most of us don't take it seriously, because it is simply superstitious fodder. Plus if you consider the whole date, 6.6.2006, it kinda screws the whole thing up. But there are some people who are taking it a bit too seriously, making plans so they don't give birth today, counting down to the apocalypse, and so on and so forth.

Personally, I think it would be cool to have a birthday of 6.6.06, although not as cool as being born in 69. But for those women who are upset that they gave birth today, here are some helpful tips from the satirical slubberdegullions of Landover Baptist Church.

For everyone else, enjoy this once in a lifetime day of numerical alignment, and remember, it is all in good fun.

Only in Greece

I've said before that I feel the Greek law enforcement system is woefully inept. Here is some proof:

Only in Greece can you stage a prison escape BY HELICOPTER.

If they weren't dangerous criminals still on the loose, it would be almost funny.

I'm so bummed

My husband is working an ER shift on Tuesday, which means I'll have no one to celebrate 6.6.06 with!

This is what happens when adults hate...

...kids start hating too.

In a horrible news story that has shocked Greece, five children between the ages of 11 and 13 have been connected to the murder of an 11-year-old boy in Veria.

This sort of thing used to be quite rare in Greece. However, hateful attitudes among adults seem to be on the rise in Greece, especially among nationalists and anti-immigration proponents. Unfortunately, the attitudes of adults can be reflected in the actions of children.

Obviously, we don't know all the facts of the case yet, whether or not all five children were party to the murder or simply witnesses or what the motives are. But the murder of a child, no matter where or for what reason, is the type of thing that should stop us all and make us think.

I don't think this is what the Constitution is for...

It looks like Dubya is going to back an amendment banning states from recognizing same-sex marriages on Monday. Sure, it seems unlikely that it will garner enough votes to pass through the Senate, but I think the fact that the government thinks this sort of thing is proper fodder for Constitutional amendments is worrisome.

What will be next? A ban on mixed race marriages? A ban on immigrant marriages? A ban on special needs marriages? Special requirements on marriages to make sure good gene pools are marrying? How about a ban on certain types of art, literature, music? How about a ban on certain thoughts?

An amendment banning states from recognizing same-sex marriages, even if the people of any given state support and wish to recognize same-sex marriages, seems to be crossing some boundaries I don't think we want to cross with the federal government. I'm sure I'm overreacting on some levels, but I think such a ban is cruel and unnecessary. There is absolutely no logical reason to ban same-sex marriages, except that some people just don't like the idea of it. But if we start banning things people don't like the idea of, there aren't going to be many things left.

It lives to annoy

Does the mosquito really have a living purpose other than annoying the ever holy living crap out of people? These Thessaloniki mosquitoes are hard core bitches, they get in and suck every last morsel of blood, on every last part of your body, making you look like some inhuman creation of the Planet Pox. And oh god, the itching! The itching! These bastards are making me scratch my ass in public, for god's sake.

I have experienced mosquitoes before but never like this. These mosquitoes are surely the spawns of some backwater swamp demon who is looking for a promotion. And by the way, why is it always the females of any given species who are such dirty, dirty, mean, bitchy whores?

Wait a minute, please don't answer that. I'd like to keep the worms in the can, please.

Great minds or scary in-laws?

It is one thing when you and your spouse say and think of the same things at the very same time. It is entirely another when you and your mother-in-law say the same things at the very same time.

I think I spend too much time with these people.

It isn't so funny if it is true

Today, someone arrived at my blog after doing a search for "flight simulator divorce". I found this incredibly funny, because while I tease my husband about divorcing him due to a condition I call "flight simulator geekiness", I never actually would divorce him.

Then I thought that perhaps someone did get divorced because of their flight simulator habits, and I felt bad for laughing. I know that some people can get overly obsessed with their gaming, and that it can put a strain on personal relationships. But I also know one of the secrets to a good marriage is tolerating a few whims now and then, as long as no one is going overboard.

To the person who was searching for "living in the same city as mother in law", you have my condolences. I can't give you much advice, though, because I am quite happy to be living in the same city as my mother in law.

To the person who searched for "lesbians scatology image" I say ewwww. Ewwww!

To the person who searched for "are italians loud" I say ask an Italian.

To the person who searched for "the foggy shapes" I say take your medication.

To the person who searched for "feta cheese ethical moral" I say huh?

To the person who searched for "greek mullet hair" I say yep, you find the mullet do in Greece in abundance.

To the person who searched for "what does it mean to give someone enough rope" I say if you can't figure that one out, you don't have enough rope.

And finally,

To the person who searched for "devil+letter+love", I don't think there is an address for hell.

Johnny has gone for a soldier

Today millions of Americans are off work, ostensibly to pay tribute to the hundreds of thousands of war dead that have died in the name of the good old U.S. of A. Memorial Day should not be confused with Veteran’s Day, which is in November and honors both living and dead military men and women.

Generally speaking I don’t have a problem with honoring both living and dead soldiers, but soldiers aren’t the only casualties of any given war. In the end, however, am I really expected to honor soldiers who are fighting and dying for a cause I don’t agree with? I feel bad that so many have died, and so many more have been injured, but these are deaths and injuries I feel should have been avoided. Should I call these soldiers heroes because they are willing to fight whatever war President Bush wants to wage? Are they heroes, or are they slaves?

Memorial Day was first celebrated as a means of memorializing Civil War dead. The South had the idea first, and the North followed suit. 150 years later, it is hard to blame either side for that war. But it was a war that meant something, a war that was to determine a way of life for the people of America. Should the South have been allowed to secede? Is it a war that should have been avoided? These are answers I do not have. I can say I am glad to have grown up in a single, unified America, but I can’t say how the fates would have played out had the U.S. been divided.

I’m not naïve. I realize that there are wars that must be fought. I’m just not convinced Iraq was one of them. I’ve heard all the justifications, all the pro-war monger statements. I’m still not convinced. Hussein was a bad man, a Hitler, no doubt. But could we have found a better way? In the wake of news of soldiers decimating a group of civilians, of the weird afflictions our soldiers are returning home with, the pain, the nightmares – couldn’t there have been a better way? A better way, instead of having a generation of our best soldiers broken down slowly by the diseases of war. A generation of fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters, lost.

On Memorial Day, I shall remember the war dead. The soldiers, the civilians. The families of both who are forever bereaved. The millions dead to genocides worldwide. The millions upon millions of survivors who face a battered land and untold hardships in the fight for reconstruction. I memorialize them all. But most of all, on Memorial Day, I wish for peace.

How a doctor patches a hole

When we got our new air conditioner installed, the brilliant Funai installation guys left a huge gap in the wall, where the hose connects the inside unit to the outside unit. We were left to patch it up ourselves.

My husband purchased the spackle/cement stuff to patch it up, and of course a few days lapsed. Today he decided to patch up the whole, with great difficulty. The spackle wouldn't stick to the cement and the spackle knife thingy wasn't working too well for the small space. First he tries a spoon. It worked a little better, but still left two small holes. So what does my brilliant doctor husband decide to use next?

A syringe. Yes, my talented husband spent the afternoon filling a syringe with spackle and squirting it into the hole. It still didn't work that well, but I spent a good five minutes laughing at him, which was worth it.

Angelina gives birth to a hyphen

And we thought the era of hyphenated last names was over.

According to my favorite celebrity gossip blog, Angelina Jolie gave birth to a baby girl on Saturday, naming her Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt.

My cousin married a girl named Shiloh, although I think she spells it a bit differently. In honor of the upcoming Memorial Day holiday, here's a bit of info about the Civil War Battle of Shiloh. Very weird choice for a name. Perhaps this baby announcement is some kind of hoax.

Suffrage in America

Does it bother anyone else that more Americans exercised their right to vote for the final American Idol than have ever exercised their right to vote for President?

Now I realize, of course, that people under the age of 18 can vote for their favorite American Idol contestant, and so can convicted felons, so I suppose generally speaking that throws a few more people into the mix.

There are around 190 million registered voters in America, and only 62 million of those voted in the highly contested 2004 election (which was, I believe, one of the highest voter counts ever), which means that 32% of registered voters actually voted. If 63.4 million people voted for the American Idol final, and out of 292 million Americans subtract a few million for the people under the age to give a damn and a few million more who are of age but still don't give a damn, and you probably end up with a similar percentage. What is even more frightening is this:

Yesterday's result came on the heels of a survey last month that found one in ten Americans had voted on American Idol and 35 per cent of viewers said that they considered the vote as important - if not more important - than if it were for the presidency.

Now, I am not here to put down American Idol or its fans. There are similar Greek shows of which my in-laws are equally enamored. But really? Just as important as the presidency? This is why we are fighting a war with Iraq and might be nuking the living crap out of Iran? Seriously?

Ok, I'm using a bit of poetic license with the hyperbole. But if this is really the attitude of a chunk of Americans then, well, wow. I think we've seriously lost some perspective here. Wake up and smell the soma, people. Take some responsibility for your government first, lest they be telling you exactly who you can vote for in the future.

My husband, the superhero

The other night I walked into the bedroom, and my husband was lying in bed watching T.V. At the very instant I entered the room, he let loose a magnanimous fart that surely erupted from the very depths of Tartarus. Concurrent with this monstrous feat of flatulence, the T.V. turned off, as if on its own. For a moment, logic betrayed me, obviously stunted by the kamikaze attack and olfactory meltdown of the ginormous fart, and I turned to my husband and said, with great surprise,

“Did the force of your fart just turn off the T.V.???”

My husband stared at me as if I had just given birth to a flock of dancing sheep. Annoyed, I asked again,

“Seriously, did you just turn off the T.V. with a fart?”

My husband gave me another look, a look that says surely-you-are-kidding-because-otherwise-you-need-some-serious-psychological-help, also known as the “what kind of crack have you been smoking?” look. He said, calmly,

“You turned off the light switch when you came into the room”.

I looked at him dubiously, because our light switches don’t control power outlets. He repeated,

“When you turned off the light switch it must have caught a circuit or something in the T.V. and made it turn off”.

As the cloud of noxious gas dispersed I began to regain my senses, and I realized I had indeed turned off the light switch right before the T.V. turned off. The fact that the fart occurred at the same time was simply coincidence. Deflated, I looked at my husband and said,

“And here I was hoping we had just discovered your hidden superpower”.

I’m still not sure what bothers me more: that I actually thought a fart could turn off the television or that I’m not actually married to a superhero that uses his flatulence to do good in the world.

All the info we don't need to know

My husband and I were out and about this evening and he pointed out a t-shirt a young man was wearing. Now, I realize that all sorts of sundry messages are printed on t-shirts, many of them obscene, but this one was a doozy.

The shirt had a "construction sign" design on it, yellow with a black background, and it had the image of a man having sex with a girl in a very uncomfortable place (no, not the back of a Volkswagen). The slogan said "Back door maniac". I really couldn't care less whether someone is a back door maniac or not. I feel that people should be free to explore whatever sexual proclivities they may have, as long as it is consensual and they are adults. But I had to say I felt for this man's girlfriend, sitting across from her man with such a shirt. Not only does the shirt make a statement about the man, it makes a statement about the woman that is with him.

Still, and I think I speak for the world here, that is way more information than I ever want to know about a stranger.

Why Nashville is a weird, weird place

Back in December I posted about the infamous Nun Bun that was stolen from one of my favorite Nashville haunts. It seems the perpetrators of this holy prank have sent the Nashville newspaper, The Tennessean, a picture of the pious bun, intact and having a jolly old time with other religious relics. The picture is a bit iffy though, and I have my doubts that the bun was actually in that particular place.

Where will the bun end up next? Maybe we’ll see a picture of the pope with the bun. Wouldn’t that be grand? At any rate it is nice to know that the bun is enjoying a carefree lifestyle, instead of being locked up in its sacred prison at Bongo Java. Let’s just hope the kidnapper never harms the poor little bun.

Apparently, freedom of speech doesn't apply to valedictorians

The valedictorian of Gallatin High School in Sumner County, Tennessee, is facing criminal charges because he took the microphone during graduation to give a speech. Not only is the poor boy facing misdemeanor charges for disorderly conduct, the principal is threatening to keep his diploma from him.

In most American high schools, it is traditional that the valedictorian gives the graduation speech. Not at Gallatin High though. The honor instead goes to the class president, a position not always worthy of commencement speechmaking, let along good grades. It has long been my opinion that the whole idea of class president, etc., be abandoned, because I don't see that it ever served any real purpose aside from reunion planning, and some don't even do that very well.

Essentially, this is what happened. The valedictorian, Chris Linzy, wrote a speech for graduation, and took it upon himself to grab the microphone from the teacher when he went up to collect his diploma. He muttered a few words before the microphone was turned off and he went back to his seat. Mr. Linzy's intent was to challenge the idea of the class president giving the speech.

Now I realize the need for administrators to have graduation ceremonies go smoothly. I realize that having some random student grab the microphone and start talking can be disruptive. But we are talking about high school students here, high school students that are elated about graduating. Every once in awhile things get a bit out of hand, a bit too much cheering, some out of order singing - minor things that I think add to the spirit of the graduating class and the ceremony itself. I can understand pressing charges and withholding a diploma if a student gets on stage drunk, grabs a microphone, and starts shouting expletives, but this was a good student with a prepared speech. I guess scholarship isn't the most important thing to the administrators of Gallatin High School.

The principal, Rufus Lassiter, insists that students were repeatedly warned about the consequences of disorderly conduct at the ceremony. Thank god no one accidentally squeezed out a monster fart or there might be more charges be pressed today. Mr. Lassiter continued to whine that Mr. Linzy wanted publicity for himself and that 270 other students got no publicity whatsoever. Huh? What does that even mean?

I hope, for this boy's sake, the charges are dropped and he gets his diploma. This is perhaps one of the most ridiculous cases of power wielding I've ever heard of. OMG, do something! We have a student out of control! He is trying to give a prepared speech! Oh nos!

For more information, along with a copy of Mr. Linzy's speech, check out egalia's post at Tennessee Guerilla Women.

UPDATE: It seems he did get his diploma at the demand of the school superintendent, although nothing indicates whether or not the charges were dropped.

Melodramas are all alike

We inherited our housekeeper from my in-laws. Well, we didn't "inherit" her per se, but she comes to us every couple of weeks on loan from my in-laws. She has been a part of the family for many, many years, and is quite beloved by all of us.

Her propensity for watching "her shows" was well known to me - it is no secret she shares a passion for the afternoon showings of the South American soap operas and an even greater affection for some of the Greek shows. So far, however, I have been impervious to these shows, as she hasn't requested them when she is here. Until today.

Today she tried to educate me to the lifes, loves, and passions of a show called Esmeralda, a South American serial drama badly dubbed in Greek. As we watched the heavily made up actresses and actors highlighted by soft lighting cross the screen, Miss Ellie told me everything I needed to know about each one of them. Who was good, who was bad, who was rich, who was poor, who had a rich family, but was now poor, who was in love with who, who the real father of the baby is, etc., etc. Miss Ellie knows only Greek and my Greek is very poor, but I still understood the basics of what she was trying to tell me - obviously soap opera storylines are simple enough to translate.

Her expectation, I think, was that I would be instantly enthralled by the soap opera. Many females in Greece seem to be fond of such shows, including my mother-in-law and sister-in-law (well, at least I know of some Greek shows they watch assiduously), but I am not one of them. It has been a good twenty years since I regularly watched a soap opera. The storylines seem to be all the same no matter what country the soap opera is from, and they all have the same predictability.

Once Miss Ellie was out of earshot, I changed the channel to much more interesting drama - the unfolding story of the fire at the Constantinople airport on CNN. We all know truth is much stranger than fiction. And much more interesting.

In Greece, even the young must suffer

Today my dear brother-in-law (the baby of my husband's family) began his PanHellenic Exams, a terrifying rite of passage for all Greek high school seniors. These exams are not just stressful for the same reasons most exams are stressful - these exams essentially determine the fate of the rest of each student's life: whether they will go to college, whether they will study the subject they want to study, whether they will be employable a few years down the road. Essentially, each student decides the course of study they would most like to pursue in their university education, and takes a slate of exams related to the field. If you do poorly, or if too many other students outscore you, you won't get the university position you desire. You can try again the next year, but I can't imagine wanting to go through all that stress all over again.

At any rate, the entire family is on pins and needles hoping, praying, and worrying about my dear brother-in-law and how he will do on his exams. Personally, I think he will do fine, after all, he has three siblings who ended up in their desired fields. But I feel for the poor kid too, for the past year he has lessons upon lessons, every night, weekends, all the time studying, learning, preparing for these exams.

I don't know about you, but my senior year was the party year. Sure, I went to the geeky smarty school, but after the first semester of my senior year I was pretty much done with all my credits, my college applications were long mailed, and my second semester courses consisted of something like three study halls, a creative writing class, an English class, and some bullshit social studies/economics type deal. By the end of senior year most of us had gotten into the colleges of our choice, and most of us were exempt from any exams due to good grades. In short, nobody cared, and we were carefree.

To me, this made sense, even though I was one of those kids who loved school. I loved it. But life at Hume-Fogg was pretty challenging at times, and we were all pretty conscientious students. By the second semester of our senior year, we deserved a break. Just deciding on colleges, writing application essays, and taking the SAT and ACT were stressful enough - I can't imagine having to pick, definitively, what I would end up doing for the rest of my life and having to prepare for exams that would determine whether or not I would even attend college. I'm especially glad I didn't have to do that now, since I switched majors in my sophomore year.

Now, I realize that university for Greeks is free. I realize that it is a small country that can't support too many people in any one area of expertise. But I feel like there should be some balance between the "all or nothing" decision at the age of 17 or 18 and having some kind of choice about your future. If kids are spending too much time focusing on their studies for these exams, how are they learning anything else?

This is not to say that I think the American way of higher learning is perfect. There are way too many students who don't care or pursue college life simply as a means of getting away from home and partying. This seems all the more idiotic when you think that these kids (or their parents, actually) are paying for this education that they aren't valuing enough. But I do think that 17-year-olds aren't necessarily ready, or able, to make life-changing decisions about their future. I also don't think it is appropriate for their parents to make the decisions for them.

Do I have a middle ground solution? Not really. But I don't know if the PanHellenic exam system is a sound one. There has been lots of controversy in the past - students who get to go where they want because of connections, students who scored terribly in their field but because they are among too few they get to go to college anyway, and a number of other small dramas. I also am not familiar with the scoring system or the setup of the exams themselves to know if they are able qualifiers to judge students and their knowledge of their chosen subject. Having worked in scoring for national tests in America, I can't help but be a bit curious.

For now, all I can do is hope my dear brother-in-law reaches his heart's desire when it comes to his education. And I'll be happiest for him when all this stress is over.

Humid

The humidity bears down on me, but the air it drags is cool. I feel the moisture all around me – between my fingers, on my throat, glistening on my lips. It weighs down my conscience like a wet flag, unkempt and left out in the rain. My eyes stare, unblinking, at every horror, every sadness, every pain. I am only a watcher. The wall between us is high, but transparent. I dare not pass through. My fear leaves me behind.

I walk in the footsteps of a thousand years. I can hear the echoes of all who have walked before me - elation, despair, the never ending cry of millions of voices. I do not know if they will all be heard or their lives remembered. I can only listen. The space between us is filled with concrete, but resonant. I dare not climb. My fear leaves me behind.

My eyes trace the horizon of an empty sea. I can see shadows in the distance - hopeful, frightened, drowning. I do not know if they will make it to shore or find the promise of the land. I can only keep walking. The gate between us is closed, but rusted. I dare not open it. My fear leaves me behind.

I hear the solemn chant of a devout priest. I can feel the silent prayers of all who sit before him - a candle for the blessed, the sick, the dead. I do not know if their faith can sustain them or if their prayers will be answered. I can only keep hoping. There is a forest between us, but it is filled with sunlight. I dare not enter it. My fear leaves me behind.

I feel the weight of an ageless soul. I know it is lost, broken – a sloping mire of love and hate, borne from years of watching, listening, walking, hoping. I can only endure. There is a river between us, but it is filled with rocks. I dare not cross it. My fear has left me behind.

Soundtrack for a lonely day

01 Deep Dish – Say Hello

02 Massive Attack – Special Cases

03 Tracy Chapman – 3000 Miles

04 Coldplay – Fix You

05 Sigur Ros – Glosoli

06 Kate Bush – How to be Invisible

07 Royksopp – What Else Is There

08 Johnny Cash – Hurt

09 Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah

In which the Germans try their hand at country music

The 51^st Eurovision Song Contest, hosted delightfully by Athens, has now declared its winner. The show was the typical fare, a mixture of some ethnic, some pop, some folk, and to my delight this year there was a taste of Nashville country. The most horrifying moment, however, was probably when the Dutch presenter came on air to give the Dutch voting results. He compared the two hosts, Maria and Sakis, to Will and Grace, and then proceeded to shamelessly flirt with Sakis. Poor Sakis, he had a bit of a hard time recovering.

I admit, Eurovision is cheesy, but it is good old fashioned fun. It is great to look back at some of the earlier years which had true representations of each country’s culture in music. Here are my thoughts on this year’s show:

Most interesting

Finland’s Lordi. This is what happens when Gwar and KISS have babies. They aren’t bad for metal, but my headbangin’ days are long over. At any rate, they were the winners by a landslide this year, so they must be doing something right.

Germany’s Texas Lightning. Yea, ok, I realize that country music has an appeal worldwide. But the last people I expected to see performing country music are the Germans. Honestly, they didn’t do a bad job, either. They apparently cover all the greats, including Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, and Bill Monroe. Their tag line is the best: It’s not a joke, it’s country. Are you listening, Nashville? Better watch out for the Germans.

Guilty pleasure

Russia’s Dima Bilan. He came in second, not surprisingly. Ok, maybe the song was a bit cheesy, but I liked it. Plus he is a little cutie, despite the badly drawn mullet hair.

My favorite songs

Norway’s Christine Guldbrandsen with Alvedansen and Bosnia-Herzegovina’s Hari Mata Hari with Lejla.

Most annoying

Lithuania and their non-song rap/trying-to-be-cute-and-funny song We are the Winners. Sure, I appreciate their attempt at humor, but I don’t appreciate it enough.

The UK’s Daz Sampson with Teenage Life. He obviously stole this rap from the soundtrack for Annie – It’s a Hard Knock Life. Two problems - one, this white boy can’t rap; two, the UK is famous for good music, how come their last four entries to Eurovision were crap?

The Ukraine’s Tina Karol. Two words: Shakira wannabe.

How to get a fine German sausage, Greek style

Last night my husband and I wanted to have dinner out, which isn’t too unusual for us lately, but we wanted something different. Well, in all actuality I was craving some American fare because I was plum taverna-d out. We were going to go to Applebee’s, but it was late when my husband got home and I decided I didn’t want to weave my way through the ultra-hip crowds of youngsters down by the sea. My sister-in-law recommended we go to Extrablatt, a restaurant close to home. I was not disappointed. The menu offers recipes of a German/Greek flare, along with other international flavors. And for beer lovers, what a selection!

I highly recommend this restaurant if you want a nice place to eat in Thessaloniki. The cost is a bit high by Greek standards – about twice what you would pay at your average taverna, but well worth it. The food, service, and ambience were all top notch. Too bad I didn’t have a camera phone, or I’d be tempting everyone with pictures of their luscious food and brilliant décor.

Oh, and if you go, be sure to check out the beer poster by the bathroom.

A universal rite of passage

Yesterday my husband bought his first tub of spackle. He is finally a real man.

I couldn't be more proud of him.