Congrats to Gina on the completion of her Nano-Mofo-Schlomo novel.

I had a little spare time this morning, so I thought I'd do a little reading about Thanksgiving.

Here are a few different perspectives on the holiday in question:

The Pilgrims set ground at Plymouth Rock on December 11, 1620. Their first winter was devastating. At the beginning of the following fall, they had lost 46 of the original 102 who sailed on the Mayflower. But the harvest of 1621 was a bountiful one. And the remaining colonists decided to celebrate with a feast -- including 91 Indians who had helped the Pilgrims survive their first year. It is believed that the Pilgrims would not have made it through the year without the help of the natives. The feast was more of a traditional English harvest festival than a true 'thanksgiving' observance. It lasted three days.

The Thanksgiving Story

- - -

With Philip and most of their leaders dead, the Wampanoag were nearly exterminated. Only 400 survived the war. The Narragansett and Nipmuc had similar losses, and although small bands continued to live along the Connecticut River until the 1800s, the Pocumtuc disappeared as an organized group. For the English, the war was also costly: 600 killed and more than half of 90 settlements attacked with 13 destroyed. Edward Randolph, an agent of the crown, estimated 3,000 natives were killed, but his estimate appears to have been very conservative. From a pre-war native population in southern New England of 15,000, only 4,000 were left in 1680, and the harsh peace terms imposed by the English placed them in total subjugation. In what has been called the Great Dispersal, the Algonquins in southern New England fled either to the Sokoki and French in Canada, or west to the Delaware and Iroquois.

Wampanoag History

- - -

Wampanoag people have always held many seasonal thanksgiving ceremonies. But there is a big difference between these ancient and ongoing celebrations and the Pilgrims' first harvest festival which led to the establishment of the National holiday now known as Thanksgiving. For Wampanoag people, this holiday evokes painful feelings about the consequences they are forced to endure for European settlement and the establishment of America

Wampanoag people describe their own thanksgivings

What is the Meatrix?

I went to the social security building in Chinatown yesterday. While standing in line an elderly man came over and started asking me questions in broken English. He was pointing at a piece of paper and saying, "I stand here? You stand here?" I just nodded my head and said, "I really don't know." I wasn't even sure if I was standing in the right place. I was the only white person in a line of at least forty people, and for some reason this old man felt I had some extra knowledge regarding the functions and protocol of the social security office. He kept asking me different questions. I was able to decipher around twenty percent of them, and I was unable to answer any. I kept waiting for a government employee to come by and stamp SORE THUMB on my forehead, or at least give me a cap that said stupid white guy on it. Eventual the old man and I were able to overcome the barriers of language, and he recognized me for the ignorant member of the line herd that I was, and he walked away. moo.

I would say I'm sorry
If I thought that it would change your mind
But I know that this time
I've said too much
Been too unkind
I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
Cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry

-The Cure

I do nothing. I watch the world slip by, the joys, the sorrows, the injustice, the brutality. I see it flash by the cathode ray tubes that feed me information. I am numb to it. It's fed to me sweetened with sugar and syrup to make it palatable, to keep me placid and even. It's slipped under my tongue, and I am told to relax and swallow. This won't hurt a bit, it's just to relax you. No need to get upset. Don't rock the boat, just swallow. It's sweet, you'll see. I do nothing.

Today on the train I passed a man reading the paper. The headline read Sniper Found Guilty. Under my breath I murmered, "Justice". I thought about the people he had shot, and the lives he had taken, had stolen. I thought about the things that might turn a man into a killer. The kind of weight that must press upon your soul, and after a while bend it, twist your thoughts and spirit, blend right into wrong and truth into ambiguity. How many times can your heart break until it becomes hard and black and mean. Is this what makes a man turn his hate on the world, turn people into targets.

I thought about justice. How the headlines will put peoples minds at ease, refuel the notion that the good guys win, and the bad guys get caught and put away. Between the lines of the article read tales of society holding together, protecting itself against the bad in the world, good triumphing over evils. In the subtext it told a story of revenge, of vengeance.

I wondered how thin a line there is between him and us, between him and me. I'd like to think that there is a hard line, a clearly defined strong line. We live on one side, and they on the other. Good and evil is separated by this line, and this truth is clear and simple. Good defeats evil. Justice prevails. No gray. No ambiguity. Good. Bad.

It was my view then, and still is, that you don't make war without knowing why. Knowledge, of course, is always imperfect, but it seemed to me that when a nation goes to war it must have a reasonable confidence in the justice and imperative of its cause. You can't fix your mistakes. Once people are dead, you can't make them undead.

The Things They Carried - Tim O'Brien

WASHINGTON (Rooters) - It has been reported that the estimated stock of oil in middle eastern oil fields was grossly over estimated, and the last barrel of oil was pulled from the last working well yesterday. "It seems we made a slight mistake in our calculations, must of misplaced a decimal point or something." a scientist from Halliburton stated, "It appears that middle eastern oils fields have all gone dry." All US troops have since been evacuated from Iraq, Saddam Hussein has been reinstated as President/Dictator, and the United States has begun referring to Iraq as Cambodia and/or Somalia.

When asked about this latest development President Bush stated, "We are not the peace keepers of the world. This seems like a matter for the UN to handle." When asked about the current conflict in Israel the President declared, "What, oh that, who cares."

At the opening ceremonies [of the Rugby World Cup] a few weeks ago, Aussie Prime Minister John Howard, recently censured for lying about Iraq, stepped out to declare the games officially open -- and the entire stadium of cheering fans suddenly unleashed a cathartic chorus of boos. Howard looked humiliated, and didn't even speak for about ten solid seconds. Dishonesty actually being treated as dishonorable -- a national leader actually being held accountable, face-to-face, by the public -- oh man, that was something to see.

The game they play in heaven

A nice snow drift photo via Down on the Farm.

However, I fear this is only a bit of foreshadowing for the winter that's yet to come.

In the end, I always liked Heat Miser better...

Outside the Wall 

All alone, or in two's,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.

And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad bugger's wall. 

-Roger Waters

Outside the Inbox is a compilation of songs inspired by and titled after the subject lines of mass-email (spam). I asked artists to choose a spam subject line and then write a song with the same title.

Outside The Inbox - songs inspired by spam

-via pedro

Gina is writing a novel, and learning up the whole world.

I think a good lead character would be a uni-visioned, bold and brilliant man lost in a world of erotic misadventure...I'm just saying.

Greed has poisoned men's souls... has barricaded the world with hate... has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.

Our knowledge has made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.

The Great Dictator

Free movable type hosting...free as in wine coolers?

All the really good times happened when Wayne was around...But this afternoon, somehow, was the best of all those times. We had money. We were grimy and tired. Usually we felt guilty and frightened, because there was something wrong with us, and we didn't know what it was; but today we had the feeling of men who had worked.

Jesus' Son

thanks to jules for the photo...

The Senate's action came on a voice vote with only six members present, meaning that the decisions of individual members on the administration's vision for Iraq were not recorded. Not voting on the record appealed to both Republicans nervous about explaining the amount to their constituents, and Democrats who did not want their patriotism questioned for opposing the bill. On Friday, the House voted 298 to 121 in favor of the bill. The bill now goes to the president for his signature.

...

Even supporters said the continuing toll of casualties made it hard for them to explain their vote to skeptical constituents back home.

Senate Sends Spending Bill for War Costs to President

Why do we as a people put up with this kind of thing...secret voting by politicians afraid to stand up and be counted? This is democracy?

Sometimes, Batman can't do it all alone. Sometimes, a special kind of crime fighter is needed. Sometimes, that crime fighter likes to eat his sandwiches sliced into fours, with the crust cut off, and the jelly made into little smiley faces on top of the peanut butter, cause they're his little friends...with strawberry milk...

Halloween 2003, Laguna Beach

Batman and "friend" get ready for halloween festivities.