° 02.05.20.mo | things left behind
To the best of my knowledge, these are bits of ourselves that we've left behind on the island of Kauai:
- One pair of flip-flops: probably sitting pool side, or hidden in the rent-a-car.
-
Two coupon/vouchers for tickets from Kauai to Honolulu: maybe someone got a
free flight!
- One rubber cock ring, worn as a pair of bracelets: we purchased them in Times Square while waiting for a delayed train; Nora maintains no one ever recognized them as anything other than jewelry, though they were much cheaper than if they'd been purchased as such.
- Two hair clips: probably floating on the bottom of the ocean after a tumble by a wave.
- One copy of my itinerary: I usually travel with at least two copies of my trip info, because I'm bound to lose one.
[Update: the owner of one of the bed and breakfasts we stayed at sent me an email asking if we wanted our beach towel!]
° 02.05.09.th | blogs as ego traps
During the WWW2002 session on blogs I commented that despite my own excitement for the phenomena and pleasure from "ranting" on the Web, blogs are a danger to Buddhist-like conceptions of ego — or in other cultural ethics, incite the perils of hubris. I often feel conflicted about the rush external attention and validation can bring, and the excitement resulting from media attention, name dropping, google grabbing, and link hoaring.
Robert Scoble responded that there are questions of power involved because, for some, links equal money, and there's an economy of reciprocation. As a consequent those that are abusive or incorrect filter out, regardless of the power they once exercised. I agree, this is a reason the medium is compelling, but...
One of the most astute questions a friend ever asked me was if I'd still bother with a mohawk if I lived on a deserted island. He was challenging whether that form of expression was true to my self, or merely a reaction against the other. I responded I'd still feel like doing it even absent someone to piss off.
Despite the fact that communication is about a sender and a receiver, I can't escape a feeling that self expression is important independent of its reception.
° 02.05.08.we | plastic coconut bras
As I alluded to
earlier, I would not go out of my way to see a hula performance. When asked
what would constitute an authentic hula, I responded it'd be one in which no
one was there because of money. As part of the events this week Nora and I did
have the opportunity to see a performance at a banquet. The guys doing the slap
and fire dances were great, but the adulation of perfect femininity and the
coconut bras made me feel as awkward as I expected.
Last night Nora and I went to a fabulous Thai restaurant with women dancing in the traditional form. This place was classy but my thoughts again were unsettled when a table of annoying tourists shouted, "take it off." The dancer held her smile and continued her performance. Nora echoed my own thoughts when she said she'd actually rather be a stripper than one of the Hula or Thai dancers. Somehow that dynamic would feel more empowering; perhaps it's because even though the exchange of money for service (e.g., attention) is more explicit, the woman also has more control of on whom to spend her attention?
I don't want to deprive the performers of their livelihood, nor deprive myself as an opportunity to learn about other cultures. But somehow, sitting in the privileged position of the one being "served" a commodified culture reeks. It's a puzzle, like how images of topless Hawaiian women from centuries ago, and the plastic likeness of uncomfortable coconut bras imposed on them by Christian missionaries both serve to exoticize, commodity, and sell the indigenous female body/identity.
° 02.05.03.fr | hula
"it's there that no one will stare at your jaws and your long fur, the claws in your fingers
its the past when the passerby laughed at your strange way of speaking your batteries leaking
oh no" - rasputina
When I dance in dark smoke filled dens of lace and latex, I hula. I sing the words and evoke the song's narrative via gesture. I close my eyes and imagine myself in a story. I always thought this potentially silly and worthy of a snicker — particularly if the sound were to cut out and leave my voice alone on the floor. But, sometimes I am a large, battery driven teddy bear.
However, I've learned that many of the Polynesian and Asian dances are narrative as well. So I suppose it can't be that silly? I don't know, what are you supposed to think about when you dance?
Regardless, I'm off to Hawaii today. I won't see any real Hula unless it's a part of a reception. Yes, it's time for the "thousand meeting week" again. I certainly can't complain of the location, but Hawaii isn't always what one might think. Last time, in Waikiki, I had a cruddy time: expensive, touristy, no veggie food, and boring. However, on my last day of that trip I left Waikiki's confines and enjoyed myself on the south shores of Oahu. I swore that if I ever came back, I'd do the trip right.
So while there's many meetings and three presentations for me to worry about, Nora is coming and I'll be there with the gang from the W3C. So I hope the week of meetings won't be too bad, and afterwards Nora and I are headed for the garden island of Kauai.
° 02.05.02.th | your lips
In a phone booth
in a New York coffeehouse I saw a flier that read, "Your lips are better than
Angelina Jolie's lips." I loved it. I'm fond of pithy pronouncements; if I
could, I'd write all of my prose as haiku. If I had needed an excuse to have
found punk and zines compelling, I would've required nothing more than the
titles of albums and zines. Ally Picard, author of the zines Word and
Middle Name is a favorite source of terse poetry, "i brush my teeth
sideways" appears in a list of daily chores, "shadows of people i love" is an
annotation on smudgy xeroxed images of silhouettes. Lovely.
° 02.05.01.we | happy law day!
"Few Americans realize that the seemingly foreign celebrations of labor held worldwide on May 1st actually commemorate historical events here in the United States."
My brother sent me an email, "I hope are enjoying 'Law Day' and 'Loyalty Day'. My calendar was printed by the VFW, can you tell?" I provide an excerpt from May Day in the USA: A Forgotten History below:
During the late 19th century, while corporate power was growing at an unprecedented rate, American workers faced a political and legal system that failed to recognize even the most basic rights of workplace safety, community sanitation, and child protection, let alone the right to organize and strike. On May 1st, 1886, the American Federation of Labor declared a national strike to demand an eight-hour work day and 350,000 workers across the country responded.
In particular, the city of Chicago was virtually paralyzed; railroads, stockyards, and other businesses were forced to close. Two days later, police fired randomly into crowds of fleeing strikers, killing four and wounding many more. Angry workers began to call for armed retaliation.
The next day, when police attempted to disperse a peaceful rally in Haymarket Square, a bomb was tossed into their midst, wounding nearly 70 officers, some mortally. Again firing randomly into the crowd, police wounded another 200 citizens, killing many. With no clues as to the source of the bomb, police arrested eight revolutionary labor leaders, seven of whom had not even been present in Haymarket at the time. In the absence of any evidence linking them to the bomb, the "Chicago Eight" were tried solely on the basis of their political beliefs. All eight were sentenced to death; most were eventually executed...
In 1947, amidst the anti-Communist Cold War hysteria, the U.S. Veterans of Foreign Wars renamed May 1st "Loyalty Day" and a joint session of Congress later made the pronouncement official. Loyalty Day was explicitly designed as a weapon against leftist labor tendencies, and specifically the American Communist Party, by encouraging citizens to reaffirm their commitment to the State. The right of citizens to join legal political parties of their own choosing without harassment was apparently not an American value to be celebrated on this holiday.
During the 1950s, Loyalty Day flourished at the expense of traditional May Day events. For example, the Loyalty Day parade in New York City, one of the largest in the nation, was designed to lure citizens away from the long-standing Union Square rallies and to distract attention from the Communist Party march on the same day. Ten years later, however, the association of such parades with support for the American war in Vietnam led to a drastic decline in public participation across the land. Nevertheless, despite this waning interest, these conservative holidays actually succeeded in their objective; for if Loyalty Day has now been all but officially forgotten, so too has the historic significance of May Day.
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