But, My Heart… by Cathleen Ferose

A friend found words that express my heart so well on this whole issue. Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, and so many others. Remember them, yes. But unless we do far more, there will be far more names to remember. Racism and hatred- especially the institutionalized sorts- have to go, and soon.

I waited, on the stairs inside my house, with my phone
With my son
For the verdict to go down
For the man who “stood his ground” and killed Trayvon Martin
He was acquitted, as you know
My son, pleaded with me why,
How could they do that?
And some weak joke about Florida justice wouldn’t cut it

This is my America
My country, tis of thee, sweet land of
Sweet land of
Sweet land of
I can’t sing

You see, my eyes might be blue,
and my hair some shade of blonde
But, my heart

When the elderly Mrs. Harn’s taught me in Sunday school class
When I was too young for school
“Jesus loves the little children, all of the children of the world, red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight”
My heart believed that
When my classmate Kimberly called the school janitor a nigger in first grade
I sat there, as if time stopped.
I saw his face, the tear that formed in his eye, as he turned his head away
I felt his pain.
When I turned back to my classmate
I did not look at her as the same little girl
In pretty dresses
And fixed hair
Because Kimberly didn’t see John as he picked up after us
Did chores while whistling
Or fix things around our school
She took offense at what
His creator gave him

That was taught to her

My parents
Forgot to do some things most do
They never identified a person by their race
 That I can remember.
So when I saw John, I saw him.
Oh, I knew he had that nice ebony skin,
The kind that didn’t burn, like mine,
But I saw him.
Might be the same reason that I was half way through a year of teaching my first period class
Before I noticed that whites were in the minority
There were all races sitting in my classroom
But they were my beloved students, not labels

Hashtag
Hands up, Don’t shoot
Hashtag
I can’t breathe
Hashtag
If they gunned me down
Hashtag
If I die in police custody

When I hear those words,
Those cries
The fear that my fellow citizens have
Living in the land of the ----
It becomes my fear and those cries belong to the faces of people I know

It’s the young man who is such a good friend to my son
It’s the young men that I will see dressed in suits in debate competition this weekend
My students sitting in my classroom
Those on the sports field and in the gym
It’s my friend’s nephews
That one who plays in the band at church
It’s a college student named Xavier at UT
Who is a son to me

It is not us and them It is not black and white
It is us, we, together
It is not Black History month, it is our collective history
When are we going to stop the madness?
Let us tell the truth.
We sing their songs. They are our songs
And watch them play sports on our teams
They are our neighbors, our co-workers, our friends, and perhaps family
We’ve read their books, our books
And admired their achievements in fields from science to politics
And consider that American progress

And yet
For them, their America, our America
Still isn’t a land of liberty

Until a person will be judged By the content of their character
And not the color of their skin
It. Will. Not. Be.
Martin knew what he was talking about

Sometimes I look around and think that I am in the minority
Feeling out of place
Knowing I’ll raise my voice anyways
And I will hold out my hand
My white hand
In their struggle
In our struggle to find the soul of this country
 America in 2015

You see, my eyes might be blue, And my hair some shade of blonde
But, my heart…

 

Of Football, Nuclear Physics, and Children

The US football season is almost here! Do y'all know how excited I am?

Here's a clue. Think of the distance between a proton and a neutron^[1] in a helium atom. That distance is much bigger than my excitement.

 

NOTES
[1] This assumes a simplistic view of a proton and neutron as if they were, indeed, simple physical particles with fixed, measurable surfaces.^[2] The reality, of course, is that each of these is more like a three year old's birthday party, made up of an indeterminate number of children powered by fusion reactors and exhibiting random velocity Brownian motion, sometimes moving completely through walls as if said walls were not there, and into the neighbor's yard, the middle of the street, or the swimming pool two blocks away.
[2] Yes, you may assume that I generally find science (and children) infinitely more exciting than most team sports.

R.I.P., Scourge of the Net

Years ago, when the net was very young, before there was a world wide web, there was usenet.

Out at the far end of usenet, intended as a walled off ghetto, there was a rather bizarre hangout called, fittingly, talk.bizarre, or tDOTb. The people who set it up saw it as Obi Wan saw Mos Eisley- a wretched hive of scum and villainy. We simply saw it as home. We ranged from people who fit no mold, to people who broke molds (seldom on one another's heads), to people who smelled like mold, to people who ate mold.

It was fun. It was weird. It was brilliant. It was creative. It was stupid. It was a lifeline. And sometimes it was brutal.

Most of the brutality wasn't that brutal and was aimed at stupidity. But occasionally (as can happen anywhere) someone with serious problems showed up.

One college student (let's call him Kltpzyxm^[1]) in particular stood out. Kltpzyxm came off as a troll, but over time he managed to make a lot of other trolls look good. He could be brilliant and witty, but he could also be nasty. He loved to play games; he would start acting nice to you, maybe even email you and draw you in, then stab you in the eye with an ant-covered stick.

And not just in talk.bizarre. He did this in respectable groups as well, where people innocently discussed things that mattered to them.

Kltpzyxm apparently went on to have a successful life in the real world. He married and had kids. He dropped off the radar.

He recently drowned off the coast of Hawaii.

From what I hear third hand, he was probably a good husband and dad. I hope so. I hope his family has good memories.

How do the people of tDOTb remember Kltpzyxm? (These are the short versions, not the actual quotes.)

• "Kltpzyxm tried to get me banned from the systems I posted on [over something ridiculously innocuous -ed]"
• "Kltpzyxm tried to get me fired."
• "Kltpzyxm publicly attacked my family and me on my wedding day."
• "Kltpzyxm made false accusations to my department head and nearly ruined my academic career."

(There was also the endless, day to day nastiness that grates on the nerves.)

Yes, those quotes are truly representative of how he acted. People reached out, tried to help him. He played nice til they believed he was changing. Then he whipped out the ant-covered skewer. As NJ summed it up on the Facebook tDOTb page:

"My recollection of him is as a progenitor of the Internet troll, and his legacy in that regard is well-represented on 4chan and in Gamergate. I assume, or perhaps merely hope, that his family and friends experienced some brighter side of him than he chose to present in his youth, and that their memories of him are fonder than ours."

Life isn't about leaving a legacy, but we all leave one. Hopefully there is far more to him than this, but this is the part of his legacy I know first hand (I remember when the incidents referenced above were happening).

I don't wish death on anyone, much less for a family to go through this.

I'm sad- for him and for his family. But to be honest... I don't miss him. I hope the guy I knew died a long time ago and a much nicer guy emerged as Kltpzyxm. I hope he left a much better legacy than the one the tDOTb community knows.

 

1. Bonus points to anyone who gets the reference!

Could tonight get any worse?

Some of my friends and family tend toward the dramatic. Almost three years ago one of them posted on Facebook, "Could tonight get any worse?" While I realized their pain was real, I was able to look more at the forest than the saplings.

Yes. You could wake up in a tub of ice to find that your kidneys were intact but someone had tattooed "I am da BOMB" on your belly in highly reflective paint. You would be arrested any time you tried to fly.

Yes. You could wake up in a tub of ice to find that your kidneys were intact but someone had replaced your skeletal system with cheap, imitation Silly Putty[tm] (adding insult to injury).

Yes. You could wake up in a tub of ice to find that your kidneys were intact but someone had replaced your right foot with a second left foot, making dancing awkward.

Yes. You could wake up in a tub of ice.

It could pretty much always be worse.

But it almost never is.

Made in Japan in 1972 (in Texas (Today))

I'm not usually a music critic (though I played one in college for the Georgia Tech "Technique"). I would much rather find something I like and simply listen to it and ignore what I don't like. But every once in a while circumstances lead me to listen critically. Today you are blessed or cursed (depending on your viewpoint) with the results of such a confluence of events. (I have now met my quota of big words for this blog.)

Deep Purple's Made in Japan was released in the US a year after Machine Head provided them a breakthrough hit with the much played and much maligned "Smoke on the Water". By all accounts at the time the band was appalled that this song was their biggest hit. I always attributed Blackmore's less than stellar treatment of it on Made in Japan to this. Some sources now insist that Ritchie defended the song. I just know the guitar on this live version doesn't inspire me the way the album version does, and there are places he's much sloppier than anywhere else on this record. That said, I still love this version.

There are a couple of other things that keep this from being the perfect live album. The drum solo in "The Mule" goes on way too long. Gillan's vocals are a bit off in places on "Space Trucking" but the sheer energy helps make up for that.

Speaking of "Space Trucking" it's the longest song on an album drenched in ten minute songs, clocking in at just under twenty minutes, wandering between the roots of speed metal, thrash, and ... cello? I don't know how Blackmore got the cello sound, but it's brilliant.

I do have two more complaints. They're rather modern and absurd, but here they are:

• It should be longer (it was already a fairly long, double album).
• I really wish for video (apparently there isn't any).

As usual these guys play together as a phenomenal band, not just a bunch of great musicians. There are only a handful of bands I really kick myself for not seeing back in the day. These guys are at the top of the list for me, even ahead of Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd, and the Rolling Stones.

I don't know that I could pick a favorite track here. I suppose "Child in Time" and "Lazy" might have a slight edge. I do know this is one of my top ten live album picks. I can't narrow it down much more than that because I really suck at lists. It's right up there near Blue Oyster Cult's On Your Feet or On Your Knees and the Allman Brothers' Live at Fillmore East. That means it's in my top twenty album picks overall (probably still in the top ten as I tend to favor live albums).

What is/are one/some of your favorite live albums, and why?