In which I shamelessly abuse the internet.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Hugo Chavez
Hey, have you guys ever heard of Hugo Chavez? He's the president of Venezuela?
Chavez won his presidency in a free election in 1998 with 60% of the vote. The working people like him because he is trying to put control over more of the country's wealth back into the hands of the people. The American government supported a failed coup against him in 2002, right after he was elected, and now there is a propaganda campaign against him in the american media.
I myself was wondering about what kind of a leader he has turned out to be. I'm still not sure he was totally genuine, but he seems to inspire strong, real emotions resembling love in the venezuelan people, something I can't possibly imagine any other leader in the world, with the exception of Nelson Mandela, of course, doing. I talked to my friend Ingrid, who is from Colombia, about him. Her parents are in Venezuela now. I'd just seen a short news bit on him on the BBC News, (channel 26 at 10pm every day of the week, for you Chicago people) that said he is trying to keep foreign investors out of the country as much as possible. He believes that this is the new way powerful countries conquer other, smaller ones: By getting their greedy fingers in control of their industries and fucking up the country's economy, polarizing the classes and making them dependent on the big guys. He is 100% right on the money, so to speak. By foreign investors and businessmen, he is of course referring to rich American people- they who acquire new territory in the same way they run a Kentucky Fried Chicken Franchise. I can't wait until countries start getting renamed after all our dopey corporations. Then I will at last be able to root for apocalypse conscience-free. Anyway, I asked Ingrid about this kind of idealism, and she expressed a dislike for Chavez. She thinks that the people in Venezuela don't have the capabilitity for taking control of and running their own industries. I guess we'll see.
Here is this other guy's opinion on Chavez, in case anyone else is wondering if he's really a good leader. I want so hard to believe that he is.
Here is another person in whom I would love to have faith: Barak Obama. Read his speech transcript from the democratic national convention on my friend Jesse's Blog!
Chavez won his presidency in a free election in 1998 with 60% of the vote. The working people like him because he is trying to put control over more of the country's wealth back into the hands of the people. The American government supported a failed coup against him in 2002, right after he was elected, and now there is a propaganda campaign against him in the american media.
I myself was wondering about what kind of a leader he has turned out to be. I'm still not sure he was totally genuine, but he seems to inspire strong, real emotions resembling love in the venezuelan people, something I can't possibly imagine any other leader in the world, with the exception of Nelson Mandela, of course, doing. I talked to my friend Ingrid, who is from Colombia, about him. Her parents are in Venezuela now. I'd just seen a short news bit on him on the BBC News, (channel 26 at 10pm every day of the week, for you Chicago people) that said he is trying to keep foreign investors out of the country as much as possible. He believes that this is the new way powerful countries conquer other, smaller ones: By getting their greedy fingers in control of their industries and fucking up the country's economy, polarizing the classes and making them dependent on the big guys. He is 100% right on the money, so to speak. By foreign investors and businessmen, he is of course referring to rich American people- they who acquire new territory in the same way they run a Kentucky Fried Chicken Franchise. I can't wait until countries start getting renamed after all our dopey corporations. Then I will at last be able to root for apocalypse conscience-free. Anyway, I asked Ingrid about this kind of idealism, and she expressed a dislike for Chavez. She thinks that the people in Venezuela don't have the capabilitity for taking control of and running their own industries. I guess we'll see.
Here is this other guy's opinion on Chavez, in case anyone else is wondering if he's really a good leader. I want so hard to believe that he is.
Here is another person in whom I would love to have faith: Barak Obama. Read his speech transcript from the democratic national convention on my friend Jesse's Blog!
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Hoofing It
I've been riding my bike to work everyday lately because I just got the thing fixed, but before that I was walking home in order to try to save a little bit of cash from the CTA. They just raised the fare again, so now five bucks can only get you 2 rides.
I was walking on the bike path along the lake. It takes about two hours, give or take. I have the odd ability to read and walk at the same time, something that is pretty much essential when you are trying to ignore all the energetic yuppies playing their after work volleyball game or talking on their cell phones whilst rollerblading. Scoot scoot scoot. From a distance there are hundreds of volleyballs popping over the artificial horizon line the web of nets create, and as you walk by the games the popcorn metaphor that comes to mind is reinforced by the popping sound made by the perpetual clapping coming from one game or another when the ball falls out of play. I gave myself a bit of a giggle when I imagined all the volleyballs suddenly turning to solid stone in mid air, cutting the projected arc short as gravity yanked them all straight to the ground. I could hear the cries of surprise and pain as this or that well toned, kenneth-cole-sunglassed day trader made a desperate dive to save the ball for the team.
On one of these walks home, at one of the sailboat piers, I saw fish in the lake for the first time like ever. The sky was purple and filled with thick, solid clouds because it was about to rain, so I was trying to walk kind of fast, but I couldn't keep myself from standing there and staring into the water at them. They were HUGE. I have no idea what kind of fish. Maybe goldfish, because one of them was the color of rust. They were hanging out about three feet below a scummy island of trash that had collected in the corner of one of the docks. There were wine bottles, empty bags of chips, beer cans, and thousands of cigarrette butts bobbing in the lazy waves, left in the water by the seasons upper echelon enjoying the summer evenings in their boats safely at dock. As I watched a mallard even waded through the muck, testing out little pieces of unidentifiable human castoff for edibility. I've lived in Chicago for 7 years and the first time I see fish in the lake is under a floating island of garbage. Isn't that awesome?
I'm on my bike now so I can't really read while I commute anymore, whichi is kind of a bummer. So far this summer I read Hell's Angels, by Hunter Thompson, Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami, and The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath. Suicide was a major theme in the last two books. Hm. And Sylvia Plath actually comitted suicide, like, a month before that book was published. It's sad.
But I do get to listen to music while I ride. I secure the headphones over my face with the strap of my helmet, so it looks like I'm wearing a football helmet. Lots of people smile at me when I ride by them, except for when I also where my secret agent rear-view-mirror sunglasses and a dust mask, too.
But I'm getting sick of my music. I need some more. Any suggestions? I like all kinds of stuff.
But I still miss walking a little... Owell. There are good things and bad things for everything.
I was walking on the bike path along the lake. It takes about two hours, give or take. I have the odd ability to read and walk at the same time, something that is pretty much essential when you are trying to ignore all the energetic yuppies playing their after work volleyball game or talking on their cell phones whilst rollerblading. Scoot scoot scoot. From a distance there are hundreds of volleyballs popping over the artificial horizon line the web of nets create, and as you walk by the games the popcorn metaphor that comes to mind is reinforced by the popping sound made by the perpetual clapping coming from one game or another when the ball falls out of play. I gave myself a bit of a giggle when I imagined all the volleyballs suddenly turning to solid stone in mid air, cutting the projected arc short as gravity yanked them all straight to the ground. I could hear the cries of surprise and pain as this or that well toned, kenneth-cole-sunglassed day trader made a desperate dive to save the ball for the team.
On one of these walks home, at one of the sailboat piers, I saw fish in the lake for the first time like ever. The sky was purple and filled with thick, solid clouds because it was about to rain, so I was trying to walk kind of fast, but I couldn't keep myself from standing there and staring into the water at them. They were HUGE. I have no idea what kind of fish. Maybe goldfish, because one of them was the color of rust. They were hanging out about three feet below a scummy island of trash that had collected in the corner of one of the docks. There were wine bottles, empty bags of chips, beer cans, and thousands of cigarrette butts bobbing in the lazy waves, left in the water by the seasons upper echelon enjoying the summer evenings in their boats safely at dock. As I watched a mallard even waded through the muck, testing out little pieces of unidentifiable human castoff for edibility. I've lived in Chicago for 7 years and the first time I see fish in the lake is under a floating island of garbage. Isn't that awesome?
I'm on my bike now so I can't really read while I commute anymore, whichi is kind of a bummer. So far this summer I read Hell's Angels, by Hunter Thompson, Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami, and The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath. Suicide was a major theme in the last two books. Hm. And Sylvia Plath actually comitted suicide, like, a month before that book was published. It's sad.
But I do get to listen to music while I ride. I secure the headphones over my face with the strap of my helmet, so it looks like I'm wearing a football helmet. Lots of people smile at me when I ride by them, except for when I also where my secret agent rear-view-mirror sunglasses and a dust mask, too.
But I'm getting sick of my music. I need some more. Any suggestions? I like all kinds of stuff.
But I still miss walking a little... Owell. There are good things and bad things for everything.
Monday, July 19, 2004
I took the metra train in from the suburbs today because I went out to visit the P's and I was too lazy to go home last night. It filled up pretty quick but nobody wanted to sit next to me, and the conductor didn't ask me for a ticket. It was kind of like being invisible, which is what I usually want to be when I have to take a train full of crazy commuters and wailing babies. Actually, usually I wish I were in another dimension where everything is covered in soft grass and nobody says stupid, moronic things like "That girl's ass was sweet!" or "Who's a baby? Who's the baby boy? Who's the baby boy?" So, anyway, that saved me five bucks, and I figure that's the universe's way of telling me that I'm going to need five bucks at some point in the near future, which means I have to carry it around with me and not spend it, which is going to be pretty difficult considering I'm practically flat broke.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
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