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<font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
</span></font><p><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">"The history which bears and
determines us, has the form of war rather than that of a language:
relations of power, not relations of meaning."
Michel Foucault </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT">
</font></span></p>
<p><font color="black" face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 20, 2001<br>
Five hours of designing a web page yesterday. Five more trying
to get it launched. No luck. If I was smart I'd spend some time reading.
But I'm charging ahead. Ironic, since my contemplation for the week
is about power. That contemplation began on Sunday morning when I
read</span></font><font face="Bell MT" color="black"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font><a href="http://www.thenation.com/doc.mhtml?i=20010326&c=1&s=mccormack"><font face="Bell MT,Courier" color="black"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
this</span></font></a><font face="Bell MT,Courier" color="black"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> article in the Nation. I think all the stuff about
the election and Lynne Cheney is right on, but it hit a personal
chord for me. I think the fact that we grow up and are trained with
this western-civ notion of a narrative line that is told by the
winner gives us a confused relationship to power. Last week
on Oprah, Dr. Phil, who I think is an emotional fascist, led
the audience in this exercise, which I thought was interesting. He
had them hold hands in a kind of arm wrestling manner and each
person took turns pushing the other's hand to one side and saying
I'm right. It was fun to watch. We need to be right because we're writing
our narrative and we think someone in the narrative has to be
right. I'd like to shake that western-civ training. I'd like to try
to notice the meaning in my interactions and I'd like to be secure
enough in myself to not fight for position when I'm in relationship.
And in other power related issues, right now, I'd like to throw my laptop
out the window. But, I'm eating Pad Thai and trying again.</span></font><font face="Bell MT" color="black"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br></span></font></p>
<p><font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 21, 2001</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br>
</span></font><font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
I could probably have learned HTML in the time it has taken
me to put this together. Thanks to </span><a href="http://www.willa.com"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
Willa</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;"> for telling me to try cutting and pasting in smaller amounts.
It gave me the will to keep trying today. Reading her journal has been some
of the inspiration for this page. More thanks to tech support at DNAI.
If at first you don't succeed... and all that. I do think a
web site is a bit like a message in a bottle. Maybe all writing
is a message in a bottle. Unless you're Emily Dickinson.
</span></font><font color="#6600cc" face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font></p>
<div align="Justify">
<div align="Justify">
<font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 22, 2001</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br></span></font></div>
</div>
<p><font color="#663366" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
</span></font><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT">
</font></span><font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">My struggle to get the site up and perfect continues. But, it is up.
I now have a world wide forum, that is if any one clicks my way.
Suzanne said the site was radical. That shot my ego into over
drive! Suzanne has been reading web journals lately since
her </span><a href="http://www.windchimewalker.com/mitchells5.html"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> kids</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;"> were
featured in one. If we're on line at the same time we read them together.
So, I was standing in line at food for more, other wise known
as Whole Foods. I like to shop there because they have all that organic
food, the fish, meat and poultry is very fresh and hormone free
and they have a bakery and a deli. They buy locally. I just try to ignore
how much it all costs and I can only indulge that ignorance in
small doses. I shop at </span><a href="http://www.rainbowgrocery.org/"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> Rainbow</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;">
for more of my food. I like the collective and the prices and they
have great stuff but ... no meat. So, there I was buying my expensive
blueberry muffins and lamb chops. There was a magazine in a rack,
ASCENT
. It seemed like eye candy for people who are into yoga but I thought
I'd flip though it because there was an </span><a href="http://www.ascentmagazine.com/issues/09-valley.html"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
article</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;"> about Arundahti Roy and her battle to save the Narmada
River. I ended up adding it to the pile of things on which I should not have
been spending that much money.
It's a nice enough magazine. There is content in all
that gloss but things like this always work my sense of
irony. Even dissent and the support of dissent can be commodified.
It seems important to stay mindful, even as you hand over the
cash. I don't feel guilty but I am aware that I am privileged.
Not privileged in the go-ahead-spend-that-disposable-income sense.
I have no disposable income. (In fact, right now, I have no income.)
In the sense that I can buy a magazine and still pay my rent. So far. I've
read </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">The Cost of Living </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;">and </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">The God of Small Things, </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;">
both wonderful books. The pictures in the article touched my heart
and I wanted to be able to look at them. But there can be a quality
of the pornographic in this act.
There I was, in line in the halls of more than enough.
Even the feel of the quality of the paper the magazine is printed
on communicates something to me about who I am. And I'm looking
at pictures of people who are standing in the rising water that
has flooded their homes as a result of large dam building and river
diverting in India. I want to stay informed and I know that I have
choices in terms of how to stay informed. Reading glossy magazines
is not enough. There are links in the article for more information.
It's best to be mindful. I cooked the lamb last
night with roasted red peppers, shallots, garlic, kalamata olives
and balsamic vinegar. I served in a bowl with watercress and smashed
potatoes. </span><a href="http://www.photo.net/photodb/photo?photo_id=72722"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
Kara</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;"> came over for dinner. It was wonderful to spend time
with her and the food was good.</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
<br>
</span></font></p>
<div align="Justify">
<div align="Justify">
<p><i><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT">The only thing worth globalizing
is dissent. - Arundhati Roy</font></span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT">
</font></span></div>
</div>
<p align="justify"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font></p>
<div align="Justify"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 23 2001</span></font><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT"> </font></span></div>
<div align="Justify">
<font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">And so having positioned myself as a scribe I find I have not much to say.
Doesn't that suck? I'm still fighting with Netscape composer. I may need
to find a better WYSIWYG program or learn HTML. I kinda want to learn HTML
but I'm hyper about doing the writing. It does stimulate my brain to have
a box to fill. It's been fun to send out the flag to friends and get e-mail
back. </span><a href="http://www.steveconn.com"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> Steve</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;"> wrote and sent
a link to an article by his wife Molly. I tried to link to it but
the link changed once it was published. People ask the obvious question,
"what are you gonna do with your web site?" That is the question.
</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font><font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
If I try to be profound things will get really stupid, really fast.
I am hoping that having a reason to write will keep me productive. But there
are all the oddities of writing in a public space. And is this a public space?
I mean, really, who is going to read this? And then there's the reread that
I do after I publish it and see the grammar mistake that I did not intend.
It's nerve racking but in a good way. And then there is the fact that I have
time now since I have no job and am not in school. Will I still write here
when I have less time for virtual reality? And then...and then...and then...
I watched </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">Will & Grace</span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"> last night. There were
two fat jokes and the whole episode was about not being able to accept physical
difference (read ugly). Just when you think it's safe to go back into
the cultural pool. I must admit I laugh out loud at some of the stuff,
it can be very funny in very smart ways and the fat jokes are always
dumb. Grace was wearing a backless top featuring her extremely bony
back. I might not have noticed but I was already cranky from the first
fat joke and it seemed as if they were glamorizing her extreme thinness.
I always want to hope that I can watch television and relax. Nope. There
use to be shows that I loved and wouldn't want to miss. </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">Star Trek</span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;">
was church. Even the shows that I like these days do not inspire that
kind of loyalty. I like </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">The Practice</span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"> and I'm glad there is one
strong fat woman represented in a serious manner on television. But
her only love interest turned out to be a murderer and a really violent
crazy murderer at that. Now she has chosen to have a baby without the father's
support or participation. There was no development of their relationship.
It is as if the writers can't figure out how to write about her romantically.
And they have completely problematized her pregnancy. She had so much trouble
she had to appear on another Fox/Kelly show, </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">Gideon's Crossing</span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"> to
survive. I'm happy to see Camryn Manheim on as many shows as possible but
Suzanne told me that Camryn's pregnancy was problem free. Her character's
pregnancy suffers its writers and their inability to imagine a strong, fat,
healthy, woman. Suzanne, who is always perceptive and articulate in these
matters, says, "there are strong injunctions against portraying unruly people,
like fat women, enjoying all the benefits obedient people have."<br>
I am almost done with </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">Poisonwood Bible. </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;">I can hardly
put it down. This will end the African journey I began in December.
I read </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">Things Fall Apart </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"> by Chinua Achebe and </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">King Leopold's
Ghost </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;">by Adam Hochschild. I'm glad I read them before the Kingsolver.
She references a lot of history that I didn't know prior to reading
them. Of course when I told David what I was reading to go on my African
journey he gave me the names of three more books. But my journey was
waylaid by my </span><i><span style="font-size:12pt;">SIMS</span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;"> addiction and took so long to complete. Now
I think I need to shift my focus. As usual, for someone
with not much to say I have babble on.
</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br></span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font></div>
<p align="justify"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font></p>
<div align="Justify">
<div align="Justify">
<font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 24 2001</span></font><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT">
</font></span></div>
</div>
<p align="justify"><font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;">I had this funny little synchronicity yesterday. Adrienne was on
her way to pick me up and take me to the beach. I was reading an </span><a href="http://www.thesunmagazine.org/deanmoore.html"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
interview</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;"> with Kathleen Dean Moore, in </span><a href="http://www.thesunmagazine.org/"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
The Sun</span></a><span style="font-size:12pt;">, in which she talks about a thought experiment suggested by
the philosopher John Locke; the purpose of which is to define what is essentially
who we are. In Locke's experiment one is to imagine that you are your neighbor
and your neighbor is you in terms of physical qualities. So, if I were thinner
and shorter and had black hair would I still be me? Moore's, and perhaps Locke's,
conclusion is that you would still be you. In an absolute sense I agree but
I think there is a body/mind split in that reasoning. I think all of who
we are makes us who we are. The little scar on my finger reminds me of a
part of my story. Cutting my finger while cleaning a meat slicer at my first
job might not have shaped much of who I am but it has some play. Restaurant
workers will occasionally compare battle scars. And, my neighbor has the
kind of thin body that is privileged in our culture and I do not. I wouldn't
trade bodies with her because my fat body has taught me much of what I know.
But that's not what was interesting to me. My buzzer rang and I thought it
was Adrienne. I went to the bottom of the stairs and my neighbor was being
helped from a cab. She had crutches and a cast. My neighbor and I are polite
when we see each other but we have that kind of relationship that you often
have in the city. We are friendly and distanced. Occasionally I am annoyed
by noise from her apartment or someone from her apartment puts a bottle in
my recycling box, requiring me to carry it down the three flights of stairs.
But nothing that bothers me in any serious way. I had just spent two minutes
imagining that I had her body and she had mine and there she was with a wounded
body. I took the trash to the trash can and by the time I came back she was
gone. She gets up the three flights of stairs on crutches faster than I do
with out them. There is no epiphany here. I'm not bakin her a cake or anything.
I imagine that if I told her all this she wouldn't understand and might,
upon hearing that I had her body and she had mine, add a lock to her door.
If she were alone I might ask if she needed anything from the store but she's
not. There are ways in which the experience demonstrates a kind of connectedness.
It was kinda fun. Adrienne came and we went to Muir beach and had an afternoon
of great conversation. The drive there was influenced by my reading of the
article. The smell of eucalyptus as we drove through Muir woods reminded
me of my love for California, my longing to be part of it. We had a funny
lunch of smoked Gouda and lobster bisque in a tavern like place, the name
of which I can't remember. We stopped and bought fruit and roses from a roadside
stand and had cake and coffee at Just Deserts in the city. I finished Poisonwood
Bible before I went to sleep. </span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br></span></font></p>
<div align="Justify"><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt; letter-spacing:0;">March 25 2001</span></font></div>
<p align="justify"><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt; letter-spacing:0;">I was loving
doing the site but I was stuggling with the software. I kept thinking I
needed to learn HTML and I am still interested in doing that but I am having
too much fun with the writing and linking and blah blah blah. So, I bought
some WYSIWYG software, Namo. And what a relief. Having some ways to play
may bury me in page writing obsession but it's a little better than
my last addiction, The SIMS. Much thanks to Deb for driving me all over
San Francisco to find the software.She knows my obsessive nature</span></font></p>
<div align="Justify"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br>
March26,
2001</span></font><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT"> </font></span></div>
<p><span style="font-size:12pt; letter-spacing:0;"><font face="Bell MT">Having spent all
day Saturday reading help pages for Netscape and Microsoft Word, the two
programs I had built the site in, both of which were a struggle, and most
of the day Sunday trying to find new software that wouldn't be so miserable
I felt quite exhausted. There was a funny moment yesterday. Deb and I had
gone to Office Depot, Office Max and Costco. Finally we had parked in the
Mission and fifth parking lot and walked the four long blocks to Computown.
I was looking for Dreamweaver or Pagemaker by Symentec because they had
been recommended and/or I had read about them. Computown is filled with
very young men running around or standing around. All the ones I delt with
seemed to be unable to sustain interaction for more than two sentences.
I think they may have all spent a little too much time at the playstation.
One of them directed me to a cabinet in which there was a box with Dreamweaver
software. I started tugging at the door only to realize it was locked and
then I began looking for someone with a key until Deb broke through my frenzy
to point out the cost, four hundred dollars. You might think I woulda figured
that out by the fact that the door was locked. When I want something I can
be quite obtuse. Deb was there when I bought a fourteen dollar bar
of soap because I hadn't noticed how much it cost until I was in the check
out line and the clerk had to do a price check. At that point I was too
chagrined to not buy it. It has lasted four months so far and I contend
that good soap does last longer but I would not have paid that much if I
had noticed the cost earlier. Standing in front of the glass case in Computown
Deb only had to say, "this is like the soap." I continued the
quest, endured more hapless customer service and decided on the Namo software.
While we were there I showed Deb the site on one of the computers that they
have available for customers. I felt quite shy about leaving the site up
as we walked away. There is this whole self consciousness about who sees
the site. It's public space but the only people likely to find will be friends,
or friends of friends unless I join a web ring and even then I'd be in ring
of, theoretically, like minded folk. And why do I care who sees it? I spent
the rest of the day yesterday fussing over the site, trying to decide if
I like the frames. My sink is full of dishes. I haven't read the paper and
the want ads. What a crazy chick I am?! </font></span></p>
<div align="Justify"><font face="Bell MT,Courier"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br>
</span></font><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 27, 2001</span></font></div>
<p><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Yesterday morning I was listening to
</span></font><a href="http://www.democracynow.org"><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Democracy
Now</span></font></a><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">! on </span></font><a href="http://www.kpfa.org"><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">KPFA
</span></font></a><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">as is my habit. Amy Goodman's
familiar voice began the opening and suddenly there was the
sound of disruption. I can't say that any other way but suddenly
there was this problem and then the sound of the Bessie Wash,
the executive director, of
the board of Pacifica talking about an incident in Houston this
last weekend, where the board was meeting. The events, her version
and a version I heard later aren't what stayed with me.
What stayed with me was the fear that I felt when I heard the
sound of Amy's show being stopped. I love the show and it is
a major source of news for me but the fear was not the fear
of loss. It is difficult to imagine watching a major television
network and having the head of the network interrupt the program
to say we know that people who support a given cause may be
listening and we want to say to you ..etc. If it was a football
game that was interrupted there would be a riot. There are pressures on networks
that play out behind closed doors. Advertisers dictate content.
But this felt like 1984. This person used her power to overrule
programing. It was scary. There are ways to speak out about
this through </span></font><a href="http://www.savepacifica.net/"><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Save
Pacifica</span></font></a><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> and</span></font><a href="http://www.pacificacampaign.org/"><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
The Pacifica Campaign.</span></font></a><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> </span></font></p>
<p>
<font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 28, 2001</span></font><span style="font-size:12pt;"><font face="Bell MT">
</font></span></p>
<p><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">I woke up yesterday, went on my walk,
ate my cereal and a bagel, drank my coffee and got some laundry
in the washer and from the washer to the dryer. Suddenly I was
exhausted. I went back to bed and had a terrible nap. I never
did snap out of it. Later, I was on line looking for a job and went
to get an address from the </span></font><a href="http://www.thislife.org/"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">This
American Life</span></font></a><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> site. I decided
to peruse some of their site recommendations and found a site
called </span></font><a href="http://www.openletters.net"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
Open Letters</span></font></a><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">. At first glance
it seemed like a promising bunch of writing but it had stopped
publishing in November. I followed some of their links. One was to a page by a young woman in Canada.
I actually liked one of her rants, </span></font><a href="http://www.angelfire.com/me3/ramblings/useyourbrain.html"><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Use
Your </span></font></a><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Brain. It was fun to read
because it wasn't particularly good writing and it was written
from her view behind a service counter. I've seen things from
that view. But lots of the
links led to pages on which men write about wanting sex from
women and women not wanting to have sex with them. Or women
writing about wanting sex. There was just way too much gender
stupidity for me. Later a news woman, in a piece on an increase
in deaths from cancer for women, actually said that the women's
movement had made it OK for women to smoke. It all made me more
tired. The boxes with which we define our selves are too small.
Since I am already writing about things that made me cranky
I want to mention this article in the New York Times on Sunday.
The article was about problems with cloning but what bugged
me was the picture that was used to demonstrate the problems
It was a picture of two mice, one of which was fat. For me the
message was if we clone people we may not be able to control
the ways the genes express themselves. And terrible things will
happen, the worst thing will be that they may get fat. I tried
to link to the article but you have to have a password to get
to it. </span></font></p>
<font color="black" face="Bell MT,Arial"><span style="font-size:12pt;">"...explore the idea of what the lanquage that women
speak would really be if noone were there to correct them."<br>
--Helene
Cixous<br>
</span></font><p>
<font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 29, 2001</span></font><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">
</span></font></p>
<p><font color="black" face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;"> I got
a good nights sleep. First one in a week. I'm hoping that means
I'll be a bit more engaged today. This week has been the kind
of week that might have buried me in depression. Working on
the site has buoyed me in some ways. It's interesting to me,
the small hope that someone may read this keeps me thinking
about what I'm going to say. I think this reflects how much
I need acknowledgement and response. I'm not even embarrassed
by that, though I use to be. I am aware that lately I just seem
to need an excessive amount of acknowledgement. It seems as
if I am in this extended recovery from my college years. Keeping
things in perspective I know that it hasn't been that long and
I am feeling better and I am waiting to see if I get into grad
school. It's seems to be difficult for me to assess how I'm
doing since the measure of how I'm doing is always changing.
And, despite the fact that there may only be a few people reading
anything here, I feel as if it must be written well. And the
measure of that is also shape shifting. AH.</span></font></p>
<p><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">March 30, 2001</span></font></p>
<p><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Mumia has fired his attorneys. One
of them published a book about the case. I actually found it
kind of smarmy when OJ's lawyers published books and the case
was over when they did. The lawyer/author in interviews seems
oblique and feigns wounding; since he has worked so hard and
sees the book as an extension of the work. He characterizes
the world wide protest movement for Mumia as histrionic and
says the movement is to blame for a lack of main stream media
coverage of Mumia's case. He believes his book proves that Mumia
did not have a fair trail and may, in fact, be innocent. I guess
if you see the court room as a theater you may only want to
restage the play. If you see the court room as a site for social
justice you may position yourself less as a player and more as an advocate.
You may, for example, think it unseemly to publish a book when
you must enter the court room and be perceived as someone with
no vested interest.</span></font></p>
<p><font face="Bell MT"><span style="font-size:12pt;">I saw a rerun of an Oprah show on which
Carnie Wilson and others talked about their weight loss. Carnie
had a frantic, deer in the headlights look. She had surgery
to reduce the size of her stomach. Her description of yelling
at a candy bar seemed revealing. Carnie's body is one of those
bodies that was fat through out childhood. She says she began
dieting when she was twelve. I can't help but wonder about
the negative impact of early dieting on her health. The other
people on the show had lost weight through a combination of
diet and exercise. As they told their stories Carnie looked
tearful. People that create a life in which they exercise vigorously
and eat moderately make a choice about a way to be with their
bodies. These people seemed healthy and self contained. And
they weren't all that thin. In other words they have found a
way to be with their bodies. It is always a story that includes
running from the painful experience of being fat. To that extent
I think it's a self containment that can be toppled by weight
gain and is therefor not substantial. But, it was Carnie that
really broke my heart. She is running from something much deeper
and no doubt painful. And she resorted to a kind of mutilation
to give wings to her flight. </span></font></p>
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