not tonight

The lights have gone out in Caloocan City.
You'll need to tell them.       Tomorrow
Would be a good day.  You need to say, "There is no God
In Caloocan City, not tonight."

While we slept, God got torn apart—
Not north by south or state by state, or even zip code
By zip code.  No,    God got torn apart neighborhood
By neighborhood, house by house, apartment

By apartment.  But really, it was life
By life, sifted out by the parties they attended
To.      You could ask them to remember the radio–
How it tried so hard to find the middle,

But no one had the mindset.
So they said they didn't have the money.
They said, "The churches will save the slums–
Go back to bed."      But

The lights have gone out in Caloocan City.
You need to tell them.      Tomorrow
Would be a good day.

here we go

Sorry, blogspot, I've been away for awhile. Don't take it personally, it's just that I've learned pretty much everything you have to teach me for now, and it seemed time to move on and explore strange new worlds. There are so many. Edublogs is where I've been working and playing lately; please don't be jealous.

Feeling challenged and excited, I click on words and icons, follow drop down menus
to wherever they might lead, and just, you know, try stuff. I am obsessed with learning, with unlocking the mystery. When failure comes, I try something else.
It is this kind of curiosity and courage, more than anything else, that needs to be developed in young students.

On the corner of Lancaster Drive and Hayesville Avenue, there was a little store. It must have had a name, but I don’t remember it. All I remember is that we called it “The Little Store”. It was where my friends and I bought Charleston Chews and candy cigarettes with the cash we would get in exchange for the cans and bottles we had collected from our neighbors. It was the place where, a day or two before payday when the cupboards were bare, my single mother would purchase hot dogs and buns on credit. Mr. Frey always knew she’d be back in a day or two, when she would pay off her bill and buy a few more items. And he knew where we lived. And I still remember his name.

And so, in memory of The Little Store, I have named my project The Little School. Because community matters. Because smaller is better. Because "Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted." (Albert Einstein) Because I can.

Because I have to.

The Little School Project: Tava Mountain Middle School

coming soon to a neighborhood near you

earth hour

gratis grains

there's art now!
and chemical symbols!
and multiplication facts!
and italian!

but my favorite is still vocabulary.

go and play

let me know how many grains of rice you donated today

wish i were here.....

sort of. The Democratic National Convention is taking place a mere hour's drive away, in Denver. Just in case you didn't know. Some people don't. A LOT of people don't. Which surprises me.

Anyway, some people I know WERE there over the weekend. Here are some pics.





More pics here

And video:

flea lice

Myanmar. China. Two good reasons to play this game. As if there weren't enough already.

I usually make it to about level 40-42, but I never play longer than about 600 grains of rice or so at a time. I like the fact that if you miss one, it will eventually come back to it so you get the chance to get it right. Tonight I learned that a proem is a preface. I like that it's the word "poem" but with an "r" in it. I'd like to write a proem for a poem.

Re: The title of this post-
Everytime I think about "Free Rice", I hear it with a Chinese accent, so it always comes into my head (no pun intended) as

"Flea Lice"

So play. Let me know what level you made it to. Tell us how many grains of rice you donated. And try not to think too much about whether or not it will all get to where it needs to go.

One last thing: it really is much more fun if you play it WITH someone!

wish i were here.....

Smoke some good weed (or not), relax in your favorite chair, and enjoy this show!

La Noche de los Rabanos ("Night of the Radishes" for those of you who are illiterate in Spanish-shame on you!) occurs every year in the Zocalo in Oaxaca City, Mexico on December 23rd. Folk artists come from all over the state of Oaxaca to carve elaborate sculptures made entirely from radishes. Local folk and a few turistas wait in line for hours for a chance to see them. The gawking procession around the Zocalo lasts from sundown until the wee hours of the morn, until the last person has had a chance to view the radish extravaganza.

2007 marks the 110th anniversary of this event. John and I were there in 1997 for the 100th. I can honestly say I've never seen anything else like it in the world. It's such a surreal event that even Diego Rivera was moved to capture the essence of it.

More info:
"The radishes are not the little red round ones so prevalent in the United States. They are thick, long and cylindrical, measuring up to 20 inches in length and weighing up to seven pounds each. They grow into contorted shapes with multiple appendages. This grotesque outcome proves inspirational to the carvers, who are often forced to react creatively to what they have at hand. This gives an improvisational feel to many of the works. If the sculptures were music, they would be jazz."

Now if that doesn't prompt you to watch the show, I don't know what would.

I'm not sure how they greet one another on the plaza tonight in Oaxaca, but Happy Radish Night to you all!

the story of stuff

This story came to me from three different directions within as many days, so I figured it was a sign. It has a message without being preachy. It's funny and serious simultaneously. What it is, really, is brilliant. Accessible to all.

Anyway.... here is The Story of Stuff.

You may think you have nothing left to learn about how we extract, produce, distribute, consume, and dispose in this country, but watch it anyway. It's 20 minutes well-spent. I promise.