GRE vocab word of the day: ambivalent

Recorded some video at work today. Here's some of it:

Raneicia and Alonzo playing with magnets

Jermayne writing and reading a story about Jermayne.

And my favorite,

"Oh! You can't be doin' that junk on her phone!"

A little while before we started playing with the cameras, one of the kids told me all about how he stays with his aunt now, (and his eight brothers and sisters, and his cousins,) because his mom has been in jail in Montgomery for seven years. He's nine.

Josh had a jarring experience today. Spending so much time hanging out and having fun with these kids makes it almost harder for me to really get some of the shit they deal with.

1+1=3

Arianne, Chris, Josh, Katharine Ann and I went to New Orleans this past weekend and stayed with Arianne's brother and his roommates (pictured above after dinner Friday night.) It was very cool, lots of good food and drinking and quality hang-out time.

Anyway, back to work Monday, where we're hanging out with a bunch of kids who are all targeted, and I use that word deliberately, by an abstinence-only campaign with the slogan "1+1=3?"

Our survey asks

Was the sex education you received in school worthwhile?
... I have not had sex education in school
... No
... Yes

Occasionally, I'll be reading to a particularly talkative bunch of kids who will have a few comments to make every question or so. One time, I had a kid ask "What's sex education?" and his friend answered, "It's the 1+1=3 people." The kid who had asked the question then marked that the sex ed was useful. Next question:

Have you ever had sexual intercourse? 'Sexual intercourse' means having sex with the male penis inside the female vagina. This is sometimes called 'going all the way.'
... No
... Yes

I swear, that's how the question reads. The same kid who didn't know that the 1+1+3ers were sex education didn't know what sex is. How useful is sex ed when kids come out of it not knowing what sex is? Well, he didn't know what "male penis inside the female vagina" is, but he's not a virgin. He answered that he usually does use a condom when he has sex and that his girlfriend is on birth control. You could probably argue that the kid was fucking with me, just acting like he didn't know, but I'm pretty certain from talking with him that afternoon that that wasn't the case.

To be fair, there are a lot of various reasons why the kid might have been unaware of what sexual intercourse means. But does the mysterious add-on that happens when 1+1 have to be guilt or regret? How about 1+1+love= 3, or even 1+1+orgasm=3? No?


Yikes.

buzz kill

When I was walking through one of the public housing developments the other day, I picked up this.



It's just a busted up video game controller, yea, but it also struck me as a cool symbol for the weird kind of poverty we're dealing with down here. The neighborhoods in which we work are some of the poorest in the country, and a lot of the living conditions are pretty gross. But it doesn't look like the poverty you see on TV.

(Thanks, Josh, for the photos that I took without asking!)

Can you imagine a sappy infomercial asking for money to feed the person who lives in the photo above? Or to fund his kids' education? No way. What's depressing about this job is that sometimes I get the overwhelming sense that some of these kids just don't have a chance. That doesn't mean they're not saturated in consumer culture, though, so they still want all kinds of goofy things. I mean, of course they do. They're kids, and that's allowed. One kid waiting for his friends to finish the survey the other day drew me this.


I won't pretend to be some kind of expert on poverty; just thought I'd say something about how this stuff is a little (a lot) fucked up.

See what I mean?

We saw this in one of the neighborhoods today. Gang graffiti? Probably not. Hilarious? Yes. Good for you, Ross. Nice one.

in defense of graffiti

One of the most interesting things to me ever is when people write on things that they're not supposed to. It's using literacy to rebel, and it's cool. I mean, it's really cool when graffiti voices some kind of political dissent, but I get just as excited about kids writing on the fill-in-the-bubble surveys we're administering as I do when I hear about the "more like homeland insecurity" that Melissa saw in Atlanta.

But today I'm getting the impression that I may be in the minority on this one. When I checked my email early this morning, I was excited to see that the National Geographic Photo of the Day is this:


The caption, however, reads,

Graffiti covers the side of a ship in one of Denmark's many harbors. Vandalism is rare in this exceptionally peaceful, orderly society where a mere 2 percent of the national budget is spent on police, prisons, and courts. A common saying in the patriotic nation holds that "Denmark is a land where few have too much and even fewer have too little," a fact that they attribute to keeping the crime levels low.

giving me the distinct feeling that the caption-writer thinks graffiti is bad; it's vandalism.

Later in the morning, as I waited for my medium black coffee at Moka's, the local coffee shop, I read an article on the front page of today's paper called "Mobile's wannabe gang problem." The two images in the story are of graffiti. (I couldn't find them online, so below are my photos of the photos.)



The first one really gets me. The caption assures us that "it does not indicate gang 'turf' or a warning to rivals." Um, yea. It says love. Repeatedly the article cites the existence or lack thereof of gang graffiti as a major indicator of whether or not gangs exist in Mobile. Although school officials "have linked some fights to territorial conflicts ... school walls aren't painted with gang graffiti, and [the security director for the school system] doesn't see students wearing gang colors." Don't get me wrong, I'm not downplaying the gravity of the issue of gangs. I just don't see how graffiti and bandannas can be the only evidence available for piecing together a conclusion. The second caption above concludes that "while [the tag] appears to be gang-oriented, it is actually the painter displaying his artistic ability with a spraypaint can." While I take issue with the assumption that the tagger is male, I sort of like how Officer John Young can get down with the idea of graffiti as art. I don't even really think that the second tag is that cool per se. What I do think is cool is the way that taggers use their ability to write as a a way to inscribe public space. It's just so bold. It makes a passer-by see what the tagger has to say, even if it's unpleasant.

Anyway, the survey we're administering asks the kids

Agree/Disagree: Kids who are in a gang get respect from other kids in my neighborhood.

How much do you worry about gangs in your neighborhood?

Have you ever been involved in a gang?

Are you currently involved in a gang?

Do you hang out with members of a gang?

Analyzing this data seems to me like a more reliable source of information about the state of gangs in Mobile than looking at the graffiti and scratching our heads, no?


They published this in TIME a bit ago:

40 ounce of Schlits Malt Liquer

Define shrimping.

It's what Bubba and Forrest and Lieutenant Dan from Forrest Gump do, right? Yes and no.

Since the 4th of July is rapidly approaching, and since we're in the South of the US, and since many of us will probably not have another extended stay down here, we want to do something super hillbilly-ish. We're stereotyping, yes. So we've been talking about going shrimpin'. It just sounds awesome. The thing is, we have no shrimpin' hook up, so last night I innocently typed "shrimping" into Google. I did not find a shrimpin' hook up, but I did find the Urban Dictionary definitions for the word, and I got the shock of a lifetime.

1. shrimping

To lick or suck on someone's toes.

I like to lay back and stroke my cock while Brandi is shrimping me.

2. shrimping

Even if you're gay you gotta be pretty stoney mchill to try this. It's the act following homosexual intercourse between two guys; after which the pitcher produces a bendy straw and proceeds to suck the mixture of shit and sperm from his partner's gaping asshole.

I caught Gary and Chaz shrimping in the bathroom last week...i threw up hxc style.

5. shrimping

It means to suck toes. If you do not believe so, then look up some old porn. There are titles that are named shrimping and they are about toe sucking. I own one such porn movie on VHS. Do not confuse feltching with shrimping. You will make those like myself that have a foot fetish angry....LOL

shrimping means to suck on someone's toes

6. shrimping

toesucking I know e'ryt'ing dere is to know about de shrimpin' bidniz.

8. shrimping

when one extremely flaming homosexual ejaculates in another's anus. then he proceeds to reclaim his "man juices" through some type of tubular suction device. most commonly used would be a straw., but twizzlers or thin pvc pipe work well too. (used by the gayest of men for etxra pleasure) those damn faries

Joseph aka the harbor master reclaimed what was righfully his by shrimping his dog. he was secretely gay and did not want anyone to know about it.

9. shrimping

After ejaculating into the rectum, consuming the foamy, pink-ish mixture of shit and splooge, which is rumored to taste somewhat like shrimp.

"Do you have any cocktail or tartar sauce? I want to go shrimping in your asshole."

11. shrimping

The act of catching shrimp.

She came from a whole family of shrimpers so she was quite good at it.

20. shrimping

To pleasure a woman by wiggling your toes in her clitoris region.

My friend Jimmy likes to go shrimping with his girlfriend.

21. shrimping

Small particles with shit veins. I like to stroke my little cock to something resembling life while gay wrestlers fist shrimp in my loose asshole.

25. shrimping

when 2 gay men put a dead rat in a sperm filled condom and stick it up each others butthole and pull it out with their mouth.

(1)"John Seeley of the Manchester Monarchs is a mad shrimper."
(2)"Dude, Seeley and Kanko shrimped all night long."
(3)"Where's the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins?" "I dont know, probably shrimping in the locker room."

Okay, and there are also several variations of the word shrimping. For example the second definition of shrimper is

2. shrimper

A shrimper is when One Person sucks the cum out anothr persons Ass Hole with a Straw.

This Faggot Named James Rhoton Once Gave a Shrimper to a Hobo, for a 40 ounce of Schlits Malt Liquer.

Urban Dictionary is a fascinating thing to me. I think what freaks me out the most is the sexist and heterosexist discourse that is obvious in these user definitions and that I've seen in previous visits to the site. These people are idiots.

My first sake

I went to dinner tonight with some friends to one of those Japanese restaurants where they cook the food right in front of you. Here we are:


It was a lot of fun and delicious, but it made me feel sort of weird. Melissa could tell that I was freaking out and kept laughing at me. I mean, the man who cooked our food was speaking to us with an accent similar to Mr. Yunioshi from Breakfast at Tiffany's. Come on. Since he is working as a chef in a Japanese restaurant, there is obviously a great chance that he is actually Japanese. That said, something about the whole thing seemed artificial, like it was for our entertainment. And then there's the pressure to be entertained by the charade. I don't know.

A curious sight

Today I saw a man with several naked women tattooed on his belly. (He had a big belly.) He even had two women having sex with each other on there. On his fat, sunburned belly. What's the deal with that? I mean, I don't even get it. Would these tattoos be comparable to porn in that by looking at them he would be turned on? But I mean, it's his own body. Naked female bodies on his male body.

It's just sort of interesting. Assuming that this guy is heterosexual, the tattoos would be an inscription of his sexual desire on his self. His heterosexuality becomes part of his appearance, and he quite literally makes a billboard of his body that skips right past the regular personal ad stuff like "DWM seeking attractive SWF" and gets straight to "I'm looking for some hot naked women who may or may not have sex with one other." Or maybe he's saving money on dirty magazine subscriptions. I mean, this way he has his own personal stash with him at all times. But who in the hell would want to have sex with a person who has sex emblazoned on himself? Literally. There's just something to be said for discreteness, no?

Again, that assumes heterosexuality. Maybe he was a gay man using his body as a medium for expressing solidarity with lesbian women.

One never knows.

Hello BAMA!

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried:

A Republican senator slugging a Democratic senator gave the Alabama Legislature a national black eye, much like happened eight years ago when the southern state's lieutenant governor urinated in a jug, discreetly, at the front of the Senate chamber.

Anyway, along the same lines, just a few points of note from last night. We just went downtown to get a few beers, and I swear to God I found this:


A war protest in Mobile, Alabama? Hell yes. I'm there. I found this flyer on a counter at the pizza place/bar where we were. Later in the night I met the guy who was passing them out, Walter. I was telling him that a couple of us were going to stop over on our lunch break since it's during work hours, but he said to stop by after work too because they'd probably be hanging out. Pretty cool. A war protest in the deep south. I also saw "IMPEACH BUSH" written on a bathroom stall, but I didn't have my camera with me at the time.

Okay, and check this out. On the way home we stopped at a gas station to get some beers, a gas station that sells single beers for $1 or so.


I've never seen this before. One (1) Keystone Light, please. And they also had this at the gas station:

What you see pictured here is a collage of still frames from the security camera of people stealing in that very gas station. At least one of them also shows a cop arresting an offender. Most of them have funny little notes written on them about the thief and/or what she/he was stealing. Now that's good.

??/??/????

I mentioned the surveys in a earlier post. We recruit kids from low and mixed income neighborhoods and ask them all kinds of questions about how they feel about themselves, their families and friends, their neighborhoods, their educations, their futures, and also some personal questions about their experiences with sex, drugs, alcohol, and violence. It takes about an hour and a half and at the end we collect the surveys and each of them gets $15. Pretty sweet deal. What happens, though, is that some kids decide that they could use another $15. And so beings the quest to outsmart us, get past our check-in system, take the survey again, and collect some more money. I mean, I don't blame them. Even if they don't trick us, it's something to do; if they do, it's something to do and $15.

Anyway, one way that kids think they're going to get past us is by giving the wrong name. i.e. Johnny will use his friend Jimmy's name. But we're on top of that. We ask a kid who's trying to check in to tell us her/his address, middle name, and birthday. We figure that the likelihood is not high that Johnny will know all that information about Jimmy.

The thing is, a lot of times, the kids really just don't know their own address, middle name, or birthday. The professor who's running all this talked with us a bit about this today. When you think about it, it makes a depressing amount of sense; it's the birthday stuff that especially gets to me though.

Why would these kids think that their birthday is something worth remembering if they've never had a birthday party, never gotten birthday gifts, never had a cake with candles to blow out? When I was of the birthday-party-having age, I remember that one of the best parts about the whole event was the feeling that that many people in my family thought that my birthday was important enough to have a party for. These days I'm not really much of a birthday person, and I'd really prefer not to be the center of attention, but there's still something cool about being wished a happy birthday, or even checking Facebook the day after.

So when I think about some of the reasons why an eleven year old kid might not know her/his birthday, it makes me sad. I just really hope that at least one day every year, somebody makes each of these kids feel cool and important the way that birthday parties made me feel cool and important when I was younger.

Jesus, Etc.

So Susan sent me a link to this really cool video yesterday:



There are two things I notice about it: (1) when I watch it and try to imitate the morphing women, I end up doing a robot-type dance, and (2) all of the women are white and most of them have eerily passive expressions on their faces. When I showed it to my roommate, Melissa, she thought the same thing (About my (2) at least. I didn't ask her about the robot thing.) Huh.

Then we got talking, somehow, about how Jesus gets artistically imagined. I can remember the first time I saw a painting of a Black Jesus. I was about ten, and I was at Swap-o-rama, a flea-market near where we live, with my dad. It freaked me out. It wasn't that I necessarily preferred seeing the white Jesus to which I'd grown accustomed in my religion books at school; more like, "Whoa. People can imagine Jesus looking millions of different ways."

Anyway, I Google Image searched Jesus, and these are some of the Jesus pictures that came up.






I think these two are particularly good stuff:

Who gives a rat's McAss?

Christopher Thompson wrote this article for TIME today about what's shaping up to be a "word war" this summer. McDonald's is pissed because Oxford English Dictionary currently defines the word McJob as "an unstimulating, low-paid job with few prospects, especially one created by the expansion of the service sector." They'd prefer that OED change the official definition to "reflect a job that is stimulating, rewarding ... and offers skills that last a lifetime." ...Word war? How about the real war/s?

I also came across this little tidbit on the BBC site. Pope Benedict, a critic of the world's "unbalanced use of energy," and of the environmental damage that makes "the lives of poor people on earth especially unbearable," is replacing the existing roof of an auditorium in Vatican City with a solar-paneled one. And here I thought the coolest thing about him was that he sort of looks like Monty Burns from The Simpsons!

It's a yes or no question.

The surveys that we're taking are purely quantitative. We survey as many people as we can reign in for each administration of it, and ask them to fill in the bubbles completely. Just like they do for the standardized tests, we say. But our participants do not always feel confined to the bubble system, apparently.

Q: Would you be able to have an honest and open discussion about sex with your mother or father?

A: No / maybe later when I'm older

Q: What person is most like a father to you? (MARK ONLY ONE ANSWER.)
A:... My brother / my fathers dead he luves me =)

I think this is pretty cool. There are quite a few more examples of this kind of scrawled note to the researcher, although surveys with written responses are certainly a minority. Sometimes I get the sense that the participant desperately wants to explain her/himself, or somehow apologize for the bubbled answer. Other times, the indecisiveness is nearly tangible. Who can decide if they plain agree or plain disagree with something like "My opinions are often influenced by others"? Where's the "It depends on who 'others' is" bubble?

In other news, I got a package from my parents today. Some of the highlights of what Mom included are flavored tea and new underwear. Dad threw in Dr. Scholl's gel inserts because he likes to ask me, "Hey Ellen, you gellin'?" I like it, too. My parents are great.

Damn teenagers!

At the beach today, I could not concentrate on relaxing because I was straining to hear the conversation going on behind me. It went something like this:

Lady 1: You know, this beach was never like this twenty-five years ago. I never came here then. it was nothing like this with all the families. It was all teenagers. This is great.
Lady 2: Hm.
Lady 1: Yea, all those teenagers. But the police [pronounced POlice] cleaned it up. No more glass; no more alcohol. You see those signs? [Points to sign that says "No glass. No alcohol."]
Lady 2: Hm.
Lady 1: It says no alcohol. So now none of those teenagers are around. See that patrol man? Here he comes.
[Police vehicle drives by.]
Lady 1: They're making sure those teenagers over there aren't doing anything. That's a good thing.
Lady 2: Hm.
Lady 1: Those teenagers right there. Making sure they're not drinking or anything like that.
Lady 2: Hm.

Is it me, or does Lady 1 have a particular aversion to teenagers?

G + K (+ tropical setting) = cool. and folk art is cool, too.

This is the National Geographic Photo of the Day for today:



Pretty cool. The Photo of the Day site says that

Roads on Hawaii’s Big Island are often flanked with miles of "Island graffiti," like this love note. Instead of spray paint though, bits of white coral harvested from local beaches are arranged into messages, which seem to glow against the island's black lava expanses.

But tourists beware: Removing the coral from beaches is illegal. And disturbing an already-posted message is considered rude and supposedly brings bad luck.

I like that you can almost see another message in the distance, which sort of substantiates the claim that there are "miles" of this stuff. I wonder what they mean by "tourists beware" though. Does that mean that local people are allowed to move the coral from the beaches? And does mentioning that messing up an existing message is "rude" aim to stop said tourists from creating their own messages with the coral that said locals have already, lawfully, moved?

Maybe there's another interpretation. Either way, me likey.

This afternoon I went to the Coastal Artisans' First Saturdays Art Market in downtown Mobile. I met Ruth Robinson, a local folk artist who walked me down the street to a gallery to see more of her work. Her biography says, "I grew up on a farm in Grand Bay, Alabama, where my grand daddy farmed until the day he died. We had cotton, watermelon, corn, hogs, chickens, cows, and a mule." The house she grew up in was a brick house, one that her grandfather built for his family in the 1930s. Not a small feat for a former sharecropper who worked his way up to buying the land from the planter. Anyway, here's a picture of Ruth with some of her pieces.