Babel: The multilingual, multicultural online journal and community of arts and ideas

Did you ever wake up in the morning walked on the bathroom, opened the tap only to find a brown sandy substance to come out of it? At those times you would wish to have your own water treatment plant. Now you can have it. Although it probably looks different than you would expect: a big brown trunk with a green ecosystem on top of it. Am not talking about a chemical plant but about moringa oleifera (Drumstick).

The Drumstick tree is known as ‘mother’s best friend’ in some parts of East Africa, an indication that local people know all too well the value of this tree. It is a drought resistant, fast growing tree, which is very useful in Arid and semi arid areas where access to clean water is a major problem and people there cannot afford to buy purified water.

This tree species originally came from India. Indian workers who came to Africa to build Mombasa-Kampala railway line introduced it to Kenya at the turn of the century.

It can grow from 0-1000m altitude with at least 500mm average rainfall. It’s adapted to wide range of soil types but does well in well-drained clay loam soils, which is neutral or slightly acidic.

Moringa oleifera is also known as a ‘multipurpose’ tree for its many uses e.g.

-Crushed seeds (powder) clarify and purify river water to suit domestic use and it lowers the bacterial concentration in the water making it safe for drinking.

-Leaves, which are a good source protein, vitamin A, B and C and minerals such as calcium and iron, are used as spinach equivalent.

Young pods are also popular as vegetable

-Oil from the seeds, known as ‘ben oil’, is used in salad, foe skin poultices and for making soap, cosmetics and as lamp fuel.

-The powder ground from the seeds is also used in the treatment of scurvy skin diseases (common bacterial infection of the skin).

-Fodder-branches are chopped for feeding camels, cattle, goats and sheep.

-The press cake left after oil extraction from the seeds can be used as soil conditioner or as fertilizer and has the potential for use as a supplement for livestock and poultry feed.

Areas in Kenya that have a major problem in accessing clean water e.g. Eastern, North eastern and some parts of Western Kenya could use this technology to access safe drinking water.

By Daateku

William S. Burroughs and Anthony Balch collaborate for this slice of weirdness. See the video here.

- Rudy Carrera.

Hello Folks!

Rudy here. I am gob-smacked to see how many new posts we have going these days! It’s making for some stunning reading, and each contribution has been wonderful.

I wanted to bring up a couple of small points for you all, however:

Please sign your name at the bottom of each post so we know who to thank for their work, and if you have a draft, keep it there for a month or so, and then clean it out. We have 13 drafts dating back to March, and I just want to know if these were unformed thoughts or if you were planning on posting these. They’re not getting deleted or anything, but it’d be nice to see all your work up for a great reading.

Anyway, these are mere trifles. You’re all doing a sterling job on your posts, covering a wide range of topics and, it seems, coming from various points from the religious, political and cultural spectrum. You’re the reason the blog is doing well!

- Rudy Carrera.

Although I can hear the squawk of literaii, I condider TRUMAN CAPOTE the greatest American writer–ever.

– James Schwartz

“An archaeological dig … moves back Paris’s first known human occupation to about 7600BC, in the Mesolithic period between the two stone ages.”

Via Archaeology Magazine: Link.

~ Karl Jones

Siena’s biggest event, Il Palio, is happening this Wednesday. The festivities have begun, and today horses were raced for contrada assignment. There are 17 contradas, or neighborhoods, in Siena that compete twice a year, every year on July 2nd and August 16, in a horse race in Piazza del Campo. Due to past scandals the contradas no longer have their own horse. Instead they are assigned a horse just shortly before the race.

So, on Wednesday I can either brave, or perhaps more accurately, stupid the heat and intense sun, or I can pop into the café close to my house and watch the events in an air-conditioned environment, like I did this morning.

Above are some tights hung out to dry. They belong to the Selva (forest) Contrada. They, of course, will lose. I live in the Torre Contrada! We will be the victors!!!!

above: The flags and elephant that represent the contrada in which I live.

—–
* “Fa caldo” is Italian for “it’s hot”. Well, it’s more than hot here. I thought the Italian phrase could use some help.

~ Janelle Renée

Online tools for browsing colors. Useful, elegant, and fun.

Via Color + Design Blog.

~ Karl Jones

Alvilda was a little concerned that Ivana, her friend from her studies at Fletcher over a decade ago who now also lives in Brussels, and I might be two too many alpha females to get along well, but that worry proved unfounded. Ivana is Croatian, and like Alvilda, is interested in international social justice issues. I liked her immediately.

We spent Saturday shopping in Brussels, but mostly window shopping. After the swank shops of Avenue Louise, we wandered over towards the area of the Grand Place, first stopping to pay homage to the Mannekin Pis (Little Boy Peeing), a several hundred year old fountain, and much-beloved symbol of Brussels. We got lucky, as some kind of odd civic ceremony was taking place, lead by the Friends of Mannekin Pis. The statue was dressed up, though of course provisions are made to allow his stream to freely flow. A town from Northern Spain had sent Gigante figures and folk dancers, who were all posing for photos in front of Mannekin Pis, with much arranging and ordering around being done by grumpy older gentlemen wearing official green jackets, and the Friends’ characteristic ribbon of offocialdom, featuring a reproduction of Mannekin Pis dangling from a ribbon (remember, this is a statue of a pissing boy).

After this, Ivana wisely guided us towards a bar she remembered nearby. It had once been a theater and featured a heavenly quiet courtyard–ruled by the most magnficent black cat. I ordered my new favorite beer, Triple Karmeliet, which has complex flavors, including something that reminds me of the toasted rice flavor of hojicha. Alvilda had Chimay Blue, and Ivana a white wine.

We shared a cheese plate, all of which was cubes of gouda.

~Wei Ming Dariotis

“We call it an enhanced blast weapon.”
- British Ministry of Defense spokesman

Thermobaric weapons — explosives that burn atmospheric oxygen — posed ethical problems for the Ministry of Defense. So they renamed the weapons.

The weapons are so controversial that MoD weapons and legal experts spent 18 months debating whether British troops could use them without breaking international law.

Eventually, they decided to get round the ethical problems by redefining the weapons.

“We no longer accept the term thermobaric [for the AGM-114N] as there is no internationally agreed definition,” said an MoD spokesman. “We call it an enhanced blast weapon.”

The redefinition has allowed British forces to use the weapons legally, but is undermined by the publicity of their manufacturer, Lockheed Martin, which markets them as thermobaric.

- Michael Smith @ Times Online (June 22, 2008): Link.

[Via Armchair Generalist: Link.]

New weapons raise the question: is killing a man with a new (and more deadly) weapon worse than killing him with an old familiar weapon?

“Whenever a new arm is about, it seems peculiarly atrocious …”
- Jorge Luis Borges

In a 1967 interview, Borges addressed the issue of “peculiarly atrocious” weapons:

See also Wikipedia: Jorge Luis Borges

The history of the crossbow provides another example — as if we required further evidence of man’s appetite for destruction …:

Last word goes to the optimists, on the slim yet admirable hope that we may find a better way to live and let live:

“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.”
- Matthew 5:9

~ Karl Jones

Hi Folks,

I guess it is time for a little self-introduction. Malcolm Lawrence, Founder/CEO & Editor-In-Chief of towerofbabel.com noticed that I had joined his Tower of Babel group on InterNations.com so he invited me to blog here.

I am very new to blogging–my only experience being a travel blog I’ve been keeping for about 3 weeks on facebook, mostly for my family and friends. However, I write a lot, mostly for public consumption through book chapters and journal articles (in my waking life I am an academic).

My writing often focuses on Asian American literature (the subject of my dissertation), art, culture, and community activism around identity politics. I have a particular fondness for poetry–particularly Asian American poetry–which requires often layers of references. I’ve recently been writing and lecturing a lot about the use of the Native Hawaiian word, “Hapa,” by non-Native Hawaiian Asian Americans. I’m also working on a book about mixed race Asian American artists (think Isamu Noguchi) with Laura Kina, herself a mixed Asian (Okinawan) artist. I also write about science fiction and mixed race (I have a chapter in a book on Star Trek, “The Influence of Star Trek on Television, Film, and Culture,” which is all about Spock as a mixed race character and Seven of Nine as a transracial adoptee). And I love ethnic vampire literature, feminist and racially conscious science-fiction/speculative fiction (this all comes together for me in the poetry of Bryan Thao Worra, a Lao transracial adoptee speculative poet).

Recently, I have co-founded the Critical Mixed Race Studies Association, and I am writing about what critical mixed race studies is about–it is an emerging field within Ethnic Studies.

Personally, I am a mixed Asian American (Chinese, Greek, Swedish, English, Scottish, German, Pennsylvania Dutch), born in Australia, raised in San Francisco (and sent to Japanese Bilingual/Bi-cultural school for a few years), tenured at San Francisco State University in Asian American Studies, and at this very moment taking my first vacation in years and spending 5 weeks living with my best friend at her home in Brussels (after having just gotten tenure and having recently, amicably divorced).

And I just turned 39 on the recent summer solstice.

best,

Wei Ming Dariotis

[lang_en]To Be “Hapa” or Not to Be “Hapa”: What to Name Mixed Asian Americans?

Preface: I have been struggling for several years with this apparently un-resolvable issue: what to do about “Hapa”? I finally decided I had to start writing about it, had to start engaging the dialog. The essays and talks I have been giving on this issue represent my commitment to be fully involved in this dialog, this journey, no matter where it might take us.

Asian American Studies was founded by student and community activists in the Bay Area who proposed the revolutionary idea that positionality—how people are situated within, on the edges of, and in opposition to various kinds of groupings is a valid perspective from which to shape analysis, scholarship, and critical inquiry. The positionality of mixed race and mixed heritage Asian Americans became more solidly located within Asian American communities at least partially through the naming of them/us as a coherent, identifiable group through the use of the Native Hawaiian term “Hapa.” “Asian American” itself is a term of collective identity that grew out of a political movement—before 1968, one was “Oriental” or Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, or Korean. Asian American as a term provides a space in which these diverse ethnic communities can come together—but it also creates it’s own sense of identity—what Yen Le Espiritu calls “Asian American pan-ethnicity.” As opposed to ethnic-specific terms like the Filipino “mestizo” or the Japanese “haafu,” “Hapa” is a word that specifically situates mixed Asian Americans within this pan-ethnic Asian American community. “Hapa” also provides the important function of giving mixed Asian Americans a safe space. Growing controversies over the use of the Native Hawaiian word “hapa” to identify mixed race Asian Americans could possibly destabilize this unifying identity—or could provide an interesting opportunity to push out the boundaries we may have drawn around ourselves in the process of coming together.

~Wei Ming Dariotis[/lang_en]

After going out onto the kitchen deck to view the moon hanging over Lago Trasimeno, with its little star companionably lurking over its shoulder, we were greeted by firelies dancing a mating dance and twinkling at us.

This inspired a desire for star gazing, so we adjourned to the uppermost deck of the house, above the front door. The air was so perfectly perfumed and lovely it made me wonder aloud what it might be like to sleep outside there. My friend, Alvilda, said that as children she and her cousin, Noam (now the mayor of New Rochelle, NY–think “The Dick Van Dyck Show”), used to sleep out on the porch to watch the stars in every stage of the summer night.

Who would not rest peacefully after hearing this?

~Wei Ming Dariotis

The moon tonight, the night of the longest day of the year (June 21st) is the size and color of a ripe apricot. I had resisted, at first, buying the apricots here in Umbria. I had only a memory of California’s apricots that looked ripe but were hard and never ripened, or ripened into a surly pulp without ever tasting satisfyingly apricot-ish.

But I was wrong; the apricots in Umbria are gorgeous. And the moon in Umbria tonight is a heavy, succulent fruit.

One star hangs above the moon’s shoulder, keeping watch as they rise together over a hill on the edge of Lago Trasimeno.

We had apricots for dinner, and the tangy honey of their flesh still lingers on my tongue. The apricots taste like the moon. *

* I must credit my friend Reg with this line.

~Wei Ming Dariotis

On a whim today, after exploring the storybook cuteness of Brussel’s Grand Place (various winding cobblestone side streets, delightfully whimsical facades, etc.), I happened by the Royal Museums of the Beaux-Arts.

I was thinking more about eating lunch at the Museum Cafe than anything else, but I was drawn in by the Rubens Room. It is huge, the walls are almost oxblood red, and the paintings are truly magnificent.

Normally, I don’t go in much for religious focused art, but in this case, I was truly touched by the artistry of this Master. [I must say that the whole idea of artistic "Mastery" seems offensive to me in so many ways, but here, I must say, Rubens demonstrates a facility with his brush that can only be described as great ease--it is this that makes him seem a "Master" to me--a master of himself, say, rather than of some abstract ideal of the medium].

The “Pieta with St. Francis” is particularly affecting. At first, I was mainly interested in the girl wearing a lovely lavender silk dress (yes, I was looking at the fashion!) kneeling at Christ’s feet. She has apparently pulled the curved, dagger-like nails from his feet and is holding them like she might stab them into her own chest out of grief. The more I looked at this the more I became engaged with this figure–and she is the only one at eye level, so it makes sense that she brings you into the painting, she makes you want to understand the scene in this specific circumstance–rather than just the general myth of Christ being crucified.

Christ, despite having hung on the cross, looks solid and earthy. The Belgian artists of this period generally made their figures solid, almost monumental, but Rubens does it with a breathy kind of looseness that I find invigorating and simply, as I said above, “masterful.”

Years after Western Civ class, to finally see these pieces in person is quite–well, touching.

In another room I stumbled on to David’s “A Marat.” I’d always loved this painting in reproduction because of the vast empty space above Marat’s dead body in the bath. The simple planes seem to foreshadow those of more modern works that would be influenced by the treatment of space in Japanese block prints.

Seeing David’s work in person was enlightening because I’d never known before that he’d painted Marat as though his dead flesh barely contained a kind of light seeping through him, as though he was already transforming into a being of light and fire. More than Christ in Rubens’ painting, Marat looks like his body is barely containing the ineffable.

~Wei Ming Dariotis

Book illustration by Lorenzo Homar
From The Three Wishes; a Collection of Puerto Rican Folktales
by Ricardo E. Alegria, 1969.

BibliOdyssey has posted some lovely sketches and prints by Lorenzo Homar: Link.

Wikipedia states:

Lorenzo Homar (10 September 1913 - 16 February 2004), is considered by many to be Puerto Rico’s greatest graphic artist.

… Homar joined the jeweler House of Cartier in 1936 in New York as an apprentice designer. This was of great significance for his artistic development because during this time he studied engraving, drawing and history of design in a traditional workshop system.

… When the United States entered World War II, Homar joined the Army …. He developed a talent for cartography working for the Second Amphibious Combat Engineers Brigade, and published military sketches in numerous American journals.

… Homar returned to Puerto Rico in 1950, where together with other artists, such as Rafael Tufiño, Julio Rosado del Valle and Rene Marques, was the co-founder of the “Centro de Arte Puertorriqueño” (Puerto Rican Arts Center, or CAP). He was later named the director of the Graphics Studio of the Graphic Art Division of Puerto Rico’s Department of Community Education (DivEdCo). This is when he created most of his greatest works of art.

… During the decade of the 1960s Homar began to show his growing mastery of the techniques of graphic printmaking, particularly in silkscreen.

The admiration that Homar felt for the masters of the graphic arts led him to distinguish himself as a designer of multiple works of art. His posters, drawings and graphics elevated Puerto Rican graphic arts to a new level of worldwide admiration.

- Wikipedia: Link.

~ Karl Jones

Interesting concept for a blogging community, I must say.

I’m Jacques and I’ve been blogging on and off since 2003. On and off because I couldn’t find the right avenue for my sentiments. Hopefully, this time, Babel is the right place.

I’m for women, minority, and aborigine emancipation. My research area is in human rights communication with an emphasis on genocide and ethnic conflicts which are also manifested in my poems.

At present, I’m gathering books for Rwanda’s first ever public library that will soon open in the capital city of Kigali.

More on my projects in the coming posts…

Para Rosangela de Fátima

Encontro-me tantas vezes pensando em ti
e visualizo tua perfeita forma de mulher,
o dia a aflorar-te nos lábios de veludo,
a noite a escorrer-te pela seda dos cabelos.
Se estás longe de mim, dia após dia
transformo-te na delícia do fruto que aprecio,
no frescor da água que me sacia a sede
e na substância, enfim, que me permite o amanhã.
Posso te sentir na suave brisa matutina,
nos primeiros raios do sol que me aquecem
e ouso ver-te em cada objeto, em cada rosto,
em cada gota de orvalho da verde grama
e no ruflar das asas das andorinhas…
Sou pequenino ante tua presença
e obscuro ante tua transparência,
mas mantenho os olhos cerrados
enquanto o dia corre,
enquanto a hora vital não chega,
até que te encontro, nascida do nada,
florescida, cristalina ante meus olhos,
e bebo da taça dos teus lábios
e aqueço-me do sol do teu sorriso
e me desfaço em infantil alegria…
E vão-se do meu rosto a sombra e a amargura
e tudo o que me faz sofrer quando não te tenho.
Onda que vem
e que vai
e vem novamente
e torna a partir,
mas que não escoa nunca,
neste oceano de delícias que é o teu corpo,
que banha o meu corpo,
que faz nascente o sol no meu rosto.
És a delícia, a doçura dos meus dias
e a cada hora te espero
para reinares sempre em minha vida.

http://www.apoesia.net/index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=162

“[Slums] are generating wealth the way cities have always done.”

Stewart Brand — lifelong activist, optimist, and gadfly — recently addressed the problem of urban poverty:

The mindset must shift from “city as problem to city as solution,” said Stewart Brand, president of the Long Now Foundation, which aims to raise awareness on solving long-term problems.

Historically, Brand said, squatter cities have always been areas of economic expansion; within them there is virtually no unemployment, and their inhabitants are constantly striving to lift themselves out of destitution, he said.

“[Slums] are generating wealth the way cities have always done,” Brand said.

- Lara Farrar for CNN (June 11, 2008 ): Link.

Stewart Brand @ Wikipedia: Link.

The Long Now Foundation: Link.

Flashback to 2003:
“Every third person will be a slum dweller within 30 years, UN agency warns.”

One in every three people in the world will live in slums within 30 years unless governments control unprecedented urban growth, according to a UN report. The largest study ever made of global urban conditions has found that 940 million people — almost one-sixth of the world’s population — already live in squalid, unhealthy areas, mostly without water, sanitation, public services or legal security.

The report, from the UN human settlements programme, UN-habitat, based in Nairobi, found that urban slums were growing faster than expected, and that the balance of global poverty was shifting rapidly from the countryside to cities.

- John Vidal @ The Guardian (October 4, 2003): Link.

~ Karl Jones

Water scarcity is an increasingly sever problem across the developing world, with many countries in East Africa already experiencing water shortages or sever water scarcity. Certain trees that are integrated into agricultural systems can increase the efficiency of water use, while plantations of fast-growing trees can exacerbate water shortages and drought.

This has triggered a heated debate: Does planting trees ease or worsen water shortages? Planting trees is great, although using appropriate scientific knowledge to plant the right tree in the right place is even greater.

Plantations of fast-growing evergreen trees, such as Eucalyptus or Pines that consume a lot of water, should be avoided in water-scarce areas. As an alternative, planting deciduous trees, which shed their leaves during dry season, should be encouraged. In addition to consuming less water, these trees can produce a range of valuable products like timber, fruits and fodder.

Scientists address the problem of competition for water between crops and trees by coppicing and root pruning which reduces water requirement of trees and gives crops an added advantage.

These are important lessons for the future, when the effects of climate and expected decline in rainfall will make the water balance effects of trees critical to the management of agricultural landscapes across Africa.

By Daateku

About the Author

“Being a research technician, I like generating & exchanging ideas on Socio-economic scientific environmental issues & how they affect our lives. Any other issues that can add value & make life more interesting are also welcome. I have always wanted to have adequate capacity to meaningfully help the needy, to leave a positive impact on the lives of those around me & to be at peace with everyone .”

Introductions…how silly of me! My name is Chelsea Leroux. I’m an excitable young spaz from hometown indefinite in the western US. A writer of ten years (and, thanks to the benevolent people behind this intriguing site, a new-to-the-scene blogger), in recent days I’ve found myself penning mostly about the present media and communication trends, the environment as a whole, and the general haze of the day-to-day. Presently a student with a focus on history and anthropology, when not shoved by the nose into endless seas of printed paper, I’m usually on the go (travel, my boat, whatever gets me out there).

As a writer, I suppose, my focuses have been lackadaisical at best. I’ve always wished for the greater benefits of the artist without the effort that goes usually goes into it. Recent days have found me overcoming my optimism in favor of the reality that work is just that. I, along with a small group of my peers, am foregoing ambition for now, and working on the true art of the word. (Without these peers, I must say, I could not bare to ink. They are better than I ever will be, and their amazing and disturbing talents are what push me on).

As a traveler, however, I feel I can retain a bit of that youthful spirit. It keeps me balanced. It is how I discover the world, and so it is what best delivers me from the shadows of ignorance.

And now, to Work, I say! Looking forward to working in a new medium, and I hope I can deliver!

-Chelsea Leroux

Dissent Magazine, long a source of leftist rhetoric, does a superb job in calling a spade a spade in Communist-controlled areas in India.

- Rudy Carrera.

A writer of many years, this is my virgin run at this particular medium (the blog), so I chose to stick with what I know. Now, that’s not much, but if there’s one thing I know intimately, it’s the universe…or, perhaps, the pen. I frequently get the two of those confused, and use them rather interchangeably.

Why? I’m not entirely sure; but, at my best guest, it’s because there is nothing in the universe that can’t be filtered through the fine ball of a pen: It speaks whatever language you want it to speak, knows whatever you want it to know, tells anyone and anything whatever you’re out to say, and does it all in such a perfunctory manner that we forget it’s far more capable of communication than we are (why else would we use them the way we do)? Then again, I could be totally off on all of that. But, in all my wanderings, the one thing I never forget, that one thing I always stash in the satchel before fresh chonies, is the universe…or the pen – pick your tomato.

(I’m begging you, please save the scrutiny, remember – new and still lighthearted about trying something different! And, think about it: very little else will function for as many causes as indiscriminately at the pen).

-Chelsea Leroux

Spengler is the pseudonym for one of the most interesting and provocative journalists operating in Asia. Here, he notes on the crumbling of a nation in relation to how its women are treated.

See Spengler’s column archive here.

- Rudy Carrera.

A charming lad, Ashutosh from India, blogs here on philosophy, music and culture. It’s worth a look.

- Rudy Carrera.

The poor lady seems to be the victim of a shady loan deal, unfortunately:

By MANUEL VALDES, Associated Press Writer Wed Jun 25, 9:01 AM ET

SEATTLE - Jazz vocalist Ernestine Anderson is facing foreclosure on her home in Seattle in yet another sign that the mortgage loan crisis is hitting traditional working-class neighborhoods hard.

Anderson, who once sang with the likes of Quincy Jones and Ray Charles, is more than $30,000 in arrears in payments and penalties, public records show.

Friends and family have started a last-ditch effort to save her Central District home by pleading for donations. They hope to raise $45,000 for the 79-year-old in less than a week to cover the back payments and taxes, said Carmen Gayton, a friend of Anderson’s family.

After that, Gayton said, they hope to buy enough time to figure out a way for Anderson to sustain herself.

James Kelly, president of the Urban League of Seattle, said counselors will try to find out how Anderson got a loan that now asks for a monthly payments of $5,000. Gayton said Anderson’s monthly income is $1,000 from Social Security, and at her age, her performances are limited.

“She never should have gotten that loan,” Gayton said. “It’s a difficult issue for her. The house is her mom’s and father’s home, since 1946.”

Public records show a principal balance of more than $450,000 on the house. Details of the loan were not immediately clear.

The home is slated for public auction July 11.

“Since 1946, I have been going out on the road, but this is home base,” Anderson told KING5 television in Seattle. “I can’t tell you how wonderful people have been to me. People I don’t know.”

Associated Press efforts to reach Anderson by phone Tuesday were not successful.

After 30 albums and four Grammy nominations, Anderson is one of Seattle’s most respected names in music, part of a jazz scene the flourished in the city well before grunge and alternative rock took the stage.

Anderson is one of dozens of people facing foreclosure in her neighborhood, an area of Seattle that has been traditionally African American. More than 200 houses face foreclosure in Anderson’s zip code, according to Realty Trac, a Web site that tracks foreclosures.

- Rudy Carrera.

Poem talks about the tragedy occurred on Congonhas, SP, and external revolt of the pain and uncertainty about who are real culprits

TAMtos dead …
Who is to blame?
The man-machine?
From the machine-man?
The machine-machine?
Or the whole machinery?
And what the box says,
The box burned,
The box “immune” to the fall,
A black-box black?
Does screams, cryng,
Pain, noise,
Broken phrases,
Words disrupted
Denounce guilty?
Who is to blame?
The rain? From the runway?
The tower?
Who has died?
And the next fault?
Who are to be? …
My? His? …

At the beginning of February the IPCC (Panel Intergovernamental de Climatic Mudança) divulged world-wide a report on the global heating. In this room study, the IPCC affirms that the temperature of the Land will increase very still in this century. So soon the announcement became public, in the whole world had manifestations of heads of state, studious and scientists. The most diverse medias reproduced and commented the subject, that before was ignored for all. It seems that the society finally is taking conscience of the gravity of the problem. Todos nós estamos sentindo na pele. The professors explain in the classrooms, in all the series, in them not only discipline of Sciences and Geography, but in all. The Internet, the radios, periodicals, magazines and nets of television insists that the heating is preoccupying climatic phenomenon, of wide extension; that the temperature in a century and way comes considerably increasing, ones saying that everything has root in natural causes, others affirming that the guilt is of the man. However, it does not advance to deny the responsibility human being, after all the changes must, yes, to the actions of the animal man on the nature, since the invention of the wheel, the adoption of the coal and as much other inventos, many useless ones. All we are guilty! The evidences I did not give xam doubts: deforestations, forest fires, industries pouring pollutant in air and waters and for go there… The conservatives, the “saints”, can close themselves in one redoma, redeeming itself of the guilt, but redoma also will melt, can be certain. The taking of conscience at least brings a alento to the future generations (if it will have them). Each one must contain its expenses, independent of which they are, since a lighted light bulb uselessly, a tap dripping, until the extreme consumption of clothes, footwear and foods. The motto is: to use only the necessary one. It will be that it is difficult? Let us wait that the repercussion of this report of the IPCC really opens our eyes and our heads for the conscience taking. Mainly of the skeptics. The global heating is not mere speculation. It is fact! It does not advance to run away from the responsibility. Each one must act for the reduction of the impact that the Land comes suffering with the continued rise of the temperature. Hands to the workmanship!

Don Osborn posts on his African Languages mailing list on a program which helps Africans assimilate in the US.

- Rudy Carrera.

PRIVATE CELEBRITY

VS.

I DON’T CARE TO TELL THE WORLD

(FOR YOU’RE THE WORLD TO ME)

(DJ RESH VS. JAMES C. RULE REMIX)

Pull up in my ride, vibin’ to Prince Bee.

April Hoskins at my side for all to see.

Around this club we’re V.I.P.

Bloglines made a celebrity out of me.

I don’t care to tell the world,

For you’re the world to me;

When my message reaches you

It has reached it’s destiny;

You’re the only world I know,

That’s why I love to tell it so,

I don’t care to tell the world

For you’re the world to me.

Putting on a show, strutting in the club

A homohop flow, pocket full of paper and a fat dub.

Painted eyes laughing behind designer shades.

Falling in love as the night fades.

I don’t care to tell the world,

For you’re the world to me;

When my message reaches you

It has reached it’s destiny;

You’re the only world I know,

That’s why I love to tell it so,

I don’t care to tell the world

For you’re the world to me.

PARTING SHOTS: A SONNET

Family! Family! Where did Old Order, New Beginnings go wrong?

I address you from the pulpit of my own devising.

Forcing you to dance to the techno song.

Screaming truths you’re busy disguising.

You abandon me, aged 9, beside Mom’s grave.

I had to heal these wounds alone.

Breaking down is never brave.

Over your gossip on the telephone.

Over the electronica on the dancefloor.

I see the poisoned clan you are.

Artfully playing the Christian bore.

Refusing to see the literary star.

Turning away, locking your door.

Devouring my bloglines from the night before.

THE DINING ROOM: A SONNET

Through the winters gray pearl light.

We poets contemplate our fate.

To the inky November night.

And the small portions on our plate.

We commiserate, yet we write.

Dining every night so late.

Chewing over what we bit.

Vomiting up what we hate.

Lyrical word warriors, you must eat.

Carving gems from cold bones.

Muses hold at bay defeat.

Lovers push forth the moans.

To crawl forth from the gloom.

To recite our souls in the dining room.

by: James Schwartz

I met a Brazilian friend for wine yesterday before we headed to the Festa Europea della Musica. It was a musical festival that had 15 stages set up all around Siena’s medieval center. We made it to 5 of them. It was fantastic!

The evening was warm, there were swarms of cheerful music loving people, the music was superb and diverse–opera, traditional Italian music, Brazilian and American jazz, and hip-hop blasting during an organized game of street basketball even!

The picture above is a nice little snapshot of life in Italy: International friends, good cheap wine, cell phones exhausted from too much use, bottled water, an ashtray, the bistro table, and slate roads.

The bar where we met serves wine for only €1 a glass. I’m in Tuscany afterall* so even the cheap wine tastes just fine to my rather ill-refined palate.

For the price of a glass of wine, you can also buy bottled water. The price of bottle water is much less here than in the States. At the supermarket, I can buy six 1.5 liters of water for €1.60. Europeans, and Italians in particular, have a contagious fear of tap water. However, I’ve since returned to drinking from the tap after reading this book review in the Times. The price of water is low here, but the environmental impact of the plastic that holds it is large.

Since the smoking ban for bars and restaurants took effect just a couple of years ago in Europe, people smoke with a certain proud defiance out in public places and in doorways. Their rebelliousness reeks more aromatically than their asthma-triggering cigarette smoke. There is something about a clinging to How Things Were that Italians do admirably well, even if the tradition they are clinging to is cancerous and stinky.

—-

* As I feistily wrote in my last post in my personal blog, “if inasmuch, whatnot, aforementioned, whencesoever, thereafter, and nevertheless are legit words, then I hereby proclaim “afterall” a real word, too. From thenceforth it is now such!”

—–

I’m sitting outside of my neighborhood bar (Italians call cafés “bars”, so don’t think that I’m a drunk!) and no fewer than 10 people from the neighborhood (3 senior men, 2 senior women, 2 mid-aged men, and a man and 2 women in their 30’s, like me) have joined me. They’ve arrived one-by-one and some in pairs. They are sitting loosely to 2 other tables, and I am well attached to another via my computer. I look up every now and then and a nod or smile is exchanged. After 3 months of “Buongiorno!”, “Ciao!”, “Buonasera!” and “What did you call me?” I think I’m finally accepted as a member of their community. I couldn’t be happier.

~ Janelle Renée

“Unbutton the Shirt Slowly”

Unbutton the shirt slowly
He might like that
The pants lie forgotten on his floor
I smell of the sea
I smell of showers
I smell of cologne
He might like that
Toothpaste and raspberry cocktails
Mingle in frantic kisses deep
Unbutton the shirt slowly
He likes that
Tonight.

“The Pale City”

From the pale city
Beside the pale sea
I traveled once more home
To the fields in hues of tea
I left behind abandon lovers
They did not see me go
I keep my silence still
I have nothing left to show
No goodbyes were called out
As the pale city fell behind
Only silence reigned
Of the indifferent kind.

by: James Schwartz

JAMES SCHWARTZ is a poet and slam performer striving for the simplicity of Cavafy mixed with modern gay wordplay and elements; Schwartz’s poetry / slam material dialogues of GLBTQ issues and affirmations of gay (night) life and love.

James Schwartz was born 2.19.78 and raised in the Old Order Amish community in SW MI. where he currently resides.
Schwartz is the author of several poetry chapbooks including THE SCARLET BAND AND OTHER POEMS (2005). Schwartz’s poetry was published by POETRY LIFE AND TIMES.COM (March, September 07, April 08 issues), THE RAINBOW GAZZETTE (June, September, December 07, January, March, April 08 issues) and most recently the Australian poetry / art journal OutSide the Lines and The Poets Haven.

____________________________________

Dear JS Readers…

Thanks to Malcolm I will be posting a mix of poetry and writings here at Babel.  Also see http://ajscyberreader.tripod.com and http://jsgossip.blogspot.com

Scanning around the Internet and stumbling onto tasteful sites is one of the pleasures of blogging!  I discovered this one scanning around Flork, and he has no bio information on his site, but some of the shots Milosz makes are frankly gorgeous work!

- Rudy Carrera.

Most humble apologies for my dearth of post, kids!  I’m freeing time to start going link-crazy again shortly.  We’ll start you off with a link to one of Australia’s most unique radio stations.  I’ve included a streaming link to the June 15th program for you to sample.  Enjoy!

- Rudy Carrera.

News item: “There is water ice on Mars within reach of the Mars Phoenix Lander, NASA scientists announced ….”

My brother emailed me few choice words on the subject of space colonization:

This is the big news we have been waiting for to launch our nation’s Space Quest — watch it become a big campaign issue:

Mars Phoenix Tweets: “We Have ICE!” @ Wired.com

Oh great, now we can go live in space! Neato!

Do you remember growing up with very positive vision of humankind living in space? If you think about it, Living in space would likely be either too solitary or too intensely social, and at the same time, either artificially overstimulated or mindbendingly understimulated. That would be under ideal conditions. A more typical experience will most likely be that of our children ending their lives as slaves on an asteroid mine.

- Geoff Jones

Indeed, I do remember growing up with the positive vision of life in space. More than positive — a beatific vision of life aboard an O’Neill orbital cathedral ….

However, given that we’re having trouble surviving here on earth, I think it’s safe to assume we’ll have even more trouble surviving elsewhere.

~ Karl Jones

First it was all alone. And then it was the blow hole of a whale and then the eye. Then more clouds blew over and seemed to freeze for brief moments like little digital glitches – like I was downloading this scene and waiting for the hiccups to pass.

I stared at it from my roommate’s balcony and had a near blankness inside of me. If it was my balcony I’d stay out there all night, I thought. If I had it my way I’d live the whole rest of my life under this moon. But that’s the trap.

The whale was long gone after all. It’s the basic fact: you can’t put something like this in your pocket. It all passes. Life is in motion.

Smiling hugely, I came back inside and continued to work.

-David Rodich

MMY

Kim Matthews (2008)

Abaca, waxed cord, reed, graphite, wire, unryu and iron oxide.

Kim Matthews creates amazing sculptures, exploring biomorphic forms and the relationship between sculpture and environment.

Normandale Community College (Bloomington, Minnesota) is currently featuring a solo exhibition of her work.

Through July 31, 2008.
Reception June 19, 2008, 6 to 8 pm.
Phone NCC @ 952-487-8399.

kim matthews art.com

~ Karl Jones

Before I begin, let me say thank you for the warm welcome I have received here at Babel.  I appreciate the comments greatly.

There is an outdoor concert series going on all summer long here at this amazing park that is just a10-15 minute walk from my apartment. Last week we saw Isaac Hayes, and, in keeping with the theme of NYC, there was possibly the greatest cross-section of people I could imagine in one place. And as I was weaving through the crowd I was struck with a great irony: the more multicultural a place is, the less it matters. It starts to become just a surface issue. The focus changes to real, internal qualities and the multiculturalism becomes more of a backdrop. Perhaps there is a lesson here for humanity: if we expose ourselves to a slew of different people we will soon learn that each group is full of the whole spectrum of personalities. At least that’s what my experience has been.

For more information about the park and its fantastic concert series visit http://www.prospectpark.org/

-David Rodich

The creator of the most insidious ad in political history has left us.

HT: Lou Smith, exotica List.

Mr. Soul
Félix Curto (2007)
(Portrait) Fotografía color sobre papel RC
122 x 175 cm.

Via we make money, not art:

Heart of Gold, Félix Curto’s solo show at La Fábrica Galería [Madrid, Spain], takes its title from a song by Neil Young. It features ten photographs taken by the Spanish artist while he was visiting the Mennonite communities in America.

- Regine @ we make money, not art: Link.

La Fabrica Galeria: Link.

Not all Mennonites are farmers. The people in Curto’s photographs represent a distinct subculture within the larger culture of Mennonites. Wikipedia states:

The Mennonites are a group of Christian Anabaptist denominations named after Menno Simons (1496–1561), though his teachings were a relatively minor influence on the group. As one of the historic peace churches, Mennonites are committed to nonviolence, nonviolent resistance/reconciliation, and pacifism.

There are about 1.5 million Mennonites worldwide as of 2006. Mennonite congregations worldwide embody the full scope of Mennonite practice from old fashioned ‘plain’ people to those who are indistinguishable in dress and appearance from the general population. The largest population of Mennonites is in the United States and Democratic Republic of Congo, but Mennonites can also be found in tight-knit communities in at least 51 countries on six continents or scattered amongst the populace of those countries.

- Mennonite @ Wikipedia: Link.

~ Karl Jones

“Canada … negotiates and does business.”

Canada is set up to run on steady immigration. It feels like a twenty first century country to me because it’s not interested in power. It negotiates and does business. It gets along with other countries. The power part is very nineteenth century. 99 percent of ideology we have today is very nineteenth century. The twentieth century was about technology, and the nineteenth was ideology.”

- William Gibson, interview by Annalee Newitz: June 9, 2008 @ io9: Link.

“William Ford Gibson (born 17 March 1948) is an American-Canadian writer who has been called the ‘noir prophet’ of the cyberpunk subgenre of science fiction.”

- William Gibson @ Wikipedia: Link.

~ Karl Jones

As a former piper, I take utter offense to this story!!  However, I do have to admit a tinge of feeling for the suffering of both geezers and students…

- Rudy Carrera.

I live in Siena, Italy. My favorite time of the day, isn’t! It’s at night. Piazza del Campo (pictured above and below) is beautiful anytime of the day and night; it’s simply magical.

Friends ask me what it’s like living in Siena. I always reply it’s like living on the set of a fairytale. I think so, not only because of its enchanting beauty, but also because it is otherworldly.

I live in the center and don’t have a car. There are no new buildings–most, if not all, are from the Middle Ages. Few cars clutter the narrow curvy and up-and-down streets, because only residents with special permits are allowed. Siena was one of the first European cities to adopt this brilliant idea. (Imagine San Francisco, or any other major city, with a tenth of its cars!)

No modern buildings, very few cars, ancient buildings, everybody around me speaking Italian, and breathtaking views of the Tuscan countryside from my apartment … it is no wonder that I feel as if I live in a fairytale.

Two nights ago I went for a walk alone. (I have no fear wandering aimlessly and alone through Siena’s center–only this is possible in tame fairlytales and in Siena!) I live close to Piazza del Campo and walking through the square to make my way home, I heard Dylan’s Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. Two young men were belting it out on their guitars and with their better-than-average voices. Not that a reason is needed to stop, sit, and enjoy Piazza del Campo’s atmosphere, but when you traverse the square at least 3 or 4 times a day, even the beautiful becomes ordinary. Thanks to those two men, however, I sat down and relaxed and was reminded how lucky I am to be living and to be living here.

~ Janelle Renée

I am a writer in Brooklyn, New York. I write short fiction, artist biographies, press releases, and now, thanks to the gracious invitation from Malcom, I write a blog. I was trained at Indiana University (in my home state) as an elementary teacher, and while I love those little maniac students, I feel the need to be selfish and pursue my number one passion of writing. Although an obvious choice, this is a hard thing to do as I am also interested in the electric piano, geology, soccer, and food. It’s often these days that I nod and sigh and think to myself that I’ll maybe focus on one of these in some alternate lifetime. Maybe.

As I am learning to write and learning how to ‘be a writer’ I am surrounded with an ever-growing group of artists that are all pushing their lives in the same way. I find this to be the most amazing thing about this city: the network, the hook-up, the camaraderie, the energy, the constant potential for new collaborations and new friendships.

Aside from being an inherently interesting process, this is especially amazing because so many of the people I meet come from different parts of the world. With over %40 of its population foreign-born, New York City truly is a great multi-cultural experiment. I want to use this blog to capture bits of this and chronicle my experience here as an emerging professional writer. I want to tell you about the people I meet and the things I see; my progress and points of excitement. Simply put, I want to be continually answering the question of, what is it like to be me in this time and place.  Hopefully in this process I’ll be able to provide you with some entertaining tales.

Thank you so much for reading.

-David Rodich

“It never pays to own the genuine thing. If you are rich, you can wear fakes and everyone will believe they are real. If you are not rich, people will assume you are wearing a fake even if it is real.”

Thanks to advancing technology, counterfeit luxury goods are getting better. Much, much better: a good counterfeit Rolex is now virtually indistinguishable from the genuine article. What does this mean for society?

There is a social value to counterfeiting. It allows ordinary people to enjoy the status of luxury goods. And now that counterfeit luxury goods are close in quality as well as appearance, those same people can also enjoy the superior functioning of the originals.

“From a purely economic perspective,” I told Evan, “there is no reason ever to buy high-priced luxury goods.”

“What do you mean?” he wanted to know.

“Well, let me ask you this: What is the benefit of this brand mystique you have so correctly identified as a value?”

“Prestige,” he answered immediately. “Like it or not, prestige is something most people are happy to pay money for.”

“Granted,” I said. “So let me ask you this: If you saw a gas station attendant wearing a top of the line Rolex, what would you think?”

“That it was a knockoff.”

“And if you had that thought - that it was a fake - what feeling would you have toward the man wearing it?”

“Pity. Or something like pity,” Evan said.

“Right. And wouldn’t you agree that pity is pretty much the opposite emotion that prestige is meant to curry?”

“I’ll grant you that,” he said.

“Now let me ask you this: Let’s say you saw a very rich man - someone you knew to be rich - wearing a Rolex. Would you assume it was genuine… or would you suspect it was a fake?”

“I’d assume it was real.”

“And what feelings would you have toward that man?”

“That he was successful. That he had a rich life.”

“In other words, you would always assume that the rich man’s belongings were genuine and the working man’s were fakes - even though you couldn’t tell the difference.”

“I guess that’s so,” he said.

“Which means it never pays to own the genuine thing. If you are rich, you can wear fakes and everyone will believe they are real. If you are not rich, people will assume you are wearing a fake even if it is real.”

- Michael Masterson @ Early to Rise, 06/9/2008: Link.

~ Karl Jones (thanks, EB)