Tuesday, January 31, 2006

lies, religious wars and cartoons

okay … read this … ?? what do you think …? to tell you the truth, i’m not sure what to think … i mean, i’m sure most of us would not dispute the cartoon’s message … Islam seems quite a violent, fanatical world … they do like to blow things up, and they do grow up hating … there seems a culture of violence … BUT, that said … it does seem disrespectful to mock a religious figure … wondering what all the Christians would think if an editorial cartoon depicted Jesus in some kind of similarly disrespectful pose? hmmmmm ….

oh, dear …. the war rages on … war of religions … war of words … ideas … beliefs … ho hum … i see both sides of the story … watched Condaleeza tell the world about the big bad Hamas government … gawd please spare me, dearie … does she HONESTLY think that she or any other western politicians are going to accomplish what has not been accomplished in thousands of years ….

that piece of land i like to think of as palestine will remain the source of wars, terrorism, etc for generations to come … ALL THREE SIDES ARE AT FAULT HERE … (the USA being the third side … can’t seem to stop sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong …ackkk) … how can Condaleeza sit up their telling the world they will not recognize a gov’t that supports terrorism? what a fucking double standard bull shit that is! they are certainly the running for such a distinction -gov’t that supports terror … and that wall … apparently no one was listening when reagan said about the berlin wall ‘tear down this wall …’ … so it’s okay for the livelihoods of palestinians to be destroyed for some fucking jewish bullshit wall? uh fuck … this is exactly why i choose NOT to watch the news … unfortunately today it was inflicted upon me …grrrr …

well. got that out. we all know we’re not gonna solve anything … but there. its said. now - violence … yes … this is not an insult … Islam is a very violent culture … when my husband lived in africa (his dad worked for the UN and was stationed there) he and his (swiss) parents lived in a flat above an arab family … one evening they heard some absolutely horrific screaming … the most awful sounds … coming from that flat … the next day when ‘dad’ asked about these noises … this is what the neighbour told him …”the rabbit only started screaming when i stepped on his head to slit his throat!’ … and, folks, that is a true story, and the said thing is … the guy who stepped on the rabbit’s head thought this was terribily funny … obviously the swiss family did not!
that story conjures up an image in my head … and that is the image i have when i hear hamas and their declarations of killing, destruction and war … i really wonder where this leaves the mideast process … nowhere … at an impass … with one side wanting a two-country solution (the side that doesn’t live in the mideast, of course), and two other sides wanting a one-country solution …

i’m really hoping that one day soon cooler heads will prevail and someone will stop and ask, ‘wait …why did those people elect a hamas government? what message does that send us?’ but … i’m not holding my breath … :roll:

Sunday, January 29, 2006

to all drivers

. . . who insist on driving their vehicles everywhere, despite the fact they have no driving skills whatsoever . . .

here are a few things u should know:

1. at an intersection, the stopping point is not only before the intersection, but also BEFORE the pedestrian crosswalk, not in the middle of or after the crosswalk - us pedestrians r not 2 keen on walking behind your car and sucking in all those nice exhaust fumes!!!

2. vehicles are equipped with signal lights because we are ALL supposed to be using them to signal lane changes and turns - ALL the time, not just when the fancy strikes us!!

3. the passing lane is just that, a lane for passing . . . it is not a lane u plant yourself in if you are driving all the way to timbucktou - for heavens sake, keep your sorry piece of motorized metal to the right, so others can pass if they want 2!!

4. if u can’t follow these guidelines, then for heaven’s sake take the bus or support your local cabbie . . .STAY OFF THE ROAD!!!

its all about ME

  • i'm roxanne, and this is velvet, the voice inside my head. and this -- this is her blog.
  • i'm that wild, passionate and unruly girl your mum warned you about

    i'm a maelstrom, a whirling dervish, a minx. i run from "same-ness" - i find it oppressive.

    change is good. change is necessary. life is change.

    if change scares you, if change intimidates you, if change makes you uncomfortable, then you're a BORE!

    this blog changes to reflect its continually evolving creator - moi.

    so ... adapt!

    you never know what you'll find when you get to velvet's place. that's the adventure of it all.

    this place continues to take shape, as velvet finds her voice in all this darkness.

    velvet rants, rages, throws the occasional hissy fit, launches the odd venomous tirade, and intellectually contemplates all the stuff of life, love, and soul

    its depressing, and enraging because the world burns and crumbles before our eyes. yet we sleep.

    we sleep. apathy, greed, power sit atop our eyelids like lead weights

    so, welcome to my world.

    i aim to pry your eyes open, to pry your mind open, to get you thinking outside the box, to shock you even.

    i ask the questions most choose to ignore. i think the thoughts most consider unthinkable. i'm alive. i'm awake. are you?

    hey -- WAKE UP!

  • fury wrapped in a daffodil, confused, undecided, wild child, indigo child, impatient, insomniac, rebellious, outspoken, artistic, restless, bored with routine, i love change, afraid of commitment, i work to live - not live to work, claustrophobic, perfectionist, odd and maybe downright wierd, anxious and maybe a l'il (ok, a lot) neurotic, dichotomous, a teensy bit vitrolic, prone to nastiness, a maverick and a cynic, highly intuitive, sensual, erotic, intense, spiritual -- NOT religious, a bitch, a wordsmith, poet, storyteller, addict, mother, caregiver, dog lover, voracious reader, Mac person, Coke drinker, cannibis appreciator, clean freak, prone to hissy fits, attitude - i got one, fav. colour: red, perfume: estee lauder pleasures exotic, voluptuous, afraid of falling asleep, afraid of the dark, hate being touched, still get flashbacks - PTSD, nite hawk, into fetishes, got a sadomasochistic streak in me
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methuselah lives here

    i have several poetry blogs on the 'net. essentially these contain the same stuff, just presented in differing formats. this methuselah just likes digging around in more than one corpse at a time!

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    scribbles & scratches



      afghan hound

      yes to madness





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    velvet poetry

      bell jar dreams

      you held me in your arms,
      my trembling alabaster fruit
      and savagely,
      you trampled me, underfoot
      as master of my shattered freedom
      you - the twisted and beautiful lord
      who sealed me in a windowless bell jar
      with anguish and solitude,
      as my only companions

      captor! my demented master!
      my withered soul screams for you
      it howls for the soothing barbs,
      hidden, in your voice
      and your frail, orgasmic vulnerability
      my withered soul screams your name,
      raging delicately,
      for the gaping hollows of my existence,
      which melted into yours:
      dessicated dreams,
      vanquished innocence

      this sick hunger in my heart for you -
      will it ever ebb?

      copyright ROXI G 2006

      your grace grotesquely crumbles

      your grace crumbled
      into grotesque flakes
      as your fingertips slashed
      my tender silken face
      with rage and vengence,
      that drench my frail child-spirit

      steeped in self-loathing,
      you infected me -
      my gauzy soul
      on your poisoned barbs
      of hatred and lusty greed

      once, i loved you -
      worshipped you, adored you
      and darkness
      eviscerated my heart
      as i watched this adoration stream past
      your inert, stoney heart

      my trembling eyes splinter
      into a thousand tears
      when i look upon your face -
      my reflection - in the looking glass
      you, who deserted my child-trust -
      remain, achingly, ever present

      this dark riverbed of adoration
      that flowed in my viscera for you
      has dried up; my heart --
      which once glistened sublimely inside yours,
      now lies in eternal anguish:
      dessicated, petrified, searingly denuded

      your grace crumbles
      into grotesque flakes
      of grief, rage and greed,
      soaked in the brine of remorse
      you beg, like i did, for a morsel of mercy
      but -- i will STARVE you of forgiveness

      copyright ROXI G 2006


        "there's no way around grief and loss: you can dodge it all you want, but sooner or later you just have to go into it, through it, and, hopefully, come out on the other side. the world you find there will never be the same as the world you left." (johnny cash)

        "i wore black because i liked it. i still do, and wearing it still means something to me. its still my symbol of rebellion - against a stagnant status quo, against our hypocritical houses of god, against people whose minds are closed to others' ideas." (johnny cash)

      poetry masters

        if only you would touch my heart
        if only you were to put your mouth
        to my heart
        if only you were to put your tongue
        like a red arrow
        there where my dusty heart is beating,
        if you were to blow on my heart
        near the sea, weeping,
        it would make a dark noise,
        like the drowsy sound of train wheels
        like the indecision of waters,
        like autumn in full leaf
        like blood,
        with a noise of damp flames
        burning the sky,
        with a sound like dreams
        or branches or the rain,
        or foghorns in some dismal port,
        if you were to blow on my heart
        near the sea, likea white ghost,
        in the spume of the wave,
        in the middle of the wind
        like a ghost unleashed,
        at the seashore, weeping.

        ... Pablo Neruda, from 'Bararole'

        By a route obscure and lonely,
        Haunted by ill angels only,
        Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
        On a black thrones reigns upright,
        i have reached these lands but newly
        From an ultimate dim Thule -
        From a wild wierd clime that lieth, sublime,
        Out of SPACE - out of TIME.

        ... Edgar Allan Poe, from 'Dream-Land'

      anais nin

        "and the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

        “i do not like to be just one anais, whole, contained. as soon as someone defines me. i do as june does; i seek escape from the confinements of definition.”

        “i speak of relief, perhaps when i write; but it is also an engraving of pain, a tatooing of myself.”

        “we are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.”

        “life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. this is a kind of death.”