A Super-Rocking Accio Deathly Hallows @ Leakycon 2011
Look at Hank go! Unbound by guitar! Backed by awesome wrockers! Balloons! Insane crowd! It was an excellent (dare we say magical?) night.
I missed this because I had to go home sick, but wow! The leakycon magic!
My Trip to the Dominican Republic: A Memoir
Day 1 - Everyone Decides I’m a Lesbian:
I usually dress in dark colors, especially black & blue - my fashion statement is “Bruised”. I also prefer a minimalist aesthetic when it comes to clothes, make-up, & hair (I’m sorry if that makes me sound like a pretentious twat, but “I prefer a minimalist aesthetic” sounds classier than “I’m a lazy slattern”). This makes me stick out around here, as women my age look like Technicolor bombshells- overtly sexy, brightly colored, feminine outfits, full make-up, etc. I am feeling pretty suave sauntering around in my Katharine Hepburnesque threads when Monica, my traveling companion, informs me that her family & some neighbors have convened at the local beauty parlor to discuss the foreign visitor & the consensus is that my outfits are definitely bicurious.
As men swarm around me at a party that night, it’s clear the rumor that I’ve forsaken the sword for the chalice has spread & that it is titillating, not off-putting. Monica is disgusted, but because I’m an optimistic, U-haul half-full kind of fake lesbian, I choose to see this positively – I love “brotherhood of man” moments, in which we see that humans everywhere are more alike than they are different and that certain things are universal, like love of family, the desire for a better life, or prurient interest in the sex lives of long-haired lesbians.
Day 2 - The Funeral
The main reason I am in DR is to accompany Monica to her grandmother’s funeral. Everyone hated her, which means we have to sit through an hour of people reminiscing about what a wonderful woman she was. Afterwards, as we get ready to go into the graveyard, Monica’s mother unsuccessfully tries to fit her hat on my head to shield my face from the sun.
“You have a very big head. You will need a man’s hat” she says, giving the other women a meaningful look. I look at them too – they all have small, delicately feminine heads and they’re all staring gravely at my bulbous skull, no doubt wondering if its masculine proportions are the tragic result of a steady diet of perversion & vagina.
Three gentlemen walk into the room. Intriguingly, they are all holding hammers, but otherwise seem appropriately-attired and non-psychotic. I mention this so you can better understand how surprised I am when they stroll over to the coffin containing Monica’s grandmother and begin repeatedly smashing the hammers against the lid. A fourth gentleman joins them. He’s obviously the creative one, because he’s chosen a knife, which he uses to carve scratches into the coffin’s sides.
Now, this seems like a remarkable turn of events, but the other guests are calmly milling around the room, completely uninterested in the four guys going to town on Grandma’s final resting place. Actually, most people are staring at me. I am sitting stock-still, my hand pointing at the melee, my face frozen into an open-mouthed gape. I am a sculpture titled, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot in Repose.
Monica’s father explains – in many parts of DR, grave-robbing is a major problem. Shortly after a burial, thieves will go to the cemetery at night, dig up the coffin, toss out its inhabitant, and take the coffin. Often, they will also rob the corpse itself – some guests had stories about relatives who were stripped of the jewelry, gold teeth, and clothes they were buried with. So, to dissuade thieves, the family will damage the coffin before putting it in the ground to destroy its resale value.
(Why keep burying people in expensive coffins? Well, nobody wants to bury their loved one in something cheap, for sentimental reasons and because to do so would make the family look bad).
After the ceremony is over, I walk over to the gravediggers who are preparing to get to work. All of them are Haitian migrants. One of them, Alix, is shaking his head as he stares at the departing guests. “Look at them. Dominicans look down on us,” he says, referring to the profound racism Haitians are subjected to in DR, “But look at how they act, how they rob each other’s graves!”
“You mean thieves don’t steal coffins in Haiti?”
“Oh, they steal,” replied Alix. “But our thieves wouldn’t leave your grandmother lying naked out in the open, like she is garbage. They will steal the coffin and put her back in the ground. They have respect!”
I non-sarcastically agreed that this seemed like an important distinction. Tripping over your dead, naked Nana when you visit her grave sounds fairly traumatic, so I can appreciate people who make an extra effort to be more sensitive graverobbers.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antipodes
The antipodes of any place on the Earth is the place that is diametrically opposite it, so a line drawn from the one to the other passes through the centre of the Earth and forms a true diameter. For example, the antipodes of New Zealand’s lower North Island lies in Spain. Most of the Earth’s land surfaces have ocean at their antipodes, this being a consequence of most land being in the land hemisphere.
Teese Vegan Cheese now available at Whole Foods in California, Nevada, Arizona, and Hawaii!
We are so excited about this (and hope you are too)! To celebrate this great news we’re offering you a $1 off coupon! You’d be silly to not pick some Teese up. SILLY!
Teese Vegan Cheese…
HELP!
Doctors Without Borders teams, who were already working on ongoing medical projects in Haiti, are seeing significant damage to our medical facilities after the earthquake struck, injuries to patients and staff, and an influx of wounded men, women, and children in need of care.
MSF aid workers have set up emergency clinics, some in tents, to replace our own damaged medical centers and have treated more than 800 injured people so far.
Right now, our teams are working to ensure the safety and continued care of patients admitted to our hospitals and clinics throughout the city. We are currently transporting additional staff and emergency supplies into Haiti, opening a 100 bed hospital, and constructing an inflatable surgical unit consisting of 2 operating theaters and 7 hospitalization tents.
Please help us provide urgently needed support to our emergency response and ongoing emergency medical work in Haiti.
I’ve got nothing…
But The Making of Star Wars does (p156), which you should own if you’re reading this I might add. The Sandcrawler set, as seen here anyway - it was later moved to a canyon - was placed near the border between Tunisia and Libya, and had to be inspected by the Libyan army, who suspected it to be part of a military mobilization.
The set itself only reached a couple of meters above frame, as you can see in this photo.
Also it cost $128.000 anno 1976.
PS: No wonder ‘red’ blew a casket, check out that guy pulling all the wires out of him!
