Opopanox, Home of the Arrogant Worm

Went rummage sale-ing. I got the short end of the stick this weekend, my sister managed to get to the only interesting sword on the table and she also snagged the calligraphy set b’fore I did. Still a bit peeved, as I needed a new reservoir and the set she picked up was a quite a bit more ostentatious than mine, as mine is more of a basic get-the-work-done kind. B’sides which, the quill’s were pretty. I did manage to spot a few books, though! I found a bible from 1860 in remarkably good condition, but they wanted 25 bucks, and I didn’t have that much on me. They normally don’t sell for that much here, even if the date is mid nineteenth century. There was also a metal lunch pail and a canister inside for 8 bucks from 1915, but the pail was rather banged and the canister was unusable, as it looked like the Rust Fairy had made a home inside and through the bottom. All in all, not worth it in the condition. Shame, too, I’ve been looking for a lunch pail for ages. But I did pick up Lucius Osgood’s Progressive Second Reader for fifty cents. 1840’s, thereabouts, I think. It has prose in it, although the most interesting thing would be the paragraph content and construction. There was also a slim zoology book and an introduction to Latin that I aim to pick up sometimes in the next week, God willing. Certainly looked to be a fun read, I wish I’d gone there before hitting Salvo. The covers were certainly in pristine condition, unlike the poor Second Reader, which looks, ah, like it might’ve been lying around in a musty wet place as the cover isn’t in the best condition. The cover is solid, don’t get me wrong, but it’s in terribly bad form and the print on the front are just ~this~ side of discernible. I got the second reader before I found the zoology and Latin books, (different places) so there wasn’t much choice in the matter as poor old Lucius was already bought. If anyone else is interested in old books, small town PA is the place to look. Small towns anywhere, I suppose would be a good place. I also picked up a wooden block set for three bucks! Happy about that, I can make messages with the letters. Been looking for a set of those for the last fifteen years, would you believe it? I was attracted to the box it came in, so I opened it, and there they were. Best bought-find all day, so it wasn’t a total waste.

A verse from Osgood’s Second Reader in lesson XXXV. (Thirty-five, for those not familiar with the numbers)

I love to see
The busy bee–
I love to watch the hive ;
When the sun’s hot,
They linger not,
It makes them all alive.

God gives them skill,
And, with good will,
They to their work attend ;
Each little cell
Is shaped so well,
That none their work can mend.

Now in, now out,
They move about,
Yet all in order true ;
Each seems to know
Both where to go
And what it has to do.

‘Mid summer’s heat,
The honey sweet
It gathers while it may,
In tiny drops ;
And never stops
To waste its time in play.

I hear it come,
I know its hum ;
It flies from flower to flower :
And to its store
A little more
It adds, each day and hour.

Just so should I My heart apply,
My proper work to mind–
Look for some sweet
In all I meet,
And store up all I find.

You might also be interested to know, though probably not surprised, that the book includes the story of creation from Genesis (lesson IV). It also has an interesting (but rather short) list on how many pauses come after a type of punctuation mark in with the farwarning in the ‘notes to the teachers’ not to teach a word unless you’re quite sure on the pronunciation, and it advises to look in a dictionary if you’ve doubts about what exactly you’re doing. Some of the lessons seem fine, but some ~ like XIII, the one where two children brought an orphan home and their mother said she wasn’t sure about feeding or clothing her, because “It is not true kindness to give anything to such persons, for it does not help them, but only makes them worse, and it is just the same thing as paying them for being idle and lazy.” Then the little girl talked to the children’s mother (who let her sleep in the house for three hours), mentioned that she was rested and would be on her way, The mother said that it would not be easy finding work et al; so the the girl (Susan, her name was. She wasn’t named until the second story.) and that her deceased father taught her to pray and that God would take care of her and the mother seemed suitably impressed, so she fed and clothed her in exchange for work, although it doesn’t say what kind. Well, seemed to me a bit …rank, the whole ‘let’s ignore a hungry and shoddily dressed homeless child because we wouldn’t want to encourage laziness”. All in all, I find I like the verse better than the lessons.

I left a comment on Pendagon about Amanda Marcotte’s book, specifically, the pictures in it. It hasn’t as of yet been approved, and I wish I hadn’t accidentally copied over it when I moved the basic post to the wordpress box so I could add on to it. It went something like this, not an exact quote, but damn close because the memory is still quite fresh.

“I didn’t read the book. They don’t sell it here, but I did get to see several of the illustrations. Is it normal for a feminist book to depict people of color attacking a white heroine, and subtly encouraging placing people of color in the perpetuating violence and bigotry role? I didn’t think it was supposed to be. I suggest you talk to whomever okayed those images to be published, whether it was the publisher or yourself, and if it was the publisher, find a new publisher.”

I wish I had the exact comment. Tried posting a reply to Foucault which I did have the forthought to copy, but who knows if it’ll show, so here we go.

“To me, the stuff going on at Feministe is part of what is wrong with America: this fixation with “trauma culture.” Fine, these images are hurtful to you. But why do people expect that someone must apologize and repent each time their feelings are hurt?”

Foucault,

My first comment hasn’t been approved as of yet, and it would’ve answered that question. So I’ll try again. Do feminist book illustrations normally depict people of color in an aggressive role, and in so doing connect them to what is being fought against, in this case sexism? I didn’t think think they were supposed to. If it were a retro style comic depicting the women normally found therein and putting them in such a role, I’d be very, very surprised if it wasn’t noticed as what it was; encouraging women as being thought of as something to be against, and perpetuating Bad Things. “Oh, your feelings are hurt, but it certainly isn’t my fault you feel that way!” (meanwhile, as the racism just keeps a’flowing from the illustrations) just about sums that up, doesn’t it.

-In other news, the anti-spam measure leaves something to be desired. I can’t discern half the crap on there and there’s no refresh image option to bring one in that I might be able to recognize. I don’t see a sound symbol for others to try and listen to it, either. The amount of leaving the site and coming back to get a new word verification so that a comment can be posted is ridiculous.

I find it very hard to believe that people can’t see what the hell is wrong with those illustrations. The cover I could almost understand people missing, as I had to squint to discern the backround when I first saw it, but the other pictures are quite clear. The illustrations are neither funny or ‘having a good laugh along the way’ (Unless, of course, they mean at someone else’s expense) such as Alternet’s interview with Marcotte suggested about the book. What those illustrations are is foul. I wonder what went on through the heads of the compilers? “Oh, no one who means anything will notice, and if they should happen to recognize it, we’ll brush it off as insignificant, not worthy of real critique of the problems”. Or did they not even consider it at all? I think it’s probably the latter, and in a way, that may be worse. Ignorance is hard to root out. Can’t miss the blatant stick-people-of-color-as-representations-of-outdated-&-hurtful-attitudes-towards-(white) women/people role? Yes, there, I typed it. Sexism and gendered expectations show in many forms, and each are subtly (and not so subtly) different from each other the more -isms that are directed a person. I’ve no doubt that shows in a book (you know, besides in the illustrations), as individual conceptions shade all manner of written material. Having people brush off the statement of “Dude, you’re illustrations ….they’re a bit septic, man” with screeches of “No, no! No they’re not! I/she already changed the cover once, you peons, why don’t you/they like me?!” doesn’t ~quite~ fly. I highly doubt Marcotte chose those particular illustrations, but she did okay the book cover change, and with the cover comes a certain theme that, I would think, would be hard for someone working in a feminist sphere to be unaware of. Especially when the people of color in the illustrations resemble quite a few stereotypical depictions of PoC that’re still found in a hell a lot of things, like cartoons and comics, and let’s be clear now, those were racist cartoons I saw on Warner Brothers as a child which are what the illustrations in Marcotte’s book strongly resemble. And even if there was no way Amanda saw those illustrations before printing, only after the fact, there was and is plenty of time to bring the problems of the illustrations up now, while she’s promoting the book. But you know, I haven’t seen anything from her resembling a discussion or apology for brushing it aside, and at this point I don’t think it’s likely to be forthcoming.

Link located here for Survival Guide for Life in a Sexist Society, interview with Amanda Marcotte on AlterNet

Link to Pandagon page featuring deplorable comments about why people are ‘whining’ about the illustrations here

“More Reading Fun” …how apropos, if only the fun were in ‘ ‘ marks.

-Edited, I see my first comment there was left by the wayside, but my second managed to make it in. It didn’t give me any type of error message when I first posted it, so I’m doubtful of whether it just disappeared into the ether all on its own, but I suppose anything’s possible.

Ah, work. I’ve put in several applications to various places, and I’m looking forward (and not) to with luck, getting hired. There’s a bit of a dualism here. When I’m working, people often react as if I’m angry or too serious. Which is a damn shame, because all I’m doing is trying to pay attention to whatever job I’m on, because I normally get shunted off to something I cannot actually do with any ease, generally involving small keys I’m not familiar with or computer screen with horrible color combinations and small font. Cashier wasn’t a bad job, I liked that one alright. Scan items, receive payment, make change, bag items, next costumer. Very nice.

I keep trying to get stocking jobs, but none of the department stores ever seem to be hiring. Hell, half of the people there got replaced with electronic tellers, which should give a clue to how eager the companies are to hire new employees.

When I’m not at a job, I’m either read as too serious, ‘irritable’, or ’spaced out’. I’m not sure how people think I’m irritable when I’m not doing anything but, say, waiting patiently in line at the grocers or folding clothes at the laundromat. I also haven’t figured out the reason strangers feel the need to comment. That does tend to make me irritable, normally if it happens several times in one day. I haven’t figured out the ’spaced out’, either. I’m even generally looking in their direction, and still it comes, the ‘Earth to Worm, come in Worm!’ or some such similar statement-question. It isn’t as if I’m not paying attention. I’ve taken to reciting the other person(s) last sentence(s) to prove that I am, in fact, aware and paying attention to my surroundings.

Also, I’ve been meaning to put a payment on my electric bill, but I’m scared of the automated teller. There’s money waiting for the electronic transfer to take it out, but the teller doesn’t mention my name or repeat my bank information at all, so it makes me leery that it will horribly screw up, and for the life of me I cannot find a human to talk to from the phone numbers listed on the bill. What’s worse is when the voice goes through the list of options, you have to wait until it’s done speaking to choose. N’by the time it gets done, I normally lose what selection I was sure I needed because I was focusing so hard on the list.

On the upside, I found a small red box when I was rooting around for my debit card earlier. ^.^ I’ve had a slight obsession for containers since I was small. Doesn’t particularly matter on the shape, size or material, but I prefer if they have lids. Which makes it really hard to throw out plastic food containers, unfortunately. I try’n limit myself to the really interestingly shaped ones there, fer instance, the three-storaged black one with a see-through lid that held summer sausages. Anyway, found the really cool shiny red box, that was pleasingly unexpected.

Just got in from cleaning the bathroom, and heard something rather surprising coming from Dad’s cable box while I was finishing with the tub. A prostitution ring was caught in one of the spa places downtown, apparently some of the workers had two jobs. I knew the town(s) had drugs galore (I mean, c’mon, I met the judge’s coke dealer a few years back, one of those ’secret users’ that everyone knows about) but I didn’t think it was large enough money-wise to support a ring. I suppose I’d forgotten about people like —-, who can afford monetarily, damn near whatever they want. They didn’t give more than a sound byte on the tv about it though, so I’ve little idea whether the workers were there because they preferred the job, had compromizing money matters or didn’t want to do the job at all but were stuck with it. I’m leaning toward the beginning-middle, but that could very well be projection. Damn, that charge has to look bad on a police record, the system certainly isn’t helping anyone there. At least, I didn’t hear anything about finding alternate employment. Probably wouldn’t, though, the town isn’t big on helping people who really need it without a speaking word edgewise, careful credentials and a hell of a long waiting list. Two were charged and several people currently in the wings.

-Edited, for some reason I typed chief of police instead of judge, damned if I know why. Was distracted earlier, that might’ve been it.

Created by OnePlusYou

Around 27.3% of the pages on your website contain cussing. This is 203% MORE than other websites who took this test. I’d like to point out that I also post book excerpts, so not all of the cursing is mine. ~shifty eyes~. I also have a habit of complaining on here, so the posts without cursing are probably few and far between, which skews the odds when all pages are totaled. I don’t swear nearly as much offline as on, and I stick to ‘blast’ and ‘hell’ when I do as I usually prefer creative descriptions, except when in, you guessed it, shock, pain or fear. Like when your mind dies and refuses to give you anything of use, I hate it when that happens. Thanks for the link, Daisy.

From your friendly neighborhood BookWorm (better’n being compared to an A.I., which happened the day before. A homicidal, humming A.I. at that. I’ll reserve judgment for when I actually see the backround story for info, reading about ‘Halo’ on Wiki doesn’t give quite the level of oomph & randomness I think m’friend was referencing.)

Link located to dictionary definition here

Anywho, courtesy of the Merriam-Webster dictionary, Frisk, as follows;

Main Entry: Frisk
Pronunciation: \’frisk\
Function:verb
Etymology: obsolete frisk lively
Date: 1519

intransitive verb
: to leap, skip, or dance in a lively or playful way : gambol

transitive verb
: to search (a person) for something (as a concealed weapon) by running the hand rapidly over the clothing and through the pocket

frisk·er noun.

This post is dedicated to the behavior of Laurelin (and everyone else who sees fit to comment on words and terms they’re aware that they don’t know the definition of.) Something of humorous note, she first connected it to a Sexual Act Unknown, and then to checking passengers at an airport for concealed contraband. Since a definition of Fisk was kindly posted,

(and I believe it was kindly posted, I would’ve been much harsher myself as I expect people to put some modicum of effort into researching words they’re commenting on. A mistake is fine, happens to ever’body, but three in a row over the same damn word is more than enough to suggest laziness).

I supplied the other confused-with definition to make sure there’s no further mistakes. In the new century, people apparently think something along the lines of “No no, I won’t bother before assumptions are made about words and banners and ceiling wax and kings n’things I’m unsure of before I put forth my opinion”. “Fisk the Bitch?”? Please; it was “Frisk the Bitch”. I mean, Google search on the task bar must be terribly hard to figure out,  it isn’t as if you have the internet at your fingertips so I suppose there’s some sort of leeway. Oh wait, no, no. No leeway, because you do seem to have the internet at your disposal! My bad.

-Let me be clear. I don’t mind pointing people to the definitions of words that are badly misspelled, Fisk, however, is not one of those words. It doesn’t contain several letters that can be rearranged in English to pose a grammatical confusion, it doesn’t have multiple, complicated consonants or tricks-y multiple spellings. If you check the dictionary fisk is clearly Not There. If it is Not There, it is possibly a slang term. And if people don’t want to go paging through the dictionary, which I can sort-of understand, but then I have seven or eight of them as I find them fun to browse through, then there’s the internet. Which was not being used for what I believe was the primary purpose of it; information spreading/gathering. It is far from hard to type in ‘fisk definition of’, or ‘fisk wikipedia’. If there is no word found, ‘fisk, definition slang’ as an example will also yield results if it is a slang term. (Don’t bother with the majority of punctuation with searching word definitions, and do not put your search in sentence structures; it ‘confuses’ the computer about what you’re actually looking for and it will muddy your work with unneeded webpages). So I’d sorely appreciate adults getting off their asses and looking for themselves first when they are unsure of a thing, because people will not always be kind enough to give the definition when you’ve the ability and knowledge to find it for your own bloody self. I’m sure the person who told ‘em what the definition was didn’t mind to, but on the whole not even attempting your own research is bad behavior to encourage. Even on the rare times I stretch other’s papers (I wish they weren’t so rare (possibly because people don’t want to listen to another waxing poetic about language structure and synonyms while they’re learning why frequent word repetition in an essay is a bad thing.) they do their own research, I just double check and clean errors. My main job there is stretching out and cleaning sentence structure since that wasn’t one of the things they taught in high school and I find it easier to pass along the information in margin notes so that examples are given. N’helping with forwards and closing paragraphs, but that normally isn’t needed with the people who’re in college. High/junior high/elementary school help is another matter entirely.

Well, today seems to be a bit of an off day. My deoderant fell out of the plastic container, bounced across the rug under my table, and then when I attempted to pick it up, crumbled into small pieces. I suck at remembering to take meds, I keep forgetting after the fact, so might be a good idea to pick up one of those numbered-day boxes again. And I swear to God the bottle smells like ass, I haven’t figured out why. Is it supposed to smell like that? I didn’t think it was…. And then there’s the feeling of being kicked in the gut, as period snuck up on me after two n’ 3/4ths of a month after being in absentia. Seriously, something has got to be done about that specifically, sooner rather than later, preferably. Ma’s going into her ‘we need to move so I can get a better job’ speil again. I’d be more sympathetic if she would quite the simultaneous “You need to get off your ass and get a job’ versus the “You can’t see well enough, don’t even try’. Nevermind that I put in applications and sometimes even get interviews (Hell, I’ve even been hired before, imagine that!), nope, instead it’s ‘you don’t try/ try hard enough’. Now there’s something I wonder if a goodly chunk of the American population realizes exists, that nice double-bind they keep putting people with differing abilities in. Then there’s the ‘It’s illegal to discriminate, it’s already fixed’ statement that people like to bandy about should I actually bring it up. Fixed, is it? Must’ve missed that particular memo. It’s just the ‘I’ statements from my mother are irritating the hell out’ve me, as she doesn’t listen or try to help me out with mine, and yet I’m expected to give unconditional help with finding her another job.

Oi, Daisy, I remembered something I thought you’d enjoy, being as some soul left you a Chick Tract. From Ghastly’s Ghastly comics, link located to the specific one below,

Link located here

A possibly not so novel use for Chick Tracts when in dire need. They are an interesting read, I’ll give ‘em that. Haven’t read ‘em all, but I did peruse them a while back.

Caption: A four paneled vertical comic by Ghastly at Ghastly’s Ghastly comics, the first panel featuring a tentacled monster sitting on a commode in a bathroom stall, glaring at an empty toilet paper role. The speech bubble has him cursing, “Son of a Bitch! Dammit! Think fast, Nort, think fast.”

The second panel is an outside view of several stall doors, of which several tentacles can be seen in one while the rest are empty. The speech bubble questions “Hello? Is anyone out there? I’m a gay Catholic communist freemason, who loves to play Dungeons and Dragons on Halloween with Wiccans!”

The third panel has a young man swinging in from the ceiling in a pressed white shirt and tie ensemble, shouting, “Vile heathen SCUM! Eat flaming redemption, evil-doer!” while he throws Jack Chick religious tracks over the stall door.

The fourth panel has panned back to the grinning monster,who’s flipping through one of the miniature comic tracks that were chucked at him, while two other booklets bounce off the back of the stall wall, with the speech bubble of “Thanks Dude! You saved my Ass! Who says there’s no use for Chick Tracts?

Whatever happened to Spring? It’s a good question, honest. The answers aren’t pretty, though, as they involve global warming and the rapid destruction of Earth. Spring has passed us by here in the mountains, without nary a by-your-leave. We had perhaps a week and a half of it, at the most. Rain every three days on the nose, followed by two days of mildly warm weather. And then…it disappeared. The weather seems to have loped into Summer. And it’s much too hot, at least by my reasoning, but I rarely do well in heat. I wilt something horrible, makes me sluggish. The clothes don’t help, and binding makes it worse. Much more comfortable in Winter. My favorite season would have to be Fall, though, with Winter a close second. Fall just smells better, with the wetness and decomposing leaves. Also a wonderful respite from the mugginess of Summer, though a fan is still needed on occasion. Plus, the mosquito population drops significantly, can’t argue with that. When I was younger, the heat didn’t bother me. Must be one of those advantages of childhood that people lose as they get older, like walking across gravel in bare feet and not being bothered. I carry sandles in the summer for the insides of buildings, so the bottoms of my feet get mighty callused, but still, the loose gravel from the pavement here (which is pitted and cracked a bit with age, like most parking lots) hurts, like bluntly-sharp pricks. I miss Fall. I find I miss the gradually warming days of April, too, as there’s been nothing gradual about it. Just BOOM, right into stiffling heat with no breeze. It wouldn’t be so bad if there was a breeze, I don’t think. It’s 84 degrees, and no wind in sight. I find I don’t like the cloudless skies as much as I used to, I want to move to somewhere overcast. That’s the nice thing about a bike, though. There’s always a breeze when you ride in the summer, no matter the weather, and you don’t have to depend on a fan to get it. Just your legs, and I’m pretty sure mine are going to protest after the prolonged absence from biking most of the Winter. (I walk in Winter, less chance of falling on my ass from ice). I do miss the fresh scent of Spring, though.

-A tip, if anyone makes a hollow book. Choose a large hardcover or a very thick paperback (Ann Rynd’s ‘Atlas Shrugged’ would be a decent choice, for instance) and instead of leaving only 3/4’s or an inch and a half of border on the inside of the cut pages, leave at least two inches, and make sure there’s a good quarter of an inch of extra pages untouched at the beginning. Don’t put the glue and water mix on the outside, and when the cutting is done, just coat the walls of the inside hole. That way the book doesn’t look as if it fell in the bath and the three outside paged edges aren’t stiff to the touch, you can still run your fingers over them as some people are wont to do in boredom. Less chance of being noticed that way. Also less chance of being noticed if a paperback is used, although cutting that is tricky, a hard cardboard back is needed to catch the extra pressure from the blade. You also want to leave at least a half inch at the back of your book of pages so it’s firm. From the brief research, people pretty much never use paperbacks, so it isn’t a bad idea to have a few boring hollow titles that are floating around for various rainy day stashes, or places to hide something important to you. I don’t suggest hiding anything terribly important, however, unless you have at least a thousand books to mix the hollow one in with on the off chance you get burgled. I also had a thought on how to change the hollow can’s construction and placement to be much less inconspicuous as they normally are. I believe it’ll work better with the changes, and I highly doubt they’ll ever be picked up by anyone but yourself. I’d like to run a few tests first after construction, though, to see how it goes, and if it works I’ll post it. It’ll be a while, though.

Link to Hollow Book Craft located here

Stepping in relatively quickly about the links, in case anyone was wondering – BrownFemiPower has nuked her blog for a multitude of reasons (none of which I’ve posted or commented about, others have done a much more concise and better job than I of handling Seal Press’s assholishness and A.M.’s, well, there’s a lot of crap there, I’m afraid, beginning A.M’s failure to give proper credit and as far as I’m concerned, ganking of material. Putting a white face on what WoC have been saying for years and when called, proceed to “But …butbutbut, my cah-reeeer…”, as if an attack on it by women of color had actually existed. Completely fucking ridiculous. Yes, lots there. Actually, I haven’t posted or commented much in the way of relevance for quite some time (I’m going to try and start small, work my way up to intricate words with meaning) as I’m trying to get my mind together ~ seems to be slow going, unfortunately. Autism Diva hasn’t posted since Oct. of 2007, and I’ve little clue where she’s at. The links will be staying, because I’m hoping both return. Grumpy Old Book Man has also been on a hiatus, but his was announced. Glad of the announcement, since bloggers drop like flies it’s nice to know they didn’t just up and disappear. “Disability is an Art” unfortunately, has been dead since ‘05, but I like the page so it’s staying. So there. SlyCivilian’s blog isn’t working, but he did mention something about not blogging lately, but I wouldn’t think that would give me a white page with a long error message, so I ain’t sure what’s happening on that one. Bestante seems to have deleted her blog, but she’s still floating around. The link will be leaving as I doubt she’ll be back under that one. Rest in peace, the creator of Old Roads whom I’m horribly late for as he passed away several months ago and names were never my strong suite. His 13 year old website, however, is still going strong and sorely appreciated by many. Unfortunately I can’t fine his name on the pages, either.

-Edited, damn, my bad. Autism Diva was one of those blogs that’re in my bookmarks but not yet on the link list.

Ah, dammit. There’s a splinter from a thorn somewhere in the crease of my right thumb from a week and a half or so ago that I thought would’ve worked its way out by now, but instead of being a good little sliver and doing like its expected (because I couldn’t get that last little smidge, kept escaping) it went and got itself infected. So it hurts to bend it, but at least the puss was clear when I managed to drain a bit of it trying to get to the sliver. Even tried an x-acto knife to pick the top few layers of skin off (very carefully!), figured I’d be able to reach it that way, but it was a no-go. Apparently, it’s too deep. Needle didn’t help, either. I hate thorny trees.