Today I...
-finished watching "the piano teacher."
-got my face waxed.
-watched "bowling for columbine."
And now, I will write...
America the Beautiful.
God shed his grace on thee--
and crown thy good,
with brotherhood
from sea to shining...
the sky is grey today.
if I could view the sea from here
I doubt it would be blue
America, what is beautiful?
Here there is so much hate, fear...
A month ago, I decided
that who we are is made up of,
what are we afraid of?
We are who and what we fear.
I didn't think that this perhaps was just an american thing.
--It might be universal,
but here our fears are so specifically defined.
A few months ago I went to a women in advertising symposim at northwestern university.
During the day, there were many speakers-
there were female CEOs of advertising agencies
and then the activists...
the feminists...
the question posed was,
can there be feminism in advertising?...
My roommate is a feminist.
I am not.
Well, I am... in the sense that
of course I think men and women should have equal rights
moreso, like many others in my generation
I just hate the term.
Feminist.
It seems that all the liberal far to the left wing anti-gun pro-choice lets all legalize pot say we'd rather choose anarchy than give in to the conservative right also identify with the term- feminism. feminist.
And due to the english language already being filled with definitions of every last word imaginable. Almost. I can't say I'm a humanist, because, well...
[humanist
adj
1: of or pertaining to Renaissance humanism; "the humanistic revival of learning" [syn: humanistic]
2: of or pertaining to a philosophy asserting human dignity and man's capacity for fulfillment through reason and scientific method and often rejecting religion; "the humanist belief in continuous emergent evolution"- Wendell Thomas [syn: humanistic]
3: pertaining to or concerned with the humanities; "humanistic studies"; "a humane education" [syn: humanistic, humane]
4: marked by humanistic values and devotion to human welfare; "a humane physician"; "released the prisoner for humanitarian reasons"; "respect and humanistic regard for all members of our species" [syn: human-centered, humanistic, humanitarian]
n
1: a classical scholar or student of the liberal arts
2: an advocate of the principles of humanism
Hmm...
Well, if I say I'm a humanist,
no one will know what I mean.
If I say I'm a feminist,
I might be using the correct word
but it just sounds
it sounds...
feminist
adj : of or relating to or advocating equal rights for women; "feminist critique" n : a supporter of feminism [syn: women's rightist, women's liberationist, libber]
The way I see it is, anyone out there who doesn't actually believe in the principles of feminism needs to be taught a thing or two...
but using the word, feminist,
...
I don't know.
My father is usually the representative of the conservative right in my world view.
My fucked up father who has so many things screwed up about him, it can't be funny.
I don't know if everyone is like that...
what he's like.
They're interesting...
the white male republican.
Hiding behind a wall of lies,
because they are afraid.
In Angels in America,
there is that Roy Cohn character-
a true character,
a real person who existed in the 80s
in history...
a man who had AIDS
slept with men
said he was straight...
and my father-
an overweight,
hot tempered diabetic
who apparently has some fetishes
that are not at all socially correct-
I know this because my mother feels the need to complain often about my fathers addiction to pornography on the internet
and due to- out of innocent curiousity- looking to see exactly what type of things he was looking at on the net-
a simple click on this history icon up top in internet explorer and I'm in to my fathers sick mind...
sick? Not sick in a dirty way--
although, some of the things are-
but, sick in a- god, my dad is so trapped-
these white men who control our country
they're just scared
they don't want to show that they're afraid--
my dad... escapes into this perverse world
he thinks no one knows.
I know.
my mom knows.
What would happen if he knew we found out?
I'm sure at first he would get angry.
He'd hide his shame with anger
he'd say we have no right to be looking around in his personal business...
What would he do?
I have my secrets.
I'm just like my father.
I don't think the things I get off on are nearly as disgusting as what he looks at...
but I guess that's all in a matter of opinion.
I am quite screwed up in the head as well.
But I often wonder if everyone is,
especially those who say they aren't-
america the beautiful
god shed his grace on thee-
prozac nation.
On one hand, you got people like my mother, who believe that if drugs can help a bit than take drugs.
Take the ritalin.
The xantax.
The lithium.
The zoloft.
Take them all until you can be a zombie.
Sure... because then you'll be happy, right?
And then there is my father-
who doesn't like going to doctors
who would never take brain pills
who barely takes care of his actual physical illnesses--
would a pill help him?
a once a day pill to drown his mind?
Probably.
It would help everyone.
Help everyone to choas
on the other end of the spectrum.
God, I hate this country-
everyone says, well at least you have your freedom
at least you have your life
look at you-
look at me
a middle class citizen.
upper middle class...
i can afford a membership on suicidegirls...
i can buy nice clothes
and have an apartment to sleep in every night.
In yuppieville, aka lincoln park, nonetheless-
and I don't have as much as many people here
who want to pretend that it all works
that something is working in this country
because don't we have a house?
aren't we able to go to disneyworld
and go see broadway plays
for $100 a seat.
something must be working-
so why fuck with the system?
we're doing just fine.
I saw those kids on the native american reservation
they were happy kids
now christian kids
100 years of christianity
as the world turns
changes
producing hate
violence--
I wanted to vomit watching the movie today
bowling for columbine
felt like I was going to spit out my insides
my embaressment of being an american is nauseating.
Is it better elsewhere?
I know micheal moore used the documentary to show that guns aren't as big of a problem anywhere else in the world-
and he did a good job at that
but there are other problems
western problems
world problems...
that are still being ignored.
At the women in advertising conference
one of the speakers spoke on how advertising shapes the ideals of beauty in the country and how when we need children to be born the beauty ideal is voluputous and obviously child-baring and otherwise we get the boyish twig ideal that is pretty much what all us american girls strive to look like today.
As I lied down on the table in the back of the nail salon and felt the hot wax tingle on my skin, I wrote an invisable poem in the depths of my mind-
becoming a woman.
as the hot wax drips
and the paper sheets placed on
a pull, a rip, a sting-
hair so tightly rooted
tugged out from below my flesh
only to grow back tomorrow-
or the next day.
Becoming a woman.
An american woman.
shaving cream,
deoderant.
pimple reducer
concealer
power puff
face wash
pore minimizer
forgotten sit ups
chocolate.
I want some...
no, don't eat that
you'll get fat.
you already are fat.
put on the lipstick
the blush
if you want
get a piercing or two
so those alternative kids will like you
blonde hair?
at least now you're alright as a brunette
the american woman comes in all colors
of feria.
The American woman is not africian american
or chinese
or hispanic.
or indian.
or isreali
the minority is american.
but not the american beauty.
There is no diversity when it comes to this ideal-
the american woman
is not jewish
does not have a big nose,
the amerrican woman has perfect teeth,
not crooked, yellow teeth.
she does not have hair growing from under her chin
or down the sides of her face.
The american woman has a perfectly symetrical face
no double chin
perky breasts
size 34b or c...
a tiny waistline
flat stomach
rock hard abs
a belly button ring.
with a playboy bunny decoration.
hip hugging pants,
clinging to the sides of her non existant curves-
her thighs do not touch.
her legs are long and thin
her toes are pedicured and polished
even her feet are beautiful.
They do not smell.
She does not perspire.
She only has to shave every three days
because her hair grows back so slowly
she is that much a woman.
that feminine.
I will never be the american woman,
so why do I try?
To follow the rules set by the white man
my father?
my father who looks at-
inscest... and men pissing on other woman and- he reads stories of boys sleeping with their mothers and...
jesus fucking christ-
there is something wrong with this world.
something terribly wrong
and not enough people care
my good friend was sexually abused by three men as a child
three different men!
she's too scared to tell her parents-
how many children are silenced?
When I told my father about this,
he didn't believe me at first.
when I told him her parents were hippies
(yes, pot smoking hippies)
he said- oh, that makes sense.
I want to scream out, dad- I was lucky
do you know how lucky I was?
mom told me...
she must have told me, don't let anyone touch you-
I don't remember you telling me
no one ever touched me
I was fortunate.
what would I have done if someone did?
--my friend says her parents never told her not to let anyone touch her
she didn't know it was wrong-
when an adult does something to you
and you're a child
the adult is automatically right
isn't that how we're trained
the adult is right?
ha- the adults---
the adults?
I am an adult, now
20 years old
and as an adult
as an adult who has spoken to other adults,
observed a bit-
I see how screwed up we all are
how scared to talk about the real issues
In that movie, The piano teacher,
a woman- the piano teacher- lives with an overprotective mother. the piano teacher is older. she must be thirty or so. This younger man falls for her. But she cannot let go of her mother. She doesn't know what she wants. She writes the man a letter telling him to tie her up, to beat her and sleep with her. That is what she wants. Towards the end of the movie she jumps ontop of her mother and starts to kiss her and says, "I love you- I love you."
Again, I felt nauseous
there was so much sadness
but in this foriegn film
this fucked up french film
some filmmaker was courageous enough
to put something that screwed up on the screen
see- in america, we can make movies- art- etc- that show some fuckedupness,
but only when drugs are involved,
ala requim for a dream-
because drugs are an excuse
they make people crazy
and they do-- they do--
but we're already crazy
and that is what no one wants to admit to-
I did it because of the drugs,
I-- drank too much-- I didn't mean what I said--
I meant everything.
Now. Sober. Here in old bridge new jersey
fucking white trash suburbia,
I admit I'm insane.
Maybe that's the first step.
I want to see george bush make an address to the america people where he says,
hello america. I just wanted to let you all know I'm insane. I am no better than the next man. The next- person. Do not romanticize my personality so that you believe I am perfect. I too, make mistakes. Yes, you heard me right, even republicans aren't perfect...
see, that's what I want to hear-
george bush,
my father,
everyone-
admit to being terrified out of their minds
seeking someone to put them at ease-
I know a lot.
and nothing at all.
I seek to fit in.
I never will.
I am crazy.
Even the loons think me insane.
What should I do?
What can I do to help?
How can I help my father?
He sits here day after day
looking at the computer
trying to avoid acknowledging the pathetic nature of his life
he's successful
but terribly unhappy.
I'm going out to dinner with him tomorrow night.
I think I will ask him if he is happy.
I wonder what he will say.
I asked my mother that.
I ask her that a lot.
She says, she is happy because she has her children.
She wouldn't do anything differently-
because then she wouldn't have us.
But I know that in reality
she'd be happier if life was different
or at least she could be... if things worked out for the better.
My father could be happy too...
but now they're stuck.
Am I stuck?
Is there anything I can do to help the world?
To help my parents?
To help myself?
American the beautiful
god shed his grace on thee
and crown thy good
with brotherhood
from sea to shining sea.
-finished watching "the piano teacher."
-got my face waxed.
-watched "bowling for columbine."
And now, I will write...
America the Beautiful.
God shed his grace on thee--
and crown thy good,
with brotherhood
from sea to shining...
the sky is grey today.
if I could view the sea from here
I doubt it would be blue
America, what is beautiful?
Here there is so much hate, fear...
A month ago, I decided
that who we are is made up of,
what are we afraid of?
We are who and what we fear.
I didn't think that this perhaps was just an american thing.
--It might be universal,
but here our fears are so specifically defined.
A few months ago I went to a women in advertising symposim at northwestern university.
During the day, there were many speakers-
there were female CEOs of advertising agencies
and then the activists...
the feminists...
the question posed was,
can there be feminism in advertising?...
My roommate is a feminist.
I am not.
Well, I am... in the sense that
of course I think men and women should have equal rights
moreso, like many others in my generation
I just hate the term.
Feminist.
It seems that all the liberal far to the left wing anti-gun pro-choice lets all legalize pot say we'd rather choose anarchy than give in to the conservative right also identify with the term- feminism. feminist.
And due to the english language already being filled with definitions of every last word imaginable. Almost. I can't say I'm a humanist, because, well...
[humanist
adj
1: of or pertaining to Renaissance humanism; "the humanistic revival of learning" [syn: humanistic]
2: of or pertaining to a philosophy asserting human dignity and man's capacity for fulfillment through reason and scientific method and often rejecting religion; "the humanist belief in continuous emergent evolution"- Wendell Thomas [syn: humanistic]
3: pertaining to or concerned with the humanities; "humanistic studies"; "a humane education" [syn: humanistic, humane]
4: marked by humanistic values and devotion to human welfare; "a humane physician"; "released the prisoner for humanitarian reasons"; "respect and humanistic regard for all members of our species" [syn: human-centered, humanistic, humanitarian]
n
1: a classical scholar or student of the liberal arts
2: an advocate of the principles of humanism
Hmm...
Well, if I say I'm a humanist,
no one will know what I mean.
If I say I'm a feminist,
I might be using the correct word
but it just sounds
it sounds...
feminist
adj : of or relating to or advocating equal rights for women; "feminist critique" n : a supporter of feminism [syn: women's rightist, women's liberationist, libber]
The way I see it is, anyone out there who doesn't actually believe in the principles of feminism needs to be taught a thing or two...
but using the word, feminist,
...
I don't know.
My father is usually the representative of the conservative right in my world view.
My fucked up father who has so many things screwed up about him, it can't be funny.
I don't know if everyone is like that...
what he's like.
They're interesting...
the white male republican.
Hiding behind a wall of lies,
because they are afraid.
In Angels in America,
there is that Roy Cohn character-
a true character,
a real person who existed in the 80s
in history...
a man who had AIDS
slept with men
said he was straight...
and my father-
an overweight,
hot tempered diabetic
who apparently has some fetishes
that are not at all socially correct-
I know this because my mother feels the need to complain often about my fathers addiction to pornography on the internet
and due to- out of innocent curiousity- looking to see exactly what type of things he was looking at on the net-
a simple click on this history icon up top in internet explorer and I'm in to my fathers sick mind...
sick? Not sick in a dirty way--
although, some of the things are-
but, sick in a- god, my dad is so trapped-
these white men who control our country
they're just scared
they don't want to show that they're afraid--
my dad... escapes into this perverse world
he thinks no one knows.
I know.
my mom knows.
What would happen if he knew we found out?
I'm sure at first he would get angry.
He'd hide his shame with anger
he'd say we have no right to be looking around in his personal business...
What would he do?
I have my secrets.
I'm just like my father.
I don't think the things I get off on are nearly as disgusting as what he looks at...
but I guess that's all in a matter of opinion.
I am quite screwed up in the head as well.
But I often wonder if everyone is,
especially those who say they aren't-
america the beautiful
god shed his grace on thee-
prozac nation.
On one hand, you got people like my mother, who believe that if drugs can help a bit than take drugs.
Take the ritalin.
The xantax.
The lithium.
The zoloft.
Take them all until you can be a zombie.
Sure... because then you'll be happy, right?
And then there is my father-
who doesn't like going to doctors
who would never take brain pills
who barely takes care of his actual physical illnesses--
would a pill help him?
a once a day pill to drown his mind?
Probably.
It would help everyone.
Help everyone to choas
on the other end of the spectrum.
God, I hate this country-
everyone says, well at least you have your freedom
at least you have your life
look at you-
look at me
a middle class citizen.
upper middle class...
i can afford a membership on suicidegirls...
i can buy nice clothes
and have an apartment to sleep in every night.
In yuppieville, aka lincoln park, nonetheless-
and I don't have as much as many people here
who want to pretend that it all works
that something is working in this country
because don't we have a house?
aren't we able to go to disneyworld
and go see broadway plays
for $100 a seat.
something must be working-
so why fuck with the system?
we're doing just fine.
I saw those kids on the native american reservation
they were happy kids
now christian kids
100 years of christianity
as the world turns
changes
producing hate
violence--
I wanted to vomit watching the movie today
bowling for columbine
felt like I was going to spit out my insides
my embaressment of being an american is nauseating.
Is it better elsewhere?
I know micheal moore used the documentary to show that guns aren't as big of a problem anywhere else in the world-
and he did a good job at that
but there are other problems
western problems
world problems...
that are still being ignored.
At the women in advertising conference
one of the speakers spoke on how advertising shapes the ideals of beauty in the country and how when we need children to be born the beauty ideal is voluputous and obviously child-baring and otherwise we get the boyish twig ideal that is pretty much what all us american girls strive to look like today.
As I lied down on the table in the back of the nail salon and felt the hot wax tingle on my skin, I wrote an invisable poem in the depths of my mind-
becoming a woman.
as the hot wax drips
and the paper sheets placed on
a pull, a rip, a sting-
hair so tightly rooted
tugged out from below my flesh
only to grow back tomorrow-
or the next day.
Becoming a woman.
An american woman.
shaving cream,
deoderant.
pimple reducer
concealer
power puff
face wash
pore minimizer
forgotten sit ups
chocolate.
I want some...
no, don't eat that
you'll get fat.
you already are fat.
put on the lipstick
the blush
if you want
get a piercing or two
so those alternative kids will like you
blonde hair?
at least now you're alright as a brunette
the american woman comes in all colors
of feria.
The American woman is not africian american
or chinese
or hispanic.
or indian.
or isreali
the minority is american.
but not the american beauty.
There is no diversity when it comes to this ideal-
the american woman
is not jewish
does not have a big nose,
the amerrican woman has perfect teeth,
not crooked, yellow teeth.
she does not have hair growing from under her chin
or down the sides of her face.
The american woman has a perfectly symetrical face
no double chin
perky breasts
size 34b or c...
a tiny waistline
flat stomach
rock hard abs
a belly button ring.
with a playboy bunny decoration.
hip hugging pants,
clinging to the sides of her non existant curves-
her thighs do not touch.
her legs are long and thin
her toes are pedicured and polished
even her feet are beautiful.
They do not smell.
She does not perspire.
She only has to shave every three days
because her hair grows back so slowly
she is that much a woman.
that feminine.
I will never be the american woman,
so why do I try?
To follow the rules set by the white man
my father?
my father who looks at-
inscest... and men pissing on other woman and- he reads stories of boys sleeping with their mothers and...
jesus fucking christ-
there is something wrong with this world.
something terribly wrong
and not enough people care
my good friend was sexually abused by three men as a child
three different men!
she's too scared to tell her parents-
how many children are silenced?
When I told my father about this,
he didn't believe me at first.
when I told him her parents were hippies
(yes, pot smoking hippies)
he said- oh, that makes sense.
I want to scream out, dad- I was lucky
do you know how lucky I was?
mom told me...
she must have told me, don't let anyone touch you-
I don't remember you telling me
no one ever touched me
I was fortunate.
what would I have done if someone did?
--my friend says her parents never told her not to let anyone touch her
she didn't know it was wrong-
when an adult does something to you
and you're a child
the adult is automatically right
isn't that how we're trained
the adult is right?
ha- the adults---
the adults?
I am an adult, now
20 years old
and as an adult
as an adult who has spoken to other adults,
observed a bit-
I see how screwed up we all are
how scared to talk about the real issues
In that movie, The piano teacher,
a woman- the piano teacher- lives with an overprotective mother. the piano teacher is older. she must be thirty or so. This younger man falls for her. But she cannot let go of her mother. She doesn't know what she wants. She writes the man a letter telling him to tie her up, to beat her and sleep with her. That is what she wants. Towards the end of the movie she jumps ontop of her mother and starts to kiss her and says, "I love you- I love you."
Again, I felt nauseous
there was so much sadness
but in this foriegn film
this fucked up french film
some filmmaker was courageous enough
to put something that screwed up on the screen
see- in america, we can make movies- art- etc- that show some fuckedupness,
but only when drugs are involved,
ala requim for a dream-
because drugs are an excuse
they make people crazy
and they do-- they do--
but we're already crazy
and that is what no one wants to admit to-
I did it because of the drugs,
I-- drank too much-- I didn't mean what I said--
I meant everything.
Now. Sober. Here in old bridge new jersey
fucking white trash suburbia,
I admit I'm insane.
Maybe that's the first step.
I want to see george bush make an address to the america people where he says,
hello america. I just wanted to let you all know I'm insane. I am no better than the next man. The next- person. Do not romanticize my personality so that you believe I am perfect. I too, make mistakes. Yes, you heard me right, even republicans aren't perfect...
see, that's what I want to hear-
george bush,
my father,
everyone-
admit to being terrified out of their minds
seeking someone to put them at ease-
I know a lot.
and nothing at all.
I seek to fit in.
I never will.
I am crazy.
Even the loons think me insane.
What should I do?
What can I do to help?
How can I help my father?
He sits here day after day
looking at the computer
trying to avoid acknowledging the pathetic nature of his life
he's successful
but terribly unhappy.
I'm going out to dinner with him tomorrow night.
I think I will ask him if he is happy.
I wonder what he will say.
I asked my mother that.
I ask her that a lot.
She says, she is happy because she has her children.
She wouldn't do anything differently-
because then she wouldn't have us.
But I know that in reality
she'd be happier if life was different
or at least she could be... if things worked out for the better.
My father could be happy too...
but now they're stuck.
Am I stuck?
Is there anything I can do to help the world?
To help my parents?
To help myself?
American the beautiful
god shed his grace on thee
and crown thy good
with brotherhood
from sea to shining sea.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
I'll have to read the rest of that later before I comment on it, but thanks for your comment - it amused me.
Yikes, you're cute!
she's doing well...I think she's in SF now visiting family. She finally got a job where she doesn't have to be on her feet all day, so she's pretty thankful.
I can see your hesitance about taking on the label of feminist. I usually do, but I always have to explain to people that my definition of feminism includes fighting against speciesism, racism, classism, and homophobia...
The word still carries a lot of baggage, however. I might drop it if they come up with a better one...