I grr, You grr, Uyghur

For my birthday, I gave myself a present: absolution! I'm free!

I didn't finish my blog!

It's ok!

Better luck next time!

Sometimes you don't finish stuff!

You can move on and do something else!

Sure I'm a little disappointed that I couldn't manage to post 30 days in a row like I originally hoped (see this time last year). Or even 30 times in one year (that's once every 12.17 days). Sure the feelings of guilt and inadequacy stacked up and started to feel like a not nice person staring over your shoulder. But that was then. Now I'm 31, and I'm way too old for that junk.

So. This is the last post on I Grr, You Grr, Uyghur as you know it. Next time you check back, this will be a whole new deal. Fresh start. (But same address.) The new blog will be a poetry blog. It's kinda an obvious choice- I hope that means it's the right choice. I hope to entice you with examples of brevity, wordiness, alliteration, assonance, outlandish facts about poets, and maybe some palindromes if you're lucky (a man, a plan, a canal, panama!). The new name is not yet decided. You'll have to wait and see.

Here's to absolution! Try it, it's nice!

Today I'd like to share a couple of gems from Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950). The woman had a pretty terrible name, but made up for it by being a fantastic wordsmith. The first, infortunately, is a bit too close to the truth of my life. The second seems appropriate, following the meeting of my book club this weekend, in which really fantastic chicas unabashedly go gaga over books.

Grown Up
Was it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,
That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight?

from The Cairn
Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
Give back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and *prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone and you may whistle for me.


* no, that is not a typo. she really wrote 'prink.' i had to look this one up...
prink - (v) To adorn (oneself) in a showy manner. To dress or groom oneself with elaborate care or vanity; primp.

I went to UMKC last night to hear the fiery Angela Davis, activist, professor, and author, give this year's MLK keynote address. Pretty fantastic. I loved her ideas about the expanding boundaries of "freedom," collective historical memory, that our memories can be wrong. That history may seem to be spurred on by a short list of individuals (i.e. MLK), but it often starts with legions of regular brave people (i.e., black women who collectively didn't take the bus) who make it possible for these leaders to get any traction. That freedom "is not a state for which we yearn," but is an ongoing pursuit that involves every area of life: legal, financial, physical, relational, etc etc. I can see how she has been an incendiary figure at times. Quite inspirational, in terms of doing small, important work daily for big goals.

Also, I learned that the slave uprising in Haiti (1791-1803) was the only one to ever actually succeed. Timely info indeed.

Also, she has awesome hair.
Observe:
"Back in the Day":

"These days":
Thanks, Dr. Davis.

I don't really get into tv. Never really did. I have lived in my house for a good 6 months and have turned the tv on exactly twice. Maybe it's because I didn't watch all that much when I was younger -- the Bridges actually had a "ticket system." My parents bought tickets - as in the carnival/raffle tickets - and we only got so many every week. One ticket = half an hour. You watch a show, you put the appropriate number of tickets in the box. No more tickets, no more tv. Done deal. For books, no such penalty was assessed and no such control was taken. So I like to read.

Today a friend asked me why books are "so much better than tv" and elevated in some way. By this, he meant "why are you so snobby about tv?" So now I have to think about it. Here's what I've come up with so far. Should I give tv a try? Please send me your thoughts...

First, books:

Pros:

• Books leave much to imagination.
• Books must be read in intervals, leaving time for me to process and be absorbed by the story.
• Because of the time investment, a feeling of accomplishment usually follows finishing a book.
  
• Connect with one writer despite time/space separation
• Books look good on shelves.
• You get to nerd out about things like a really well put-together sentence.
  

Cons:

• Take forever to finish
• A big investment, so if you end up not really liking it, you "lost" hours and hours
• Can't be a social event; at least not while reading. (Eh, this is actually debatable. But it's not like those parties of people watching the latest Lost episode.)

Next, TV...

Pros:

• A TV show is short- you can finish the experience in less than an hour. Instant gratification is nice.
• A TV show is short - if you didn't like it, you didn't lose that much time.
• More senses involved in watching tv.
  
• TV can be a social event.
• You can talk with all those other people who watch "that show," whatever it is, so you don't turn irrelevant when the conversation (inevitably) turns to tv.

Cons:

• Addictive. People's hours and days get swallowed up, barely noticed.
• Here and then gone. Doesn't leave time for processing along the way.
• So overwhelming! Where to start? Which of the 3792 tv shows is worth the while?
  
• A nice tv is really expensive. A book can be cheap, or free.

That's where we stand for the moment. I know I know, this doesn't need to be an either/or debate. I'm just fascinated by all this love for something that I can't get into. Am I shorting myself of pleasure and culture galore? Let's be honest- I'll probably stick with books. But f you want to sway me, ask me over for a viewing party and I'll consider.

P.S. Yup, this means I want to finish my "30 posts," which were supposed to coincide with the 30 days after my birthday. The new goal: finish before my next birthday. Time remaining: 13 days.