  |
 |
 |
 |
|
~b
|
 |
|
Home | Contact Me
|
 |
|
barth anderson's journal
on fatherhood, writing, food, and what not.
|
|
|
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
link
i've had two food articles out at print sources for a few weeks,
which only recently became avialable online. here they be:
did i mention i'm an uncle again? my bro mark and his wife aeron
had a baby girl: sofie lyda. she's long limbed and cute, cute, cute. i'm the youngest in my big tribe so most of my brothers
and sisters had kids a long time ago. i'm so pleased that isaiah will have a cousin his own age. looking at the jpeg mark
sent of his baby, i had a vision of the future, of a family gathering, long table, lots of wine, and hearing a crash and cries
from the other room, with me and mark yelling in unison, "sofie! iko! knock it off!"
come on, future. let's rock.
link
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
so martin sheen's boat is floating toward brando's compound, deep in cambodia. the captain of the boat has just
been killed and the surfer has been on acid for yards and yards of film. sheen is greeted by a tableau of natives
in canoes, carrying spears, made up in white face make-up. tense. forbidding. portentous. ominous.
and that's when isaiah suddenly gets the hang of blowing really loud arm-farts on lisa's wrist.
link
Monday, March 29, 2004
i can't say enough about eleanor arnason, and i'm tickled Strange Horizons seems to feel the same way. she's got
all the elements i'd want in a science fiction writer: a creatively logical mind, radical lefty politics, a superb turn of
phrase, and she's funny as shit (particularly on gender matters). when i came across A Woman of the Iron People back
in '92 or '93, i realized two things: (a) the genre was a whole lot wider than i knew and i wanted in, and (b) if the tiptree
awards loved eleanor, then i'd read everything they awarded. i did, i have, and it's been a good strategy for finding
the work i adore. now go over to Strange Horizons and have fun playing in eleanor's mind.
link
Sunday, March 28, 2004
death and texas
i sold a story to eric over at lone star stories, which is fitting since this one takes place partly in austin. feels good to place it somewhere welcoming, since
i wrote the first draft of that story, egad, back in college. this was one of the stories that earned my work the moniker
"barth's magical realism" from fellow students in madison's creative writing program, which was either a compliment or
a dig depending on who said it. i understand universities have become more accepting of genre elements in class, but this
was '86, and marquez had yet to make his way out of spanish and world lit syllabi. instructors like lorrie moore didn't
really have a context for me outside of "the twilight zone," though some professors championed my work, saying they appreciated
my efforts to "enchant norski midwest lives." which is exactly what this lone star story tries to do. should be up in april.
~
errata:
and how do you feel about colonizing death? (for me, once it's gentrified, it's all over.)
link
Saturday, March 27, 2004
an irishman, a jew, and a sleestak walk into a bar...
turning now to the freak show world of science fictional food issues, we have the frontier beyond genetically modified food. soon you'll be able to pick up interative food at the local market, kids, that would "change color, flavor of nutrients
to accomodate consumer's tastes or health conditions, and ultra-sound activated animal vaccines using nanoparticles."
last night i dreamed i was teaching a class on writing (a nightmare, for yours truly), and i was having the class write
jokes. when i woke up i thought that was a pretty damn good idea, actually. delivery and timing are essential, sure, but writing
a joke really would be a good parallel to writing fiction. i was asking my dream class, "can you see how this helps you write
with surprise?"
of course, the example that dream-teacher barth gave was just plain stupid, a tired running gag from some old friends
of mine, taking a racist joke and replacing the victimized minority in question with "sleestak."
dumb, sure, but i woke up laughing.
link
Friday, March 26, 2004
rally report
outfront minnesota held its annual lobby day at the state capitol yesterday, using it to highlight the hideous effort now formally
under way to curtail the rights of gays and lesbians in the minnesota constitution. the measure (H F 2728) passed at the house
level on wednesday, so the thursday rally had an air of edgy rancor and hostility that i'm not accustomed to at those feel-good
rallies from my madison days – let alone here in the land of ten thousand pleasantries. people were mad, the rally, down-right
surly. security wisely told the dude with the giant cross with "sodom and gomorrah" written on it to back away from the crowd.
other, more kindly christians were passing out crispy cremes as a peace offering, but getting responses like "i don't want
your goddamn donuts!" and "you can't buy me with a crispy crème, you bastard!" and even getting them thrown at their backs
when they turned away. minnesota nice? not this day.
the strib said in its print version that 3500 were there, which is bigger than the redneck rally on monday, but not nearly enough (maybe if it had been sunny, the number would have doubled). if this bill is going to get
shit-canned, supporters of gay rights have to spread the word what a mean-spirited piece of legislation this is. not only would it call for a vote that would ban gay marriages in the constitution,
it would also ban civil unions. polls show that while minnesotans don't want gay marriage, they overwhelmingly approve of
civil unions. so this is a shitty bill written by shitheads to press the nazi-wing of the republican party's agenda.
especially when one remembers that minnesota already legally defines marriage as between one man and
one woman!
personally, i don't believe that HF 2798 will pass in the senate. maybe that's me whistling in the dark, but the MN state
senate is much more progressive than the house, democratically controlled, and it has a history of voting to expand gay rights.
also, there's a compromise bill that simply prevents judges from ruling on the definition of marriage, which would provide
political cover for more centrist senators. the local media, much more interested in the cripsy creme angle, has barely
mentioned this alternate bill.
but it was a very cool day, because it was isaiah's first political rally. he held it together pretty well, though the
boom of voices made him cuddle close during the louder, angrier parts of the rally. iko also got lots of attention from photographers
and camera men, the photogenic lil cuss.
rally's lightest moment:
speaker: "we've got the twin cities on board, but now i want to address larger minnesota…"
to which the immense lesbian behind us muttered, "that would be me."
i wanted to post pics, but no time to do it right. so here.
link
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
*don't* let them have st paul!
minnesota readers:
on monday, you probably read that 3000 people marched at the capitol supporting an amendment to the state constitution
to ban same-sex marriages, institutionalizing a homophobic agenda. tomorrow's rally will be an important counter to that very
anti-minnesota message. see you there? if not, please spread the word!
link
it's hard to believe that a publication as vaunted as UK's guardian doesn't take this creeping menace more seriously.
link
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
wanting is not always as good as having
last night, isaiah crawled all around the apartment in hot pursuit of karintha the old diva cat. until now, he's pretty
much kept to the green area rug in the living room, or the safety of the carpeted sun room, so this was cool. karintha wasn't
too nervous about him catching her, but she'd sort of shrug past him if he got too close, you know, like a bitchy teen-age
girl trying to get past a geek in the hallway. unphased, he'd pivot on his diaper and plug away after her. this grueling,
slow-motion chase scene went on for about a half-hour until isaiah finally got her by the tail and karintha spun and
swung at him with a fast cat-bap aimed at his nose. we were hovering, so she didn't really make contact, but her speed freaked
him out, i think - tears immediately stood in his eyes and he started bawling, angry angry.
then his mamasan nursed him and he passed out for twelve hours.
link
Monday, March 22, 2004
this makes me very, very happy (scroll down to short stories). but i must know: what's up with RotK not getting nominated
for best flaming gay epic?
link
Sunday, March 21, 2004
link
oh, and allow me to introduce you to the great state of minnesota's next senator.
link
i've been doing a lot of research for the Wedge's Fair Trade principles, especially on migrant labor practices. in the
organic ag world, most farmers sincerely want to do right by their workers. my friend mark told me that at red cardinal organic
farm, where he interned, the joke was that the migrant hmong workers would eventually buy their own farms and hire away all
of RC's anglo interns (mark made $5/hr, while the hmong workers made over $10/hr). while i totally believe in the organic
movement, i'm trying to widen the net to draw in "non-organic" farms under our Fair Trade label, since there are plenty of
socially and environmentally responsible farmers in MN and WI, whose veggies our shoppers would devour just as greedily.
"We 'need to become independent of the world market economy because the world market economy is ultimately controlled
by interests which seek power or profit and which do not respond to the need of the world's peoples.' - Basic Call to Consciousness,
Akwesasne Notes
"As fundamental as the economic issues are the cultural implications of the current industrial food system, which separates
those who eat from the source of their food. In this alienating system, food becomes a commodity, plant varieties become genetic
property, farmers become producers, farm workers become wage laborers, and members of communities are converted into individual
consumers, while market forces manipulate all these elements for maximum profits by agribusiness..."
keep all of that hot in your memory till 2008.
link
Friday, March 19, 2004
~
i got about 4 hours of writing time this week, which, all things considered, is pretty miraculous. the driving-while-drunk-story
is now The Furious Host and it's such a blast to dip into that world for even a few minutes at a shot. i feel
like i just have to log the time and water ski behind this one. plus, lisa was good enough to give me some time to myself
after a harsh day with isaiah yesterday. he's cutting four teeth at once, the poor little monster, and cried all day no matter
what i did - not even my sure fire laugh-getters (the farmer dance, the boom-daddy dance, the tickle spiders, the where's-my-baby-boy?
bit) worked. so i got to scoot away to may day cafe and join some fictional drunks in a drive down a rainy wisconin highway
for a little bit.
then i went and bought some plastic keys for the boy to teethe on.
in house-ghost news, my cat boutros suddenly has a mysterious scar on her head. the poltergeist theory is taking on some
spooky aspects that i'd rather not think about.
link
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
not feeling very bloggy lately. when life bites you, sometimes it takes all your energy just to bite back. you know?
long road trip home this weekend. highway 33, winding in the dark, night farm fields swallowing the headlights - and
the running-while-drunk story almost wrote itself in the sleet and rain.
link
Friday, March 12, 2004
are ya like me? do you like sf that draws out all its logical ramifications with unblinking resolve? that makes you laugh
despite yourself, recoil in horror and anger, and embraces the sublime and the profane simultaneously? then i give you dave hoffman-dachelet's story. (and for your next trip into orbit, remember: "pee freezes.")
go. read.
link
Monday, March 8, 2004
s evans' doesn't globetrot to the british isles to mine fantasies for her story set in minnesota, as emma bull did
in war of the oaks (though we forgive emma her cross-cultural hijinx, since, in her twin cities' battle of good v.
evil, she gives us the line "can't we let them have st paul?" which we adore). in " louisa, johnny,and the north shore huldre," evans does what few MN fantasy stories manage, by planting the roots of her story deep into our permafrost with observations,
like:
"If they were Catholic, they'd cross themselves, but they're Lutheran, so they brood instead."
"'You swear to me by the rice on the lake.'"
"All too soon, Johnny's cutting zigzags across trapping lines and frozen inlets, listening to snowbirds whistle and the
dogs pant."
well done. more, evans seems to have an echo of res (slang from indian reservations) in her diction and prose, though
that might be me happily reading it into the story. i don't think so, though - there are guys white as john kerry up in the
arrowhead who speak in the same seemingly native rhythm. "northshore huldre" is a fine slice of MN fantasy that reads with
fizz and pop. go. read.
link
Sunday, March 7, 2004
it was a mad, mad, mad cow week at work. quite a few customers called with bizarre questions, and i'm apparently the
go-to guy for researching obscure meat industry minutiae: is organic collagen produced anywhere in the country?
how stringent are the beef tracking and testing standards in germany? didn't some organic cattle in europe come down with
mad cow? (yes, but they were born on conventional farms). on and on and on.
in my websurfing travels i came across this, which is only remotely interesting if you share my slack-jawed fascination with diseases. apparently some alzheimer's
cases might actually be misdiagnosed creutzveld-jacob, the disease that mad cow allegedly triggers in humans. personally,
i'm skeptical about the link CJD/mad-cow link, but this article explains the medical variables without giving into chicken-little-ism
(that's my job).
and in other meat news, we have this tasty lil morsel.
moving on to isaiah's mad skills news, he's so close to crawling it's insane. he and i did push-ups yesterday and
he has no problems getting up on hands-and toes or hands-and-knees. in fact he loves it, and looks at you with this expression
of total triumph when he does it. then he rocks back and forth and side to side, his big-diapered butt shifting like he's
ready to sprint. he's so close to darting forward, you just want to nudge him: "go!" it's not like he doesn't want
to move, so i wish he would just DO IT! hold him in your arms and it's like holding a divining rod, his whole body yearning
toward whatever catches his attention. (mama! daddio! shiny scissors!)
very soon he'll be in hot pursuit of the cats. then things'll get exciting around here.
link
Friday, March 5, 2004
So here's the scoop.
Today the General Inspector of the USDA, Phyllis Fong, announced that the government was launching a criminal investigation
into whether documents were falsified in the lone case of mad cow disease found in the US. The BSE-infected cow was slaughtered
on the family-run Vern's Moses Lake Meats of Moses Lake, WA, on December 9, but questions have now surfaced about what condition
of health the cow was in when it was slaughtered.
The USDA said in December that the cow was a "downer" animal.
But according to Tom Ellestad, co-manager of Vern's, "The BSE positive cow was not a downer cow when we slaughtered her."
USDA anti-mad-cow practices demand that downer (sick, on their knees)
cattle be tested for BSE since they are the most likely to carry the infection. Last year, the US tested 20,000 downer cows
and promises to double that number in the wake of the mad cow outbreak.
But if the cow was a "walker," you have to wonder why was it
tested in the first place? And why wouldn't USDA officials give a straight answer when The New York Times asked if the USDA had ordered the veterinarian onsite to forge docs related to the walker/downer cow in question?
Probably because, as it turns out, the vet onsite was on official
USDA business realted to mad cow. According to the Tri-City Herald, "[Co-Manager] Ellestad said the cow was tested not because
it was apparently ill, but because Vern's had a special contract with the government to collect brain samples from up to 1,000
animals for mad cow testing -- no matter what their physical condition."
Meanwhile, United Press International reports that the government
has not only kept Dr. Thompson sequestered from the press, but that the USDA gave him a promotion and bumped up his salary
by three pay grades in order to "keep him silent." ("The USDA made Thompson do it," a co-worker of Thompson's told UPI in the afore-linked UPI article).
The notion that walker cows might carry BSE is a total no-brainer
in Japan and Europe, where nearly every cow is tested for BSE. Nonetheless, the US has resisted such widespread testing,
saying that testing downer cattle is good enough to prevent a mad cow outbreak.
So you can see the hand-writing on the wall as well as I can, right?
This poor dude, Dr. Thompson, was testing cow-brains, just like the USDA told him to do, and it was his sad fortune to be
competent enough to detect BSE in a walker. A good employee of the state, he calls the USDA and says, "Yo, I think you guys
got a problem. I just found BSE in a walker." And the USDA says, "No, Doctor, you have a problem...." Under orders,
the guy starts falsifying his records to make it look like the infected cow was a downer, and that it had been culled from
the herd due to "stringent USDA methods" (cue laughtrack).
So rather than admit that the beef industry's practices aren't preventing mad cow infected meat
from entering the food supply, Dr. Thompson will be hung out to dry as a document-forging criminal.
link
remember that cow they found last december with bovine spongiform
encephalopathy (mad cow)? yesterday, the new york times reported a story that reads like a good mystery's first chapter, with
plenty of juicy hook. last december, it was reported that this cow was a "downer," sick, but the records seem to have been
altered by the veterenarian onsite when the cow was discovered. if it wasn't a downer, some very big questions have
yet to be answered, as you'll glean from the article. here's a taste:
end result if true: the USDA will have to buckle to the wishes of
over 40 nations currently banning US beef for our sloppy mad-cow testing practices.
in other fun news, here's a look at our current coalition of the willing: pinochet-trained mercs
doing the american empire's dirty deeds in iraq. how perfect. it could only be better if cheney were somehow making some coin
off of it.
"o beautiful, for spacious skies...."
link
Thursday, March 4, 2004
ich bin ein berliner
lisa and i had to negotiate writing time for ourselves earlier this week. for both of us to get the time we needed in
the coming months, we had to sit down and carve up a calendar together, dividing it like europe after the Big One. i get monday
and tuesday morning before work; she gets thursday night and then friday or saturday night. we have to build a wall through
sunday with barbed wire fence on top. wednesday is neutral and can't raise an army.
i'm glad she was forceful about getting writing time for herself. her birth-story and unique baby articles, i'm convinced,
will bring in a caliber of cash that sf/f doesn't supply. at least not to me. so write your brains out,
sweet thang! baby needs a new diaper cover!
meanwhile, i'm working on a couple stories at once - a clock story and a running-while-drunk story. if i have only one
story going at a time, i tend to obsess on it too much and i ruin it, like overkneading bread. i'm better if i can bounce
between stories, let one rise, turn to the other, beat the gas out of that one for a while. during my best writing period
of late (about 2 years ago), i had the plague book and a batch of short stories going at any given time, and i'm still very
happy with the work that came out of that period. so hopefully this is a sign that things are moving again creatively
on my half of the calendar.
in baby news, the boy has started babbling in earnest, and i think it's spurred on by teething. it's almost like
he's trying to spit something out but he can't because it hurts or annoys him too much (not unlike writing!). today the "rah
rah rah" noise became "ja ja ja."
and that street is just a couple short blocks from "da da," i'll have you know.
oh. and i have a newly published short story here.
link
Wednesday, March 3, 2004
i live in a state with a large contingent of grey pony-tailed don quixotes. they're part of the tradition who voted for mondale in '84, mcgovern in'72, humphrey
in '68, stevenson in '52 and '56, and who, every september, lull themselves into thinking, "i think this just might be the
vikes' year."
i swear the lion's portion of that 17% voting for kucinich came from south minneapolis, and maybe my precinct. last night's
caucus looked like a "big chill 2004" casting call. anyway, i wound up voting for kucinich, too, mainly because of his vote
on the war last year, and i put my hat in the ring as an alternate delegate for the state convention on the 13th. i figure
it's time to see for myself how the system works here, now that i'm landed gentry in the land of 10,000 deluded liberals.
hobgoblin update: last night lisa was convinced she heard me sneeze, wake up the baby, and apologize profusely. we were
dozing happily, however. also, isaiah had two nasty falls yesterday that should have been disfiguring (he lunges without sense
of gravity or fear, and we're not used to it yet), but fortunately for us, he has an old european house spirit keeping
an eye on him.
link
Tuesday, March 2, 2004
a sunday school lesson
mel gibson's movie, which i haven't seen, has me thinking me about some old research i gathered for a story that i
couldn't really get off the ground. the research i did surrounds the trial of jesus and the linguistic "fast one" that pilate
might have pulled on the aramaic-speaking crowd.
the gospel according to mark is often thought to be the most reliable gospel, but even then, we're talking about a document
that was written two generations after the crucifixion and which probably underwent at least three drafts before settling
on the version we know today. just a few of the problems:
the idea that jesus was beaten
the word used in describing what pilate ordered for jesus is "scourged." criminals who were roman provincials were beaten
with metal-tipped whips before crucifixion, but jesus wasn't a provincial. in the legalese of the roman class system, he was
considered a "foreigner," so he would have just been hung up to dry and starved on the cross, not whipped. the honor of a
good whipping was reserved for citizens and provincials (second-class "citizens") because rome figured they should know better
than to defy the Empire. but a nobody from the hinterlands? apparently rome was confident that crucifixion would do the trick
for such barbarians.
and scourged had a different meaning back then than hacks like mel gibson now attach to it. in the greek of the
day, scourged meant "humiliated" or "sarcastically mocked." more likely, dressing jesus in robes, a crown of thorns,
and calling him king of the jews is what was meant by scourged - not a whipping or a stomping or even a stern spanking.
because, furthermore, the sequencing doesn't work. in mark, pilate has jesus flogged before officially condemning him, which
would not have followed roman "due process", to which pilate was bound as governor. it doesn't fit the timing of everything
else that supposedly happened on Good Friday either – if we're to believe that pilate hands jesus over to the soldiers and
jewish sanhedin as many times he does that day, jesus would have been crucified some time on saturday or sunday. or the following
week.
nailing jesus to the cross
rome tied dudes to crosses, they didn't nail them. the mention of "nails" is obviously a sop to the prophecy-hounds
of the day who needed to know that jesus was the messaiah of ancient prediction. the books of zecchariah and isaiah said that
the messiah would be tortured with nails. so there ya go.
but the big whopper is in the imaginary ritual of roman governors releasing a jewish prisoner for passover.
there's no roman record of such a tradition and it would have totally gone against the empire's ethic of showing no mercy,
especially in the far-flung protectorates where roman oppression was a virtue.
ironically, though, there is a grain of truth here, because mark uses certain linguistic details that suggest
he was the recipient of a legitimate oral tradition that sustained the first decades of the christian church. the greek-speaking
mark drops an amazing amount of obscure aramaic phrases that prove, even 60 years later, that he was getting good
info from people who knew palestine (phrases like "eloi, eloi, lama sabacthani", for example, which christ allegedly uttered
from the cross).
for a minute let's ignore the fact that mark's made-up tradition of releasing prisoners is really total bogus. let's say
that pilate did give a choice of prisoner-amnesty on that famous passover friday, because there's another ring of
truth in the aramaic name that mark cites as the prisoner whom pilate offered up to the crowd: barabbas. break the name down,
and you get "bar," a prefix that means son of, a root that we can see in the hebrew coming of age ritual, bar-mitzvah.
"abba" is an affectionate term for father, more like dad. barabbas would also have been recognized in jerusalem as
a catch-phrase for messiah. indeed, it's how jesus constantly referred to himself throughout the greek gospels. so who was
pilate talking about? rendering this whole sitch even weirder is that some of the original greek manuscripts of mark's gospel
give barabbas' first name as "jesus," or more accurately, "yeshua" (it's something you see more and more in modern translations
of the new testament actually – that barabbas first name was Jesus!). sure, yeshua was a popular name at the time - think
"joshua", since that's closer to the original anyway - but the preposterous notion that pilate was convicting two criminals
who just happened to have the same name is so absurd it's hard to believe a better lie wasn't concocted at some point in the
last 2000 years.
it's especially absurd when you translate back into aramaic what the New Testament claims that pilate asked the irate and
inexplicably anti-jesus crowd:
"Yeshua Bar'Abba or Yeshua Bar'Abba , which one do you want me to release?"
And the crowd responded, "Bar'Abba!"
clearly the best explanation is that pilate knew full well what he was doing: duping jerusalem. rather than the inane explanation
mark offers, it seems more likely that pilate had an angry messianic-crazed mob on his hands and, with his garrison two days
away, he couldn't afford to have the angry crowd transform into an "insurrection." remember, six days earlier at
the beginning of passover week, jesus deliberately entered jerusalem riding a colt, which was a famous and potent scriptural
symbol of the messiah's arrival. and since "messiah" also meant "liberator" to jews of that era, this message to the occupying
roman governor was loud and clear. furthermore, upon arriving in the capital jesus went straight to the jewish temple, which
was serving as the equivalent of a stock exchange under roman rule. there, he basically told the merchants, "you're under
new management. me." so at that trial, the attending population of jerusalem, smarting under foreign occupation and waiting
for the messiah promised them in scripture, cried for jesus' release by calling out the name that they knew him by: "barabbas!"
they weren't turning on jesus as the gospels would have it. they were trying to save him, and pilate let them believe that's
what they were doing.
then, upon averting the throng's animus and sending them home, pilate turned around and immediately ordered "yeshua" crucified
before anyone could figure out what happened.
i'm thinking mel gibson will probably address this in his sequel.
link
Monday, March 1, 2004
from last night's oscar party:
"you're kidding yourself if you think bob hope is really dead. put an oak stake in his heart and wheel him
out into the sun. it's the only way."
"charlize has the same skin color as that dead girl painted up in the opening of goldfinger."
"johnny depp makes my biological clock go brrrrrring!"
"comb your hair, peter! you look like you just walked out of the dealer room at wiscon."
re the bizarre gesture sting was making during his performance. "it's a tantric sex thing. i think it's called 'massaging
the mandolin.'"
~
one last quote, cuz i get all warm and fuzzy inside when i read things like this:
"You're not going to piss anyone off over here by dissing Clinton, because as far as I'm concerned he and Bush are both
the political equivalent of hyenas with human infants in their mouths." - lucius shepard at nightshadebooks.com
link
|
 |
|
2005.07.01 |
2005.06.01 |
2005.05.01 |
2005.04.01 |
2005.03.01 |
2005.02.01 |
2005.01.01 |
2004.12.01 |
2004.11.01 |
2004.10.01 |
2004.09.01 |
2004.08.01 |
2004.07.01 |
2004.06.01 |
2004.05.01 |
2004.04.01 |
2004.03.01 |
2004.02.01 |
2004.01.01 |
2003.12.01 |
2003.11.01 |
2003.10.01 |
2003.09.01 |
2003.08.01
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|