Fuck 9-11

Fuck 9-11
by Isonomist
09/10/2010, 9:56 AM #

I was standing on 5th Avenue with a crowd of New Yorkers from all walks of life,watching the biggest buildings in one of the biggest cities in the world burn like candles. No one knew what had happened for the first hour or so. Once we knew it wasn't an accident and the city began shutting down like a fort under seige, we began dialing family and friends and the schools where our kids were trapped by untrained administrators, getting dial tones and terrifyingly calm computer voices telling us the lines were down. No one panicked, you can see the footage. We did what we had to do. Boats poured across the Hudson from New Jersey to ferry people out of harm's way. People put their kids' schoolmates up for the night, companies closed, neighborhoods were blocked off, there were lines wrapped around the hospitals to donate blood.

The next day the stench was unbearable and unavoidable. I'm reminded of it today because down the block from my office, a restaurant is on fire as I type. The sickening smell of burning meat and building materials and ozone is all too familiar. We were out on the streets, collecting things to donate to the rescue responders. There were no trucks, no food or supplies could come into the city then. We were in lockdown. On my street, rescue workers walked from store to store looking for bottled water and food, covered to their hips in thick grey dust.

Within days, when the city was running again, but the fire was still burning and ash floating all over us, we went back to work. My route took me past the armory, the local operations for the rescue effort. On the walls of buildings surrounding it, were photos of the missing, smiling out at the camera. I felt myself in the very shoes of the family member or friend who had taken that photo in a moment of joy, and now had to xerox it onto a leaflet begging to know if this happy face still lived. I cried as I passed this part of town. We cried at my office. My kids wore paper dust masks to go outside. The dust and ash blew through our windows. The stench didn't abate for months.

It was March before the fires were completely out. And years before the hole was emptied. New Yorkers flinched at the sight of low flying planes. We stayed away from the site, or trepidatiously peered, in full knowledge that we were walking on sidewalks strewn with the ash of our neighbors' remains. We were angry at photos of tourists taking photos of the site with smiles on their faces. Fuck them. We tried to be tolerant when family members visited and wanted to see it. Like asking to see fresh scars from some near fatal collision.

The annual 9-11 ceremonies were tasteful, heartbreaking, and at some point, too boring to watch. When 9-11 was renamed Patriots' Day, when politicians started using it to scare people into voting for them, when radio talk show hosts and cheap tin pastors started using it to boost their audience ratings, when people who had never been there and had no right to wrap themselves in it began doing so, 9-11 ceased to be sacred. Now it's just another insincere glow in the dark plastic trinket holiday, co-opted by people who say we, who lived this horror, are not real Americans. The people who died on 9-11, and the people who ran in to save them, we're not patriots. The people who died together: Arab, Hindu, Christian, Jew, European, African, Latin, Asian, Indian--every strain of human bloodline, every religion or lack thereof-- and the people who ran in to save them, recover their bodies, and mourn them, all of us, are now the sworn enemies of the people who hold 9-11 up as their rallying cry. We're atheist godless, idol worshiping terorrist lefty liberal New York assholes who hate the constitution and the country and our troops and real Americans, and unborn babies and fuck you.


I'm done with that three ring circus.

Graduation Day

Graduation Day
by Archaeopteryx
05/14/2010, 2:29 PM #

Graduate list, Department of Biology

Brenda—Double major in biology and psychology. Married late last year, baby due at the end of the summer. Her husband’s accepted to law school in Ohio. She once passed out during a field trip in Ecology class.

Martin—Biology major, accepted to graduate school in forestry. His wife graduated from nursing school last year. He has five (not a typo) kids. This may explain why he doesn’t have a hair on his head. He’s here spending his GI Bill money—spent two tours in Iraq. He made every class he was in funnier and better.

Donna—Biology and Biochemistry double major. Still doesn’t know what she wants to be when she grows up. Her GPA and intelligence would get her into any med school or graduate school in the country, but she’s having fun waiting tables, and may well end up as the smartest high school teacher in whatever school is lucky enough to get her. I called her out once for falling asleep during one of my Comparative Anatomy lectures. Her response, “I’m Asian, my eyes always look like that, quit being racist.”

Matt—Quiet, goofy looking kid from the Mississippi Delta. Graduating with a 4.0 and a ticket punched to med school. Biology and Biochem double major. He spends considerable time trying to figure out how to be a good person and how to make the world a better place. Has gone on two church mission trips to Central American slums to help doctors give out free health care, although he doesn’t believe in God. Makes duck kabobs and brings them to departmental cookouts.

Rhonda—Matt's fiancée, also a 4.0, also a Biology and Biochem double major, also going to med school. She came to our university as a nursing major, and switched to pre-med at my suggestion. If I never accomplish anything else of value, I’m taking credit for that. Singlehandedly organized and ran the departmental Relay for Life team.

Drew—Biology major, got in pharmacy school despite being the star of the university baseball team. Led the team in home runs, RBI, and GPA.

Samantha—Biology major, magna cum laude. Accepted to pharmacy school. On the field biology trip last year, made breakfast each morning out of half a pop-tart, which may explain the fact that she’s about 4’6”. Writes better than any student I’ve ever had, talks like an extra from “Deliverance.”

Carmalita—Biology major, pre-med. Came on a basketball scholarship, graduated with a 3.6, despite missing half her classes during the season. Speaks with a thick Spanish accent, almost never talks in class or smiles. One of my crowning achievements as a professor was causing her to break up during Evolution class. Her parents came all the way from Puerto Rico to watch her graduate.

Will—Natural Science major. Barely passed enough classes to graduate—not too surprising since he sustained a major brain injury in a car accident his freshman year which made it very difficult for him to pay attention in class. He also was made deaf in one ear by the accident, but he never used it as an excuse, or asked for special treatment. He’s getting married in June to a girl who’s much too good-looking for him, and taking a job in Louisiana as an environmental specialist for the state. Quiet, but funny when he does finally decide to say something.

Benny—Natural Science major. He and his wife used my Field Biology trip to Costa Rica as their honeymoon, where he cracked everybody up by doing his wookie impression over a P.A. system on a public bus. He may be the skinniest human being alive. He’s going to work as a middle school science teacher.

Tina—Biology major, 3.8 GPA. She’s from Mississippi, and I never let her forget it. She once ran into me at the liquor store and never let me forget it. She’s going to Physical Therapy school in Jackson next year.

Latisha—Natural Science major. One of my favorite students ever. If she had spent as much time studying as she did trying to weasel her way out of completing assignments or writing papers, she’d be going to med school now. At graduation today, she introduced me to her mom (“Thanks for getting her through this.”), then hugged me so hard, we both nearly burst into tears. She’ll be teaching biology at a high school in the bad part of Houston next year. Her students may never understand how lucky they are.

That’s it. It’s a small school.

The Best of the Fray Thread, Version 1
by Rundeep
05/10/2010, 11:39 PM #

Iso: writes a lovely, sensitive, insightful post. Replies: JackD: compliments intelligently. ThomasPaine: thanks Iso for writing. Rundeep: Generic love. TK: awesome and includes a psych analysis. Dr. No: loves it and adds an anecdote. Topazz: some insightful comment, plus adds something witty. Urq responds to Topazz utilizing some 19th Century expression and beginning the threadjack Tempo responds to Urq and asks a rhetorical question about opera/horses. Laurie responds to Tempo pointing out that Tempo once actually was a horse and or the fat lady singing. Tempo: reported, plus you know that's not true now get help. Ellen: Backs up Tempo. Laurie to Ellen: That's what you always do, back up your friend like you did in the following email: and quotes it. Schmutzie: Responds to Tempo in Tempo speak, pointing out how rude the threadjack is. Tempo replies to Schmutzie, calling him some variation of his real name. JackDallas responds to Schmutzie, agreeing with Tempo and adding a possibly racist/homophobic/variation on his nic. Laurie responds to Jack pointing out he was once wonderful, especially when writing about his Nova Scotian retrievers and writing cattle wrangling songs while spitting watermelon seeds into the desert behind his suburban split level. Jack Dallas tells Laurie to either get help or fuck off, and introduces concepts related to the lubrication of her genitalia. Dawn Coyote points out that Jack couldn't create lubrication of a woman's genitalia if he peed K-Y. JackDallas says he wouldn't screw Dawn even if he did pee K-Y. Dawn points out that even when she was drinking she wasn't drunk enough to let the likes of Jack within 10 miles. Schmutzie backs up Dawn, berating Jack in Tempo speak, replete with CAPITALS and Faux French. Jack replies that he wouldn't screw Dawn with Schmutzie's dick. Tempo defends Jack and says he's been misunderstood. Schmutzie asks Tempo how much K-Y it took Jack to, you know, do jack. Laurie points out that lubricant changes colors depending on whether or not you live in an oxygenated environment, and how bright the lava lamp in your bedroom is. Topazz says she prefers a blacklight and will provide a link showing glow in the dark condoms and a Grateful Dead poster. And something else hilarious. At the bottom of the original post, Keifus and skitch post something interesting and supportive. To Be Continued....

zbrodnia katyńska

zbrodnia katyńska
by Schmutzie
04/11/2010, 1:09 PM #

On September 1, 1939, just a week after the Molotv-Ribbentrop Pact, the Germans invaded Poland from the north, south and west. Both Britain and France had assured Poland that any aggression by Germany would be met with attacks by both of those countries against Germany. (Polish-British Common Defence Pact, Franco-Polish Military Alliance) Instead, Britain and France did essentially nothing to defend Poland, and that inactivity has come to be known as the Western Betrayal.

The Polish army retreaded to the east.

Two weeks later, on September 17, the Soviets came in from the east. When the dust had settled, Poland had been overrun, and the Germans and Soviets controlled the entire country.

The Soviets had rounded up something like 250,000 (estimates vary) military POWs in Poland, but had released around 200,000 almost immediately, those being Ukrainians and Belarusians. And so by March 1940 the Soviets held around 40,000 Polish military or "intelligentsia" POWs. These POWs were then "interviewed", the interview being essentially an audition to save your own life. If you were seen as something of a "nationalist" or a "counterrevolutionary"...you were sent to a camp in Ukraine or Belarus.

In March 1940, Levreniy Beria, prominent member (eventually head) of the Soviet secret police, the NKVD, sent a letter to Joseph Stalin suggesting that 26,000 or so Polish prisoners of war be executed. Beria argued that such action should be taken in order to deplete a future Polish army of leadership, although in addition to the Polish military officers and soldiers being held in Western Ukrainian and Belarusian prisons, Polish "itelligentsia" such as lawyers, doctors, authors. poets, writers, teachers, priests, and journalists were included in the list of those who were to be whacked.

Stalin agreed as did the Politburo.

The executions began in April, and took place simultaneously in prisons, camps, and in one case a forest.

The Katyn Forest lies about 12 miles west of Smolensk, Russia. It was there some of the 26,000 were taken, and shot. It is said that one man, Vasili Blokhin, of the NKVD, personally shot 6,000 men over the course of 28 days. The killings went on day and night, and they only took a break for May Day.

For a long time, the Soviet Union denied any "Katyn Massacre" ever took place. They covered it up, and then tried to blame the Nazis. In 1989 Russian scholars had dug up enough shit in the old archives to confirm the truth, and in 1990 Mikhail Gorbachev finally admitted that the atrocity had indeed taken place, and acknowledged the existence of two other mass grave sights, Mednoye and Piatykhatky.

The Katyn Massacre was a rallying cry for the Solidarity Movement. I have heard stories of the Katyn Massacre for years. Stories that make you want to fucking puke. Imagine Soviet soldiers lining up 3 or 4 Poles front to back, and shooting the man in front in an attempt to save bullets. 4th guy still standing? Well, he becomes the front man for the next stack.

The horror of Katyn is part of them. You need only say that one word, and faces grow very sad. It's like "Pearl Harbor" or "9/11" to Poles.

It was 70 years ago, and Katyn was the reason Polish President Lech Kaczyński and 96 others were flying to Smolensk. They were going to visit Katyn memorials.

Chicago has the largest population of Poles outside of Warsaw. Up on the northwest side, well, trust me, there are lots and lots and lots of Polish people living up here. In early May, on Constitution Day, these maniacs run up and down Milwaukee Avenue with their horns blowing and their flags waving. 5-6 people jammed into a sedan, and having a hell of a time just driving around waving that red and white flag with the eagle on it. You'd think a wedding was going by with all the horns, only they're just sitting at a stop light laying on the freaking horn. It's kinda cool to see. These cats know how to party, and they are proud of their heritage.

Back in 2000, at St. Adalbert Cemetery, about 5 blocks south on Milwaukee Avenue, a monument was erected to the victims of the Katyn Massacre. The work was done by a Chicago sculptor named Wojciech Seweryn. Serwyn's father was one of those murdered in Katyn Forest. Wojciech was one year old in 1940.

I stopped by St. Adalbert this morning, and paid my respects along with dozens of others. The Polish flags were at half mast, and there were flowers all around the base of the monument.Hundreds and hundreds of people had been coming since yesterday, not only to remember the 70th anniversary of the massacre, but to honor Wojciech Seweryn, who was also on that plane.

Fraymates MSN Group

There may have been a dozen or so fray-generated MSN groups. A few of the sites were fairly active, like Captain Greybeard and the Denjim, Lapcat's Lair, and Prudieville. But none were so well known as Fraymates and Kausville. There were almost two hundred pages of image files at Fraymates, photos of fraysters and their families, fraymeets, and vacations. And at Kausville, there were thousands of threads discussing politics, money, sex, food, (and the fray).

The site, Fraymates, was initiated by a Kausfiles regular, Berzerker. In 2002, he and SouthernGal (a brand-newcomer at the time) had gotten into a political argument that turned personal for a post or two. Zerkie and SoGal were immediately sorry for what they'd said to each other.

And for Zerkie, an idea was born. He said that he'd forgotten that he was arguing with a flesh-and-blood human being. So he started a site to help remind all of us that fraysters (or fraymates) are not just strings in the ether.

Looking through some files today, I found this screenshot of Zerkie's admonishment to keep Fraymates friendly. In the 6+ years the group stood, only 8 bans were ever necessary. And only 4 of those banned were of fraysters.

EMPTY SUIT by Jock Callous

EMPTY SUIT by Jock Callous
by Inkberrow
04/04/2010, 5:23 PM #

Shimmering spires of glass
and steel,
in muted testimony, rest.
In silent shrouds
and shattered dreams,
to tell a husband's worst,
and best.
Enjoined in hope
and bitter will.

Beneath the altar,
cold and dark,
strong hearts and weak
together beat,
where once I stood
in wondered awe,
and chased your vows
into the sky
so I could cheat.

Despair you not
my helpmeet's soul,
The hand of God
restraineth thee;
And comfort brings,
and solace gives,
to broken lives,
and faithful wives,
and those still free
to rut and troll.

Here in this place,
now lost to time,
where heroes die,
and mothers cry,
and strumpets hoot,
where now I stand
in jaded awe
and erase my vows
in an empty suit.


Copyright 2010, Heartstorm Press

Jeremy, Please Stop Emailing Me.

Jeremy, Please Stop Emailing Me.
by topazz
04/03/2010, 10:41 PM #

You don't need to keep asking my opinion on everything, if you won't take it on the most important thing. You know what I'm talking about. And to answer your question, 4times a week is normal, I guess. Slightly leaning towards overdoing it though.

---

Don't listen to her, Jer.
by Archaeopteryx
04/04/2010, 6:55 AM

When I was your age, it was easily four times a day. I slowed down when I needed glasses.