Peace and Remembrance

Here's something to make you wake up and smell the grumpee. Do I need to reiterate my Emerson quote from Sunday? Somebody isn't paying attention.

See D. Haffner's post on the emcee heckling she and other peace supporters received on Memorial Day.

Crib notes on peace for those with limited attention spans...
When soldiers don't die at war they can be with their families and hopefully die of natural causes at a much later date. This will make for less parades, yes. But, oddly... it seems to make the soldiers and their families happier.

It is an amazing thing, but you really can respect and honor the sacrifice of veterans while praying for peace.

History class in the UK - rated I for inane

The Good Atheist strikes again, thus earning himself a spot on my links and a hyperlink for you. This time he is taking on history curricula in the UK and good for him.


From the Daily Mail...

Schools are dropping the Holocaust from history lessons to avoid
offending Muslim pupils, a Governmentbacked study has revealed. It found some
teachers are reluctant to cover the atrocity for fear of upsetting students
whose beliefs include Holocaust denial. There is also resistance to
tackling the 11th century Crusades - where Christians fought Muslim armies for
control of Jerusalem - because lessons often contradict what is taught in local
mosques.
The findings have prompted claims that some schools are using
history 'as a vehicle for promoting political correctness'.
The report concluded: "In particular settings, teachers of history
are unwilling to challenge highly contentious or charged versions of history in
which pupils are steeped at home, in their community or in a place of worship."
But Chris McGovern, history education adviser to the former Tory
government, said: "History is not a vehicle for promoting political correctness.
Children must have access to knowledge of these controversial subjects, whether
palatable or unpalatable."

English and history classes in my day were sometimes rough. Emotions ran high. Teachers and students disagreed. Students and students disagreed. And I remember a couple of days when I seemed to disagree with everyone. We were different races, classes, genders and religions, but we all survived those discussions. I also recall getting into a good university and not being shell-shocked by in-depth class discussions because I'd already experienced them in high school.

As I stand on the precipice before my 20th (public) high school reunion, I (like every other reunion attendee in this world) am not thrilled by all of my memories or the thought of re-living them. But I am grateful for the times my mind was stretched. I am glad I shared years with people who tested me, annoyed me, openly called bull on me, and were honest in their mostly civil disagreements.

As adults we find ways to limit the human thorns in our sides. As high school students, we don't have that power and, yet, for many it is the most educationally significant time of their lives. I believe there's a connection. You can't take the edge and the ire out of adolescence by hinkying with history. Or biology. Or sex ed. The holocaust, species diversity, and sexuality are all hard to talk about in depth. Whether you agree with your conversation partners or not. Therein lies the education. We learn, grow, and sometimes change.

Speaking of which, my son and played on my public elementary school playground the other night.

"Is this where you went to school, mama?"

"Yes, indeed! The place where I learned to read. The place where I learned to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. The place where I learned how to boogie. I still have some of the moves. Wanna' see them?"

"Sure."

Come on now. You didn't think I got these moves from church did you?

Kitchen 64 comes alive

For those of you who are local readers, I hit one of Richmond's newest the other night: Kitchen 64. It was packed but thanks to the experienced staff, all went smoothly.

The interior is stunning, particularly if you knew it in its previous life. As Zippy's it was a dark hole. (Now, don't get me wrong - I went into that dark hole on several occasions for the beer selection and for Zippy's mama's unbelievable homemade rolls. Let us all pause for a moment of silence to remember those little beauties.) But now it is bright and warm - lots of wood and a cool-as-a-talking-monkey bar.

The patio was packed and I expect it to stay that way until November. We sat inside at a nice booth that could easily seat 6. The menu is huge and fans of some of the owners' other Richmond legends will see some familiar favorites. The Greek nachos were obscenely loaded. The crabcake bruschetta was unremarkable, but for the rockin' crabcake. Go for the sandwich instead. The menu is sensible and familiar which will do well in Northside. Nice beer selection. Great prices. And a staff that runs like a machine.

Long live Kitchen 64. Congrats to its owners on another job well done.

Rooster hermaphrodite, cross dresser, or another reason humans should be less cocky

This is too juicy to resist. Take a visit to the good atheist and learn about the miraculous chicken that transformed its gender. My comment at the site pretty much sums up my views on the deal, but I thought I'd share my personal miraculous gender transformation story. (Sounds like the beginning of a bar tale, doesn't it?)

I fell in love with a kitten I named Ace because it had a black marking that looked like a spade from a card deck. Ace was lovey, cute, friendly, and the most despised creature in my home by the other cats. I gave "her" to a co-worker because my male cats kept going berserk whenever she was near.

The co-worker renamed "her" Belle, which I thought was a stupid name for this rugged little kitty, but whatever. If it made her happy...

Belle turned out to be the cat's drag name because within six months "her" very large testicles appeared and she sprayed all over the co-worker's house.

The vet said, "Oops, sorry. It's hard to tell sometimes."

The co-worker said, "%&*() ^#%^@ *(@7**!$^, Belle, ^#&!*"

My cats said, "Told you she was a faker. That guy was messing with our turf."

Moral of the story - sex traits come in all kinds of mysterious varieties. And isn't that what we like about nature?

Sisyphus goes big time

Lawdy, lawdy, my old blogging buddy Sisyphus has been called up to the big leagues. He was recently quoted in Slate. I got to him through here - http://www.slate.com/id/2167155/?nav=fix Hope it works for you.

Sisyphus, we'll miss you in the little Luddite leagues.