Merry Christmas!

To all of you who celebrate it, here's from Natalie and me and our freshly painted feet.


Merry Christmas!

(Left: Natalie; Right: me)

Christmas Eve

As is  tradition, my sister Natalie and I stay up every 12/24 to be awake when Christmas and Santa arrive. This year, it's no different. We're sitting, listening to Regina Spektor, and painting our toenails. Or, rather, Natalie's painting them. After that, we'll read Peef and The Polar Express (which we watched earlier this evening) and drink hot chocolate. The best part of Christmas lies in these moments.

Every year, it's the feeling of timelessness and peace which get to me the most. I feel connected with my sisters more than any other time of the year. Maybe that's in part because I'm now at college, but it's wonderful and rare to sit down with my little sister and hang out into the wee small hours of the morning. 

Christmas, for me, is a time for family. Of course, that means not only my blood relatives, but my closest friends and dearest communities. That includes my new family in the Evergreen Queer Alliance, the Meadowdale Gay Straight Alliance, Gender Neutral Housing, my friends at school, and my posse back at home in Edmonds.  Although I can't spend the holidays with those folk, I love them dearly. 

And I'm glad for this time I get to spend with my family. I hope that all of you out there have a time or an occasion when you can go home, settle down, and remember who is important to you. For some people, it's not even blood relatives. For some, it's their friends scattered throughout the world. But whoever it is that you love and depend on, who you miss and who you need in your life, I hope you find time for them. 

Remember who's important. Remember those who have helped you or needed your help. Remember to spend time with those who keep you sane - who help you stay human in this disconnected modern world.

And don't forget to celebrate the birth of Christ tonight, my friends. It may be your only chance for the next twelve months.

Peace and love.

Truck Stop Rainbows: An Excerpt

Truck Stop Rainbows

Iva Pekarkova

Prague, Czechoslovakia, 1987. (Read: the Soviet  Union)

Individualism... We all felt exceptional to some extent.

Perhaps not unusually intelligent or gifted, perhaps not infused with any special ability or strength that made us somehow better than anyone else. We were simply different - and from many experiences we knew very well how few people understood us.

There was an enormous number of exceptional people. Hundreds of independent individualists, people understood by no one, standing in lines in front stores and stepping on each other's feet in trams. Among the crowds of lonely seekers for understanding we wandered through Prague without a word to anyone. If we did, after all, enter into conversation with someone, the conversation was brief and passing, or it lingered so long at the level of superficiality that each party concluded that the other was one of those people who understood nothing. There were no magical moments of agreement or glittering instants of friendship. The Praguers wandered through their city day after day, shielded by little bubbles of opinions they share with no one. Hitchhikers wandered the republic - and only by terrible accident might you discover that this other person sitting beside you shared your destination. Lonely microscopic personalities wandering across an overpopulated globe.

We lived separated by our silence, tedium, and anxieties.

And if - even just once in your life - you actually met someone, someone with whom you never ran out of things to talk about, that was an absolute personal miracle, pure and simple.

Snow

I am currently in the process of surviving my first urban snowstorm, and today, I went for a walk to survey the damage. Really, there was none. They sky was grey, the ground was white, and the people were all bright and colorful jackets, scarves, and hats. And everything seemed endlessly more peaceful than on a usual Sunday before Christmas in Edmonds. People were walking to their destinations, sledding on closed roads, spending time with family over warm beverages. The sounds of cars were nearly nonexistent.

When I made it to the Edmonds Bookshop, I had already been out a half hour and it was time to warm-up. I went in with the sole intention of browsing till I could feel my hands again and then splitting for the beach. I should have known, however, that I can't go into a bookstore without buying something, so I ended up putting a copy of Michael Chabon's Maps and Legends on hold. It's his only non-fiction, a book about writing, and it's cover was stunning. Three layers of colorful landscaping covered a charcoal binding, the words "Michael Chabon" and "Maps and Legends" inscribed artfully (ie by hand) on the front. It displayed the Vikings, knights, cavemen, jungle men, and monkey kings all harmoniously moving about the image. There was no way I couldn't buy it.

Once that was over, I headed to Brackett's Landing. The snow snuggled up to the edge of the waves (though there were none), and the flakes disappeared into the perfectly still Sound. Out on the peer, the story was much the same. It was much colder, but still just as calm on the water. The snow in the air created a much shorter sight range, and I felt like I was in La Push again, staring out into the endless Pacific.

There was almost no sound. The waves the ducks congregating in the warmer waters created as they dove across the sea, playing with each other or collecting food. The sea lion huffing his breath as he dove in and out of the depths. The hum of the ferry as it docked and undocked, traveling to Kingston and back. The bells on the one sailboat nearby in the port, calling to the sea. The wind was silent, yet strong.

It was the first place of true peace I have ever found. It was the calm after the storm. Every animal around me joined in my relief as we hovered over the slow movements of the water. We sat together in this moment, breathing the cold air, warming our feet near the sea, and thinking of nothing but how wonderful life is sometimes. It wasn't until after I left that I realized I had not even thought of a single thing that had been bothering me before. Every worry disappeared before I even realized it. Expectations melted with snow in the lapping currents. I was free to tend to my true nature, outside the modern world. I was happy.

That's what snow does to a person, if you let it. I t shuts down the world without even hope of reviving it, and if you embrace the momentary peace, you might find yourself sledding with thirty other working people down one of the busiest streets in town because it's too steep to drive on. Or maybe you'll find yourself packed into a cafe downtown in your snow boots, listening to seasonal music, when you'd normally be meeting with a client or out shopping for gifts. Or maybe you have snow tires and a four-wheel-drive and you're already at the mall. But in any case, the snow storm is the one thing we Pacific Northwesterners have to count on when we just need a guilt-free break from life. Our worlds suddenly become that much smaller, isolated by the clouds in the sky, by the joy of letting go of everything in our daily schedule.

So I encourage everyone living through this incredible snow to embrace it. Say, Fuck my 9 o'clock meeting; I am stuck here with my family on the Sunday before Christmas - and I fucking love it.

Back for More

So, it's been a couple months since I've posted. I have a good reason, though, since I had no computer for a few weeks, and then the work in my program became far more strenuous than I ever imagined. But I'm back, and I will continue to blog.

On the subject of work, if anyone still thinks Evergreen sounds like an easy school, they are dead wrong. I've known more people who've dropped out of school here because it was too difficult than I would have guessed before I started my program. But now I get it.

So many students come to Evergreen expecting a stoner school. Easy work, easy access to drugs, no grades. But the review and evaluation process is stressful and difficult, the work is engaging and seemingly abundant, and the professors hold their students to high levels. That being said, weed, among other substances, is very easily accessible, and parties are about as frequent as seminars. But the level of professionalism, intellectualism, and dedication amongst the long-term students is impressive. Even though we're all a bit lazy (hey, we're undergraduates...), we all love to be in school.

And that's why I love Evergreen. 

Fifteen Days

So, you may have heard that the Supreme Court rejected Troy Davis's appeal for retrial, and his court date had been set for this following Monday.

Luckily, after the EU and other international leaders, along with 140,000 Americans, spoke against the sentence, the board of appeals has decided to grant him another stay of fifteen days. In that time, he has ten days in which the court will decide to retry him. His lawyers have the full two weeks to refile their appeals if that doesn't work out.

Please continue to fight for Troy Davis's freedom and the values of our democracy. Hopefully then, this guy'll get a retrial.

Nostalgia

For the first time since I arrived, I really truly miss living at home. Now, don't get me wrong - I love being responsible for myself and living with new people and in a new place, but I realized this evening that I need to go home next weekend.

Today, when I stepped into my apartment, it wreaked of hamburger. I tried to explain to my roommates why I'd prefer it if we didn't cook meat in the house - or at least warned me before hand so I could find a place to stay - but I don't think they quite appreciated my aversion to the smell of meat. It's not ethical snottiness, but a genuine disgust. I truthfully walked into my house and got completely nauseous, to the point that I hadn't been able to stomach food for a couple hours.

And that's why I miss home. I don't have to explain to my sisters or my parents why it's gross - they get it! We don't cook meat in doors for that reason. And yet, when I explained this, I got the feeling that not one of them gave a shit about what I said. And I know it's true. When Clint asked them not to smoke weed in the main room because it makes him nauseous, they were completely apologetic. When I asked them to limit the amount of meat or at least warn me ahead of time, they acted like I had asked them to cut down on their shower time because it was stealing all of my hot water.


I'm not sure what to do at this point, and I'd appreciate some advice. Though I'll probably get plenty of that this weekend when I'm finally home again.

Correction

So perhaps I was a little angry last night. I don't exactly mean all of the hatred behind a lot of what I said. At first, I did. I honestly felt strong violent impulses towards McCain, but then I realized - with a bit of reflection - that it was mostly just pent up frustration.

Sometimes being an atheist sucks. Sure, one can say it's not as bad as being gay or a racial minority because I get to choose my nonbelief, and on some level, I agree. I just don't agree for the same reasons. I think being black or Hispanic or Filipino is more difficult because it's something you can see. People look at Barack Obama, make a judgment, and find themselves genuinely surprised at how "articulate" he is. Some may look at how I treat others and feel no surprise because it's assumed I'm religious. If they knew I was an atheist beforehand, sure, I think they'd feel a level of surprise at how I actually do have ethics and principles which I adhere to. But that's not the point I'm trying to make.

What I mean to say is that I feel unrepresented in American politics, even by my own candidate, and I took it all out on McCain and his "pro-abortion" bashing. The problem here is that I do respect pro-life as long as it's consistent. In other words, a pro-lifer should be against the death penalty, war, and abortion in order to stick to his or her principles. John McCain does not appear to feel that way. Of course, it's all just party pandering. He's never said anything like that that I know of about pro-choice Americans that I've read or heard.

And this is where I come to my point... I forgive McCain his hypocrisy. Heck, we all practice it. I'm still mad that he feels he can sacrifice American democratic principles in order to win an election (aka freedom of belief and equal civil rights), but I get him. He was angry too. For different reasons, sure, but he's trying to win an election. That can hardly be easy or stress-free. He just played his cards wrong and came off as an angry, conservative jerk.


So I forgive him. I'm disappointed, but I've gotten over my anger. He said things I hate, but he said it in the spirit of party politics - and fuck you, party politics. You have no place in my democracy.

Fuck you, John McCain

I just finished washing the debate, and all I can think about is how I want to kick John McCain's judgmental ass. I'm sorry if that sounds incredibly immature in dealing with other political beliefs - especially when it comes to abortion - but when a candidate for the president of the United States outright attacks a group of Americans - no matter how big or powerful - on the basis that their morals are seriously lacking because they differ from his, yeah, I'm gonna be pissed. In fact, I'm not just pissed- I am angrier than I have been in weeks.

Who is he to impose his religious beliefs as a secular official on an entire nation? Who is he to say that because my lack of Christian upbringing and therefore lack of "mainstream" belief I have any less an important voice in this democracy? And, what, because I believe that people have a right to choose their religious beliefs, I'm suddenly pro-murder? What a fucking dickhead.

And I don't give a shit if it's just pandering. John McCain is shitting on my beliefs and my ethics because our opinions differ. Fuck him and his judgmental attitude. I will never give that man a chance again. He is supposed to be running for the president of the United States. The country that, according to its early documents, stands for freedom of (and from) religious belief, equal value in front of the government and society, and celebration of healthy diversity within politics.

And as for federalist issues... Should we repeal equal suffrage, nondiscrimination acts, and slavery bans because the federal government bans them and not just the states? Every social movement, every added right in America begins at the state level and evolves to the federal level. We can't wait around for all fifty states to give all Americans freedom from the majority religions because it may never even happen. Only about half of the states approved women's suffrage before the the amendment passed.

As an atheist and a minority American, I am insulted by the suggestion that his beliefs trump mine because more people agree with him. What a fucking asshole.

I can't wait to vote Obama.

Connecticut

I can hardly believe I forgot to post this on the big day (aka Friday), but on Friday, Connecticut legalized gay marriage. And according to Connecticut's constitution, the decision can't be appealed either.

So, ladies and gentlemen, our love is here to stay.

Like all social movements in America, it's only a matter of time before same-sex marriage is legalized on the federal level. Similarly, equal marriage is on its way in Washington, as long as all voting citizens of the state vote Mary Fairhurst for supreme court justice. Though she may be running uncontested; I can't remember.

In any case, celebrate! And keep fighting.

Contracting

Happy Indigenous Peoples' Day, folks!

I know it's been a while since I've written, but I've been more busy than usual, so I'm going to keep this to one story even though I have several. Later this week, I'll have some wonderful pictures of campus for y'all.


Anyway, this entry is all about how cool Evergreen is. And you won't even believe it. About a week ago, we had a guest visit our Russian language class who had taken a year of Russian before spending three months in Siberia. Our professor invited him to talk with us about her home country, and to explain to us exactly what contracting is. It is, in fact, the coolest thing I've learned about Evergreen's academics so far.

In essence, contracting is a really great way to get credit and money for attempting your own journey or project in life. It's really that open. All you have to do is write up a contract, get it approved by professors you've had, and sign-up for financial aid, and you could, say, spend a few months bumming around Siberia for essentially free. Of course, this dude wasn't just bumming around. He lived an almost entirely nomadic life - hunting and gathering all his food, living in temporary housing in the mountains, traveling by foot and boat across country... He really experienced Siberian life.

And he got credit for it. And it was free.

Nearly.

This is how cool Evergreen is. A student can write up a proposal for anything she wants to do, and as long as it convinces the school that she's actually going to learn something, she has the potential to get extra money for it. And this really includes anything.

I also met a great dude this week from Seattle who spent a year hopping trains and hitchhiking across country. In fact, I've met several people who have traveled in similar fashion. I've decided I'm going to take full advantage of the possibilities here at Evergreen. I'm going to network like crazy, travel all over the place with these folks, and meet as many people as possible.


This is going to be fantastic. I can't even wait for it all to begin.


On a similar note, I'm slightly homesick. I'm sick almost constantly from a poor diet (and the Greenery food is just terrible), and I miss my family. I don't miss Edmonds, though. It's not nearly as cool as this part of Olympia (we live next to a temporary rainforest, and it's stunning.)


Salaam.

Earth

It amazes me how many people are fascinated by space travel when they live on an absolutely stunning planet themselves and don't even realize it. That's not to say I'm not fascinated by space travel, because I certainly am, but I want to explore what this globe sports before I checked out others.

I bring this up because I found the most beautiful collection of photographs from around the world I have seen to date. They are truly breathtaking. Take a look:

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/10/earth_from_above_comes_to_nyc.html

Home

Reality finally struck me today. It was quite a shock. I realized, as I was walking out of my final class for the week, that I am in college.

Before that very moment, I had felt entirely out of place. But then, as I strolled through the muggy Pacific Northwest air, listening to the drizzle on the trees, I understood that I was home. The smell of wet concrete was all I needed to feel grounded again. It was the trigger that put me back in the present. That, and I had my first real day of classes today.

Oh, by the way, I just finished my first week of school! How exciting is that?! I have already spent more time reading about Russia per minute in the last few days than I have sleeping! That being said, I have perhaps been staying up too late to get a decent night's sleep. But in any case, I feel like I am a real student again. And I'm more excited than I have been in a long time.

This is my life. It's no longer prep work for something greater. Well... I guess it is kind of prep work for something greater, but in reality, I no longer feel like I'm waiting for the great peak of my existence. I suppose I always understood that there isn't really a great peak to one's existence, but years of public schooling drill the fantasy into our minds that we have a purpose, a goal, to fulfill. That is and isn't true; we do all have our own goals, but there isn't one single event or product that defines each of us. We are every moment that we experience, and every experience is as important to our existence as the next one. Some might not change our lives as others do - like the epiphany I had this morning - but they certainly hold as much importance in that we were alive then.

I am in existence, and if you're reading this, then you are too. We are the lucky ones. We have opportunity. We have love. We have literature and music and history. We can enjoy the view of Mt. Rainier. We can eat prepared foods. We can live wherever the fuck we want (kind of). We can make our own decisions. We have choices! How truly incredible is that?! We get to choose what we do. Sure, some instinct is involved, but we have the intelligence to choose to be different or the same, to dance or not, fries or onion rings, and even to be or not to be. Our freedom is such that we can choose not to exist. And that's not to say we don't have to deal with the consequences, but that's just part of the whole process of living.

I am ready for these choices. I am ready to study, to work hard, to learn, to think, to grow, to mature, to become something, to be who I am, to be who I want to be. So, I'm going to go read about Russia and then study my cursive.

I'm going to leave you all with a short, cliche phrase I've only now fully understood: Carpe diem, ladies and gentlemen.


"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt."

Oh, Comcast...

The first thing I noticed when I finally got settled in here at TESC was that I can't live without high speed internet. I know that sounds pathetic, but in this age - when we're all addicted to technology (and as a child who grew up on computers) - I think it's perfectly fair. And frustrating. Especially since Evergreen is too remotely located for any decent network that doesn't cost the school thousands of dollars a year. So, we use something called ResNet. They're local, and they're slow, but they're also very helpful. More helpful than Comcast, anyway.

But in spite of that, I decided to sign up for their high speed internet. Because we already get all of our cable TV from ComcastNW on campus, it should have been easy to get internet as well. But Comcast likes to make things difficult - or at least they appreciate a good deal of irony.

So, I start the process at comcast.com, and everything's going fine. I figure out all the information I need, and fill out all the forms, but then I'm sent to a live chat with a woman or bot named Rhonnarey. I start confirming information, she all the while neglecting the punctuation keys, and then the ResNet server, like it does several times a day, decides to crap out. I waited a good ten minutes before calling them in.

Another problem with Evergreen's location is there is no reception in the dorms. In order to call Comcast, then, I have to step outside in my pajamas and hope that they don't need me to look at my computer. When I finally spoke to a customer service specialist, however, it turns out I could just stand outside in the fifty degree weather, awkwardly smiling at all the other students who walked by. But it's okay because it shouldn't take too long, right?

Wrong.

The minute I tell the guy what I want, he says, "Well, usually, you have to sign up for those things online..."

I just want to say here that doesn't make any fucking sense to sign up for internet over the internet. Sorry, but it's just entirely illogical. I mean, sure, it's nice to have the option of using the internet to sign up, but it only makes sense to allow users to sign up over the telephone. Silly, silly Comcast.

In any case, after a few minutes of negotiations, however, we (myself and my specialist) were able to work it out. So, in three to five days, I'll have my modem and fifteen days after that, I'll have quite a hefty bill because even self-installation has a fee that goes along with it.

I just wish I could tell Comcast that though irony is at times very amusing, poignant, and evocative, it is not at all funny when you're trying to set up an internet connection. It's just too bad Verizon doesn't actually serve mountainous terrains in the middle of - essentially - nowhere.

Karma

Being in a dorm with two men has made me believe in karma. For years, I was the laziest, dirtiest resident in my house (though I still stand by the fact that Natalie's room was almost always more disgusting than mine). But since coming to college, I've been the cleanest out of all of us.

Now, I should say here that it's not through lack of trying that my roommates come across as lazy. Clint tries very hard to keep the place clean - but it's the little things that count. The cabinets left unclosed, the bathroom door open at all hours, the cereal bag on the dining room table every morning. I now sympathize greatly with my mom and step mom. My god, I feel like I spend every second closing things and putting things away and washing dishes! Lights are always left on. It's unbelievable.

That being said, I still adore them. Russel has the most excellent musical tastes. He's a drummer and a DJ. His specialty is essentially everything. He listens to jazz, dance, electronic, reggae, rock, pop, hip hop, and much more. He's a big Vivaldi fan, which is my only beef. Vivaldi's fine, but I don't really find much enjoyment out of listening to him. Clint too has great taste, and he and I have been close friends for several years.

I just wish that when I asked Clint if he was going to just leave the bread out on the counter like that, that he hadn't responded with, "I'll move it since it's in your way." Why on earth don't you move it because bread doesn't like to sit out and get stale on a counter? Why in Christ's name don't you move it because you're not using it anymore?! What's wrong with that?

Troy Davis granted stay!

Exciting news: Troy Davis has been granted a one week stay in which time the US Supreme court and the Georgia courts will decide whether or not to retry him.

Hopefully, the Supreme Court will get involved.

Less than six hours

There is now less than a quarter of a day until Troy Davis is scheduled to be executed.

Please take action with Amnesty International: http://tinyurl.com/5p94u8

I will keep you updated.

Welcome, Greeners!

Or so read the signs littering the campus this weekend of my arrival at the Evergreen State College. I have to say the most memorable moments over the last twenty-five or so hours have taken place in Evergreen's stunning woods. It is absolutely striking, how beautiful it is out here. But I didn't really take note of that until a few hours after we'd arrived.

When I first got to my dorm, four name tags hung on our door signaled by first name to my roommates and myself that this was our floor. Each name was written on a wanted sign, and below each name was the crime that particular student had committed. Mine was for insulting a mustache. The reward? 30,000 dollars.

I admit that after I got all my possessions into my room, I was completely apprehensive, stressed, and lonely - despite the name tags and despite the fact that my best friend is living with me. I missed my family, my friends, my room, and my cat, but it turned out to be wonderful. Though I have only just gotten close to finishing unpacking (I only have to put up my decorations), I already started to feel like it was my room last night when I went to bed. It was probably because I had a nice, comfortable bed to roll into after the raging party in the woods I attended for ten minutes and the left from, bored.

In any case, Clint and I stayed up until one last night and got up at eight this morning. I experimented with my first home-cooked meal. Well, kind of. It was microwaveable oatmeal, and since I didn't have a microwave, I just poured boiling water into it which worked out fine. Then I went back to bed.

When I finally got up for the day, Clint and I hurried out to the student accounts building to get our IDs. They were closed, so we went to the bookstore to get my books, the registration room to get our IDs again (still closed), and the Child Care Center to check up on our job applications. They, too, were closed. So finally, we just went into town.

If you haven't yet been to Olympia, I suggest that the first place you should try is the Bread Peddler. It's this wonderful little bakery on Capitol Way and Third (or Fifth). It had a wonderful atmosphere - i.e. not a college cafe - and even more wonderful food. They serve hot and cold sandwiches, desserts, pastries, soups, breads, coffee, and wine (11AM until close). The cheeses are all excellent, the desserts and pastries are fresh, and almost everything is organic, locally grown, and of impressively high quality. You can eat in or to-go. There's also a pre-made station where you can pick up a sandwich or doughnut, along with a local juice, and head out the door. There's indoor and outdoor seating, and it's on a very lovely stretch of road.

Anyway, before we made it to the bakery, Clint and I stopped by a great comic book store just a few blocks away where I bought the first two issues Neil Gaiman's Sandman. It's a wonderful story - as expected from Gaiman - but the art is stunning. The colorist is absolutely brilliant. I suggest all of you artsy/comic book people reading this check out his Sandman series.

At 4:30, we had a meeting with our RA. It was all of gender neutral housing, so there were a good twenty to thirty people in the room. Our first ice breaker activity was a basic name game. We were each given a Hershey's kiss and a condom. Based on the color of each, we had to describe ourselves. If one had a golden kiss, she had to name her favourite Spice Girl. Silver, and she had to name her favourite Rocky Horror character. Red, and she had to name her favourite city. The color of the condom was more loose: one would have to describe herself with an adjective that rhymed with or alliterated the color, or simply name a memory that came to mind when looking at it. Fortunately, most people opted for the first option (though some students did end up divulging the exact age at which they lost their virginities).

My RA's name is Larry. He's a totally fun human being. Clint and I talked to him for a while, asked him questions, and joined him for dinner with the other freshmen from our housing. My roomates are also very cool. Chantal is a sophomore from Maine who drove all the way here in her truck, and Russel is a twenty-one-year-old freshman from somewhere with Buddhas and pictures of Hindu tapestries all over his walls. My guess is he doesn't really have a coherent religion. Russel, as it turns out, has excellent taste in music and is a really easygoing, eager individual. Chantal is a sweet gal who is actually aware of her roommates when considering bringing her friends over. I anticipate an easy year with the two of them.

----

Well, as I write this, it's starting to get late and I still have not finished getting everything organized. My most prized possessions - my books - are staring at me longingly from their various homes, so I think it's time I sit down and read some more Sandman and maybe get some posters on my walls. I need a little relaxation after today's excitement and tragedies (my motherboard died on my linux box and I am positively heartbroken), but I will continue to keep you all updated on orientation week as exciting new things happen.



Au revoir, mes amis.

Troy Davis sentenced again

On September 12th, the Georgian Pardon and Parole board rejected clemency for a most likely innocent man, Troy Davis, in the murder of an off-duty police officer. He was first sentenced in 1991. He has been fighting for his freedom since then.

The problem with this case is Davis is both a black American and there is absolutely no physical evidence against him. The court found him guilty on only eye witness reports. Since then, seven of the witnesses have changed their stories. Some have said police coerced them, others have signed affidavits saying that one of the two remaining witnesses was the real murderer - but because of our broken justice system, none of this evidence has made it to the appeals.

Troy Davis was rejected again on the twelfth and is scheduled to be executed on the twenty-third.

The ACLU is currently leading a campaign to free Troy Davis, as there is no real evidence against him. Unfortunately, the restrictive appeals process and inherent Georgian racism has led to a frightening conclusion; and despite the ACLU's best efforts, Davis will be punished for a crime he did not commit.

Though this is my personal blog, I feel obligated to share this with all of you. It is important that we realize a black man is sentenced to death on only one credible witness while a white man has nine credible witnesses against him. I ask you to share this with those you know and to take a moment to write the board to commute Davis's sentence.

For more information, visit the ACLU page dedicated to Troy: https://secure.aclu.org/site/Advocacy?pagename=homepage&page=SplashPage&id=906

read this article by Time writer Brendan Lowe: http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1643384,00.html?cnn=yes

and visit Troy Davis's advocacy website: http://www.troyanthonydavis.org/


Thank you for your time. The next blog will be cheerier.

In the Beginning...

Hey, y'all.

So, I'm starting my adventures this weekend at the Evergreen State College, as you all know, and I've decided to keep this blog updated for both my personal sanity and (hopefully) your enlightenment and entertainment. Who knows where this will lead me... Perhaps I'll end up blogging about the many factors that went into my decision to drop out of school, move to Oregon, and grow pot for a living.

As comforting as that is to hear for my parents, one never knows where her future will take her. It's like the great EL Doctorow once said: Writing a novel is like driving at night. You can only see a little ways in front of you, but you can make any destination that way. I'm assuming he's taken into account mileage, speed limits, and road access, but the point is that anything and everything is possible - and even sometimes likely. I could end up working for the UN (god forbid), writing novels about Serious Human Dilemmas, or teaching undergraduate students how to properly read Shakespeare. I might even fulfill my father's dreams for me by becoming a computer scientist, or his nightmares by converting to fundamentalist Islam/Christianity. It really doesn't matter which; it would still horrify and depress him.

In any case, I will go where I go, and I will do what I do, and I will blog about all of it right here.


I'm Abby Anderson.

Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.