Category: culture

Skibidi Megalon

Posted on by Liz

I went off to see Megalopolis excitedly knowing that a lot of people think it sucked, because even if it sucked I figured it would have some interesting thing to say about “the Future” and would also be something of a spectacle, part “neo Rome” and part art deco. But mostly, I am one of those people who often think about the Roman Empire! Danny, Mikayla and I escaped from the heat of this week at the Alamo Drafthouse, buckled up and ready for THE FUTURE.

It was ridiculous from the beginning. The signifying lesbians in the club (Girls licking each other performatively = Decadence!) The strange attempts to convey SCIENCE, the power hungry vamp, things that were like, vaguely Roman (?) And then the power to STOP TIME.

I complained to Danny that they did not lean in at all to the time stop power or any of the magic. “It’s because it’s meant to be ART – it’s like the power of ART!” OK fine…. it would be nice if the ART contained more artiness.

Aubrey Plaza leaned in hard to her part of the money and power hungry vamp “Wow Platinum” and I thought Adam Driver also did as good as could be done with his weird caricature of a Tortured Genius. They just played it as hard and cartoony as they could.

Things I liked: the trippy montages were embarrassing and pretty good at the same time. The dumb Megalon substance, never explained, that makes a beautiful 1920s World’s Fair park thing in the razed (and satellite-bombed) former slums. TBH I also liked the decadent performative-for-the-male-gaze lesbian gaggle. (I think it was Mikayla who pointed out that the first time they appeared it was like, oh they’re symbolizing decadent empire – but the 2nd and 3rd and 4th times you start thinking maybe Francis Ford Coppola just likes watching cute girls lick each other.)
The science startup montage in the office in the art deco skyscraper penthouse was so ridiculous it was good, at least at making me laugh, as they did a sort of trust exercise and spinned dramatically in spinny chairs while bouncing a basketball and unrolling scrolls on a drafting table. Maybe… maybe… the city planning aspect (while dumb as hell) kind of connects to how Rome would do very deliberate city planning??!

Every time Adam Driver referred to his Nobel Prize (often holding it up in its little case!) was a riot.

Another good laugh – when Adam Driver is partying because he’s upset (I can’t remember why – because his mom is nuts maybe?) And Julia mutters into her bracelet/smartwatch: “10:17pm. Drunk AND high.” The Caesar/Driver being drunk AND high montage is so silly! I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it’s like to be drunk AND high!!!!

Best, was when we got permission to laugh harder at the vestal virgin in her post-scandal, hellfire joan jett haircut & eyeliner phase. OMFG best scene of the whole movie.

I loved being in a theater with other people who were also bursting into laughter and kind of groaning during the Serious moments. It was irresistible to me during the last half of the movie to attribute everything to Marcus Aurelius. All the quotes made me kind of hit my head and groan. It was all so sophomoric! Even the things I kind of liked I also didn’t like! Or I thought they were badly done in some way.

BUT then I was thinking, well, it is not a “good movie” by what we expect to be happening in a good movie, or in its narrative style fitting what we think is good, but that doesn’t make it invalid artistically! No one is (now) telling Herman Melville to “show don’t tell” so maybe I can kind of treat these plonking philosophical bits and the entire speech from Hamlet as Melville-ish digressions. But did it achieve those digressive glories? No. Not quite enough for me.

Things that made me go hmmmmm:
– The basic horrible elitism and “great man” theory infusing it all.
– The mob scenes are all about “the people” being manipulated and used by a few unscrupulous elites. It chilled me to the bone to have “power to the people” be shown in that way by someone who was around for the civil rights movement. It felt deeply racist and also like a racist dog whistle. We can see it as FFC’s commentary on Rome I guess. But none of the Rome stuff went that deep. “The people” don’t have any agency or politics or thoughts or even art (the whole fucking theme of the movie presumably, “Art”)
– None of our (in the U.S.) actual cultural connection to Rome and the various myths of Rome were really touched on. Coppola’s take on Rome and Caesar and everything felt like it came from having read some very outdated historian’s fusty 1890s perspective on the OG sources.
– The hideous sexism. Does anyone go, hey, does Julia also have this magic time stop power since she sees you do it and sees through it? No. no one asks. She is just there to be a muse and to BELIEVE IN HER MAN, who is a GENIUS.
– The more hideous sexism of the mayor being like “can’t you just be daddy’s little girl?” and trying to cockblock her whole relationship
– His original animosity towards Caesar/Driver very much unexplained. Why did he hide his dead wife’s body etc? What??
– Though I guess Julia does have the power with her one year of medical school to surgically reconstruct an entire eyeball and brain and face with Megalon ™. (But maybe just by girlishly Believing. Unclear.)
– that bit at the end where they are entering the world’s fair ass looking park where apparently inventing shiny escalators has solved all world problems, but the same mob who was grimy and looking through a chain link and barbed wire fence a few moments ago is now dressed in their best holiday party gear. Are they stepping merrily into the world’s fair? no! they are looking UP at the platform of famous pop star/politician elites step onto the shiny escalator in the sparsely populated theme park.
– just a nitpick, but if Adam Driver didn’t know his dead wife was preggers when she died, how?! since she was VERY pregnant including maybe an entire baby growing inside each enormous boob

I also thought, maybe this would have been a better movie if it had been made when he first thought of it! I don’t regret seeing it and I kind of like it better the further I get from being in the actual theater watching it and hitting my head groaning or shrieking with laughter. it did make an impression!

Maybe it wasn’t for ME… maybe it was for that 14 year old who is only starting to think about history and art, and looking for something to hook those thoughts on!

Well, anyway, I still love art deco curvey futurism.

But you don’t get to a place where the future is better and art is healing and the ecological interconnectedness of the Earth is respected, by looking to a Lone Genius Science Man to invent a magical substance that fixes everything and then having a bazillionaire donate a lot of money to fund it! And anyone sensible would know that because they would have thought about something that wasn’t the shallowest possible sophomoric Boomer-assed, Fountainhead-brainrotted, literary canon! They might have READ SOME SCIENCE FICTION which is literally a whole genre of people writing about the Future! Maybe even some feminist science fiction which deliberately writes about collective action, people’s relationships, people actually caring for each other day to day instead of giving an occasional speech about Love while totally forgetting birth control might exist, ETCETERA. The Earth / planet not even mentioned till the very last frame of the movie – I guess there were ecological problems (that weren’t fueled or caused by corporate/elite greed??????????????) that are all solved by MEGALON. Whew!

There is my review!

I definitely enjoyed the movie!

Conversational power

Posted on by Liz

Up till now the voice versions of “AI” have given me the same irritated feeling I get while listening to an automated phone menu. I feel frustrated or impatient listening to the voices of things like Alexa or Siri. I don’t trust them on some fundamental level.

The other night I watched a video clip with Danny, where someone asked ChatGPT to chat wiht it in a Cockney accent. I had watched it earlier and thought, Huh that’s convincing, it sounds very much like Danny’s family. When we watched it together I saw his face go through a very complicated sequence of emotions. It was just wild.

Then the next day I tried asking it for a chat in a Rhode Island accent that was from someone Italian-American. It answered, “Sure,”and with that one word I felt my face do what Danny’s did the day before. I felt surprise, shock, fascination, fear, vulnerability. In the short paragraph it then generated, which was a normal thing for someone to say from where I was born and where the core of my family was from. I got a sort of homily, an offer of coffee milk*, and was told, “Mangia!”. That sounds so stereotypical but the personality and conversational subject felt as correct as the accent (if maybe a little bit of a stereotype). As the hair on the back of my neck stood up I had a strong memory of my grandmother (who I was estranged from for much of my life) singing “A You’re Adorable” and tenderly reading to me while I was in her lap.

The evoker of the Cockney accent, the video maker, appeared in their short chat to bond with the ChatGPT generated personality, at the end saying goodbye with a warm “love to the family”.

It is interesting we both experienced such powerful emotions. I think that even without our particular contexts of alienation or distance, people’s relationship with “AI-ness” is going to change, because it feels very different to talk with an entity that expresses a personality. It feels grounded, rooted, and has at least the warmth level of making small talk with an affable stranger who you might meet in daily life.

The veneer of culture and personality may be thin right now. It’s likely that when I go back and try this exercise in more depth, ChatGPT will cycle through a fairly short list of stereotypical “Rhode Island Italian” things it can insert into the conversation. But that level was enough for casual chat. It is far from the phone tree voice or robocall that you want to throw across the room. Definitely worth a handshake.

—–

*

“What the hell is coffee milk?” Danny asked me. “Um. I have some in our fridge right now is what.” (I special order it from Rhode Island is what. It’s delicious! “A swallow will tell you!”)

“And (looking at the text of our chat) what does m-a-n-g-i-a” mean?” he asked, Britishly.
Me: [!!!!! (laughing uproariously)] Only a thing I was told every single day a million times!

a plastic bottle of coffee syrup made by Autocrat, with a bird logo

Bop Spotter

Posted on by Liz

I love this project, the Bop Spotter! This is my neighborhood and I love its musical landscape.

Sometimes I add to it myself from a bluetooth speaker on my wheelchair, but more often I’m surreptitiously shazaming the music around me from others’ speakers, from cars, from businesses I’m going by on the sidewalk.

This is a cool use of a old/low end phone – hooking it up to a little solar panel on a utility pole. The web page shows the community’s culture to the community. It’s community data collection that’s positive, approachable, and fun. We are also invited to listen along on Apple Music or Spotify!

You could expand this project out in different ways, like log all the music, make it searchable, count the times we hear particular songs or artists, make it possible to, in the future, reconstruct the public musical soundscape of this corner!

It’s beautiful just as it is of course, but I get kind of excited about the archival aspect of communicating with the future!

Oct 8: Zine-making workshop with the SF Disability Cultural Center

Posted on by Liz

I’ll be giving a free workshop on how to make a tiny zine, coming up in a week or so, hosted via Zoom with the San Francisco Disability Cultural Center. It’s happening Tuesday, October 8, 2024, 6:00 PM – 7:30 PM Pacific time. Please register to get the link and more information!

Mini-zines are easy and fun to make – something about their tiny form is very freeing! Liz Henry, poet, literary translator, small press publisher, hacker, and maker of innumerable zines, will facilitate this hands-on workshop. We’ll look at a few zines for inspiration and construct our tiny zines together. We’ll hang out and chat while we all start – and maybe finish – our own! Zine-making kits are available for folks in the Bay Area.

If you are in the Bay Area, you can also check out some other zine making communities and events!
– The DIY Museum is doing neat work and hosts a ton of events!
– SF Public Library’s monthly Zinething: https://sfpl.org/events/2023/10/17/activity-zinething
– Tiny Zine Library‘s Zine Club – 2nd Sunday of the month at Szygzy Coop in the Haight
– periodic events at Double Union makerspace in the Mission

I’m sure there are more, but these are the ones I know about!

two zines on a colorful tablecloth

Take the 49 indeed

Posted on by Liz

Tonight on the bus I met a really nice lady named Lulu who was reading a Mayan/ English phrase book and had some stunning eye makeup. We chatted about antifascist things and she was telling me stories about the 60s and I dunno, hanging out with Jefferson Airplane and all that sort of thing and I guess she taught herself some Mayan back then because of trying to work at a fancy bookstore where they didn’t hire her but did give her a free book on Mayan?! The one that the Mexican government published in the 1930s. I can’t remember all the things we talked about and have forgotten interesting details like the name of the specific bookstore, but I did give her a tiny zine while also saying with regret that I have no time to a) actually learn Mayan b) come to a labor organizing thing in North Beach of Mayan and Mam speaking restaurant workers! So maybe we will meet again. I thought of inviting her to the Soiree (since she had a walker, she would fit right in) but she was on her way to the labor thing. I also felt a nice feeling like OK maybe when I am 75 I will be riding the bus still with all my flamboyance and reading interesting books and meeting people. I hope so!

Onward to my event which was the “Wine and Chocolate Soiree” fundraiser (a criperati thing) where I got to have nice conversations with some of my friends who work for that org while drinking champagne and dipping tiny creampuffs and chunks of poundcake into a chocolate fountain in the Green Room above the opera house. THAT IS JUST HOW THEY ROLL. once a year they splash out and have a little gala. Maybe nonprofits get to rent it cheap. So I’m hanging out with Vince and his friend Ben and they told me about an accessible “ninja” course they made at some school in atherton (?) and then we were coming up with the best ideas for a wheelchair driven remotely with a glow in the dark life size Halloween lawn decor skeleton and a sign that says STILL WAITING FOR UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE or whatever, that we would drive around town. Vince said to look up something from brooklyn called Devil Baby where they haad some sort of prank stroller where you go look in and YAAAAAAAH DEVIL BABY pops out. OK!!! Time for another glass of free champagne!

Then this lady comes up to me and goes Oh is that a Pansy Division tshirt! Yes it is. Oh I played with them once! Oh really what was your band. Well do you know who I am, I’m J* L*R*y! I started laughing uproariously! I am sure my face was doing many strange things that I had zero control over.

Anyway, I blurted, Oh, that’s so highlarious!!! Because, I’m like, a micro niche famous hoax identity debunker! Hahahaha!

I was treated to some backstory which I mostly knew anyway because I do have a little side hobby sometimes of being interested in people’s (literary/blog) hoax identities!

So, that happened….

A few creampuffs later I dipped to return to the 49 bus stop where unfortunately a man was laughing to himself insanely with his pants down, jerking it in the middle of Van Ness and MacAlister right across from City Hall. I had some conflicted thought such as, well, he is just a sad and unhinged person who really doesn’t seem to know much about what is up, and he isn’t like, LOOKING at anyone, hes just like staring off into space in the other direction and guffawing? But I don’t really want to ride the BUS with him tho? I decided it would not help to go to a different stop and I’d just be rolling the dice for something weirder and more bad to happen! So he got on the bus near the back, and I got on with the ramp at the front, and I kept an eye peeled and sat on my folding cane in case I needed to physically block anyone, and all was well (he got off at 16th and the rest of the bus was peaceful)

The end!

Bathtubs and books, hippies

Posted on by Liz

I had a relaxing and luxurious bath this morning in our new clawfoot tub, which is blowing our minds after some years of only having a shower in the house. While I was in there I read a good way into a book someone left on our sidewalk bench, Polaroids from the Dead by Douglas Coupland. I liked the title and was curious what Mr. “Gen X” inventor had to say. (For accompaniment, I put on Lou Reed’s album Transformer.) So far, Polaroids strikes me as mostly accurate in mood and content. I moved to the Bay Area in 1990 so it was all very familiar. It did feel a little more like the late 80s but still, accurate.

Part of the mood that I enjoyed was that it conveyed our (us being people roughly of my age in 1991 or so) attitude towards hippies and the 70s, which was that they seemed to have had all the fun and excitement but that there was a little left for us; they would kindly sell us blotter acid, and we could still go see them in concert.

I thought less about California in the 90s while reading this book and more about Austin in the 80s. I lived in or hung out at various co-ops (and yes it was pretty much exactly like the movie Slacker which captured the vibe perfectly (ofc I knew half the people in there) in that it was possible to live on your part time minimum wage job and go to school and fuck around doing art and music or whatever. ) So tempting to keep nesting parentheses, but no.

Here’s me with a guy I briefly “dated” (if you can call it that) from Arrakis Co-op and then a little after I moved into 21st Street Co-op in late 1986 or early 1987. He was a Deadhead and very nice, and had cases and cases of taped Dead concerts carefully labelled & often with very lovely art and handwritten liner notes. (I remember being impressed with this and also with how he would diligently do all his engineering homework, then hit the bong with equal diligence afterward.) But my point is that hippie culture was not at all dead in 1987, or 1990. It was alive and kicking. I was so relieved that I hadn’t missed my chance after all to experience it.

two white young people, me in sleeveless crop top, guy with mullet in a Woodstock tshirt

There was a guy who would come by the Loud Suite (where I lived at first in 21st St) named Motorcycle Michael, who had long white guy dreads done up in a crocheted hat, drove a van, and always wore pretty much the same outfit made of that gorgeous oaxacan or guatemalan woven cloth and a tie died tshirt. He seemed to be the most obvious dealer hanging out there and I don’t think I bought anything from him (I did not need to ; see above photo of me; do you think I got free bong hits or??! It didn’t even occur to me, and besides, I had no money) It did not have any sort of creepy feel (Drug dealer or pusher hanging out with teenage students) but rather, a sort of benevolent uncle and friend vibe. (Trust me I have seen the creepy, gross, skeevy ones and know; or maybe i just am overly impressed with any older guy who was decent enough not to hit on me) Like, his life was bopping around between Mexico and all over Texas maybe, living in his van, hanging out with people who were pretty chill, listening to good music, being super generous with his time and energy, telling funny stories, helping people out, going to Dead concerts. He was part of the culture! I heard a while back through a co-op FB group that he died, and then I just looked him up again and found this interesting memoriam.

Pic below of Loud Suite life:

several young people sitting on dilapidated couches, looking happy

Lest you all think of me as a drug addled fool, I can reassure you I was not much into excess, was a complete lightweight, would cut blotter acid into quarters, etc. etc. (We won’t even talk about where the other drugs like X came from, *cough* *Rice chemistry students*) It was occasional! And social! I swear! Anyway, I still graduated and I appear to have a reasonable amount of brain cells left.

A more wholesome photo, of a bunch of us cooking in the industrial kitchen – I learned to cook here, and was dinner cook (for 100 people) and menu planner for many years. Here, Ethan, Paul Macafee, Karen, Mike LeFebre, and I are drinking Old Milwaukee and cooking dinner. Ok, mostly wholesome. I blame Paul for the cheap gross beer choice.

several young people gathered around a giant bowl of steaming food. they are drinking old milwaukee beers

ANYWAY. Because of prepping to go see The Way to Eden in Star Trek Live tonight we watched the original episode yesterday and laughed our asses off at the space hippie children! (Their drug use is implied only, but their vibe is impeccable!) Star Trek tried hard to come to grips with how the future might see hippies. Were they wrong?!

There were really lovely hippietastic moments I remember, like about 40 people from the co-op all tripping and going to see Koyaanisqatsi together. It was fine! We were a lovely social amoeba moving across the town and into the movie theater! The point was not the drugs so much as it was being gorgeously social and also experiencing and creating music and culture together!

I have forgotten my point. I have more to say about hippies, drugs, and the internet, which we all talked about at DWeb Camp and which I kind of go into in my long poem “Whole Earth Catalog”. But here, I think my point was that I have found it funny and a little sad sometimes to see people now worrying that they missed raves, or grunge, or riot grrrl, or zines, or whatever, and then I absolutely fucking love it when they realize they can JUST DO THOSE THINGS. Nothing is stopping you! You are in history, too! You can make an entire scene happen, and also, whatever else you are doing now, someone is going to look back on with fondness and longing, in some way that you are not even aware of as a Thing! You are in your own Thing right now!!!!!

So many shows!

Posted on by Liz

I am trying to remember all the shows and concerts I’ve been to in the last couple of months, all of which I had resolved to blog about. Maybe I can go backwards in time a little and this is going to be a mix of punk shows and opera. It has been a fabulous summer of having TICKETS. (I LOVE TICKETS!!!)

cameron diaz saying TICKETS! I *LOVE * TICKETS

Last week was for opera as I went with my friend Lisa the music critic to a winery in Napa to see Abduction from the Seraglio, which was fluffy and kind of adorable in a beautiful setting. The two sopranos stood out to me the most (which must be common in amateur enjoyers of opera) as Brenda Rae awed me with her technical skills & I also just really dug Krista Pape’s voice which never, ever sounded strained. The guy singing Osmin also had a spectacular bit in the last act. I’m not very familiar with this operam but Lisa mentioned they cut some bits out for length. The other thing of note was that the singing was in German while the talking bits (not really recitative, just talking!) were translated to English. At intermission we met some adorable young people who liked my hair and the stickers on my powerchair. The one in the suit reminded me of young Annalee; she and her companion were both so cute and liked that I gave them stickers and zines. I think we may have also met one of their aunts (their “chaperone”).

We then stayed for a super fancy dinner and some great musicians. I realized we were surrounded by people who like, own entire wineries, which was a bit weird but interesting, and that everyone at our table was drinking tremendous amounts but was still coherent. I did taste some of every kind of wine offered (3 kinds through the various courses, plus port, plus another one) but could not actually drink all of it, or began to falter midway through glass 3. All of the wine was delicious. I was pretty tipsy on the way home!

Another opera jaunt to the Italian Cultural Institute, with Astrid and our friend Dracaena Wolf to see the sneak preview for the upcoming Ars Minerva production of La Flora. Swooned as usual over Celine Ricci’s description of research in dusty libraries or laboriously scrolling through microfilm. BTW if you get on the Italian Cultural Institute’s maling list they often have great events for free. The songs by the cast of La Flora were good ! I’m looking forward to that show in November! Also I am burning to someday get to play on a harpischord. I could see the guy playing’s hands and I could imagine playing what he was playing as accompaniment – I am sure I could even sight read it, slowly and badly – We had dinner afterwards at Cafe Macaroni (or something?) which was delicious and so instantly homey to me (Sicilian family side of things) I wonder why I do not go more often to that neighborhood for actual italian food. I will be back to that spot for sure tho. Dracaena played me some short clips of her music, which was wild – doing very strange stuff technically with rhythmic variations and i think different … scales? that was over my head but i could glimpse and yet also being clearly danceable. I can’t wait to hear more from her.

Mosswood Meltdown was great as usual – lots of low key lying on our picnic blanket feeling happy – drinking weak margaritas, smoking dope, and admiring everyone’s outfits – I especially loved Go Sailor and their pop punk joy – Pansy Division made me all starry-eyed – and the B52s of course were fantastic performers. I also bought a black and white checkered sweatshirt and a ridiculous neon pink and green mesh crop top.

Team Dresch show was probably the highlight of my summer show going (so far) as they were perfect in every way – it was (like i mentioned with Hanna’s book talk) like seeing them as mature adults rather than flailing, fellow damaged kids in their early 20s when I was also – Donna Dresch 100% admirable as she rocked out and competently messed around with the guitar pedals (I was right at her feet). Kai(a?) Wilson on point – Jody Bleyle very adorkable in a pokemon hat – entire dynamic of the band beautiful. Oceanator was impressive – more to the rock side of “punk” which I could appreciate though it is not my preference for genre – and Eddie & the Heartbeats touching folk punk that sometimes made me tear up as bits of the songs and stories made me think of my own stories – At some point I accidentally imposed (?) on someone who is some kind of scene queen of SF punk, but she was nice and helped my friend Gina get a chair and made way for me right at the front and also went ot get me a drink, implying it would be the work of a moment as she knows the bartenders, then miraculously reappearing with my beer – I have forgotten her name but maybe it starts with an M. She had an entertaining back story of being a fucked up girl in her early 20s and being hired by some specific (beer?) company to buy people their “first” beer (Black Star?) and she had a corporate credit card to do so and so was Very Popular at all the early 90s lesbian bars of the entire Bay Area. Also before that show I was way too early by accident & ended up inviting a girl named Tessa (“girl” but … probably only a bit younger than me) who loves robotics (Maybe teaches it) to get ice cream, and we had slightly too sweet but delicious “instragrammable” artisanal ice cream sandwiches before the show, but then I lost her to the smoking patio and she left early. I like Bottom of the Hill a lot as a venue! Lovely.

Commando, charming emo noise band Godgifu ( who kind of made me think of cheerfuler Bliss Blood/Pain Teens) , and Boyswitch at the Ivy Room – Boyswitch was TIGHT and great performers. I bought their cassette tape and all their merch! I love Commando and am always there to cheer on Lynnee’s poem about Prince – and their metally funk goodness & chaos in general – and feel kind of stabbed in the heart in a good way from Juba’s incredible poetry & rapping – A great show. You should BUY and READ Juba’s excellent book Son of Byford. A great poet with a far-ranging mind, my favorite sort of complicated poetry.

There is more but that will have to be it for now. All very short because I want to catch up a bit to the Now.

Weird SF and a kids’ book binge

Posted on by Liz

I did a lot of trying to say no to things and step down from things I wasn’t doing (well enough, or in some cases, at all) which was kind of my therapy homework and which was very difficult. Why is focusing so difficult? Why can’t we live 6 lives at once??? Why am I getting older and more tired? It just has to be.

More centrally (the therapy part I suppose) What if I didn’t feel like I was somehow failing all the time and disappointing people? I think last time I said this in semi-public a little group of my friends stared at me silently, looked around the table at each other and then one of them as spokesperson explained that when I said things like that with all the things I actually do manage to accomplish, I was insulting them. Like if I thought that harshly of myself, when I had a job, was in grad school, had a toddler, and was still also doing extra projects, then… how was I judging them? Years later I still think of this (thanks elaine) and how helpful it was at giving me a kick in the ass. (Not an instant fix obviously, but a useful insight)

Dealing lots with architects/contractors. There is some little thing every day and a bigger meeting once a week. Construction continues under our house. Someday, someday! we will live in that bit of house, it will all have wheelchair access, I will have a REAL BATH and soak and read in the tub, without the noise of power tools, and I will get to fix up the garden again to enjoy it.

Last week and this week, I’m focusing in on work for DIFxTech and on GOAT. I even got a little help from M. in discussing how to catalogue and tag some of the GOAT archive – how useful to have another librarian in the family! And both kids were here last week and are now back at school while Danny is in Europe till the end of the week.

Annoyingly I not only got a cold (not Covid thankfully) but also got my period for the 2nd time in the past year, resetting my menopause clock so I will still be officially “perimenopause” till at least next January. Mother of God, I was so fucking pissed, it was so great to have it over with, but no. Fuck!!

I took a sewing lesson in the Mission, making a striped velvet zippered throw pillow with fabric that reminded me of one of my grandmother’s couches that had similar colors and how I would lie on it and pet the velvet one way & then the other. Got my sewing machine out resolving to practice on it on some scraps but then realized the pedal was missing which led me to clean out the entire row of cabinets.

Will I actually learn to sew and finally complete the blue jean blanket of my dreams – modeled after that crazy quilt bed cover I slept under once in the 90s at Harry and Daffodil’s house, made of I think Daff’s former lover’s favorite jeans, with all the pockets and rips on top and the underneath soft with the texture of the inside-out frayed bits. It was comfy and comforting and so bittersweet to think of his love for this dead young man and all the ways the radical faerie & other community had come together & was grieving so hard. I have forgotten his name but not the love that whoever made the quilt had for him. I think he must have been an amazing person.

In reading this week and last:

Loved the Christopher Rowe books and short stories, tons of Weird Kentucky, the wonderful Navigating Fox, and I hope maybe there could be more about the detective dog. (Maybe a prequel so we also get the crow friend?)

I also loved Tuf Voyaging, which somehow I have never read. It’s a great read that comes off like light space opera, but which is actually kind of a complicated moral fable. The Portmaster was so interesting – like Martin trying to write in a super valid critique of his too powerful main character and what power does to him – I am always saying this so I warmed to it. It was like seeing him in dialogue with the ghostly hand of feminist science fiction, so I enjoyed that. Plus of course I warmed to the (too powerful) nerd hero and his cats and his (too powerful) spacecraft (as the youth say, he is “a bit acoustic” in a charming way.) Having the down to earth feministsf Portmaster tell him off repeatedly did not stop the OP MC one bit. But she wasn’t treated badly in the story, and she gets some kittens, and she had her own problematic behaviors; I liked how Martin treated her as a character.

Damiano by R.A. MacAvoy. Readble but not my favorite, a little too fetishy of a certain type of anguished christian man that just annoys me. I did like the witch Sara from Fennland for a moment, and then didn’t again (bad boyfriend, whinges too much about age) I also don’t think much of Damiano. Oops I accidentally slaughtered more people with my magic ™ waah waah oh my little doggie is so pure oh also my literal angel who i definitely don’t lust after, wahh wahh but also women are purty. Goth cosplay and a broken lute! The end. (Sorry everyone.)

Very, very, very annoyed by Rome of One’s Own, which I feared was going to annoy me. I had some hope it might be a nice overview, since “forgotten” women of history of basically anywhere and when is one of my very favorite things to read. Maybe I would learn something about women of ancient Rome. BUT NO. It’s so, so bad y’all. The most annoying kind of “history” book.

I want to just blast it with my scorn for a moment but let me set a background first. At best, the book is trying to explain that historical interpretation can change over time. But it fails to make that clear and usually ignores the historical context of it sources. Instead it messily conflates truth, what the authors of those sources (Livy, Ovid, or whoever) thought was true, what later generations thought, or may have thought, was true and how they interpreted a story about a particular woman, and then what the book’s author and apparently, her (British, women) readers will read into that story. Often kind of (and only kind of!) attributing agency, empowerment, or historical importance to the woman in the story.

If you want an example of this done incredibly well, I love how Margaret Reynolds approaches it in The Sappho Companion.

Rome of One’s Own did not do it well. It was like I was nonconsensually shunted into a wine o’clock mumsnet party who were all incoherently yelling “You go, girl!”

Please just go read some primary sources! OMFG!

There could have been a fine book here that clearly outlined, here’s some things that particular writers said about particular women who may or may not have been semi-mythical, and exactly when that was, and what else was going on, and then, what other people in England/Great Britain then said about those women in subsequent centuries and how they reinterpreted things in their own context! And then you could add your own Liberated Ladies perspective onto that but make it clear what you are DOING. you could write a popular audience history book that lays some coherent groundwork and is still readable!

And, only talking about what Livy and Ovid and like 3 other dudes said about some mythical women of Rome’s founding, does a huge disservice to all the cool history of regular people and women’s daily lives that we can look at from the past… century that puts it into actual context including with archeological sources!

Here is where I should recommend something better as an antidote and I do have examples but the first thing that comes to mind is Elizabeth Wayland Barber’s “Women’s Work” and of course Prehistoric Textiles. (Way too broad in scope, not actually Rome, but gives you actual information! that! is! organized!)

I then bounced hard off a detective thriller, Zero Day. It started OK promising a married pen testing duo and a competent hacker heroine and then went quickly to some places I did not want to go: a background of what sounds like violent/life threatening/maybe rapey abuse by her cop ex boyfriend, and her nice hacker husband murdered by chapter 2. I can’t read that shit while D. is out of town! Fuck no!

Not to mention, after the murder, she gets a mysterious email saying that there is a mysterious 1 million dollar life insurance policy and she CLICKS THE PDF IN THE EMAIL.

Nope nope nope! Must we?! NOT going to finish that one. If there is a less violent novel by Ruth Ware, with less dwelling on women’s fear, trauma, and fucking up, please let me know.

To clear my mind of all that, I went on a Project Gutenberg spree and downloaded a lot of dumb Angela Brazil books (The Jolliest Term on Record; Madcap of the School), an equally ridiculous Cherry Ames book, and Clematis by Bertha Browning Cobb which is a lovely book about a neglected orphan and her beloved kitten. And some things off the 19th century list of classic kids’ books. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_children%27s_classic_books that I haven’t read.

So in short, BRB, gonna play some jolly field hockey with my chums and then go back to my digs for tea and spiffing rock cake (wtf is that, i’m still not sure but it does not sound nice). Why is diggings, or digs, school slang for where you live? mining and miners? archaeology? something else?)

How to make a coronavirus piñata

Posted on by Liz

I bet you would like to BEAT COVID-19. And here is one way! Make your own coronavirus piñata and (safely socially distanced, masked, outdoors) hit the piñata until it is DEFEATED!

All the diagrams of the shape of the virus that I’ve seen have a round shape with at least 3 different sizes of “protein spikes” coming out from the middle, with each kind being a different height. Each spike has an extra bit on top like a flat top or a sort of flower shape. This is not too hard to make, but doing the “protein spikes” was a little bit of a challenge.

Here’s one model I looked at, from the CDC:

coronavirus diagram

Here’s how I made a coronavirus piñata, in some detail! I am putting in all the details, because, while I grew up making piñatas I realize a lot of people did not or they bought their piñatas from a store. It’s so much fun to make them because the multi-day process builds up anticipation.

Make a standard piñata shell over a large balloon.

(You can also use a plastic or paper grocery bag stuffed with paper or other bags to make the shape – the important thing is, you have to be able to pull all that stuff OUT of a small hole.)

You will need:

  • about 3-4 days
  • a round balloon
  • flour
  • water
  • a bowl
  • a newspaper
  • some twine or strong cord
  • somewhere to work
  • black paint
  • regular school glue
  • thick cardstock or thin cardboard, two or three pieces
  • paintbrush (or your fingers)
  • scissors
  • red, orange, and yellow rolls crepe paper (or colors of your choice)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees NOOOOOOO I’m joking. Never put your piñata in the oven. It will catch on fire. Very bad idea!

Mix a bowl of warm water and some flour to make a thin, soupy paste, beating out all the lumps. Tear some newspaper into long strips a little less wide than the space between two fingers (so that you can efficiently use your fingers to strip the paste from the newspaper).

Set up a place where you can make a mess. It helps to have either a place to hang the balloon on the cord from somewhere that puts the balloon at your working level, or, you can perch the balloon on a tray or on top of a cooking pot.

Tie the cord to the end of the balloon, leaving a long piece to hang the piñata, and about 6 inches or so on the shorter end, to build into your paper mache base.

This is going to make a big mess!

Now, take a strip of newspaper, carefully dip it into the flour and water, and use your fingers like a squeegee to strip excess paste from the newspaper. This takes a delicate touch because when the paper gets wet, it will break easily. Now lay the paper across your balloon. Repeat this until the balloon is covered with 1 layer of paper. Leave a hole near the top to put in the candy, decorations, and prizes!

Hang the piñata to dry. If you have a space heater you can put it nearby. Otherwise, it will take at least a day to dry out.

unpainted wet pinata

Wash your bowl and work surface quickly so the paste doesn’t dry into glue!

Once the shell is dry I do recommend you add one more layer. Unless your piñata is for very small children – in that case one layer might be okay.

Repeat everything to add another layer of paper!

Hang the piñata to dry again. (And, now, you can pop the balloon if it hasn’t popped already!

It does not matter if your piñata is not perfect, or it’s lumpy, or a weird shape. It will still look amazing once you cover it with paper, and you are going to break it anyway!! Don’t worry!

Look how ugly it is! But we have no worries.

lumpy looking pinata base

(I am leaving out the part where I hung the piñata outside in the sun to dry, then forgot about it. Raccoons came in the night and slashed it open, so I had to add some repairs and dry the shell again before I painted it. I recommend you skip the step with the raccoons. Again – do not worry about any little imperfections, such as a raccoon invasion, or that your virus is not a perfect sphere.)

Now you have some choices. Normally I would wrap the piñata around and around in overlapping layers of frilly crepe paper, but for this coronavirus effect, I painted the balloon shell instead. I thought black would hide any imperfections in the shape and would make the color of the protein spikes stand out more beautifully! I used washable tempera paint that cost about 3 dollars for a 16 oz container. The paint dried in a couple of hours when I hung the piñata near a space heater. Otherwise, expect it to dry overnight.

Now you are ready for the decorations!

Take your roll of crepe paper, and stick the scissors into it so that you are cutting a fringe about 1/3 of the way through several layers of paper at once. This next picture shows what that looks like, with a sneak preview of making it into a tall spike shape!

crepe-paper-spike

You can’t cut too many layers at once, just cut a few, then make some decorations, then when the fringed part ends, cut some more fringe into the roll.

To make the spikes, I had two requirements. One, they have to be strong enough hold the “flower” fringes of paper up high at two different heights. And two, I have to be able to attach them firmly to the piñata base. But how to do this? (Tape will not work!)

I happened to have thick colored cardstock in bright yellow and orange, the same color as the crepe paper I bought. But, my original plan was to use plain white cardstock or strips of a thick cardboard box, painted black. Construction paper might work if you roll it into a tube with several layers. Another idea, you could use paper or plastic straws.

So, using my cardstock (#60 thickness I happen to know) I cut out rectangles and taped them into small tubes about the size of a drinking straw. Then, cut the base of the tube 3 times to give 3 flanges to glue onto the piñata. If you look back at the photo above you can see the tube and two visible flanges.

Then, I wrapped the fringed crepe paper around the other half of the tube and taped it into place. Spread out the fringe to make the flat, carnation-like top of the protein spike for our virus!

Then glue the spike onto the piñata and hold it for a moment for the glue to stick. This took a couple of hours to make all the tall spikes, then the medium spikes.

Here is a picture of this phase of construction. In it, you can see that my shape is not perfect, the paper is very lumpy, and the paint job is not very good. None of those things mattered – You are not building something perfect; you are building a PARTY.

pinata construction phase

The most numerous spikes are the short red ones, much less work. For those I just used the base of the crepe paper, cut into flanges, and glued them directly to the piñata base.

Things got tricky because the glue does not hold quickly enough to stop the taller spikes from falling off, unless they are at the top of the sphere. So I had to keep turning the piñata and carefully propping it up, without squashing the spikes.

pinata half finished

Maybe you will think of a better way to do that! Or maybe you will have better glue!

But, while I am working on it, it’s so peaceful and meditative. I’m thinking of the vision of the finished object, and also thinking with love of the event and the people I will host and how they will be astonished by the ridiculousness of this project and the ephemeral nature of ritual celebration and destruction ! We will BEAT the CORONAVIRUS! Together! With joy and love!! And from it, somehow, we will extract ABUNDANT GOOD THINGS even if those things, when not metaphors, are little bottles of hand sanitizer and chocolate bars and “crispy fruit” packets from Big Lots!

It reminds me of my favorite poem by María Eugenia Vaz Ferreira about ephemeral things!

You must put all of that love into your piñata making. It is very important!

Back to construction: I think you could go faster by having one layer of the spikes be nearly flat to the surface, then the crepe-paper height layer, then only one layer of “tall” spikes on straws or other tubes. But, your finished product might lack a little bit of panache.

Once you’re done gluing, let your spikes dry for some hours. Then carefully stuff the piñata with candy or prizes and some crumpled remains of the crepe paper as filler.

Oh! It’s almost done now!! But after taking this photo I added more spikes because I noticed a big empty spot!!

me with pinata

Look how beautiful it is when finished, despite its asymmetry, my sloppy paint job, and the raccoons! So festive! (At least, it is beautiful to me, after so many hours.)

finished pinata

Hang it up, play some music, and take turns ceremoniously beating it with a stick!

youth with pinata

It turned out that the pieces of the broken piñata were the perfect shape to make attractive hats.

milo with pinata hat

liz with hat

Have a good time! And if you make your own covid-19 piñata please show me the pictures!

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my FABULOUS SON!!!!! <3

Festival of the battling bugs

Posted on by Liz

My dad has been uploading photos from his mother’s albums and there is an interesting page of a religious festival in San Francisco de Yare in Venezuela. I vaguely remember him telling me stories about that or something similar and we made terrifying paper maché masks for some occasion (Maybe just for something fun to do).

A photo from my dad’s slides that I digitized some years ago:
devil dancer

And here are some of the pics with captions from my grandma’s album.
dancing devils festival

I believe we should have not only fabulous monuments to the Internet and other technical achievements but we should have amazing festivals. As I read out the description of the devils approaching the church, singing décimas and then kneeling in submission, Danny suggested a ceremonial Battle of the Bugs. Noisebridge could host a giant parade where we enact open source bugs (the demons) and the developers defeating them. I can picture different contingents acting out their particular dramas. I bet it would be easy to get companies as well as open source projects to participate.

I just love secular festivals and while I would not advocate stealing anything specific from this Venezuelan folkloric tradition it would be very cool to create some new festivals that are more like a giant participatory play, with dramas enacted, than a parade where we just walk around.

Suddenly imagining the Internet Drama play of the Content Moderators. Wow! It would be amazing!!!!