Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you
Sing
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself. Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t,
maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t,
maybe you’ll divorce at 40,
maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…
what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.. Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room. Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;
live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen…
Baz Luhrman

A little "f" friend vs A big "F" friend

A little "f" friend: identifies themselves when they call.
A big "F" Friend: doesn't have to.
A little "f" friend: opens a conversation with a full news bulletin on their life.
A big "F" Friend: says, "What's new with you?"
A little "f" friend: thinks the problems you whine about are recent.
A big "F" Friend: says, "You've been whining about the same thing for 14 years. Get off your duff and do something about it."
A little "f" friend: has never seen you cry.
A big "F" Friend: has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A little "f" friend: doesn't know your parent's first names.
A big "F" Friend: has your parent's phone numbers in their address book.
A little "f" friend: brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A big "F" Friend: comes early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.
A little "f" friend: hates it when you call after they have gone to bed.
A big "F" Friend: welcomes your call day or night.
A little "f" friend: seeks to talk with you about your problems
A big "F" Friend: seeks to help you with your problems
A little "f" friend: wonders about your romantic history.
A big "F" Friend: could blackmail you with it.
A little "f" friend: when visiting, act like a guest.
A big "F" Friend: when visiting, open your refrigerator, boss your kids around and sass your husband.
A little "f" friend: thinks the friendship is over when you argue.
A big "F" Friend: knows that a friendship's not a friendship until after you've had a fight.
A little "f" friend: expects you to always be there for them.
A big "F" Friend: expects to always be there for you!

Simple vs Real Friends

Anyone can stand by you when you are right, but a Friend will stand by you even when you are wrong...
A simple friend identifies himself when he calls. A real friend doesn't have to.
A simple friend opens a conversation with a full news bulletin on his life.
A real friend says, "What's new with you?"
A simple friend thinks the problems you whine about are recent.
A real friend says, "You've been whining about the same thing for 14 years. Get off your duff and do something about it."
A simple friend has never seen you cry. A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A simple friend doesn't know your parents' first names. A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.
A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed. A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.
A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems. A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.
A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest. A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.
A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.
A real friend knows that it's not a friendship until after you've had a fight.
A simple friend expects you to always be there for them. A real friend expects to always be there for you!

Poem

Do not stand at my grave and weepI am not there, I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow,I am the diamond's glint on snow,I am the sunlight on ripened grain,I am the gentle autumn rain.When you awaken in the morning's hushI am the swift uplifting rushof quiet birds in circled flight,I am the soft stars that shine at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry,I am not there, I did not die.

The Brown Man's Burden

The Brown Man's Burden
By Henry Labouchère
Truth (London); reprinted in Literary Digest 18 (Feb. 25, 1899).

Pile on the brown man's burden
To gratify your greed;
Go, clear away the "niggers"
Who progress would impede;
Be very stern, for truly
'Tis useless to be mild
With new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half devil and half child.

Pile on the brown man's burden;
And, if ye rouse his hate,
Meet his old-fashioned reasons
With Maxims up to date.
With shells and dumdum bullets
A hundred times made plain
The brown man's loss must ever
Imply the white man's gain.

Pile on the brown man's burden,
compel him to be free;
Let all your manifestoes
Reek with philanthropy.
And if with heathen folly
He dares your will dispute,
Then, in the name of freedom,
Don't hesitate to shoot.

Pile on the brown man's burden,
And if his cry be sore,
That surely need not irk you--
Ye've driven slaves before.
Seize on his ports and pastures,
The fields his people tread;
Go make from them your living,
And mark them with his dead.

Pile on the brown man's burden,
And through the world proclaim
That ye are Freedom's agent--
There's no more paying game!
And, should your own past history
Straight in your teeth be thrown,
Retort that independence
Is good for whites alone.

The Black Man's Burden
By: H.T. Johnson
Voice of Missions, VII (Atlanta: April 1899)

Pile on the Black Man’s Burden.
'Tis nearest at your door;
Why heed long bleeding Cuba,
or dark Hawaii’s shore?
Hail ye your fearless armies,
Which menace feeble folks
Who fight with clubs and arrows
and brook your rifle’s smoke.

Pile on the Black Man’s Burden
His wail with laughter drown
You’ve sealed the Red Man’s problem,
And will take up the Brown,
In vain ye seek to end it,
With bullets, blood or death
Better by far defend it
With honor’s holy breath.

Both of the above poems were written in response to Rudyard Kipling's famous poem written in 1899 to the U.S. as a response to the U.S. take-over of the Phillipines after the Spanish-American war:

The White Man's Burden

Take up the White Man's burden--
Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild--
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.

Take up the White Man's burden--
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden--
The savage wars of peace--
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden--
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper--
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go mark them with your living,
And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man's burden--
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard--
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:--
"Why brought he us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden--
Ye dare not stoop to less--
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloke your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden--
Have done with childish days--
The lightly proferred laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!

Get Up and Bar the Door-Old English Ballad/Poem

Get Up and Bar the Door

Traditional Ballads

IT fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was then,
When our good wife got puddings to make,
And she’s boild them in the pan.

The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,
“Gae 1 out and bar the door.”

“My hand is in my hussyfskap, 2
Goodman, as ye may see;
An it shoud nae be barrd this hundred year,
It’s no be barrd for me.”

They made a paction tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure,
That the first word whaeer shoud speak,
Shoud rise and bar the door.

Then by there came two gentlemen,
At twelve o’clock at night,
And they could neither see house nor hall,
Nor coal nor candle-light.

“Now whether is this a rich man’s house,
Or whether is it a poor?”
But neer a word wad ane o them speak,
For barring of the door.

And first they ate the white puddings,
And then they ate the black;
Tho muckle thought the goodwife to hersel,
Yet neer a word she spake.

Then said the one unto the other,
“Here, man, tak ye my knife;
Do ye tak aff the auld man’s beard,
And I’ll kiss the goodwife.”

“But there’s nae water in the house,
And what shall we do than?”
“What ails thee at the pudding-broo, 3
That boils into the pan?”

O up then started our goodman,
An angry man was he:
“Will ye kiss my wife before my een,
And scad 4 me wi pudding-bree?”

Then up and started our goodwife,
Gied three skips on the floor:
“Goodman, you’ve spoken the foremost word,
Get up and bar the door.”

Note 1. Housewifery. [back]
Note 2. Water in which the puddings were boiled. [back]
Note 3. Scald. [back]
Note 4. Dry, make. [back]
http://www.bartleby.com/40/20.html


"Get up and Bar the Door"

bt.com
It fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was then.
When our goodwife got puddings to make,
She's boild them in the pan.

The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,
"Gae out and bar the door."

"My hand is in my hussyfskap,
Goodman, as ye may see;
An it should nae be barrd this hundred year,
It's no be barrd for me."

They made a paction tween them twa.
They made it firm and sure,
That the first word whaeer shoud speak,
Shoud rise and bar the door.

Then by there came two gentlemen,
At twelve o'clock at night,
And they could neither see house nor hall,
Nor coal nor candlelight.

"Now whether is this a rich man's house,
Or whether it is a poor?"
But neer a word wad ane o' them speak,
For barring of the door.

And first they ate the white puddings,
And then they ate the black:
Tho muckle thought the goodwife to hersel,
Yet neer a word she spake.

Then said the one unto the other,
"Here, man, take ye my knife:
Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard,
And I'll kiss the goodwife."

"But there's nae water in the house,
And what shall we do than?"
"What ails ye at the pudding broo,
That boils into the pan?"

O up then started our goodman,
An angry man was he:
"Will ye kiss my wife before my een,
And scad me wi pudding bree?"

Then up and started our goodwife,
Gied three skips on the floor:
"Goodman, you've spoken the foremost word:
Get up and bar the door."

The Barrin' o' the Door

(Trad - Child 275)

O the barrin' o' the door o
Weel weel weel
O the barrin' o' the door
Weel

It fell about a Christmas time, and a cauld time it was then o
When our guidwife had puddings to make, and she boiled them in the pan

The wind it blew from north to south, and it blew untae the floor o
Said our guidman to his guidwife, Get up and bar the door

My hand is in the mixing bowl as well that you can see o
If it's never barred this hundred year, it'll not be barred by me

They made a pact between themselves, they made it firm and sure o
Whoever should speak the first word, should rise and bar the door

By there came two gentlemen at twelve o'clock at night o
There they saw the man and wife sitting by candlelight

Have we found a rich man's house, or is it but you're poor o
But neither o' them would speak a word for the barrin' o' the door

First they ate the white puddings and then they ate the black o
And though the guidwife thought a lot yet never a word she spak

Said one traveller tae the other ye're a man to wield a knife
You shave off the auld man's beard and I will kiss his wife

There's no hot water in the house, and what shall I do then o
Why don't you use the gravy that's boilin' in the pan

Then up jumped our guidman, and an angry man was he o
Wad ye kiss my wife before my eyes and shave my beard with gravy

Then up jumped our guidwife and skipped around the floor o
Admit it now, you've spoken first, get up and bar the door

1, As sung by the Ian Campbell Folk Group

John Blunt

There was an old couple lived under the hill
Blunt, it was their name-o
They had good beer and ale for to sell
It bore a wonderful fame-o

John Blunt and his wife, they drank of the drink
Until they could drink no more-o
They both got tired and they went up to bed
And forgot to bar the door-o

So they a bargain, bargain made
Made it strong and sure-o
The first of them should speak the first word
Should get up and bar the door-o

So there came travellers, travellers three
Travelling in the night-o
No house, no home, no fire had they
Nor yet no candle light-o

They went to his cellar, they drank up his drink
Until they could drink no more-o
But never a word did the old couple speak
For fear who should bar the door-o

They went to his larder, they ate up his food
Until they could eat no more-o
And never a word did the old couple speak
For fear who should bar the door-o

They went upstairs, they went to his room
They broke down the door-o
But never a word did the old couple speak
For fear who should bar the door-o

They hauled his wife all out of the bed
Laid her out on the floor-o
Then up got poor John Blunt in his bed
For he could stand no more-o

Says, You've eaten my food, you've drunk all my drink
Laid my wife on the floor-o

You spoke the first word, John Blunt, she said
So go down and bar the door-o

2, as sung by Martin Carthy under the title John Blunt


Get Up and Bar the Door or JOAN AND JOHN BLOUNT

There was an old couple lived under a hill
Joan and John Blount they were called, oh
They brewed great ale all for to sell
They brewed it wonderful well, oh

John Blount and his wife drank some of his ale
Till they could drink no more, oh
They both went to bed with a drop in their head
And forgot to bar the door, oh

A bargain, a bargain this old couple made
A bargain firm and sure, oh
The very first one that should speak the first word
Should go down to bar the door oh

Along came travelers, travelers three
Traveling in the night oh
No house nor shelter could they find
No fire nor candle light oh

And straight to John Blount's house they went
And boldly opened the door oh
But not one word did the old couple say
For fear one should bar the door oh

They ate of his victuals, they drank of his drink
Till they could drink no more oh
But not one word did the old couple say
For fear one should bar the door oh

Then straight upstairs these travelers went
And took the old woman out of her bed
And kissed her on the floor oh
But not one word did the old couple say
For fear one should bar the door oh

"You've eat of my victuals, you drank of my drink
You've kissed my wife on the floor oh"

"John Blount" she said, "You've spoke the first word
Go down and bar the door oh"

"If you don't like what they did unto me
They kissed me on the floor oh
Take this to be as a warning see
Every night you bar the door oh"

Get Up and Bar the Door (4)
The wind blew high, the wind blew cold,
It blew across the moor,
When John Jones said to Jane, his wife,
"Get up and bar the door."

"Oh, I have worked all day," said she,
"I've washed and scrubbed the floor,
You lazy man, get up, I say,
Get up and bar the door."

Oh, I have worked so hard," said he,
"I know I can't do more;
So come, my own, my dearest wife,
Get up and bar the door.

Then they agreed between the two,
A solemn oath they swore,
That the one who spoke the very first word
Would have to bar the door.

The wind blew east, the wind blew west,
It blew all over the floor,
But neither one would say a word
For barrin' of the door.

Three robbers came along that way,
They came across the moor;
They saws Light and walked right in,
Right in through the open door.

"Oh, is the owner of this house
A rich man or a poor?"
But neither one would say a word
For barrin' of the door.

They ate the bread, they drank the ale,
Then said, "Come, give us more."
But neither one would say sword
For barrin' of the door.

"Let's pull the old man's beard" said one,
"Let's beat him till he's sore."
But still the old man wouldn't speak
For barrin' of the door.

"I'll kiss his pretty wife," said one,
"Oh, her I could adore."

And then the old man shook his fist
And gave a mighty roar.
"Oh, you'll not kiss my wife," said he,
"I'll throw you on the floor.

Said she, "Now, John, you've spoken first,
So get up and bar the door.

Fledgling by Octavia Butler

Fledgling by Octavia Butler
Butler is by far my favorite author. She has deep main characters that are usually large, strong, capable, intelligent black women who are different than the mainstream and not afraid of those differences. In many ways the main characters of her novels represent an idealized form of me. I also like the fact that her characters look and act like real people. Often in science fiction I find that the characters are often unreal in their beauty, intelligence, intuition, etc. Butler keeps it real with her characters-they have flaws-real ones-and it increases the feeling they are real and the world they live in is real.
Fledgling is at essence a Vampire novel. With the recent interest in all things Vampire-I should not be surprised to see this novel written by Butler. Yet, I was surprised. In some ways disappointed-which is unfair in a sense. For what the novel is at its base-a story of Vampires-it is very well written and believable. The culture, setting, cause-story of Vampirism as it occurs on this novel resonates as real. If it was written by someone else I would be pretty darn impressed. However, it was written by Butler and I expect more of her. I expect ground breaking from her. This is well and tightly written, but not at all ground breaking. I would still consider Anne Rice to be the Goddess of “ground breaking” Vampire plots. Yet, the plot is pretty well written, semi-driven by what we need to find out for the novel to work-but not forcibly driven, it flows well.
Shori –the main character-wakens in alone, blind, badly hurt and starving in a cave. She is hiding from sun light and seeking food as the novel opens. Eventually she heals enough to find her way out of the cave. She can not remember who she is, what she is or where she comes from. She wanders until she finds a familiar landscape and finds the burned out remains of a community. She can not remember specifics, but she believes this was her home and wonders if others of her community made it out of the fire like she did. Down and out by the destruction of her community, depressed by inability to remember anything about her previous life-even her name-she is wandering by the side of the road when she is picked up by a young man on his way home from work. Wright, a hairy white man of 23 sees what appears to be a 10 yr old black girl wandering aimlessly and picks her up to get her help. In reality, Shori, is a 53 year old Ina and Wright is the one who needs to be seeking help. Shori bites Wright which forms a bond between them and begins to feed on him as well as others in the small rural area he lives in. Eventually she contacts her father and learns her name and then name of her race-Ina. Ina’s are an ancient race of being who form a relationship with humans-the humans are the Ina’s “symbionts”. Symbionts provide blood, companionship and family for Ina’s. Ina’s provide their humans with longer, healthier lives. These types of relationships are a common theme in Butler’s books. Ina’s are the basis for modern Vampire legends. They can not be out in sunlight-it burns them, they survive largely off of human blood, they seduce and bewitch and are able to control the humans they feed off of. The major difference being that the Ina can not reproduce by “making” humans into Ina-in fact it is impossible to do so. Ina’s are born into that race. Shori-is a result of genetic manipulation on the part of her Ina parents. Ina’s are largely Caucasian in appearance-but Shori is black like the human female who contributed to her DNA. She is also a “day-walker” able to stay awake and function during the daylight hours and she represents years of genetic research into improving the dying race of Ina.
A good novel, definitely feels like the first of a series. I found myself surprisingly uncomfortable with idea that Shori looks like a 10 year old girl but is having sex with a 23 year old male during the first 50 pages of the novel. Even when it comes to be known that she is no child-it still felt like molestation. Shori is described as flat-chested and hairless-a molesters wet dream. As a mother it bothered me.

Metallic Love by Tanith Lee

This book is the sequel to Silver Metal Lover. I read Silver Metal Lover a few years ago. It was a sweet, if predictable, love story with a sci fi twist. It raised interesting questions about what defines humanity and can robots develop souls. I liked it quite abit. So, when I saw that a sequal was available I was looking very forward to reading it. First off let me say the book may be a sequel to Silver Metal Lover-but it is a very different tone. No sweet love, no questing robot seeking a soul, no tragic female lover leaving everything he knows to follow her heart and then living with her true love on little more than love in an idyllic romantic setting. Loren-the main female characer and narrator of this book, is no Jane for sure. In fact, I liked Loren a whole lot more than I ever liked Jane. Loren was everything Jane was not-poor, outside of society, no parents, confident-very confident sexually, grounded, realistic-likable in a way Jane never was. Loren is telling this story at the same age that Jane was telling Silver Metal Lover-roughly 16/17. Yet it is almost as if Loren is the adult version of Jane. If that is case with Loren and Jane, I lack words to define the difference between Silver and Verlis. At the end of Silver Metal Lover, Silver is dismantled and Jane approaches her mother-rich influential cruel mother-to get her manuscript about Silver published. Metallic Love takes place 12 years or so later. META has revamped the Robot Lover program-with a few minor changes. Part of the controversey over the original Robot Lover program featuring Silver was that the robots were so complex as to be ale to pass as human. META has gotten rid of that feature, all robots are poreless, flawless, extremely beautiful but not designed to be able to pass as human. They are also more advanced, they can change physical shape, form clothing, jewelry and weapons out of their very flesh. Also, a fourth color has been added-the original silver, gold and copper are back-new to this line of pleasure robots is onyx-black onyx made from the black metal of the asteroid in orbit over earth. Loren's mother was a prositute and when Loren is just a baby she takes her to the orphanage she was raised in and leaves her there to be raised by religious fanatics. One day on kitchen duty Loren discovers a loose floor board in the kitchen area-hidden under the floor board is Jane's Book-the story of Jane and Silvers romance. Loren reads the book over and over until she has it memorized. At the age of 11 Loren runs away from the orphanage and happens into a man who hires her to work in his house cleaning business. Six years later Loren is successful enough to have her own crew working for her. One of the girls on her crew calls her to let her know that the client who's they are cleaning is having a psychotic break. Loren hurries over to save the client and her employees. When she gets there she sees Silver on the screen and a newscast saying that Meta is releasing a new line of metallic pleasure robots. Loren leaves immediately to investigate. Through an odd series of events she ends up Verlis's first lover-his test run before his model is fully launched. What she discovers is that just as she is not Jane, Verlis (the silver robot who has been rebuilt from the original Silver/s body parts and has all of his memories) is not at all Silver. Verlis remembers Silvers' life and especially his "death" and has a plan so that does not happen to him or the rest of the metallic "team".
~~~~Where ever you go, There you are!