Monthly Archives: February 2011

goodness, humor, life

The sound of patriotism

The United States has the greatest national anthem in the world.  It’s a bold anthem which, instead of ending with a strong statement of our worth, wonders if it was all worth it.  I especially appreciate no mention of a god (which is somewhat unusual in modern national anthems) because anthems are for and about the people, not their religious beliefs.

The US national anthem is not just your typical, “bless this land, which is ours by the way, and it’s it pretty?”  It’s a challenge to future generations to be as unified and courageous as its past generations.

I love that it questions its citizens.  “Does that symbol for which we fought and died still represent something for which another generation would fight with equal valiance?”

O say, can you see by the dawn’s early light
what so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming,
whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star spangled banner yet wave
o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Now let’s have a look at a few other national anthems for contrast.  Let’s start with our neighbor to the north, Canada (which I can sing from memory, oddly).

O, Canada, our home and native land,
true patriot love from all your sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
our true north, strong and free.
From far and wide, O Canada,
we stand on guard for thee.
God, keep our land glorious and free
O, Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O, Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

All I can say about this national anthem is that it assumes a lot.  Against whom do they stand on guard?  Who are these people that are so ready to invade Canada that the entire populace must reaffirm their dedication to its defense?  Plus, I’m pretty sure most other countries are asking god for help in their anthems, too, so don’t hold your breath, Canada.

Next is France!  With one of the most recognizable melodies in the world, France’s national anthem is also one of the most bloody due to its origins: the French Revolution!

The French national anthem is long as hell, so after the whole first verse and chorus I’ll just pull out a few of my favorite parts to give you an idea of what it’s like:

Arise, children of the Fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us, tyranny’s
Bloody banner is raised, (repeat)
Do you hear, in the countryside,
The howling of those ferocious soldiers?
They’re coming right into your arms
To slit the throats of your sons and consorts!
Chorus:

To arms, citizens, form your battalions,
Let’s march, let’s march!
Let impure blood water our furrows!

Yikes!  Using the blood of the enemy to water your crops?  That’s fucking metal.  What a picture to paint, all of it!  So brutal.

It goes on to include gems like this:

Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What fury it must arouse!
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

Hey, they’re trying to make us slaves again!  Fuck that!  Get angry, you French people!

Tremble, tyrants and you traitors…
…Everyone is a soldier to combat you.

…as long as they’ve retained their right to bear arms.  But seriously, I picture farmers rushing a line of fully armed invaders with their pick axes and back hoes.  Pretty great.

The last verse might be the best for its evocative sense of honor.

We shall enter in the (military) career
When our elders are no longer there,
There we shall find their dust
And the trace of their virtues (repeat)
Much less jealous to survive them
Than to share their coffins,
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or following them.

Ok, so the French are giving us a run for our money in the “World’s Best National Anthem” contest.  Theirs is pretty fuckin’ awesome.  But minus points for length.  Or whatever.

Oooo-kay, I just had a look at the full lyrics of the British national anthem, God Save the Queen.  It’s about as good as it sounds.  Lots of divine evocation, no mention of the citizenry, super dull.  But the lyrics used to include another verse (for a very short time):

May he sedition hush,
and like a torrent rush,
rebellious Scots to crush,
God save the King.

Haha, oh no!  Not the Scots!  Leave them be, King George II!  Bad king, no!

Japan.  Wow.  Leave it to Japan to make me feel stupid.  What a pretty anthem.  Very short and pretty, but not a whole lot to say.  Tough to inspire the citizenry to take up arms to defend their country with such an understated, slowly paced song.  But that’s so Japanese, lol.

May your reign
Continue for a thousand, eight thousand generations,
Until the pebbles
Grow into boulders
Lush with moss.

Touché, Japan.  Touché.

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badness, humor

I fall out of love with Rubio’s

This weekend was a shit show for me health-wise.  I’d been sick all week.  Saturday I covered for another sensei, then sped up town to see a therapist with Sister re: mom.  I stopped at the Rubio’s near my apartment (which I have on speed dial), picked up my usual order (shrimp burrito), and ate on my way to the appointment.  About twenty seconds after I get in my car to head home after the meeting, things started getting shifty toward my mid-section.  Apparently that shrimp burrito was disagreeing with my stomach, and my stomach was disagreeing right back.

without warning, the shrimp laid waste to my esophagal lining

Back home, Diminutive Roommate was busy cleaning up and making a mess.  She had 30 Rock on, and doted on me as my condition worsened.  After a couple episodes of Liz pretending she was pregnant and Kenneth talking about turtles, it was time.  Time to hurl.

Then it was time to feel sorry for myself, and self-medicate with some Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Musical episode!  Cooler than I expected!  New favorite character: Spike.  Stomach getting spewly again, take some Pepto Bismol.  Not as gross as I remember.  Awesome.  Text Karate Boss that I won’t be in tomorrow.  I feel a little better.

Too much stimulation.  Lie down.  Feel worse.  Hurl again, furiously.  Break into a sweat, peel off layers.  Go back to bed.  Sleep for two hours.  Wake up feeling shitty.  Where the fuck is Boyfriend.  Someone should be touching my head and cooing.

Diminutive Roommate pops her head in to let me know she and her date are going to a nearby Indian place I like.  I graciously decline: “Wow, that sounds just awful.  Thanks though, have fun.”

More Buffy.  Giles, don’t go!  Again!  Back to bed without sleep.  Boyfriend FINALLY shows up.  I fake sleep at first, then decide softly moaning is the best way to make him feel guilty for having dinner with an old friend he hasn’t seen in five years.  It totally works.  Lots of cooing and hair stroking ensue.  I feel a little better.

I fucking love pumpkins

He drives us to the Japanese market/food court nearby.  I get my favorite: breaded pumpkin, soy sauce on the side, just $2!  Delicious.  Boyfriend gets kontatsu (breaded pork) on rice with curry.  Smells gross.  I make a face.

In the parking lot, we sit in the car for a little while.  The sun feels so nice, I wish we could stay there, but I can tell Boyfriend is bored and I would get sunburned.  Boyfriend drives us home.  He takes the good way (no speed bumps).  Good job, Boyfriend.

Back to bed without changing clothes.  Boyfriend sets up laptop with headphones to catch up with me on Buffy.  Watches musical episode and loves it (of course), then episode where everyone forgets who they are.  Hilarious.  We laugh.  I sleep until 1am, and find Boyfriend still up.  Demand he goes to sleep.  Very grumpy.  Strip, get water, then back to sleep.  Forget to turn off alarm.

Wake up to alarm next morning (fuck).  Can’t get back to sleep.  Lie still, and try to ignore stomach.  Still being disagreeable, but no hurling so far.  Feeling optimistic about recovery and totally exhausted.  Think about little mice warriors for about an hour (re-reading Mouse Guard, so fucking cute).  Drink water, stay in bed all day.  Snap to attention at 3:02pm.  “Boyfriend!  Puppy Bowl!”  It’s Super Bowl Sunday, but who cares; the Puppy Bowl is on at 3 on Animal Planet.  We watch highlights online.  More adorable than predicted.  Kitten halftime show is a mess.  I feel a little better.

Four o’clock: Time to head over to friend’s house for birthday dinner.  Lie on couch and watch friend play Mass Effect 2.  Supercool female characters with awesome ninja abilities totally distracts me from squirly intestines.  Win!

Nine o’clock: Time for dinner.  Home made fried chicken, corn and carrots, garlic bread, macaroni and cheese.  I wash a bunch of dishes to feel useful.  Eat two pieces of chicken, half a corn on the cob, and some mac n’ cheese.  Astounded by my stomach’s agreement with said foods.

1045: Time to go home, but Boyfriend wants to stay and play Super Street Fighter IV.  Ballerina Friend volunteers!  We live close to each other anyway.  Boyfriend says he’ll be home soon.  I tell him to stop lying and have fun.

1120: Grumpy.  We head out and have a fun chat in the car.  Ballerina Friend is so nice.

Sleep.

3am: Boyfriend comes home.  I make fun of him as well as I can in my sickened, sleepy stupor.  Do a pretty good job.

721: Alarm goes off.  Hit snooze five or so times.  Get to work late.  No one seems to mind.  Food poisoning seems to get you out of any and all obligations.  Win!

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badness, humor, work

Stay away from my compy, blue hair

My boss has a company credit card that she uses very responsibly and sparsely.  In order to get approval for her purchases, she has to use this online system where she scans the receipts, attaches them to blahblahblah, it’s actually pretty streamline once you get it.

She asked me to help her do this recently, so I sat down in front of a program I had never once used or heard of, and figured it out.  We got it done, and we did it right.  Regardless, she wanted us to really master the program, so she and I went to a small seminar on how to use this program.  We found some seats, and a gray-haired woman stepped to the podium.  As the overhead projector flickered to life, I could feel my confidence in the seminar draining away.  What would this woman teach me that she hadn’t been taught by someone my age or younger?  I scanned the room for said youth and lo and behold, a young woman around my age sat two rows back from the front, anxiously watching the older woman (apparently her boss) fumble with switches and knobs to get the light at the podium to turn off.

I remember now what it’s like to sit through a boring lecture from an instructor so out of touch with her audience that she doesn’t understand the questions being asked.  Throughout the presentation, the young woman would quickly interject a clarification that cut straight to the point on a topic the lecturer couldn’t seem to stop hovering around and just land on.  The older woman spoke slowly (like we were children), and paused now and then to let some useless piece of information sink in, like, “You won’t be able to get to this page.  I have administration access, I can get here.  So can Lauren here.  So it’ll look different for you, because you don’t have the same level access as me… [long pause].”  She repeated herself several times (unnecessarily), she did not answer the questions I asked about site security, and had no examples set up to demonstrate how to actually  use the program we had attended the seminar to learn.

Toward the end of the presentation she remembered a few things she had forgotten to mention, and threw a bunch of unsequenced, seemingly important tidbits of info at us without visuals.  “Oh wait, I forgot.  You’re going to have to hit the Save button before you hit the Approve button or the pdf won’t stay attached.”  Three hands flew up.  What Save button?  “Oh, you can’t see it because I’ve already done this one.”  What Approve button?  “The one at the bottom of the page.”  A new hand goes up.  What page?  “The last one.  The one where we attached the pdf.”  Could you show us?  “[sigh] Uh, sure, lemme just… find… one…”

A few highlights:
“You’ll get an email with a link to the receipt.  [pause]  It’s like the little flag on your mailbox going up.”
“You see how these are shaped?  They look like folders, right?  Think of it like you have a bunch of folders on your desk.”
“When you scan your receipts, name them something that works for you so you remember what it is.”
“So that’s maybe new for those of you who have never scanned something before.”

Ok, so that last one might actually be legitimate, but I’ve been scanning shit since high school.  How have any of the people at this seminar not used a scanner before?

Young people: take charge.  You should be doing this kind of presentation, in half the time, with about a thousand percent more clarity for the audience.  I have nothing against old people, but my generation was raised with computers, so our brains are structured to understand how they function.  Anyone born before 1980 is just at a natural disadvantage.

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