I just learned that this salute originally accompanied the recitation of my country’s Pledge of Allegiance(!)
The Pledge of Allegiance is an oath of loyalty to the U.S.A., written in 1892 by Francis Bellamy. According to Bellamy’s indications, the pledge also included a salute that consisted of an extended arm with the palm facing upward.
Over time — probably because hard-working Americans were tired from working so damn hard — the palm position changed to face downward.
Around 1942, when the U.S. was in deep shit fighting Nazi Germany, President Franklin D. Roosevelt officially changed the salute to a simple gesture of covering the heart with one hand.
Like most American children, I grew up having to recite the Pledge of Allegiance in school, and it always made me feel icky. I’ve always disliked being forced to participate in the monotonous recitation, in unison, of supposedly important or sacred ideas, whether they be prayers or the Pledge of Allegiance. The mechanical, perfunctory manner of reciting these mantras always seemed to strip them of their importance while making me feel like a sheep, another brick in the wall.
Another thing about the Pledge that always made me uncomfortable was the mention of God. As a kid reasonably educated about my country, I was aware of the separation of Church and State, and so the explicit mention of God in the Pledge definitely seemed uncool. Why the hell were we talking about God in public school? (The reference to God didn’t exist in the original Pledge of Allegiance; it was added in the 1950s, after a Presbyterian minister convinced President Dwight D. Eisenhower to change the Pledge to mention God.)
I can’t remember ever studying in school what the Pledge means. I never understood what it defends exactly, except adherence to a nation as represented by the American flag. These things always aroused my suspicions and made me distrustful of the conformist, authoritarian educational system under which I was brought up.
The Pledge of Allegiance, as it exists today, goes like this:
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
The blog The Legal Satyricon criticizes the use of the word “flag” over “Constitution”, arguing, “We should not fetishize a piece of cloth.”
To better reflect the values of America, The Legal Satyricon suggests changing the Pledge of Allegiance to go like this:
I pledge allegiance to the Republic of the United States of America, and to the Constitution on which it stands.
One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
I can’t figure out which would be more bizarre: to live in a society where marriage is prohibited to only you and others like you, or to have a child as brilliant, mature and conscientious as this kid.
Hats off to the brave 10-year-old Will Phillips and his father Jay for risking their comfort, reputations and personal safety so that everyone can share equally in the American Dream. Across the pond in Spain, where same-sex marriage has been legal for several years, there are plenty of people cheering for you.
If you’re so inclined, please leave Will and his parents a little encouragement in the form of a comment. Since he took his stand for gay rights, Will has been under tremendous pressure from bullying classmates at school, and his parents have said that they show Will positive feedback from blogs as a way to keep up his spirits.
Here’s the latest video from OK Go. No one rocks with available materials better than they do. I’ve always loved their way of going completely against the grain with their labor-extensive, craftsmanlike pieces of art.
Let’s start with their first video, “A Million Ways“. How could 4 normal guys — all non-dancers — take the time to learn all that choreography, and do it all in one take? How many rehearsals did it take? And then, once the camera was set up: how many takes? Imagine the sheer labor that must have gone into making that video, between rehearsals and takes.
When I first saw the “Million Ways” video, I thought, “That was a great video. But what will they do after that?” That video was so great, it reeked of One-Hit Wonder syndrome. There was no way to top a video like that… I thought.
Then they came out with “Here It Goes Again“. I’m not crazy about the song, but the video is what sells it.
And now this latest one: though it’s their most complex, big-production video to date, it’s still true to their signature, artesanal ethic; a technical triumph using ordinary, unscientific household objects to create beautifully useless machines. Stunning… and absolutely entrañable.
Parker is married to the coolest woman in the world. His wife, Holly, lets him film her while she’s crying during movies… which is, basically, all the time.
I can relate. I’m a crier too, though not as extreme as her. For example, sometimes I end up crying when I watch commercials for dog food or baby products. But I would never let someone film me while I was having one of my attacks! I’m not as secure as Holly is.
And in case you were wondering (and I did, initially), NO, she is not mentally unbalanced. She just “really gets into the characters and the relationships”, her husband explains.
They’ve started a whole website around the schtick, called cryingwife.com, where she cries while watching everything from Star Wars to Back to the Future… even Elf! You can even request movies for her to watch/cry at! Check it out.
Okay, today I’ve got a million things to do and I really can’t spend all day talking or arguing about anything important, and I’m gonna prove it with the topic I’ve chosen for today:
I don’t understand the manía (hatred) that some people in this country (Spain) have towards Penelope Cruz. I’m not a huge fan myself, but she’s a good actress, she’s sexy, and she has incredible hair and a culo to die for. (As well as wonderful ta-tas. Are they fake? I haven’t been able to tell; therefore, who cares?)
What’s the big deal? She’s just a movie star. What should she be doing differently? Why do people get so angry when she comes on screen? Their excuse is usually, “Oh, I’m so sick of seeing her,” but I think it goes beyond that. What’s the real reason? Are they mad it isn’t them up there? Or are they angry that it’s not their faces buried in her ta-tas and culo?
Please, let me know. I’ll go first: every time I see Penelope Cruz in a movie, I start to feel horrible about my hair. But that’s as far as it goes. I don’t hate her for it, fer Chrissakes. I just hate my hair. –Okay, and usually the script too, but that’s not her fault.
So I guess this is my plea for sanity: Stop hating Penelope, and start hating yourself. It’s a healthier way to be.
Show de comedia este jueves en el Café-Teatro Llantiol. Sólo quedan una cuantas veladas más, porque después del verano volveré con nuevo show entero. Más info y opción de reservar en la página web del show. Be there or be square, M*thaf*uckers.
There is nothing worse than writing a silly, happy-go-lucky message to connect with an old friend on Facebook, and then, once you’ve been approved, to go to their page and see it filled with messages of bereavement.
This is what happened to me today, when I got in touch with a good friend of mine, comedian Danielle Koenig. Her brother Andrew — an actor, writer, director, and environmental and human rights activist who became famous as a child for the role he played on the ’80s sitcom Growing Pains — committed suicide last week. He was only 41.
I am shocked and devastated at the news. I first met Andrew around the year 2000, when he and Danielle were kind enough to give me a job, collaborating with them on a TV show they were developing at the time. Andrew was an intelligent, kind, sensitive and elegant person who made you feel welcome and at ease. It was very clear that he had tremendous potential to accomplish whatever he wanted in this life. Unfortunately, Andrew also struggled with severe depression. It’s very sad to know that someone with such talent, so much quality as a person, and so much to offer the world, would feel so despondent about his life that he would choose not to continue.
My deepest condolences go out to Danielle, her parents Walter and Judy, and everyone else that loved Andrew. I cannot even begin to imagine what they must be feeling right now. One thing is certain: his family loved him very, very much, and did everything they could to make sure he knew that. They should at least be at peace with that. And I hope Andrew is finally at peace, wherever he is.
I wrote a page on a strange experience I had a few years back in Barcelona. It’s called “This Is Where We Burn the Jews“. Enjoy and comment if you wish.
My old NYC comedy pal Becky Donahue read my last post on the yellow “chinaman” makeup and hepped me to this now legendary incident, which somehow missed my radar when it happened. I don’t know how I could have been so distracted. I must’ve been busy arguing with white Europeans about the existence of racism.
I’ve always liked Harry Connick Jr. — both as an artist and as an individual — but now I have even more respect for him after watching this. Here he is on this cheeseball Australian show — as an American artist whose own musical stylings are largely indebted to the black artists that came before — and he’s forced to witness this atrocity.
Not only does he not hide his disgust, but he uses this shituation as — in his own words — an “opportunity” to do some much-needed edumucatin’ as to why these types of acts are so fucked up. And he couldn’t have done it more elegantly: “I know it was done humorously, but [Americans] have spent so much time trying not to make black people look like buffoons, that when we see something that, we take it really to heart… If I knew that was going to be a part of this show, I definitely wouldn’t have done it.”
So here’s my answer to someone’s earlier question, “If a black mammy costume is racist, why isn’t it racist to dress like a ‘Chinaman’?”
Um, it is. Duh.
I can just imagine the conversations in the packaging department of the makeup factory. “This piss-yellow face paint sucks! Who wants to paint their face yellow, anyway? The good colors are black, white, red and blue. No one’s gonna buy the yellow paint.”
“Hmmm, you’ve got a point. That yellow paint does kinda suck… Let’s see… Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…I’ve GOT it! We’ll put a CHINAMAN on the package!”
“What do you mean, a ‘Chinaman’? A Chinese man?”
“No, I mean a white guy dressed like a Chinaman.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t put a white guy dressed like a Chinaman on the package in this day and age! Shit, you can’t even say “Chinaman” anymore. What century are you living in?”
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