“Facebook is a continuing nightmare of privacy disasters. It’s the bathroom door that resists all efforts at locking, swinging open again and again while you’re trying to poop.”
From: http://www.wired.com/gadgetlab/2013/02/the-return-of-flickr/
(from http://imgur.com/gallery/1Frsq6x)
Ever since I read this article a few days ago, I have been haunted by it. It’s a National Geographic news piece by Jeffrey Bartholet titled “Tibet’s Man on Fire,” and it presents the story of Jamphel Yeshi, one of the many Tibetans who have set themselves on fire in recent years to protest China’s policies on Tibet.
Here he is:
from http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2012/121130-tibet-burning-protest-china-world/
I cannot imagine what it is like to feel so hopeless, so desperate, that it self-immolation seems the only recourse.
In early October, my family visited Washington, D.C., and near the National Zoo we saw some pro-Tibet protesters. They didn’t look Tibetan but looked like aging white hippies. This small group (of four adults and two kids) marched up and down the street, chanting, “What do we want? Free Tibet! When do we want it? Now!”
I don’t doubt their sincerity, but honestly, this was a pretty pathetic demonstration. There was no intent to educate or engage anyone. They seemed to be working on the assumption that “everyone already knows about what’s happening in Tibet.”
The problem is that most people don’t know what’s happening in Tibet. There’s an awareness that the Chinese government claims sovereignty over Tibet, and many Tibetans (and others throughout the world) believe that Tibet should be an independent state.
But there’s more to it than that. And I think the Tibetans who are burning themselves to death over the past couple of years are doing because they want the world to take a closer look at what’s happening there–and maybe do something about it. Self-immolation makes the news, both in text and and in pictures. It gets attention.
Earlier this week the director of Free Tibet published an opinion piece on CNN.com that describes some of the oppression Tibetans face at the hands of the Chinese government. This is the sort of information those Washington, D.C., protesters should be trying to spread. Chants are great for rallying supporters but useless as education.
The first snowfall of the season arrived two mornings ago. Just what we needed to ease into the Christmas season after a pretty warm autumn.
I’ve been wanting to knit myself an Owls sweater ever since I first saw it, and over the past few months I’ve done it! My friend Gina was also keen to knit one of these, so we decided to do our own little knitalong. She finished hers in about a week, but mine took a bit longer.
I actually knit this sweater twice. (Fortunately, bulky-weight yarn knits up fast! First, I knit both arms using the size 10.5 needles the pattern specified. When they were done, I decided I didn’t like how snug they were and reknit them on 11 needles.
Then I knit the body, moving the shaping from the back to the sides. (This was Gina’s great idea. We agreed that the shaping lines in the middle of the back just looked weird.) I was about five rows away from binding off when I ran out of yarn. ARGH! This turned out to be a good thing, though, because it gave me an opportunity to reknit the body. It turned out that I wasn’t such a fan of the shaping. A yarn this substantial works best (for me, at least) in a looser garment.
Taking another cue from Gina, who had found the as-called-for-in-the-pattern neckline too wide, I added a few rows of stockinette (with decreases) between the owls and the ribbing. The result is wide enough not to feel constricting but not so wide that it’s calling off my shoulders.
The knitting on this sweater was complete about two weeks before the “official” finish date. I bound off the last stitches the day before cool autumn weather arrived and just had to start wearing the sweater immediately. I thought about omitting the button eyes entirely, but after two weeks of living with sightless owls I decided to go ahead and add the buttons. I did one set of eyes in tawny yellow (to make it stand out from the crowd) and the rest in an amber color. The contrast isn’t huge, but it’s enough–and well worth the couple of hours it took me to sew on thirty-six buttons.
This was a fun knit, and I’d make it again. Maybe next time I’ll turn it into a cardigan!
(Additional project details are available here.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about this poor, neglected blog lately, and half-writing blogs posts in my head. I’m not sure when I’ll get around to writing them, though, since I’m busy these days with various work assignments (and as a freelancer, I take work assignments whenever I can get them). So rather than let this space languish even longer, I’m doing this quick post to shake some of the dust off this blog and jot down some brief thoughts.
I’ve come to the conclusion that handwriting is good for us. It involves us in a relationship with the written word that is sensuous, immediate and individual. It opens our personality out to the world, and gives us a means of reading other people. It gives pleasure when you communicate with it.
I love writing things by hand but don’t do it nearly as often as I’d like. Google Calendar is optimal for family scheduling and organization, but I do miss having a hard-copy datebook with handwritten items in it. I still write letters by hand to a number of people, though, and keep a handwritten grocery shopping list.
From time to time I contact my elected officials to let them know my opinion on certain issues. Usually this takes place via a website or e-mail, and often I am asked to select a category for my communication as well as provide additional information about myself.
One of my U.S. senators, Bob Casey, requests a salutation. The default selection in the drop-down menu is a blank.
The other of my U.S. senators, Pat Toomey, also requests a salutation. The default selection in the drop-down menu is “Mr.”
What do you make of that?
This reddit post has been making the rounds over the past few days, but it’s so awesome that I have to post it anyway, in case you haven’t seen it before now.
My 8 year old daughter’s unexpected response to a writing assignment about being female…
Wishing: For a sundial like this one to put in my yard.
Laughing: About this video on YouTube, which features one joke from every MST3K episode. My recent discovery of this is well-timed: just a few weeks ago I met Joel at an MST3K event and got to shake his hand.
Reflecting: On the hidden costs of chocolate.
Being delighted: 
By the fact that not only was my daughter thrilled with the new socks I just finished knitting for her, but she was so pleased that she wore them right away. Even though it was 95 degrees outside. Now that’s gratifying!
Watching: Or trying to watch, at least, My Dinner with Andre. It’s famous and there are a gazillion cultural references to it, so I figured I ought to (finally!) watch the thing. I got about forty-five minutes into it and had to turn it off. I recognize that it was innovative for its time, and the premise could still make for a good movie today. But the conversation itself was so mind-numbingly dull that I just couldn’t bear it.
Reading: Nation, by Terry Pratchett. It took me a little while to get into this book–most likely because my subconscious kept expecting Discworld fare–but once that happened I was hooked. The premise is somewhat grim, and the overall tone is decidedly lacking in the humor of his other works. But his usual themes are present: questions about religion and rationality, criticisms of social class, clever wordsmithery.
I hate the ending, though. Long before it arrived its inevitability was apparent, and I found myself reading the last chapters while hoping Pratchett would enable the protagonists find a way to escape the destinies that seem to be laid out before them. No such luck, I’m afraid. The ending is bittersweet and leaves me feeling punched in the gut…but honestly, I can’t imagine how else the book could have ended without ruining it. So for all that I do hate the ending, at the same time I think it’s appropriate.
