?

i am jack's smirking rage. the world laughs at you and you just have to grin and bear it. fade and bear it. this only makes sense in my head...

Burning Glass

like burning glass I hear you smile...

rage in darkness by my side. JM

Lo Hicimos!

Upon reading an article in Bitch Magazine regarding Dora the Explorer and the global industrial economy, I was first unconvinced that to single Dora out among all the various mass-produced children's programming and paraphernalia was appropriate. However, throughout the day I became more convinced that Dora, singularly, speaks to global capital's hold on the US-Mexican border and other Latin American countries. In one episode of Dora the Explorer, she goes on a quest for her missing toy--Osito, the teddy bear. Accompanied by Boots and some wandering estrellas to guide her way, she first comes across what appears to be an ancient Mayan pyramid (We can only assume this because Dora's ethnicity is never revealed) where she solves puzzles to move onto the next location which is revealed as an ancient Mayan city. There, she finds Osito the bear.

Thinking about this episode, I wonder what it would look like if Dora were to go on a "realistic" journey in search of her lost toy. Instead of the ancient pyramid, she would enter the metal doors of a maquiladora in Juarez. Instead of a golden Mayan city, she would see tired and poor workers going home to cardboard houses with no electricity or water after spending 12-16 hours making the very toys she seeks. What lies silent beneath this episode of Dora is the lives and places utilized to make the "Dora Empire" possible. The television children watch Dora on is most likely made in Tijuana, la Capital Mundial de la Television. The Dora toys, shirts, shoes, games, etc. are most likely not made in the United States, probably in Mexico, or Asia where labor is cheap and human rights and regulations are overlooked.

Eventhough Dora is a children's show and is innocent enough, what we fail to notice is what lies behind Dora. There are questions of race, class, gender, and global capitalism. We accept her because she is "multicultural", but really she is a nice and pleasant distraction from the real cultural problems we fail to address.

ddd

The Words

"Words are loaded pistols."--Jean-Paul Sartre

Words that swirl and dive. Words that pinch and sting. Words that warm and comfort. Words that ache and throb. Words that scream and startle. Words that gather on the ceiling and cyclone down over the insomniac mind. The forced hand writes. The black vein bleeds onto paper. The canvas drips with thought. There is always the constant static, perhaps from some nebulous space of time where the muses and daimons hide and transmit muted prophecies that no one hears. Another region of the consciousness where the imagination consumes the ego and freedom is the Words. Where is the artist whose hands paint our future, the writer whose words infuse our being, the musician whose notes stand as emotions frozen in space? In the Words, consumed by the Words, trampled by the Words.

Some of My Photography

Great Photo...

I was recently browsing images for a paper I had been writing and came across this photo. What a perfect cover photo for a queer theology book.

this is how..

this is how it begins

this is how it ends

a running stitch

an open wound

a will that does not bend

this is how it feels

this is how it burns

a letter opened

words unspoken

a mind that does not learn

this is how i cry

this is how i bleed

a needle to the heart

an ache in the head

you are something that i need

this is how it begins

this is how it ends

always running

always waiting

for letters you never send

--EC

I want a pet elephant...

I have been on an animal kick lately...and have decided that I must go to Borneo and find a baby pygmy elephant to bring home and keep in my backyard....

Something to Cheer Us Up...

Currently very stressed, but still finding time to watch Animal Planet in order to remain sane. One of my favorite shows is about a island of Orangutans (I probably did not spell that correctly) which have been rescued from poachers as babies and are going to "school" to learn how to survive in the jungle without their families. The "tangs" are all grown up, but here are some pictures from when they were little "tangs," and they should make you smile...