<$BlogRSDURL$>

Sunday, March 28, 2004

CALENDAR OF EVENTS AND HOLIDAYS

March -

Saturday, March 20th – First day of Spring
Vernal Equinox - day and night are equal.

April -

Thursday, April 1 - April Fools Day
Origins may be traced back to France 1582, when New Year’s Day was set back three months due to the adoption of the Gregorian calendar. Those who were still celebrating the new year on April 1 were teased and ridiculed as fools.

Sunday, April 4 – Daylight Saving Time begins“Spring Forward” (turn your clocks forward one hour at 2 a.m. Sunday morn.) Thank good ol’ Benjamin Franklin for your loss of sleep (but your gain of sunshine.)

*Daylight Saving Time, for the U.S. and its territories, is NOT observed in Hawaii, American Samoa, Guam, Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, most of the Eastern Time Zone portion of the State of Indiana, and the state of Arizona (not the Navajo Indian Reservation, which does observe).

Sunday, April 4 - Palm Sunday
The Sunday before Easter Sunday, this Christian holy day recalls Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem one week before his crucifixion and the “crowds who "took palm branches and went out to meet him" (John 12:13).

Monday, April 5 – Full moon

Tuesday, April 6 – Passover (Pesach)
8-day observance commemorating the freedom and exodus of the Israelites (Jewish slaves) from Egypt during the reign of the Pharaoh Ramses II.

*Long ago, the Pharaoh had decreed that all Jewish male babies were to be killed because he felt that the Jewish people were becoming too strong. One family sent their baby boy away in a basket, floated on the river (later rescued and named Moses.) As a prophet, Moses fortold the 10 plauges of Egypt, ending in the death of all first born sons (sound familiar?) Doorways that had been marked with lambs blood are “passed over.” After this plague and the death of his son, Pharaoh relented and said that the Jewish people could leave. They gathered up their belongings quickly, and didn't have time for their bread to rise, so they had to bake it and take it the way it was. Thus during Passover, only unleavened bread is eaten (matzo). One of the ways Passover is commemorated is through the seder, a meal involving many symbolic aspects, such as a vegetable (usually parsley) dipped in salt water. The vegetable symbolizes the lowly origins of the Jewish people; the salt water symbolizes the tears shed as a result of our slavery.

Friday, April 9 – Good Friday
The Friday before Easter. A Christian holy day honoring the crucifixion and death of Jesus. The origin of “good” has been lost (may have been “God’s Friday” or good or holy Friday)

Sunday, April 11 – Easter

*Religious Tolerance page on Easter
*Catholic Encyclopedia page on Easter
*BeliefNet page on Eostar (pagan easter)

Easter – Christian celebration of Jesus’s resurrection. Also a pagan celebration of a number of fertility goddesses including Eostre, the Anglo-Saxon goddess of spring. Easter eggs, rabbits, new clothes, the use of flowers, etc., reflect lingering pre-Christian customs celebrating the coming of spring.

May

Tuesday, May 4 – Full moon

Wednesday, May 5 - Cinco de Mayo
Commemorates the victory of the Mexicans over the French army at The Battle Of Puebla in 1862. Not Mexican Independence Day.

Sunday, May 9 – Mother’s Day
Mother's Day was first suggested in 1872 by Julia Ward Howe (writer of the lyrics to the "Battle Hymn of the Republic"). But it was Anna Jarvis, a woman who was never a mother herself, who led the campaign for national recognition of Mother's Day. Jarvis became bitter over the commercialization of the holiday. She filed a lawsuit to stop a 1923 Mother's Day event and was even arrested for disturbing the peace at a mother's convention where white carnations were being sold.

Saturday, May 15 – Armed Forces Day
President Harry S. Truman led the effort to establish a single holiday for citizens to come together and thank our military members for their patriotic service in support of our country. There use to be 5 separate holidays. Army Day, Air Force Day, Coast Guard Day, Navy Day, and Marine Corps Day .

Wednesday, May 26 – Shavuot
A Jewish holiday, called Pentecost in English, that falls seven weeks after Passover. Originally an agricultural event to mark the spring wheat harvest and the bringing of the first ripe fruits to the Temple, the holiday was given new meaning by talmudic rabbis, who suggested, after a close reading of biblical verses, that Torah was given at Sinai on Shavuot.

Sunday, May 30 – Memorial Day
Originally called Decorations Day for the way civil war veterans decorated the graves of their fallen comrades, Memorial Day was declared a federal holiday in 1971. Memorial day not only honors those who have died in the service of the Armed Forces, it is also a time for personal remembrances. The three day weekend is also seen as the gateway to summer.

June

Thursday, June 3 – Full moon

Saturday, June 19 – Summer issue of Belle Lettre!




Saturday, March 20, 2004

Fiction

GUARDRAIL

A gallon of milk can be a formidable weapon, especially when carried in the dominant hand. Kianti Augi found this out in the wee house of April 19. She had no idea where she had gotten the milk, but she was glad she had it when she heard the footsteps behind her. As the plastic jug smashed against the guy’s head, Kianti’s brain, swimming with the aftereffects of alcohol, tobacco, and loud music, tried to recall where the fuck her car was. She had driven the Rexmobile downtown with Nick and Reena and Brook and Progressive Dan, hadn’t she?

Brown milk splooshed over her attacker as the cap popped off, then glugged out onto the pavement. She was surprised to see it was chocolate. As the dairy-soaked figured stumbled backwards with a yell, she turned and ran.

***

“Can you get cancer of the teeth?” Kianti asks, sucking smoke through the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. She thinks she looks a little like Johnny Depp circa “Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas.” Short black hair, dark eyes, a twisted smirk. She has a boyish build except for her tits, which are fuller that she’d like them to be. Too full to go braless without looking like a castoff from Jerry Springer.

Progressive Dan fumbles to work his numb fingers into the pack of cigarettes. He says, “I think nicotine stains your teeth. You can get cancer of the lung, throat, and mouth. Why? Are you scared of the cancer?”
Dan frees the cigarette and lights it from a clear, red lighter he scavenged from the gutter. Progressive Dan is tall, blond, and young, with a vaguely cockatiel-like nose and hairdo. He wears an old undershirt, very thin and worn, under a velvet suit coat.

“Just cancer of the teeth. I have dreams about my teeth falling out,” she answers. “But everything gives you cancer; food, air, cars, success. It all eventually makes your hair fall out.”

“Dreams like that mean you’re afraid to grow old.” Progressive Dan knows all about matters such as dreams and astrology and runes and old gods, as well as guitars. For someone with a face pockmarked with adolescent acne, he has a very old soul.

“Why should I be afraid?” Kianti asks, defensively. “You have to live life like you’re about to die. You have experiences and meet people and try to have fun along the way because at any moment,” she snaps her fingers for effect, “the break lines might snap.”

“I didn’t say it means you’re afraid of death,” Dan says, as Reena approaches from the bar, noticeably absent of drinks.
Reena has a cell phone permanently attached to her ear. She helps herself to one of Progressive Dan’s cigarettes.
“We gotta go,” she says on the exhale. “Brooke is on the phone and she and Nick are at the Mazz.”

As they leave, Kianti asks Charley, the owner of Buddies Bar, to keep an eye out for their mutual ex-friend, Stasia. Kianti needs to talk to Stasia about when the hell she’s going to get her Stones records returned. Heading out into the cold, the threesome piles into the Rexmobile, Kianti’s 1986 Nissan Sentra. Rex was the name she gave to a stray dog in California who jumped into her car and took her on a tour of San Francisco. Kianti’s not in California now, and she isn’t feeling very Zen. Loud loud loud music is blasting old 80s techno so they don’t have to talk. They talk too much as it is. There’s not much else to do in Onami, Ohio or Shawapa, Minnesota or wherever they are. Hell, hu?

“Are you sure you should be driving?” Dan asks as he gulps from the bottle of peppermint schnapps they keep in the glove compartment.

“No. Probably not. But I’ve been driving long enough to know when I personally have had too much, and that’s different than what the state thinks it too much.”

“Try telling that to the cops.”

“No really, I’m fine. I’m buzzed is all.”

The Mazz is a newer place in a crappy part of town, all the crappier since it’s April in the Midwest. It’s a dance club, which pisses Kianti and Dan off a little since they don’t dance, and Kianti doesn’t know the owner, so no free booze. Still, one whole wall is covered with a movie screen showing old Anime and westerns on it, so at least they have something to do.

Reena runs off to find Brook.
Progressive Dan and Kianti sit down at the bar. Dan orders the beer special, Kianti orders tequila shots. Sitting behind the bar is a pile of grocery bags.

“Look at that, someone went shopping before they came to the club. Looks like some good stuff too”

“Why would you go shopping before you go to a club?”

“They’re ours,” says a familiar voice. It’s Brook, and she’ s shaking her head. “Nick thought we’d be out until bar time and then we wouldn’t be able to buy any booze so we walked to the store on our way here.”

“Yeah but isn’t that a gallon of chocolate milk in there?”

She shrugs helplessly. “Yeah, he wanted some, but we both kind of forgot that it would be sitting in a bag at the club until we went home.”

They watch the dance floor for a while, then Kianti turns and watches Dan for a while. He’s not so bad. His Adam’s apple sticks out too far, and some might find his goofy nose and bucky teeth a complete turn off, but he’s somehow able to pull off the geek-boy look pretty well. His arms are lean and muscular, he wears clothes that seem to work with his thinness, and his eyes, when he does flash them at you, are pure cerulean blue.

“Hey Dan, you wanna dance?”

“Har har, get me another drink and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Nick approach and puts his arms around Brook. They’re both very large people and it takes a lot to get them drunk, but he’s obviously invested a great deal into the night.

“Hey you two you look like brothers, “ Nick says, looking over at Kianti and Dan.

“Yeah, but brothers wouldn’t do this,” Kianti says, seizing the moment and Dan’s lapels to plant a big, close-mouthed kiss on his startled lips. He pushes her away with a little more force than Kianti thinks is actually necessary.

“You know what,” says Nick, “That was almost creepy. Hey, speaking of creepy, you still looking for that guy who was selling animal sex pictures over the internet?”

Kianti rolls her eyes. She’s all tangled up in some weird mystery her friend Shannon is trying to solve. Shannon works at the Onami Zoo, which is about the most interesting thing about Shannon. Still, there has been some seriously strange shit going on there lately, and Shannon’s trying to figure it out before any more koalas disappear.

“Why you got something? No wait; tell me tomorrow so I’ll actually remember. I’ll crash at your place.”

The night wears on, and in the end, they all pile into the Rexmobile and head off to Brook and Nick’s house with their bag of booze and chocolate milk. Dan offers to drive but Kianti insists she’s fine, which of course she isn’t and so Dan steals her keys. Dan, however, isn’t much better as they all find out after he banks the Rexmobile off a guardrail.

It’s one of those slow motion moments, where Dan’s head is turned to talk to Reena, who’s in the back seat ignoring Brook and Nick who are making out like rutting deer, and Kianti is trying to tune in a late-night show on college radio, and then suddenly there’s a strange noise on the passenger side of the car. It all dawns on them at the same time that it’s the sound of the guardrail running along the side of the car, holding them all back from tumbling into a barrel roll down the steep embankment. Just as Dan brings the car to a halt by slamming both feet down on the break, the clutch makes a
shuttering jump and the front right tire leaps over the guardrail.

After the assertion that everyone is all right, they sit in silence for a moment. Then Kianti sticks her hand into the grocery bag, which has been flung into her lap, closing her fingers around the first bottle she comes in contact with. She rolls down her window and kind of falls out. Her door is melted shut, the side of the car is a wreck, and the front wheel is blown out. She starts walking away down the road because she doesn’t want her friends to see her throw up.

***

Dan felt sober and horrible. He wrenched open his door and jogged down the road after Kianti.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

Personal Essay

In Love With Jesus
or
How Not To Meet People over 12

There comes a time when a lot of us will (hopefully) fly the coop, leave the nest or otherwise take wing to find our fortune. A lot of us will buy ourselves a lopsided house, take a tolerable job getting up earlier than the worm, and maybe find ourselves a monogamous mate.

But what happens when we don’t have any fine feathered friends?

It is the lament of the modern human: “how can I meet people?” And I’m not talking so much about romantic relationships. So much emphasis is put on the dating scene that friends many times don’t get the attention they deserve.

Many people have friend they can tap from high school or college. But when you move away from home or get married, even the best of school chums can be hard to keep in touch with. On beyond work, where is a bird to find a flock to just hang out with?

Self-help books are full of thoughtful ideas of places to meet people, things to do, and hobbies to explore where “you just might meet someone.” One of these ideas is volunteering. If you have the time, the books state, find something you’re interested in, or take up the torch of a favorite cause. What these books don’t state is that not a lot of non-retirement agers have the time or commitment level to stick with volunteering.

I found this out when I attempted to infuse myself back into the theater world. I was a two-year theater major in college, and it was something I enjoyed, but I didn’t want to do for a living. So, when I moved 750 miles from where I grew up, away from family and friends, I thought volunteering at the local theater was just the thing.

“It’s close to my house,” I thought, “I can even get some exercise biking or walking to the theater.” It was the perfect plan. Volunteer my University skills as a prop builder and set painter, and in exchange, get to meet incredibly interesting alternative theater folk with problems and dreams bigger than my own.

I soon realized this wasn’t exactly how it was going to work when I was introduced to the other volunteers, all of them at least thirty years my senior. I had to put in some hard time behind the candy counter during intermission before I could work behind the scenes on a play. Pouring cokes and selling Mars Bars wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I stepped out onto Broadway, but I hung on long enough to get a gig running the lighting board for a production of The Music Man. Not a very cutting-edge drama, and the job actually consist of hitting a button marked GO seventy times on-cue throughout the performance. Also, as opposed to having martinis after rehearsals with Chaz the cross-dressing costume designer, and the girl with the mismatched eyes who everybody just calls 7, I got to hang out with Jason and Mark.

Jason and Mark were twelve-year-old boys who had yet to be hit with the curse of puberty. They were very into Audio Visual equipment, and they liked to use the word coaxial whenever possible. Needless to say, there were no martinis in Jason and Mark’s immediate futures.

My sister attempted to meet people through another of the self-help writers’ favorite ploys: church. I must admit, the people in my immediate family were never big churchgoers. We tagged along to hear our much more religious neighbors sing on Christmas and Easter in our town’s little white Lutheran Church. So to hear my sister say that she wanted to meet God was a bit surprising.

Still, her story proves just how far we poor souls will go to find someone to talk about the weather with. She looked up the only non-denominational church in the telephone book. What this apparently meant was that it was mainly for the people no real church wanted. “I knew I was in trouble when the first thing they did was put up lyrics on an overhead projector for a song called I’m In Love With Jesus. I can understand loving Jesus, but being in love? Does that even make any sense?

“They had the fire and brimstone preacher, they had the full rock band, they had a lady speaking in tongues. They had it all. At one point,” my wayward sibling said, and I could hear her shaking her head over the phone, “they asked everyone with sinus problems to come up and the preacher blew on them and they fainted!”

Out of respect, she stayed until the service was over (two and a half hours!) She is hopeful that the next church she tries will give her more of what she’s looking for. “But if there’s a rock band, I’m leaving.”

All kidding aside, what all of this boils down to is the fact that you can‘t make yourself happy from the outside in. You can volunteer, go to church, make tons of money, and still not be happy. It’s because you can’t make yourself happy by doing things that other people, society, or the self-help books tell you. You have to decide by yourself what makes you happy.

Part 1 of 4 in an educational series: Election 2004

Electoral College:
The Cliff Notes
or
Once Upon a Time in 2000

The United States is not governed by majority rule. The president is elected by a system of “proportional representation.” Back in 1787 or so, the thirteen United States weren’t very united. The relatively large area was sparsely populated, and there was no reliable way to have every voter know every candidate. There was the fear that every state would vote for their “favorite son” and no candidate would ever win a majority of the votes. Also, the small states would be at a disadvantage. So, using a Roman model, it was decided that the president would be determined by a college of electors.

Now a days, each state has a different number of electors, equal to the number of the state’s members in the House of Representatives (determined by a state’s population) and the states senators (2 per state).
In 1800, the constitution was changed to include the 12th amendment. This amendment stated that if no candidate had a majority in the Electoral College, the House of Representatives would select the president.
Okay, now that we have more or less a two party system, when the presidential election takes place (first Tuesday after the first Monday in November every four years), citizens vote for the person they most want to be president (or in other words, the representative of the party they most support.) The party that receives the most votes in the state gets ALL the electoral votes (in Ohio, 21, in Minnesota, 10.) In the 2000 election, Bush received 246 electoral votes and Gore received 249. The final state, Florida, has 25 electoral votes. It was this final state’s electors and not the majority of the American people, who made Bush president.



A word from S. Morgan, Editor –

“a w a r e n e s s”

Welcome to Belle Lettre. This new free thought / alternative / underground ‘zine offers a nice antipasto plate of artistic material. From articles to short stories and poems to comics, there should be a little something for all.

The basis for all material contained within is the following mission statement:

“ Belle Lettre is committed to creativity, courage, and discovery through action.”

The ‘zine’s “COURAGE” section includes both articles and editorials by people facing their beliefs, forming them, and sharing them with others. It is the belief of Belle Lettre that, in this world, it takes a great deal of courage just to get up in the morning.

Head to the “CREATIVITY” section to escape reality through short fiction, fantasy, and comic strips. Creativity can be as frustrating and messy as democracy, but like freedom, it can be a way to express oneself in the ultimate search for individuality.

“DISCOVERY” leads from courage to creativity. It is the brave who forge ahead and try new things, think new thoughts, and create solutions. Discovery can take you inside yourself, to distance lands, or just down the block for a beer.

I would like to add that this ‘zine is being distributed in hard copy form in both Cleveland, Ohio and the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul Minnesota. Though my coeditor is on sabbatical for this issue and perhaps the next, I hope we will have more submissions from the Land of 10,000+ Lakes in the future. Certain reviews and such may at times apply mainly to one or the other distribution zones. At these times, watch for one of two symbols, representative of public art pieces on view in each city, done by artists Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen :


Minneapolis, St. Paul – Spoon Bridge and Cherry


Cleveland – Free Stamp

Finally, any and everyone is encouraged to submit works to Belle Lettre. For more information on editorial guidelines, or to submit articles, stories, or artwork, write to:

Belle the Cat productions :: 1508 Lincoln Ave. :: Lakewood, OH 44107
Email: goatmaiden@uwalumni.com

Belle Letter – Volume I, Issue 1. March 2004. All material contained within shall remain the property of the creators, copyrighted to them at creation. The opinions expressed in this publication are not necessarily those of the publisher. Readers assume responsibility for actions or decisions they make as a result of reading this publication. Write for submission guidelines Belle the Cat productions 1508 Lincoln Ave. Lakewood, OH 44107, goatmaiden@uwalumni.com or got to the website: www.angelfire.com/folk/bellelettre Submission of articles does not guarantee publication. Belle Lettre reserves the right to edit all material for clarity, length and content. Originals will not be returned without a self addressed, stamped envelope.

:: Belles-let-tres/ bel lettre/ n. writings that are valued for their elegance and aesthetic qualities rather than for any human interest or moral or instructive content, French, literally "fine letters" belletrism, belletrist

:: Belle-lettre/ n. a new 'zine distributed in Cleveland, Ohio and the Twin Cities of Minnesota to fulfill the wanton desires of its editors...

Sunday, March 14, 2004

MISSION
Committed to creativity, courage and discovery through action

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?