A recent article in The New York Times describes Ugandan efforts to make homosexuality punishable with hanging. The shocking thing about the news, indeed the point of the article, was that a year ago three American evangelical Christians had spoken to Ugandans about the threat of homosexuality. In so doing, they had helped fan the flames of the anti-gay fervor in Uganda. I was disgusted and horrified when I read the article. Something about Americans being involved, however tenuously, in such an egregious act of persecution made the Ugandan efforts seem much closer to home. It was appalling to think that such intense hatred could spread to the United States, could in fact originate in the United States.
But the more I think about it, the more I believe that attempts to legalize the hanging of homosexuals in Uganda should shock the conscience of the United States, and of the world, whether or not Americans encouraged the attempts. The bottom line is that Uganda is trying to blatantly persecute an entire group of people, and this action threatens not only homosexuals everywhere, but heterosexuals too. Because when the rights of one are violated, the rights of all are compromised.
i found this pretty dope blog entry on my now new fav blog: amassblog.com
i’mma re-copy and paste it for your pleasure:
i receive lots of emails asking about paul rand. it seems many people want to know what it was like to have him as a teacher, or how many rand-designed items i have. like so many of his students, i have my own personal stories to tell. after leaving yale, I kept in touch with him and tried to visit often. the videos you see on youtube—or the interview with steve jobs about working with him—give a pretty accurate picture of what he was like. my association with him has engendered many stories. here is one. i once had the pleasure of interviewing withpeter arnell. this was in 1993 when he was still working with donna karan and i was an art director at bergdorf’s. (you may not know, but when apple did the “think different” campaign and chose paul rand as one of the featured artists, it was peter arnell’s photo they used. i have always disliked that he made money from that.) anyway, i walked into arnell’s office and sat down. he did not open my portfolio. he held up my resume and read it aloud. “so, you went to yale?” he asked. “i did,” i replied. “it doesn’t bother you that i went to princeton and my partner went to columbia?” “no,” i said, “not everyone gets into yale.” (i already figured I wasn’t getting the job.) “so you studied with paul rand?” ”i did.” “would he remember you?” “um, i guess. i would like to hope so.” at this point he yelled out to his assistant, “can you get paul rand on the phone?” ok. there is a first time for everything. the only thing going through my mind was what mr. rand could possibly say. and what if he didn’t remember me? although i was pretty sure he would. arnell put the phone on speaker and we listened together as it rang over and over. arnell was watching me the whole time. i remember this as if it were yesterday. finally the answering machine came on. arnell hung up without leaving a message. i wasn’t especially relieved, mostly just perplexed. what would he have asked him? we then proceeded to discuss rand and his work. what i liked about it, etc. the rest of the interview was pretty uneventful. for my follow-up to the interview, i sent arnell one of my prize rand books, “leaved canceled,” a book he designed in 1945 for knopf. i included a note of thanks and mentioned our shared enthusiasm for mr. rand. my southern roots expected some sort of response. it never came. mr rand touched many people, even someone like peter arnell. mr. rand’s business card sits framed on my shelf, like so many other things he designed. enjoy.
fyi: for privacy reasons the phone number was left incomplete
The problem is that there are several different lessons from the Great Depression. They are confusing when we conflate them. Especially in the US, the Great Depression is usually identified with the stock market crash of 1929. Economists have two simple macro-economic policy answers to that kind of collapse. The first is the lesson that John Maynard Keynes already taught in the 1930s – in the face of a collapse in private demand, there is a need for new public sector demand or for fiscal activism.
The second is the lesson above all drawn by Milton Friedman and Anna Schwartz in the 1960s. In their view, the Depression was the result of the Fed’s policy failure in the aftermath of 1929. There was a massive monetary contraction, which was responsible for the severity of the downturn. In the future, central banks should commit themselves to providing extra liquidity in such cases.
A 1931-type event requires micro-economic restructuring, not macro-economic stimulus and liquidity provision. It cannot be imposed from above by an all-wise planner but requires many businesses and individuals to change behaviour. The improvement of regulation, while a good idea, is better suited to avoiding future crises than dealing with a catastrophe that has already occurred.
The turn of the year is generally a reflective time for me; and I’ve probably got more than usual to reflect on … though not yet for sharing …
Tony took me out to Cité, a 70th floor restaurant, for dinner (the tasteful sparkles above were scattered on our tablecloth), then we came home, watched the 8.15 fireworks (so thoughtful of Chicago to have an early sitting of New Year for those of us who’re no longer night owls …), watched an old Miss Marple, and went to bed … my perfect Hogmanay!
Today the plan had been to go out for a walk; but, despite the sunshine, it’s minus 12-ish out there … so we’ll maybe just sit indoors and watch the lake freeze over instead (below).
I have done my share of traveling in my 46 years and I am always amazed at how in different parts of the world the book of hours changes so radically….. and no, I am not speaking about the Catholic book of prayers….. This morning, as I took my dog, Lolita, out for our walk around 8AM I was not surprised to see people in the street coming back from celebrating New Year’s Eve, it happens on weekends too…. only the date was just different. In other parts of the world, 8:00AM is normally quite quiet, but not here in Spain. Many places begin to open at midnight and it is around 4:00 or 5:00 AM that the party really gets started….. At midnight, I was out on my deck seeing the incredible display of fireworks lighting the city and trying to take pictures with my phone as I could not find my camera and did not want to miss it. It did not matter where I looked, lights were everywhere and the joy could be felt in the air…… Spain is a vibrant country, the collective feelings of the country can be felt and seen no matter what part of Spain I am in……..
Were I in the United States, I recall the shouts of joy coming from the neighbor’s homes and teenagers driving around shouting ‘Happy New Year’…. Were in Mexico, I recall from my youth, loud music, firecrackers, cherry bombs blowing up in metal trash cans, laughter and occasionally a few shots fired into the air from somewhere nearby…… God forbade us from a lost bullet!…. By 3:00AM, the stillness began to crawl back into the city……. and all was quiet…….. just around 4:30AM…… too late for drunks and too early for decent people…. a lovely hour to go outside in my robe, take a deep breath of the crisp air and look at the stars…… and for just a few moments, dream…… and hold the world as it belonged to me……. the breeze moving the tree branches, the sky which seemed I could pierce with my fingers, the occasional tomcat or a far away dog barking at some imaginary ghost.
In the quietness of the park, with a cold wind on my back, I kept a close eye on Lolita as she played…. people were hurrying to their homes after a night of celebrating, many of them with the silly look of drunkenness.. yes, the one that makes women think they are the center of attention and men irresistible… from the early morning cup of coffee perspective, it is quite funny to see actually…..crossing the threshold can make us do and say funny things but then again there are a few – like in every part of the world- who are aggressive, mean, belligerent and nasty…… A very nice looking older gentleman, obviously on his way somewhere was being harassed by a young man who was yelling, kicking whatever crossed his path and taking the trash bags out of the bins in the park spreading the garbage with his kicks…. Not a good way to either end his celebration, nor to start his new year and a new decade….. Yet, gratefully the spectacle was broken by a group of young people returning home singing and laughing still filled with the joy of celebrating a new day, a new year, a new decade… friendship, family, life……. I could not help but smile and become a part of their jovial happiness.
Ten years ago, I was in mid thirties wearing a size 6 dress and thinking I was fat. I had a 13 year old girl who skateboarded ….mortified she had acne. I had an 11 year old boy who still participated in the school’s talent show singing songs from some pop music boy group. I was constantly calling my psychotherapist with some existential crisis, I was longing to travel, trying to figure out who I was, had so much to prove…. would hide my smoking from my husband by spraying perfume in my mouth -French mind you-….. I would get upset and drive down to the mall calling the saleswoman at Sak’s Fifth Avenue or Ann Taylor to put something together for me because I had an important meeting to attend to -whether I did or not, its irrelevant-, baked cookies and treats for my children, was into preparing extravagant meals for my family and of course, feeling I could take on the world……..
A decade later……… I am back to a size 6 not because of a diet, but the stresses I have put my body under and not everything is where it was, but I have grown to love my body, my wrinkles, my gray hairs and yes the passing of time. Now, I have an extraordinary young woman for a daughter. One that amazes me with her beauty, growth and self-assurance. I have a son who has taught me more than I could ever learn on my own about the power of change and a very talented DJ who has me dancing to the beat of Drum and Bass music. I do not call my psychotherapist anymore except to say ‘hi, how are you doing?’ just to stay in touch -I am still as crazy as I ever was- I have travelled, figured out who I was on my own, done more than I thought I wanted to do.. no longer hide my smoking but still wear French perfume. I no longer shop at those expensive stores for I am quite comfortable with the look I have developed on my own and not what fashion dictates and as for meetings? I stick to my 12 step ones…… the other ones for whatever reason…. unless they are with people I really enjoy around, I do not care much for……
In the decade gone by, I lost my father, my grandfather, my grandmother, my father in law, my mother in law, my sister-in-law, my best friend and a few others…….yet, I gained a beautiful man in my daughter’s life, a loving supportive woman in my son’s life, nephews, my faith, and a glimpse into the wisdom imparted to me by many who crossed my path…. In the decade that begins now….. grandchildren are coming my way, new stories will be woven, new adventures undertaken and dreams that might or might not come true……. In the decade that now begins, I stand here at the threshold looking with excitement at what awaits me ahead……………. and I cannot wait to take the first step.
