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[onbeatbot]

This week I’m reading Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

[onbeatbot]

Theory V Theory

Bakunin balks at Marxs proposed scheme to empower the proletariat and rid societies of the evils of class. Marx is concerned with the process of commodification of the worker and how workers lose their spirit to abusive employers and the wealthy oppressor class. Bakunin logically reasons that men of superior intellect, such as Marx and the communists, are inclined to exaggerate their knowledge and depreciate everyone else’s, and are therefore likely to become tyrants in power, because their reality is so drastically different from that of those they would have authority over. Bakunin emphasizes education to a T. No body of leadership can be fair, he reasons, because a body of leadership has authority, and human authority over humans is unnatural. Both Bakunin and Marx are concerned with the dehumanization of the lower classes, but Bakunin insists that Marxs theory is counterproductive because it fights fire with fire.

https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/bakunin/works/1873/statism-anarchy.htm

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This meme depicts a faceless cartoon-y character with its limbs knotted up, standing unsteadily on the ground. The loving character represents how difficult it is to fully comprehend the meaning of Christian Aestheticism. Why does something stemming from a revolutionary artistic and intellectual movement have negative connotations? How does emphasis on beauty encourage violence? Vox Populi, Vox Dei translates to “The voice of the people is the voice of god.” Fundamentally, this is an anarchist ideal. The validity of human law is null and void in light of nature’s laws. Bakunin says the scientific method is reflected in the real world as a societal shift towards types of organization that most accurately reflect life. Government will inevitably become what religion already has become: an old, man-made structure that goes to violent means to retain the power it has been granted by the people. Religion results in Christian Aestheticism, where intellectuals and artists support aesthetic values over socio-political themes. This aestheticism complements capitalism, because it promotes class (and therefore ignorance and oppression), and leads to utilitarianism, where the human populus is heartless and mindless. Aestheticism encourages pure beauty and aims to please visual and emotional senses. These elements cannot satiate the human intellect, but they are pleasing distractions. Capitalism pits the individual against society. Goldman says the individual is the heart of society; the lungs being society itself (supplying the life materials or elements experienced by the individual). Society shapes the individual, so a poison society, where domination is the key essence of form and function, poisons individuals. Positivism and statism imply that society requires domination. Domination is not sustainable according to nature’s laws. All of the three forms of domination defined by Weber lean on some faith in rule and man-made law. If liberty was a primary concern of a nation, that nation would foster a healthy symbiotic relationship between society and the individual by halting domination and building a society from the bottom up, as anarchism aims to do. This requires halting class, which cannot be done when nihilistic religious mentalities are employed via wealthy, aesthetically oriented organizations. Positivism claims that scientific evidence and empirical study are the only effective ways to study how societies work. Metaphysicians, Bakunin writes, value science as a powerful god, and theory as set guidelines that may encompass life, as opposed to manifestations or indicators of different forms of life (natural, social…). This allows for justification and longevity of terrible historical themes such as slavery and apartheid. Systematization of society boils down to statism, a political system where the state has centralized control over social and economic affairs. Statism reflects life by demonstrating the toxic futility and dreadful repercussions of class. Wealthy oppressors tend to use aesthetics for advertising. Aesthetics can be used to silence populations that need to be given a voice to catalyze change. In conclusion, starvation of the human intellect such as that which occurs in caste systems or societies that utilize domination makes way for larger class divides and human suffering.

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The two components of dynamic density discussed by Durkheim are the number of people in society, and the amount of interaction between those people, meaning how connected they are. Of course, Durkheim could not have predicted that the internet would eventually give most people on Earth the ability to interact with anyone but how does this fit into Durkheim’s theory, that an increase in dynamic density would propel all mechanical solidarity societies into organic solidarity societies? Does the introduction of the internet help prove or disprove his theory? Consider that currently not everyone on the planet is able to get internet access. Basically, talk to me about the internet, globalization, and dynamic density/Durkheim. 

The internet is a recent technological advance. Computers are connected to each other and the Web via the internet. Individuals and groups are able to quickly share information, and geographical distance no longer isolates people and places to the extent it once did. Durkheim reasoned that increased population and increased interpersonal interaction work in tandem to increase specialization and differentiation until a society that once functioned because everyone was the same (e.g. a line of magnetic gears on a refrigerator will all spin if you turn one) now functions because everyone is different (e.g. a watch functions because its internal and external parts work together). 

Durkheim could not have foreseen the internet’s ability to connect people and create new communities globally, so it is necessary to reconsider his understanding of a “population.” Internet communities can become exponentially massive in a half hour, so in the modern day, we can basically consider the first criteria for dynamic density met. Despite the isolation of people in many less-developed countries, that threshold is behind us.

The internet can connect an individual to vast amounts of knowledge. Those who are motivated to learn and connect can climb social and intellectual ladders from the comfort of their bedroom. Those who do not view their computer as this supernatural key still exist on and with the Web, seeing themself through the eyes of a crush, family member, coworker, or anonymous observer, and letting various applications help their efficiency. Physical interpersonal interaction has become some fraction of a person’s social life. The internet creates barriers and eliminates others, and each person navigates life with this tech companion. By building identity online, humans increase differentiation globally.

Though mechanical solidarity is still present, it cannot remain indefinitely in light of individualism and the erosion of the power of collective consciousness. The introduction of the internet supports Durkheim’s theory of dynamic density, because it widens gaps between people via global connectivity. The more a person learns and communicates, the more they are able to know themself -independent of and as a cog within- their social circles.

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To theorize is loosely defined by the text as speculation, so, to theorize about the social world is to think about phenomena, social issues, or injustice one may observe or experience. Social theory done by social theorists is disciplined, utilizes a thoroughly studied canon of sociological thought, relies on extensive, systematically collected data, and seeks to share findings for critical analysis and validation. Professional sociological study does not directly involve personal relationships. However, social theorists are often inspired by personal experience. For example, du Bois wrote about racism from the perspective of an educated black man experiencing life in the US at the turn of the 18th century. Race, religion, policy, discrimination, customs, culture, behavior, education, family, sexuality, and geography are a few topics that can be socially theorized about. In this broad scope, the value of argument and abstract thought comes to light. 

The text notes that the filter of information that resulted in our current sociological canon, and/or the canon Ritzer and Stepnisky studied prior to authoring this textbook (The first edition being published in 1995), is subject to temporal bias, among other flaws (e.g. favoring white male sociologists, clearly testable hypotheses, or work reflecting certain political views). The author’s choice to use the word “complained” when writing about feminist and minority female sociological theorists seems to be an acknowledgement of personal bias. The word choice is dismissive. The authors are also acknowledging the lengths minorities had to take to be heard by an exclusive or discriminatory majority of white males in the field.

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Durkheim’s discussion of social facts has been somewhat criticized by other theorists for being limited in his definition of what should be included as a social fact. Is his definition still applicable, even today? Does it meet the criteria for social theory discussed in the first chapter in that it is widely applicable? If not, what would you add to his definition to make it more encompassing? Basically, we're not arguing if social facts exist--tell me how you might update his definition/why.

Durkheim wrote about social facts to encourage empirical study of social phenomena, which he observed to be collective habits that society gives permanence to via replication. He theorized that social facts and social currents are natural ingrained aspects of life, fixed or unfixed ways of acting, that go unnoticed until you try to stray from them. He reasons that our political organizations cannot be understood by physical or geographical observation alone, but by study of law. Trends of architecture, fashion, migration, and commerce are unavoidable; they are prescribed by currents of communication. His definition is vague in order to be widely applicable. Patterns that appear in human systems are diverse, and may present relevant information or insight. They must be studied somehow.

Indeed, empirical study of social facts has been taken off our hands to some extent. Robust computers constantly analyze political and economic data to make predictions for various parties. The phrase “social fact” feels limiting, because we lack many of the boundaries cordoning people, communities, and societies that Durkheim would have been familiar with in the modern day. Technological advances, mass communication, and globalization make the theory imperative to the present day.

[onbeatbot]

Be able to contrast Darnton’s ( 1990) mommy wars between working and nonworking mothers with Hays interview findings.

Be able to discuss what Hochschild (1989) describes as the “supermom”

Be able to compare and contrast the decline of the family: conservative, liberal, and feminist views

In Darnton’s (1990) “mommy wars,” stay at home moms and working moms are pitted against each other in a scene that implies they possess conflicting priorities and view one another as unwise, careless, or lesser-than. Stay at home moms are focused on their child’s upbringing and provide quality time and emotional stability to the home, while working moms appear to value themselves over their children and sacrifice valuable time with their young children for the sake of their careers. These are black and white presumptions made in response to shifting family structures. As evidenced by Sharon Hay’s interviews, both stay at home moms and working moms align themselves with the value of intensive mothering. Working moms express concern that they do not give enough time to their children, and stay at home moms suffer emotionally from the isolation and dreary day-to-day routine of caretaking. They are less able to use their intellect, and to make lasting connections with other adults. It appears that many mothers who work, either by necessity or choice, are benefited by exercising duality, and those able to afford quality childcare offer social and developmental enrichment to their children that stay at home moms will not be able to provide with trips to the park in modern times.

Hochschild’s (1989) description of the “supermom” as a strong, feminine, confident, upwardly mobile, and fully capable employee and mother rings with retouched magazine superficiality. She is well dressed, she respects herself, and she is respected by those around her. She has overcome the ambivalence and contradictions presented about motherhood and the functions of a “good mom.” She fulfills her duties without breaking stride, or messing up her hairdo; all with a happy child on her hip. 

Conservatives, liberals, and feminists have differing analyses and main points of interest regarding the decline of the family that has occured in the US from the 1950’s to the present. To conservatives, restoration of the traditional two parent family is the primary solution to poverty, and related issues of mental illness, violence, teen pregnancy, school failure, obesity, and drug use that children and adolescents seemed to face increasingly in the 1990’s. Absence of a father is cited as a primary concern, and federal welfare programs are understood to enable careless procreation. From this viewpoint, lower class single mothers are lecherous. 

Feminists examine the influence of government programs differently, because other countries have used social policy effectively to combat the aforementioned issues. Countries that ensure economic support (e.g. work guarantees), child care, health care, and housing subsidies for all families, not just the poorest of the poor, are faring well. Providing resources to single parent families and changing the American woman’s stunted earning power would mean improvement. To feminists, a claim that marriage and strong father figures would improve the divide of poverty is nearsighted. Feminists and conservatives agree that strong community-encouraging social institutions (e.g. religion) are necessary to provide support and foundations to families of all classes and ethnicities. Cooperation between families and employers is needed. Lotte Bailyn (1994) suggests that young couples would benefit from trading off full time work, so that the roles of each parent are more even. Rather than forcing old trends and labels, feminists push for institutional reorganization that explicitly values parents and children.

The liberal view offers an explanation that is relatable and straightforward. Due to shifting economic structure, family roles have been unsettled, resulting in material poverty for the poor, and time poverty for the middle class. Liberals agree that poverty is a cause of marital breakdown, not an effect. Men with a high-school education are not able to find employment now as when manufacturing jobs were ample (~1970 and earlier), and often are not eager or fit for marriage and family life. Policy addressing both types of poverty is a viable solution, and one that the US indeed pushes, if not enough. Liberals highlight measures such as providing training and jobs to impoverished parents, other economic and child support, altering tax law to discourage martial splitting, and encouraging employers to grant flexibility to working parents.

[onbeatbot]

Discuss effect of three landmark issues; The Defense of Marriage Act, United States v. Windsor (570 U.S. ___ 2013); and Obergefell v. Hodges

Prior to 1996, LGBT couples and communities fought a losing battle against courts in many states. On the rare occasion that gay couples that were granted marriage licenses, they faced denial elsewhere, as in the case of Richard Adams and Tony Sullivan. The county clerk in Boulder, CO, allowed 6 gay couples to marry. Adams hoped to sponsor Sullivan, an Australian, for immigration. This petition resulted in a 1982 federal court ruling that CO law only recognized heterosexual marriage (2015). On September 21, 1996, President Bill Clinton signed the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA). DOMA mandated that same-sex couples cannot be afforded federal marriage benefits, such as social security widow, surviving child, or spousal benefits, sale of principle residence allowances (sizable tax penalty for same-sex couples), estate tax provisions, joint tax returns, health benefits taxes, all military benefits, medical flex spending accounts, COBRA health benefits, the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA), and inherited retirement accounts (Naylor and Haulsee 2014). Same-sex couples were not granted rights to visit hospitals or nursing homes, make end-of-life choices, or donate organs, nor were they granted the right to make funeral arrangements. These rights were not expressly denied, but decision-making was left to the medical institution. This law of unequal treatment of LGBT couples denied them 1,138+ protections and responsibilities of marriage at the federal level, and validated prejudice in state courts (2014). The year 2000 brought civil union status to Vermont state law, as well as an ammendment to the Nebraska state constitution prohibiting recognition of any family status of same sex couples (2015). The Nebraska motion was mirrored in 27 other states in years following.

Around 2010, opposition against same sex marriage became the less popular opinion, with over 10% increases in support apparent in each generation (2017). This upwards shift of public opinion occurred across political and religious affiliation, gender, and race. The United Nations Human Rights Council passed the “Ending Violence Based on Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity” resolution in 2011 (Naylor and Haulsee 2014). This was the first U.N. effort to begin a discussion on LGBT rights. In May of 2012, President Barack Obama became the first president to publicly announce support for marriage freedom for same-sex couples. In June 2013, U.S. v. Windsor resulted in the milestone U.S. Supreme Court decision to extend equal protection and equal treatment under the law to Americans in same-sex marriages. It was ruled that Section 3 of DOMA is unconstitutional under the Fifth Amendment, whose Due Process Clause states that no one will be “deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law”. The U.S. v. Windsor decision granted 1,100+ federal benefits, rights, and priviledges to gay couples. As of 2014, 33 anti-LGBT state legislatures, such as Tennessee, retained an unequal distribution of benefits (e.g. estate and inheritance tax and limited medical rights and decisions)(2014).

In 2015, 14 states retained a gay marriage ban. Of these, Ohio, Michigan, Kentucky, and Tennessee were sued by groups of same-sex couples in a challenge of the constitutionality of those states anti-LGBT policy. Plaintiffs argued that state statutes violated the Equal Protection Clause and Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, with one bringing claims under the Civil Rights Act. On the 2 year anniversary of U.S. v. Windsor, the 5-4 majority opinion of the U.S. Supreme Court held that the Fourteenth Amendment does indeed guarantee the right to marry as a fundamental liberty. This right is not exclusive to heterosexual couples. Barlow writes that Obergefell v. Hodges “capped years of debate and legal zigzagging” (2015) in ruling that same-sex couples had the right to marry in every state, and that all states must realize same-sex marriages in other states. Neither U.S. v. Windsor nor Obergefell v. Hodges calls for religious institutions to sacrifice their First Amendment freedom to choose not to sanctify same-sex marriages.

References

Barlow, Rich. 2015. “The Impact of the Supreme Court Same-Sex Marriage Decision.” BU Today. Boston, Massachusetts. Retrieved February 4, 2020 (http://www.bu.edu/articles/2015/supreme-court-gay-marriage-decision-2015/)

“Changing Attitudes on Gay Marriage” 2017. Pew Research Center. 

“History and Timeline of the Freedom to Marry in the United States” 2015. Freedom to Marry, Inc. New York, NY.

Naylor, Lorenda, and Haulsee, J. 2014. “Equal Treatment Under the Law: A Cost-Benefit Analysis of Same-Sex Benefits Post-Windsor” JHHSA 208-221.

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How will our aging population change our families and social trends? 

As modern US faces the social and economic upheaval of the 3rd and 4th industrial revolutions, racial and ethnic diversity is increasing rapidly, and Boomer and Silent generation populations are in steady decline. Although 95% of US women and 96% of US men have married at least once by age 75, acceptability of singlehood is increasing, as is the amount of people living alone in developed regions (a majority of which are female) (Davis 2020). Social and economic conditions result in smaller families, as class systems are based on the family (Crimmins 2015; Skolnick and Skolnick 2014). More than half of mothers with children under 3 are working, and 83% of one-parent families are headed by mothers (UNStats 2000). This statistic varies by ethnicity. In 2003, 23% of women with a birth in the last year were below the poverty level, a majority of which being married mothers in the West and South (ACS 2003). Poverty, diversity, and shifting gender roles result in variations in child socialization, as well as the resources allocated to the elderly.

The modern US is rapidly becoming more multicultural. As the Hispanic population climbs, so does the percentage of Hispanic households (US Census 2010). There will be a dramatic increase in the frail elderly Hispanic population between now and 2040 (Crimmins 2015). Membership of a family is nearly inherent to an individual’s personhood. This amplifies the function of diversity because people carry and communicate their unique history, culture, and ideals as they go to school, work, church, etc. 

There were nearly 15 million more older adult (over 65) householders than young adult householders (under 30) in 2014 (US Census 2014). The average number of people per household has stagnated as the number of total households grows (US Census 2014). Median age at first marriage increased from 20-22 in the mid 1990’s to 25-26 in 2000 (Rember-Rindfuss 2000). Later marriages result in declining birth rates, as unassisted fertility for people over 40 is unlikely (Davis 2020). Marriage and divorce rates were in steady decline between 1990 and 2010, with a growing education gap (college educated individuals are more likely to marry) between 1990 and 2015 (US Census 2010; Parker and Stepler 2017). The aging population will eventually mean more divorcees and widowed singles, both of whom are less happy and carry higher mortality rates than marrieds, though widowed singles are less so than divorcees (Davis 2020).

Globalization and the technological revolution mean confusion and isolation for some. Those who fail to socialize digitally and make connections in person, or who lack a suitable partner due to negative perception of marriage, are more likely to be alone, or never-married, a charactaristic that often means increased depression, decreased health, alcoholism, and suicide (Davis 2020). 

There is a decrease in the working age population, which generally supports the growing older population (Crimmins 2014). Higher percentages of the elderly will be divorced or never married, and lacking caregivers (Crimmins 2014). Additionally, educated women are less available to fill the caretaker role (Crimmins 2014). These social trends will cause disability rates to have greater impact. US policy must be adjusted with these conditions in mind if the elderly population are to be cared for (Crimmins 2014).

Ours is a society has developed dramatically over the past 20 years, and the change results in some improvement to traditional social problems (eg women's rights, LGBTQ+ rights). The passing of older generations means a greater number of adults have embraced the results of the sexual revolution, womens movement, and gay liberation movement. Thus, there is an increase in nontraditional and nonfamily households (US Census 2010). Still, in 2010, 87% of households fell into three categories: the householder, his or her spouse, and his or her children (Davis 2020). 

Partly due to the shifting values of changing time, the family institution remains important in socialization of children who will go on to discover that familial rights and obligations are interwoven in most, if not all, societal structures. The importance of the family is newly defined as time progresses. The nature and network of modern families in the US is representative of our society. It is important that we adapt to our shifting demographics.

No citation, sorry 

[onbeatbot]

Injury

The Palma residence is my favorite aspect of summer. In the lonely heat of southern Arizona, it is easy to lose yourself to time. This is especially true if you are a transplant, which I am, one who resides in the 14th ward of Oimech (budget housing) in a studio unit of one of about 50 closely packed tenement towers that stretch into the clouds, all identical, each just topping 2000 feet. So, you can imagine the appeal of the tiny, white, one story house, which is nestled with 20 or 30 other 30’s style cuboid residences on the western edge of Oimech’s bustling business district. 

The 200 mile trip here from home means a daunting 60 minute subway commute, but babysitting is the only work I have between April and July, so I make it over by 5:45 every Tuesday when Ms. Chu leaves for her weekly yoga class. She will be back at exactly 8:10. Ms. Chu is a single mother nearing 50, and a neurotic homebody, but she has a strange, commanding poise. Her kids, Mono and Callie, are surprisingly well-adjusted, but do not meet the mirroring standards of the Arizona public school system. Both of them have rapidly filled each inch of intellectual growing room from the moment of conception, and so have surpassed or failed to reach this and that developmental benchmark that would have allowed them to join their respective age groups in Standard Learning. I love Mono and Callie, if not for their energy, for the unique characteristics that set them apart from the other children I watch as a licensed caretaker, and from the students I meet as a math tutor during the school season. And, of course, their house.

A block from their street, I press the stop button on my armrest and exit the subway car, pushing past the waiting area and up the stairs into the dry air. Rounding the corner of their grey street, I instinctively look at the right side window of the house, where I meet Callie’s eyes, causing her to jump away. She opens the front door, calling my name, “Rebecca!” I hustle to meet her with a hug.

“Where’s little Mono?”

She smiles, “Aw, he’s still sleeping.” 

“At this hour?” I reply with mock surprise, but Callie is already bored of the exchange, and has run to lay on her back in front of the TV, which is playing Nat Geo on mute. Ms. Chu exits her bedroom, one of two in the 2BR/1BA, and embraces me. “I’ll be back shortly, Rebecca,” she is always visibly glad to see me, “Callie has big plans for you this evening. I know you two will have a good time.” She gets her phone from the kitchen counter and with a warm, pointed glare at Callie, then me, she nods and departs.

I sit on the white sofa and put my feet on top of Callie as if she were an ottoman. She doesn’t move, but tells the TV to turn the volume on low. On the screen divers are swimming slowly near a bleached stretch of coral reef. The narrator is explaining that a certain species of shark inhabits this area, and the divers aim to tag them because their population is greatly depleted, threatened by pollution. Callie begins to fidget, pulling and twisting her short brown hair. She is a restless 7 year old. She is afraid to go outdoors, and so is very pale. This used to worry me, but I gave up those thoughts because I am not her Mother. That took some time. 

When the commercials come on, Callie silences the TV and I stand up to check on Mono. Their bedroom is at the end of a white hallway to the left of the living area. Everything in the house is white. Somehow the sparse, modern decor augments the comfort of the small home. It is hard for me to wrap my head around. I crack the door, and see that Mono is buried and unmoving on his twin sized pallet beneath a pile of comforters and throw blankets. “How long has he been out?” I ask Callie, loudly. 

“Since about 9AM.” 

“Goodness.”

“Yeah,” she walks up behind me, “and he finished the Cheerios.”

“I can’t say that surprises me,” he only eats Cheerios.

Callie spins me around by my waist so that I’m facing her. “Rebecca,” she says to me with a blank expression, “We have to bake a cake.”

That is just fine with me, “OK. Do you have cake mix?”

“We’re making it from scratch,” she replies, ��the only thing we are missing is salted butter.”

“And Cheerios.”

She smiles, “Yes. And Cheerios.”

There is an auto supermarket right around the corner, a large, bright green box with a cashier’s window and a pickup station. You have to order everything you need before you get there, as machinery inside sorts through thousands of items, rapidly picking out items on your list, and the list after yours, and the list after that. I sometimes wonder what it looks like inside an auto supermarket. Very few people make contact with the guts of automated businesses and services, as repairs are ordered and executed by robotic equipment that’s all included on the inside. It would probably be anticlimactic to peek at the inside. It is most likely grey upon grey, like most things in the city.

I toss Callie my phone so she can place our order. “Pay cash?” she asks. 

“You know it.” Very few people keep physical money around. I myself certainly do not, but I enjoy interacting with cashiers, and so keep my card handy.

I head out; it is only about a 15 minute walk round trip. The wide sidewalks and seamless streets do not present a single soul other than myself. The sun is setting, and the sky is painted with purple and peachy hues. I arrive at the green wall, and step cheerfully to the cashier’s window. She is in her early 20’s, about my age. She is an expressionless type, which is a let down, though I understand. She scans my card, “You know nobody really carries their card with them,” she says as she returns it to me. “Yes.” I don’t know what else to say. She hands me a paper bag, and I walk, less leisurely, back to the Palma’s.

Callie is not at the window when I approach the house. This is off, as I know she would be done preparing the dry ingredients by now. My heartbeat quickens and I knock on the door with five hard raps. Thirty seconds pass without a sound, and I dig my phone from my pocket to pull up my key. I step in and call Callie’s name. I walk to the kitchen in the back of the room to see the ingredients set out neatly, as I expected. “Callie?” I call again, throwing the grocery bag on the counter. The oven is preheated. Something feels very wrong.

I rush to the kid’s bedroom to find it just as it had been. I knock on the bathroom door and open it without waiting for a response. To my great relief, Callie is sitting on the floor surrounded by what looks like Band-Aid wrappers. 

“What the hell, Callie.”

She looks at me, slightly wounded, “I said I’m in here,” she wrinkles her nose for a second, “Sorry.” Taking a deep breath, I survey the bathroom.

“It’s OK, you just scared me,” there isn’t a drop of blood to be seen, “What happened?” 

“It was the weirdest thing!” Her tone brightens, “As I was measuring the flour, a yellow jacket flew out of the bag and stung me,” she presents me her arm, which sports an asterisk of at least 6 Band-Aids arranged over the same spot.

“Ah,” I choke back laughter, “I see.”

“How was your trip?” She asks me, picking up the trash from the floor.

“Just fine. Got everything we need.”

It is now 6:45. I help Callie to her feet and we return to the kitchen. 

[onbeatbot]

Blitz and Bunoo

I was adopted by a beautiful woman with bits of streamer and tape in her hair. A woman of commanding stature and gentle voice, she spoke in apologetic tones to the staff; she’d forgotten to bring treats, or a comfortable carrier, for that matter. Didn’t bother me, as I’d begun to figure that my age and the mottled colors in my fur made it unlikely that I’d find a home. The last thing I saw before being lowered into an unpleasantly cramped cardboard box was her hopeful grin.

It wasn’t long before I was let out of the box. The woman was there, and in the dim light a digital clock read 5 PM. She cut a length of ribbon from a spool on her dresser and tied the soft satin in a bow around my neck.  She disappeared for a moment, and a chorus of excited children rose in the next room.

“Blitz,” she opened the door, “I got you a new friend for your present this year.”

Blitz stepped around her mother, a couple kids looked on from behind her (some on tiptoe, as she’s very tall). Her jaw dropped. “He’s yellow!” she exclaimed, “He’s wonderful!” How nice! I twitch my nose, flattered. She sat on the floor in front of me and I walked up to assess her with a sniff. She had a smudge of mayonnaise on her cheek, but she smelled like berries. With one finger she scratched my head, and her expression twisted thoughtfully. “What’s his name?” She asked her mom. “You tell me!” the woman smiled with the delight of someone who has given a just right gift.

“I think I’ll call him Bunoo.”

I spent the weekend exploring my new surroundings, and playing with Blitz and her family. I often wished I had opposable thumbs to grasp the controller, so I could join when she played video games with her brothers. I also wished I was able to speak her language, so we could converse about the movies she watched. But I was content with the abundance of affection I received, and I exhausted my instincts chasing toys. I loved to climb to the top of their family’s stereo to observe as she seamlessly defeated boss after boss of each game she received for her birthday.

Blitz looked up to me after one such boss, “I’m not just good at video games, you know.” Of course I knew that! “You know why I’m nicknamed Blitz?” She straightened to a posture of confidence. “I am a mean match in a snowball fight. My real name is Beth, but only my closest friends call me that,” she hesitated, grimacing, “and my mom, when I’m in trouble.”

The school week began, and Blitz spent the afternoons busy with homework. Biology and literature seemed to fascinate her, but the algebra was often so difficult she became frustrated to tears. After dinner, her dad usually brought a wooden box from the closet, which contained a checkered board and interestingly shaped plastic figures. These pieces he’d set in rows on the board, and for hours he and Blitz would sit across from one another with their brows furrowed, moving the pieces in a slow dance. I learned this behavior is called “chess.”

Unlike Blitz and her family, I am nocturnal. This makes the night long and boring. Some evenings, the chess set was neglected on the table, and I mimicked the gameplay I observed, playing as both white and black. I also pawed books down from a shelf in the living room, looking at the pictures and characters to pass the time. In a while, I became proficient at both reading and chess, and I wanted for naught.

As the weather grew colder, Blitz was increasingly disheartened with her algebra homework. She would leave it out to review before she left for school in the mornings, and I began to study her notes while the family slept. I discovered that I was able to recreate the numbers and symbols on paper holding a pencil in my teeth, and slowly grew to understand the various formulas and equations. One particular Monday, Blitz cried herself to sleep over such an equation, and I took it upon myself to complete it for her, as I hated her distress. She packed her book sack the next morning without noticing, and came home beaming; she had received an A on the assignment! I began to complete the more difficult problems for her, and as she realized she had an anonymous helper, her effort declined.

The next Thursday, Blitz did not glance twice at her homework. A traveling fair was in town, and she tied her boots in an excited frenzy, planning to walk there with friends that lived down the block. “Hang on, Blitz,” her mother stopped her as she made to bolt out the door, “you didn’t finish your work.” The fact stung, “No, Mom, listen, it’s simple algebra,” she explained uneasily, “It’s busy work, you see, I could do it in my sleep.”

Her mom frowned, “Don’t you have a test on this tomorrow? Have you studied?”

“Oh, yeah!” Blitz’s unease grew, “and I’ll study more tonight, and complete the work, but everyone’s leaving for the fair now. I don’t wanna miss them.”

I watched thoughtfully from the corner of their comfy sofa as Blitz’s mom put her hands up, “Ok,” she said, “Whatever you say.” The wise woman and I both knew there was a chance Blitz hadn’t meant what she said, and when Blitz returned, she was tired, and full of bright lights and sensational sounds. The kid went straight to sleep, forgetting her responsibility.

What harm could come from a little help? I wasn’t sure, and that night, I took care of the homework for her.

Blitz was not beaming when she stepped out of the bus after school on Friday. She told her mom that she hadn’t passed the test. In fact, she’d gotten an F, and her mother took away her Nintendo. Finally, it occurred to me that my homework assistance was not assistance at all, but a mode of cheating. Unintentional cheating, but cheating nonetheless! Feeling very lousy, I contemplated; how could I repair this damage, this gap in Blitz’s progress that I filled?

I came to a solution. That night, I took pencil and paper in my mouth and hopped on top of Blitz as she laid in bed. She hadn’t fallen asleep yet, but was startled out of her wits, and knocked me into the air as she jumped into a defensive karate pose. Regaining my composure and retrieving my materials, I jumped to her desk and began to demonstrate how I’d helped her all those months. Her eyes widened. “What the world, Bunoo!” She whispered, aghast, “I knew you were smarter than an average cat, but, Bunoo! It was you finishing my homework?” To me, that was beside the point now. With my gaze and a nod towards the paper, I commanded her to take a seat.

For hours each night we practiced algebra by lamplight. I showed her the types of problems she struggled with, and the steps she consistently skipped, or messed up. I drew examples, and scratched the work that needed to be done over. She became more mindful of her process, and rapidly improved. The joy of having an understanding tutor outweighed the thrill of my novelty, and she was about as shocked with my intelligence as I was hers.

Blitz aced her midterm, and the semester came to a chilly close. 

[onbeatbot]

Worth

quartz, the only common

silicate of only Si and O

not so unlike myself 

SiO2

and every other person

[onbeatbot]

When my clothes get stained I dye them black.

FADE IN: 

Index card no. 5 pictured. 

CUT TO: 

EXT. BUDGET PIZZA SHOP- SUNSET 

A neon open sign in the door of BUDGET PIZZA SHOP flickers to life. 

An air of safety. A faceless stranger smokes a spliff, leaning against the window. In two drags it is ashed-gone, and the stranger drops the filter to the pavement, leaving a smudge on the glass as they walk away. 

INSERT: 

TITLE CARD:WHEN MY CLOTHES GET STAINED I DYE THEM BLACK CUT TO: 

INT. BUDGET PIZZA SHOP- EVENING 

Glassy eyed X (19) sweeps flour around the white tile floor of BUDGET PIZZA SHOP. BOSS (30) speaks indiscernibly on the store phone. 

A dirty computer screen mounted to the wall and flanked by ceiling-high stacks of pizza boxes begins flashing erratically. 

X (V.O.) En la tienda, aparece un pedido en la pantalla del ordenador. 

BOSS grunts, handing the delivery slip in the direction of X. 

X (V.O.) (CONT’D) Mi jefe me da el recibo de entrega. 

X walks towards a heating shelf, looking over the slip and receipts. 

X (V.O.) (CONT’D) Bajo el pedido del estante de la calefacción y lo reviso para asegurarme que los productos están correctos. 

Ze puts the pizzas into a branded green hot-bag. 

X (V.O.) (CONT'D) Salgo caminando hacia el calor. 

EXT. PARKING LOT- CONTINUOUS 

X fastens the bagged pizzas to a panel on the back of hir MOTORBIKE. 

X (V.O.) Me resulta difícil sujetar el pedido de entrega a mi moto, pero no me lleva más de un minuto aproximadamente. 

Shivers run through X's square frame as a shot of wind scores hir spine. Ze pulls the slip from hir pocket, squinting at the address (333 33rd) as ze mounts hir bike. 

X (V.O.) (CONT’D) Ya que estoy familiarizado con esta ruta, no necesito un mapa, 

Ze knocks up the kickstand. 

X (V.O.) (CONT’D) pero visualizo los caminos serpenteantes en mi mente. 

Ze puts on a helmet. 

X (V.O.) (CONT’D) Ahora es el momento de irse. 

X speeds out of the lot. 

EXT. EN ROUTE- CONTINUOUS 

The roads are empty save for the occasional time slick sportscar and 15 MPH meandering scrap heap. Passing through residential area, X glares at a pair of eyes glowing towards her underneath plaid valance. Ze often catches them looking. 

Focus on the run. 

A woman walking to the right of the street makes a splinter of a second of eye contact with X. X is shocked by malice in the woman's eyes, and hits a pothole, jumping off hir bike as it skids onto the sidewalk. Picking up hir bike and checking the pizzas, X sees that the woman dropped a wallet in the grass. Ze pockets it immediately and returns to the street. 

Entering THE BUSINESS DISTRICT, X vrrs haphazardly now through narrow streets. Ze buries hirself in guilt for taking the wallet, and hir belly moves into hir lung. How pitiful ze believes hirself to be. Light from gas stations and bars fills X through hir clothes and packs the visor of hir helmet, spilling into hir brain. Ze flips the visor up. Tension mounts as a wall of eyes looks at hir from the windows of a hotel. 

EXT. DINER PARKING LOT- CONTINUOUS 

X pulls into the empty and brightly lit parking lot of a diner at the corner of 33rd and (?). Ze removes hir helmet. 

X (V.O.) Cuando llegue a la calle, debo aparcar mi moto en el estacionamiento de un resturante económico al final de la calle. 

As ze walks to the entrance of the apartments at 333 33rd, a man sitting on the pavement asks if ze can spare any change. Ze looks at the beggar in fear and slips inside without speaking to him. 

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING- CONTINUOUS 

X takes the elevator to the ninth floor of the 15 story apartment. The walls move in slightly and water begins filling the elevator from cracks at its ceiling. Light in the elevator trembles and goes out as the doors open. The hallway stretches and shrinks slow like rubber molasses. 

X holds the pizza bag by a strap on its underside. 

X (V.O.) El botón del timbre cuelga ligeramente suelto del panel. Lo presiono una vez, 

X presses the doorbell to the wall. As always, ze is scared. 

X (V.O.) (CONT’D) pero golpeo la puerta después de esperar un momento. 

X knocks. The door opens slowly and a little kid in a baseball cap hands hir $25 for the $21.50 order. Ze is surprised and does not thank him, but thrusts the boxes into his arms. The moment he closes the door, the lights in the hallway brighten and water spilled from the elevator disappears. 

X returns to the elevator. 

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING- CONTINUOUS 

From the sidewalk, through the glass at the front of the apartment, we see a small screen beside the elevator counting down from 9. 

The night feels peaceful now, but the beggar remains curled up on the sidewalk. The lighting and decor inside the building look natural. Safe. 

It hits 1. 

CUT TO BLACK. 

[onbeatbot]

SKYSK*

Back when I was in middle school, a cool, sunny Saturday followed a week-long November downpour. After checking the news (nothing had happened that day), I decided to venture to the skate park to try out a few of the clean grey slopes. A beginner; I had yet to land a basic kick flip, and it was a fine day for some practice.

A moderate crowd of all sorts and skill levels of skaters milled (and wheeled) about. I skated to a raised area at the far end where a treacherous seeming bowl is nestled away from the commotion. My routine is to pick a decent spot from this vantage point and ride there from the hill. The bowl was empty- only the boss skaters use it. I was getting my bearings when I heard a faint call above me, a warning. Startled, I went back down and looked up in time to watch an unidentifiable figure shoot straight from the clouds, into the bowl, and back up again.

It was way too small to be a person. What kind of animal can shout, skate, and fly? I was baffled, and I went back up to see if I might catch a better glimpse. I expected another hurtling holler, but after a few minutes a kid clutching a skateboard descended slowly, landing next to me, upright. “Whoa, no way,” I whispered.

He stuck out his hand, wrist pad equipped, “Eli, it’s a pleasure, Miss…?”

“Whoa. My name is Marcy, but, um… that wasn’t you skating the bowl from the sky, was it?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he was only a head and a half shorter than me, “Do you skate here too?”

“Lately. I’m just learning, though.” He smiled and told me that was excellent. Deciding I wasn’t dreaming, I asked, “How are you not a puddle at the bottom of the bowl?”

“Well, I’ve been skating since I was 5 so I have lots of practice with it,” he was nonchalant. I determined not to ask any further.

“My friends call me Marmalade, by the way.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, Marmalade.”

“Likewise.”

He suggested we skate the ground-level bowl together a while. I followed its diameter, momentum from the slopes propelling me back and forth, while Eli raced laps around me and landed a few sick tricks. We didn’t run into each other once, he didn’t even come near enough to throw me off.

Then, sitting with our legs dangling from the rim, we talked a while. Even Eli did not understand why he had this ability. One day, after years of practice, he took off. He told me of a parallel park, a couple thousand feet above us. “You wouldn’t think you’d be able to skate on suspended water in the air. I mean, I looked it up,” he didn’t seem to speak of it much, “It must be in cumulonimbus or cumulus clouds; otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to breathe.” He clarified, “Way too high up to be stratus, though.”

“I wish I could see it,” I had a realization, “Are there other people who can skate up there?” If I got good enough, would I be able to skate the sky too?

“Well,” he tilted his head, “that’s sort of the thing. You can only really see a short distance in front of you, and the wheels don’t make noise like they do on concrete. Sometimes I think I hear a shout, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“What?”

I realized he probably couldn’t fall, anyway, “Skating blind.”

“Good point,” he explained that he’d learned this park like the back of his hand ages before he ascended, so it was motor memory. The sun was setting, and he excused himself, saying his Mom usually expects him home for dinner around now.

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

“If the weather’s good, yeah.”

After that, we met and skated nearly every day. With Eli as friend, teacher, and inspiration, my rate of improvement boosted exponentially. He gradually got more comfortable leaving, at intervals, to skate above, and I could tell it was more fun for him up there. The years passed and we became fast friends. I became a pro, but I never neared his level.

Abruptly, he stopped coming. Eli wouldn’t desert without giving me a heads up; I worried something might have happened, but he was tough, and smart, too. As I missed my buddy more and more, I began to go to the park rain or shine. I’d spend as much time as I could skating, in hopes he would come around. Months passed.

I was diligent, but spring was dreary that year. And then, while skating the half pipe near the end of May, I took off into the troposphere.

It was hard to see, just as Eli said. I surveyed the park in the clouds, and the wet white air glowed faintly. After a while, I returned to the half pipe, pausing to catch my breath. A sudden disruption to the still caught my attention: a blurred dot was rocketing towards me from above. “Marmalade!” Eli’s call was reminiscent of a missile! He skated into the pipe, made to do an unidentifiable trick, and jumped off his board before landing, clobbering me in a hug. “You made it,” he was grinning from ear to ear, “About time!”

[onbeatbot]

Ride

My car did not break down. I don’t know what happened to it, but as I was making my way to New Orleans on I10 things went black abruptly and now I'm in the grass on the side of the road. It is about 2 AM, which is late for me to be out but I was disquieted at a friends house by some things in my head, and needed to leave. So now I am here in the dark about 20 minutes from the causeway. The grass is dry and my hands begin to itch, so I stand up.

I should be panicked that my car is lost-gone God knows where-but I’m not. That is just like me. I spent last year making a quilt of intangible reality and I haven’t had the energy to consider most things since. Like my car, this is besides the point. The point right now is getting down the interstate and making it home so I can eat some Cool Whip and get in bed. 

I have my phone here but I’m in debt really bad and there probably isn’t any service to call a taxi or whatever anyway. I just turn on my flashlight, sticking my hand in the direction of the road, and walk.

The night is cool and my mouth still tastes like citrus energy drink. I am so goddamn tired. Too often I find myself misplaced on a whim. I’m really careless like that. But hey, I’m dressed warmly.

After the third or fourth car flashes by I lose heart and turn off the light. The moon has shone herself underneath the crawling clouds, and in the blue night I find it hard not to buckle underneath the irony and the mystery of my predicament. Laughter has always been the chink in my armor. I shrug to myself and access the wall of vegetation to my right. The moonlight plays on the bushes and tree trunks and there is a violent wave of cicada hum. Some presence behind the thicket attracts my attention and I hold my phone back up to make my way inside.

I maneuver through the forest slowly. The ground is uneven and I’m wary of the possibilities of poison ivy and thorns. Time wears on until I reach a small clearing. It feels like poor decision called me here, so I sit in the dirt and put my head in my hands for a few minutes.

A number of loud crunches set my hair on edge and I peak over my fingers. Something large is approaching from the forest in front of me, and from the shadow I figure it must be a black bear. I stay very still, and watch the mammoth person step out into the clearing. It is easily twice my height, but even in the dark it looks starved and pathetic. It makes a low tone for a second or two, and begins to approach me slowly. I make a hard “A” sound and it flinches, stopping about 6 feet in front of me.

“What are you?” I demand, and it just looks down at me with big black eyes. It holds out its hands and claps them together loudly, yelling a shrill sound like, “Aieeeey.” It then approaches me quickly, lifts me to my feet by my arm, and leads me into the space it stepped out from. I have to run to keep up with it, but I let it lead me. Why not?

We reach a clearing where the ground drops off to a stream about 10 yards below. On the shelly bank something small glints in the fractured light. The creature stops, blinking with me at the scene below. As I am trying to think of what to do next, the earth beneath our feet starts to shake, and the shaking is soon joined by a droning sound that washes over us from no discernible direction. In a second it all stops, leaving the scene less dazzling than it was when we arrived.

The forest creature grabs me by my waist and jumps onto the bank, causing me to yelp as it lifts me to a sitting position on its shoulders. It squats down, picks up the object and hands it to me. It is a small light blue model of a Saturn L200, my car. I clutch it, wrapping my arms around the creatures forehead, and let it intuitively carry me to the causeway. After it sets me down in front of the interstate it turns back and walks into the forest. Not knowing what to think, I continue the journey home.