oh, the encyclopedia gig? I've got a freelance gig with a west-coast-based company, writing entries for a high-school-level encyclopedia. weird, huh?

Dec 13 00 This past weekend, got a call from my venzuelan friends, to go check out Jah Shaka sound system at the Stratford Rex, an old theater in east london. the Stratford train station is one I like, dunno if its norm foster or not, but it's big and feels like a spaceport from (the movie) 2001, all arching struts and zooming angles. white and silver. and occasional hobo-stain. left that palace of modernity and walked up the night-time high street. the flyer said 10:30 to 6:00, and it was about 11:30, but somehow i doubt they start on time. ran into another venezuelan, friend of my friends, on the way there. a rodeo-rider and baseball player, looking quite young, babyfaced even, in army pants and a big army jacket. slouching towards the theater, he knows the bouncer at the nightclub nextdoor, where the horrible strains of craig david are echoing. that doorman says he can get us in the side door for cheap, so we pay him (2 pounds less) and are led down down and around, past a kitchen, red staircase, doors marked 'private' and suddenly we are on the dancefloor of a lrge ballroom. people are setting up. we head up a low wide set of steps to the right and there are lots of low backless couch-things, and a bar on eather side. lots of dreads and family are chilling. the music hasn't started yet. but, so civilized at the sound system, the patty-tea-coffee-fruit-hot chocolate-cake lady is setting up her wares. maybe it's licensing laws or something, but any event which runs all night should have food and such. keeps you going, and calms the vibe a little. music begins, but keeps pausing. i think this means he's testing the speakers etc, until i realize that this is the old school sound system, a single turntable, a pile of effects and 4 towers of speakers. the bass vibrates my internal organs and makes my eyelids flutter. no alternative but to head down to the dancefloor and soak in it like you're meant to. it's a mix of rastas, slick-looking black british/caribbean gents in porkpies and turtlenecks and leather jackets, white dreaded men, also squatter style, some with just long dirty not-dreaded hair, many of them aussie/kiwi from the sound of it, and gaggles of hair-gelled eastend cockney boys in shell suits shoiting oioi selectah bo! the women tend to be european squatter style (guessing spanish or french), or black british/caribbean with their hair wrapped. I came in wearing a hat (gift from LDL, a black knit watchcap with 'girls -heart- dirt' on it, a mountain biking company), but it's far too hot and itchy. I'm one of the only women with dreads who isn't wearing a headcovering. I was already tired when i got the call, but the music, and especially the depth of the bass, keeps me up. not quite awake, but tranced. after a few songs, i'm dancing and vibrating, as are the people scattered across the floor. it's well-attended but not crowded, there's air in between the people, but it's close enough to be heated by our movement. great to watch responses to the bass and th beats ripple through teh crowd, especially because rastas are given to erupting into speech, shouts and dance, testifying and calling out. so these mini-explosions occur, of energy, not violence. jah shaka has an incredible collection, though i'm not expert. it's interesting to see how the pauses while he changes records are filled or not, how that affects the rythm of the night. it focuses the energy back on him, as people crane to see what he's doing next..

have my graduation ceremony tomorrow. we have to wear the academic robes , which we have to rent. wotta scam. it says formal wear underneath. rotsa ruck. what are they gonna be lifting up everyone's robes to check if we're fucking formal enough? perverts. i paid the rental fee, am i supposed to buy shoes i'll never wear again too? i's not like I can blend in anyway, since I have to wear my dreads down so that the silly hat will stay on.

Flying back to Boston on Saturday. for the holidays, then back here in January, but only to pack up and get all my shit back to the US. sigh. no luck on the work permit, so I have to go. don't want to, especially as the election thingy has ended up so ugly. actually, i'm happy about all the confusion, and that it's taken so long, and that no matter how it stops it will never be really resolved, but it's damn depressing that another bush is in office. especially because he's such a joke to the rest of the world. he really is.

Dec 6 00 Last night the BBC had yetta nother world war two show on. this time, it was about Japan. the first section was about Japanese treatment of POWs and attitudes towards POWs from the first war to the second. These shows are pretty interesting, but the announcers tend to get a bit mealy mouthed at times. When describing the events around the Japanese invasion of Manchuria, they accurately described how Japan was facing economic pressures, and looking at what the West was doing, chose expansion/invasion in order to increase their territory. Looking at Asia at that time, France had taken over Indochina, the Dutch Indonesia, the English Hong Kong, etc. All of these countries, including Japan, were in the League of Nations. But when Japan invaded Manchuria, a storm of protest from the Western League members erupted, condemning the act. The Japanese delegate walked out, because, as the announcer put it "they claimed there was a double standard." Hello, cowardly scriptwriters? in what way wasn't it a double standard? scratch that --it *was* a double standard. why be so coy about it? that kind of shit kept happening. Whenever Japan did whatever Western nations did to further their economic and political interests, the west reacted negatively, and the narrator said that the Japanese claimed it was hypocrisy. um. it was hypocrisy. surely 70-40 years later it would be safe to admit that.

Aside from that there were these fascinating multiple discussions of "progress" and "civilization." sometimes the Japanese were discussed by the Westerners (POWs and other military people) as uncivilized, and at the same time, admiration for their military power, and tactical ability. war is uncivilized. were they Japanese uncivilized because of their ability to win (at first)? Their inability to surrender? but when the West won it was because they were fucking pure of heart? I remember Howard Zinn writing about his experience as a bomber pilot in WWII, running a last bombing mission on a french town after the war was essentially over and all troops had been evacuated, because his commander wanted to end on a high note. some civilization.

One funny conversation I had with one of the three lads on the island -actually it was after we came back to Dublin and were chillin in a pub--, was about the Boy Scouts. I made some joke about them, and he started getting a bit defensive. I didn't expect for him to take it so seriously, but it was kinda funny. With a glint shared between his friend (a kindred spirit w/me if ever there was one), I made some comparison with the army, and all-male situations, and how it was ideal for those who mainly preferred the company of other males. He was a little disconcerted, as if he'd never thought of this before. to cap it off, I said "Baden-Powell was gay, you know" which is true. founder of the boy scouts. Mr. uncomfortable tried to keep his cool, and to lead us away from that uncomfortable resonance (ah denial), and after being kicked under the table I subsided. he had obviously never considered the possibility of desire in these settings. he was okay with gayness in theory, but in his boyscout troop backyard it was causing a little heat under the collar. hee. It's great when little facts like that about Baden-Powell can disconcert so completely. not that one can draw any linear meaning from it, necessarily, but just to confuse, to open up, it works pretty well. hee.

Dec 5 00 now it's late and i don't quite feel like a recap of my trip yet. it was actually oddly emotionaly intense, and i'm finding myself needing to recover. When I was in Dublin, the best thing I did was go to the Chester Beatty Library, which was founded by the aformentioned mr. beatty, who was an American who struck it rich in the gold rush, I believe, and retired to Dublin. He collected ancient manuscripts and such, including the oldest version of the bible except for the Dead Sea Scrolls. Also tons of Islamic books, and Islamic art, and Indian and Chinese and Japanese and other asian art. it was incredible. and free. I just wandered among the rooms of gorgeous books, carved and tooled leather, a few samurai swords, a dragon cloak. There was a section on religion with three wings: Asian (which covered several branches of buddhism, sikhism, and a few others), Christian and Islam. no Judaism. which was a bit odd. but the texts and artifacts were lovely.there was also a huge collection of Japanese woodblock prints, among which I stood dumbstruck at the rhythm and line, the delicacy, tone and freedom. If anyone has a chance to go to Dublin, don't miss this place. really incredible.

Dec 4 00 just got back from a week in Ireland. there were cheap flights (30 pounds roundtrip), so I decided to see the world a bit. Once I got to Dublin, I actually found it unpreposessing, and I was told by a guy I met and got along with that Galway was a nicer city, and that these islands off the coast near Galway --the Aran Islands-- were really a good thing to do. I took his advice, and headed out there. 3 hours on a bus, not bad. the Aran Islands are tiny, and are notable because they have Iron Age fortress ruins all over them. stone constructions from 2,000 B.C. and all. not much else. I went to Inishmore, the largest, and it was incredible. I'm going to write a lot more about the landscape, but basically it was wild and grey and green and hilly and treeless, covered with low stone walls. and these huge stone-walled enclosures. the largest one was at a cliff-edge with crashing waves all around. and being the off-season it was mostly deserted. Even so, or despite that, I ended up spending the time there with these three Irish lads I met on the ferry on the way over. we were all in the same hostel. We all got along splendidly, the whole weekend (thursday night to Saturday) it was us all on the island and we chilled as a group and it was fun. they were all really funny and i just generally like the Irish accents and attitudes (well like anywhere there's sorta the ignorant "redneck" folks and the other ones, but on the whole people were really friendly and verbal and witty and musical)... it was good I was hanging out with them because we did more than I would have done on my own. a ridiculous cycle across the island in the howling rain. one of those things that kinda sucked to do, but afterwards you felt so exhilarated. We all left on the same day and they invited me to crash at their friends' place in Galway before heading back to Dublin, saving me money for a hostel etc. nice.

they almost didn't let me back into England because my visa has expired. so I'm definitely having to leave unless i can find something magic. of course all these travelling types i met in the hostels i stayed in were like "you have some money in the bank? send your stuff back to the states and travel until you run out" heh.

just got back this evening. I'll tell more tales tomorrow.