Interlude: The Sable Fan Gyrl Survives the DC Earthquake

Image Credit: Brightest Young Things

via io9.com:

In an interview with NPR, seismologist John Vidale said that the Earth’s crust actually has ancient faults in many places, but that “most of them don’t move very much…the mystery is really what’s pushing the faults to make it move now — and there are a lot of theories.”

Vidale said one of these theories is that the plate is in the process recovering from the end of the last glacial period, relieving itself of pressure incurred while the region was still covered in ice by rising and putting stress on the Earth’s crust.

 

Chrisopher Bailey, chairman of the geology department at William and Mary, told NPR that another explanation could be that the current movements of the North Atlantic tectonic plate are putting pressure on the same ancient faults mentioned by Vidale.

 

According to David Spears, Virginia’s state geologist, there are three such faults in Virginia alone.

 

“An area of central Virginia, along a line that runs from Fredericksburg to Gereensboro, N.C., used to be a plate boundary,” Spears said. “Perhaps there’s some leftover stress in the crust.”

I survived y’all.  Here’s to the impending Rapture.  *sips Bacardi & Coca*

xoxo,

 

Advertisements

Day 10 Catch Up: I’m a 90’s Baby

Life gets in the way.  But technically I still have ten hours to catch up.  That’s over a blog post an hour?

Well welcome to the Quick and Dirty Blogging Season.  Forgive the foolishness that ensues.  I do if for la gente.

One dark and stormy night, @Latinegro founded the 30 Day Latino Blog Challenge. He scheduled it to coincide with Latino/a and Latin American Heritage Month (I hate the word Hispanic) which began today and ends October 15th. And, hospitable fellow that he is, he’s invited any Latino blogger to join in.

Since I can count on one hand the number of fellow Afrolatina bloggers I know, I think I’ll take the plunge. After all, I haven’t written a post specific to Latina or Afrolatina issues for awhile now. For 30 days and nights, I owe the interwebs at least two paragraphs on the topic o’ the day. To follow along (or backtrack) click the tag “latina/o heritiage month.” Today’s topic(s): Talk about a Latino Musician in pop music

So I’m going to do this chica only because I know so little about her.  (I told you–quick and dirty season)  I did kinda grow up with her though and she does kinda sorta rep la familia (even if she is blonder than Madonna).  And this did ask for “pop.”

So sometimes I’m a gay man.  Which explains why I damn near fell out of my seat when the trailer for the new movie Burlesque with Cher and Christina Aguilera appeared on the screen while I was quietly munching popcorn and waiting for the Social Network. I swear–I loves me some Christina.


Favorite part of this movie is that she will actually look somewhat everyday, circa 1999:

While Britney flamed up and out and Justin went hip hop, this mujer consistently did just what she wanted to do: be it dirty girl dancing (@Pretty_Magnolia loves that ish), tattoos, unattractive husbands (you know it is true, but he loved you boo, do you) and cyborg behavior.  She’s also a survivor of domestic abuse and while she had her process play out in front of the entire world via her celebrity adolescence, she seems to have come out the other side whole and empowered.

Christina Aguilera basics (courtesy of the devil, Wikipedia):

Aguilera was born in Staten Island, New York, to Fausto Wagner Xavier Aguilera, a Sergeant in the U.S. Army at the time, and Shelly Loraine (née Fidler), a teacher of Spanish. Aguilera’s father was born in Guayaquil, Ecuador.[25] Her maternal grandmother, Delcie Mabel Dunfee,[26] emigrated from County Clare, Ireland,[27] while her maternal grandfather is of German, French, English, and Dutch ancestry.[28]Her father was stationed at Earnest Harmon Air Force Base in Stephenville, Newfoundland and Labrador and Japan. Aguilera lived with her father and mother until she was seven years old. Aguilera grew up hearing Spanish and thus understands the language.[29] When Aguilera’s parents divorced, her mother took her, and her younger sister Rachel, to her grandmother’s home in Rochester, Pennsylvania, a town outside of Pittsburgh. According to both Aguilera and Fidler, her father was very controlling, as well as physically and emotionally abusive.[30] She later sang about her difficult childhood in the songs “I’m OK” on Stripped, and “Oh Mother” on Back to Basics. Although her father has written to Aguilera, she has ruled out any chance of reuniting with him.[31] Since then, Fidler has married a paramedic named Jim Kearns, and changed her name.

Throughout her youth in Pittsburgh, Aguilera sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” before Pittsburgh Penguins hockey, Pittsburgh Steelersfootball and Pittsburgh Pirates baseball games, including during the 1992 Stanley Cup Finals.[35] Her first major role in entertainment came in 1993 when she joined the Disney Channel’s variety show The Mickey Mouse Club. Her co-stars included Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears,Ryan Gosling and Keri Russell, the show lasted another year until its cancellation. According to the documentary Driven, Aguilera’s co-stars called her “the Diva”. One of her most notable performances was of Whitney Houston’s “I Have Nothing”.[34] At the age of fourteen, Aguilera recorded her first song, “All I Wanna Do”, a hit duet with Japanese singer Keizo Nakanishi.[36] In 1997, she represented the United States at the international Golden Stag Festival with a two-song set.[37] Aguilera entered talent contests on “teen night” at the Pegasus Lounge, a gay and lesbian nightclub in Pittsburgh.[38] She would later debut in Pittsburgh in mid-1999 at Lilith Fair.

Go there for the rest.

Enjoy:

I’m a Winner!

Wooohooo!

I won Evelyn Alfred‘s book give away.  Which means a copy of Ernessa T. Carter’s 32 Candles will magically appear in my mailbox just in time for Labor Day Weekend!  Happy Monday to me!

*sigh.  One day, I will be an older, stronger, well-seasoned blogger who gets free books sent to her too.  And I will return the favor with book giveaways galore.  But until then, I’m gonna tear this one up.  Sixteen Candles was my first Molly Ringwald movie and remains a classic.

Watch the book trailer and read the synopsis here:

Visit the 32 Candles website.

Hang out over at Evelyn’s place.

Follow both of these lovely women on twitter.

Dance it out.  *flounces out of the room to “If You Were Here”*

Yum

It’s almost here.  Matt Dillon, Idris Elba, T.I., Chris Brown, Michael Ealy, Hayden Christensen, Paul Walker and Jay Hernandez.  And some girl-crush Zoe Saldana like a cherry on top.

Your welcome.

Corinthians I, Jarena Lee, Avatar

Me and my ambivalent relation to Christianity had me in chapel service more than frustrated today. Why?  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m too Catholic in practice and Yoruban in aesthetic.  Why do I have to stamp and shout?  Why do I always get picked on by the pastor because I don’t?  Why do I have to say Amen when I’m told to say Amen?  I’m like a damn bratty child.

And even still, this is one of my favorite passages from the Bible (from the King James’ version)

8: For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit;
9: To another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit;
10: To another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues; to another the interpretation of tongues:
11: But all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will.

First Corinthians 12:8-11

Working cures.  Curing work.  As a diverse community of rabble-rousers, idealists and sorcerrors.  To each their own skills as they’ve been blessed with by the Holy Spirit (or whatever the equivalent may be depending on your faith).

And you’re job is to make use of it.

I guess I just need to read deep for my own interpretation of things.

And find my own inspiration:

“At the first meeting which I held at my uncle’s house, there was, with others who had come from curiosity to hear the woman preacher, an old man, who was a Deist, and who said he did not believe the coloured people had any souls — he was sure they had none. He took a seat very near where I was standing, and boldly tried to look me out of countenance. But as I labored on in the best manner I was able, looking to God all the while, though it seemed to me I had but little liberty, yet there went an arrow from the bent bow of the gospel, and fastened in his till then obdurate heart. After I had done speaking, he went out, and called the people around him, said that my preaching might seem a small thing, yet be believed I had the worth of souls at heart. This language was different from what it was a little time before, as he now seemed to admit that coloured people had souls, as it was to these I was chiefly speaking; and unless they had souls, whose good I had in view, his remark must have been without meaning. He now came into the house, and in the most friendly manner shook hands with me, saying, he hoped God had spared him to some good purpose. This man was a great slave holder, and had been very cruel ; thinking, nothing of knocking down a slave with a fence stake, or whatever might come to hand. From this time it was said of him that he became greatly altered in his ways for the better. At that time he was about seventy years old, his head as white as snow; but whether be became a converted man or not, I never heard….”

Jarena Lee, Religious Experience and Journal of Mrs. Jarena Lee (Philadelphia, 1849), 19-20.

See this is why I love the insurgent women I study.  She said he, “boldly tried to look me out of countenance.”  In other words, he gave her the side-eye.  Well, considering he was a slaveowner, side-eye isn’t even necessary here.  Because she knew that one word out of favor and she could be reprimanded, violently.  She knew this man “nothing of knocking down a slave with a fence stake, or whatever might come to hand.”

Still she spoke her mind.  And she ended up moving that man enough to say that Jarena had “the worth of souls at heart.”  She moved him by her own skill and her own ingenuity, creativity and boldness (Jarena Lee’s self-published narrative of conversion is one of the few conversion narratives we have written by an enslaved African-American women herself; the Schomburg has industriously digitized 52 such works as part of their digital archive/exhibit African American Women Writers of the Nineteenth Century).  A skill that came out of a place of spirit.  She was literally speaking truth to power.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Jarena also acknowledged that there was something even beyond her own skill that kept her out of trouble that day, because “yet there went an arrow from the bent bow of the gospel, and fastened in his till then obdurate heart.”  She put the escape from violence (because in this moment, that is exactly what it was) on God.  Something stepped in for her that day.

It seems trite when we look back sometimes.  It seems rhetorical or just part of an appeal to Methodist or abolitionist sensibilities.  The idea that the gospel stepped in to keep her from harm.  And maybe part of it is–maybe Jarena really thought the gospel stepped in around her and she just wanted to make it seem like she felt some sort of pity or mercy for this particularly heavy-handed slaveowner.  Maybe she was angry, furious that this man dare violate her space and try to make her feel small, worthless, dirty, insignificant and vulnerable and she actually was just thankful the gospel stepped in and stopped her from slamming a stake across his face.  Who knows?

But there is something real to spirit in the world of slaves.  There is something real to spirit in the history of people of African descent–something more than rhetoric or accommodation or just plain survival.  There is something we must take seriously about the world of belief when we look back into black history across the world–from the New Jersey, where Jarena Lee was born to the African cabildos of nineteenth century Cuba.

I saw Avatar last night and I think this is the theme that struck me most (I refuse to enter all of the debates about all the race bending, Dances with Wolves meets Pocahontas, White Man’s Guilty Conscience, White Man the Savior tropes of the movie.  The critics are right.  You know they are.  Let’s not go there).  The present-ness of Na’vi faith.  The fact of Neytiri‘s faith was as present to her as the bow she slung ever so Sioux-like across her shoulders.

Why did James Cameron have to sweeten up this bit of esotera for us by adding the scientific dimension (some biology bruh ha ha about 10.4 parts or cells or whatever that made Pandora, their world, a huge network of nerves and memories and therefore an actual living entity)?  It made it real–but it was also a poison pill because it twisted what we understand real is.  Jarena Lee’s arrow of the Holy Spirit was as real to her as the signs from Eywa that Lt. John Dunbar–I mean, Jake Sully of the Jarhead Clan had a “strong heart.”  As real as the moment at a bembé when Oshun makes her appearance.  So that still what is real remains only what science can prove.  And we know how well we poc deal in that.

Sigh.  I’m going to go lay down.  Think about Jarena Lee for tomorrow when some man (or woman) tries to “look me out of countenance.”  I’ve got words for them.  “Fear is not an appropriate motivator.”  Think about Jarena Lee being insurgent.  Or Zoë Saldana’s beautiful acting (and my new girl crush Michelle Rodriguez).  Get my warrior-woman up.

After all, my Gods can kick your Gods’ asses.