Voodoo Child v. 16: it doesn't have to be eternal to be immortal.

I have a huge affinity for Burma, largely due to my affection for Burma Superstar. It's pretty shallow, I know, but I'm not going to start telling stories. I also know there's a huge Buddhist population there (as there is in much of Asia, but still), and in my weird way of being myself, my study of Buddhism, while largely informal, is a personal journey of mine. I have been somewhat keeping an eye on a situation in Burma that I'm surprised that hasn't been getting much news, at least in American mainstream journalism. A military regime currently runs Burma, and by run I mean owns, and by owns I mean treats its people like shit. A military regime, for the most part, is a government that is run by the military and is totally and completely devoid of human rights, civil rights and free speech. And yes, the people have nothing. In a world where we take so much for granted, from the ability to go where and when we please, to the ability to talk so much shit about the current administration, it's easy to see how even the remotest effort to squelch those rights cause a huge uproar. Imagine the sum of all that we take for granted removed from our lives. And the world doesn't notice. I read today that there are 350,000 buddhist monks in Burma. Hella monks, right? They are second in force to the military. As peaceful as they are, I was stunned to see that 9 amongst them were killed by the military during a protest. It saddens me in a very profound way. There are many other injustices happening now, roundups, beatdowns, and even when the protest is peaceful, people are being beat with batons and shot at. It breaks my heart to know this is happening. I am hoping that there will not be a massive attack against the monks and the people (who, by the way are being told to not go with the monks for fear of citizens being attacked) like the attack that happened I hope that there is a peaceful resolution here, but in a meanwhile, it'll be in my prayers. Here's something from the AP on the situation. VDC

Posted by Voodoo Child at 07:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I am standing in the middle of a train station In Paris, of course, And I feel the rush of noise as a train comes In the opposite direction No one to answer to No one to call out to me And I'm okay with that I am staring out across the quad And watching people talking I imagine what their conversation is like Then I realize That 10 minutes have passed by I can't get that back I am waiting in line For a coffee Intoxicating smell of morning A child asleep in a stroller And a man with a laptop Spying on the nurse Names yelled out They forget my order I try to not take it personally I sit in a meeting And watch boring powerpoints I wonder if anyone minds That I need to get up to use the bathroom And take a walk and watch the trees sway in the fog I have to figure out when though There are only so many needs to take A bathroom break At home in bed I hear the sounds of the street Music of tires Shouts of Who Knows It's comforting in a strange way But it's home.

Posted by Voodoo Child at 05:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Laundry to do. Get ready for work. Read some pages. Laugh. Educate my readers. From this site> The Ish! Voodoo

Posted by Voodoo Child at 11:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Posted by Voodoo Child at 10:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I never get out enough, I swear. I found out about the Ukulele Festival a few days ago, and dragged Husbandido out for a dose of the Uke. I am a fan of fun music: ukulele, harmonica, accordions. You name it. I'll even listen to a kazoo.

We went to see Jake Shimabukuro (who strangely reminds me of one famous painter, Michael Sacramento), and we weren't disappointed. He was in Japan touring and stopped by SF, only to return tomorrow. Go figure, huh. I guess that's how he rolls.

Husbandido met and spoke with him. There's a pic of them on the other blog, you know which one. He was a genuinely nice guy. I was really impressed as I watched him work the crowd. He has nice hands, btw. We saw a bunch of Ukulele groups and I really enjoyed The Paper Dolls too. I was hoping to see more Hawaiian Ukulele stuff, but found there was more of the kitschy ukulele action. It's all good. The sun was nice, and we had great seats near the man.

I had a crap experience this morning. I was trying to schedule a haircut with my new dude...I've seen him twice, and that was cool. But since he's left his salon, he just swings to each person's crib to do his gigs. So I scheduled with him tuesday. couldn't pull it off. he rescheduled for Friday. He couldn't pull that fucker off either. He scheduled for Saturday. Didn't show. I texted him. I called him. No call. I'm a little upset about that, so I'm going back to my homegirl for cuts. Yes, it's twice what he costs, but you just don't do that.

Oh and as a gift, I'm taking his business elsewhere. Let's go, girls!

Sucka!

Voodoo 

 

Posted by Voodoo Child at 08:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The ride's been bumpy

Some riders funky

And others wonderful

The air is thick

Stares laden

With musky secrets, words

Untold, this trip seems like

It will never end

The crush of bodies sways in the throes

Of the clickety-clack

And if you don't assume the stance,

You're sure to come  undone 

Excuse me

But I think

This is the point

Where I get off this train

And walk away from this station

Voodoo 

 

PS: Luciano, I know you best for your lustful libiamo ne'lieti calici...it made me fall in love with Opera and with you. You will be missed.

Posted by Voodoo Child at 09:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)