Truth, Love, Joy

I was inspired by this page on mothering.com to write my own Haiku about cloth diapering.

pure cotton softness
no plastic on my baby
wrapped in wool; it breathes

It's a complete mystery why some mamas become obsessed with the things. But we do! Something about that soft new butt inspires us.   We want to wrap it in something wonderful.
 
plastic diaper sweat
hot wrinkled red skin whimpers
begging for relief
 
Well, now I'm just being silly.  But seriously.  Want to see something lovely?
 
Look at this beautiful diaper.  All organic Egyptian cotton.  Lovely against a baby's bum.  And the wool wrap keeps air flowing, unlike those horrible plastic things.  Ever worn something plastic?  Vinyl suits create a horrible sweaty environment, and a rash.  Even raincoats get uncomfortable.  But wonderful wool just keeps breathing.  And yes, they do work, and yes, they do feel a little damp when it's time for a change.  But they also kill germs, and the dampness disappears when you change the baby, which you should have done anyway.

These soft wool wraps are the ones I'm hoping to get for Fizzle-Boo's growing baby butt, when I can afford it. (I'm guessing we still have a few weeks.) Soft and pretty too!

Baby wears cotton and wool, mama wears baby, and everybody's happy.

Urban life sometimes gets on our nerves. With the loud music, crowded conditions, litter, people arguing in the street, and occasional police raids, it could bug anybody. But yesterday a kid found this dragonfly (one much like it, anyway) and there were no fewer than 12 people standing on my front porch looking at it, 4 of them adults. A few minutes later, there was a different group looking at it. This fascinating little insect was drawing people together. It's enough to give you warm fuzzies, if you're prone to that sort of thing.

We also had a great time setting off fireworks on the fourth, including a "finale" that was completely spontaneous. It's hard to remember sometimes that most of these neighbors aren't People Like Us. That is, until one of the kids decides to run up and grab a very-recently-lit firework, and none of the parents care, because the beer and cigarettes distract them. Or when we see a kid steal from or torment another. Those are the times we say, "Now I remember why we liked the suburbs."

I was thinking that I should talk about joy some. But before I could get around to it, I found myself slipping into a fog.

It's a Fibromyalgia fog, or a Depression fog, or both. When it lifts, I plan to write about whether they can be distinguished, and about the taxonomy of human disorders in general.

Comments in advance are welcome.

One of the great things about hating the elephants as much as the asses (and vice versa) is that I can take secondary sources from the left and from the right and from the mainstream media, without worrying about who I offend. I can evaluate the articles independently, rather than judging them based on the articles they hang out with.

I try to forgive Lew Rockwell for linking to the racist VDare. And I hope you'll understand my need to work from info that comes from some whackos too. Quality news is scarce. I take it where I can get it.

Rumsfeld never said there were "weapons of mass destruction" in Iraq. In fact, the defense department would like you to read for yourself what he never said, and his declarations that he never said it.

If you like, here's a video of him having what he never said quoted back to him.

He's being more careful this time, saying that he "can't imagine" reinstating the draft, so maybe he'll never have to claim he never said this.

For your reading pleasure, here's a list of things other people probably never said.

I just read Asperger's Huh? by Rosina Schnurr. She wrote the book from the perspective of a kid, though she's a grown-up psycologist. I should have suspected something when she kept refering to it as "Asperger's Disorder." I've never heard an aspie call it "Asperger's Disorder."

Of course, there are problems with being an aspie in a non-aspie culture.

The biggest problem is that there is a big "kick me" sign on one's back. Aspies are magnets for the cruelty of other people, especially school kids.

If you're an aspie, you choose strange clothes, until you learn, consciously, what clothing other people approve of. You talk incessantly about your very interesting hobby, until you learn, consciously, how much talking people like, how much they will tolerate, and how much will make them walk away. And you're blunt and direct and literal, and spend your whole life learning how to be circumspect.

Imagine being in a country where people stomp their foot to say "no" instead of shaking their head, and they sway from side to side to indicate "yes." Imagine that it's rude to eat the way you always have; instead you must hold it in your left hand (if you're a righty) and with only two fingers. That's what life is like for an Aspie. Trying to figure out how "neuro-typicals" (that's the Aspie word for non-Aspies) act is a life-long puzzle.

Anyway, she covers the problems pretty well. Unfortunately, she leaves out how honest, curious, determined and loyal aspies can be, just for starters. If you're looking for a book for a kid who is convinced that he's superior to everyone for being an aspie, this might bring him down a peg or two. But if you want something positive that gives a broader view of the syndrome, I'd pass it up.

Taking Children Seriously is the name of a journal, and of a website, and of an email list. All three are vehicles for the promotion of some really good ideas about how children ought to be treated, and how children (and all of us) best learn. They have proven very effective in spreading the word about these ideas. What they haven't done is to create a philosophical school of thought.

"TCS" is a theory. For a theory to thrive and grow, for it to improve over time, it is essential that it be open to debate and criticism. Dissent must be encouraged, and not stifled on the grounds that the movement will be hurt by such things.

In fact, the opposite is true. The movement suffers because the theory is static; it does not change.

Many people join the e-list and, whether in a day or in several years, leave in frustration, convinced that "TCS," however wonderful it once seemed, is actually harmful. How do they conclude this? They find themselves experiencing difficulties, and they try to find solutions, first by studying the work that's already been done, then by bringing the problems to the e-list. The problems are serious, and without solutions, they find, "TCS" simply will not work.

Time and time again they are met with defenses of the theory as it exists, and by a refusal to recognize any weakness in it. It is suggested to them (repeatedly) that they must be stupid or evil to doubt it, and all they while, they are told that "TCS" is an excellent example of people being open to criticism. Not being skilled philosophers, they feel confused, outwitted, and tricked. They know that this theory, the one they've been told is the most wonderful theory about children ever devised, is, despite the many ways in which it is brilliant, horribly flawed.

This theory has produced misery in them and in their children, and none of these brilliant people -- so interested in growing knowledge -- will take the problem seriously.

While the leaders of the movement proclaim a strong interest in Critical Rationalism, they have not encouraged the free exchange of ideas. They have prevented it in their own forums and in other venues. To date, no unofficial "TCS" journals or discussion groups have been successful, and as long as that continues, "TCS" will be controlled by those who first brought it to light.

In reality, "TCS" is a wonderful beginning. Following in the tradition of libertarian parenting, of doing the right thing by children, and even of critical rationalism, it gives us much to work with. I implore the leaders of "TCS" to reconsider their avoidance of criticism, but in the meantime, I hope that those of us who are interested in the treatment of children, and in the growth of knowledge, will continue our efforts to create a real philosophy out of "TCS."

Eugene police ticket because seatbelts save lives.
That's what it says on the newest "public service" ads. "Because" implies an argument, or an explanation, doesn't it? Well, if so, I'm not getting it. Am I just dense?

Maybe they're saying that:

Eugene police should do anything that save lives.

Ticketing people for not wearing seatbelts saves lives.

Therefore, Eugene police should ticket.

It's not clear that the second premise is true, but I'll leave that one alone. What I'm concerned about is premise one. If we accept that, what other helpful ways might they find to protect us?

Or what if they're actually saying:

Eugene police can do whatever they want.

They want to save lives, and believe that ticketing will help with that.

Therefore, Eugene police ticket.

And since when is "ticket" a verb?