So a small victory goes to the small minded today, but it is a mere door stop meant to withhold a battering ram.
I am not going to investigate the depth of simple minded, hate and fear consumed, bigotry that causes people to think that there should even be a debate over whether some people are more equal than others. We are past the point of argument here. Those who understand our reasons will continue to do so, and those who do not will continue to clutch their crosses and desperately pray for a god to take their side.
The fact of the matter is that there are still 18,000 couples in California who's status as equals serves as a reminder of the progress that we have made. There are also five states states, which is a number inconceivable to activists who tirelessly toiled as little as a decade ago. The wheels of justice turn very slowly, but they do turn.
So chin up people! Working toward a cause is never easy or fluid. It is tough, riddled with ridicule, tireless work, and disappointment.
Keep fighting California!
This Texas boy is biting his lips, clenching his fists, and still believes that this fight is far from over.
5/14/09
Another Day in Car Land
"I'm just trying to keep it rollin'. Just taking it a one day at a time," says Soul, "but damn, 789 is a big number. It'll take you some time to count there one by one. 789. Lord! Think about all the people who losing they job!"
5/12/09
Why Buy a Chrysler?
Why would anybody want to buy a gas-guzzling vehicle that requires frequent maintenance and has a significantly shorter life span than its competitors from a company that has gone bankrupt?
I have no earthly idea, but this article offers a few accurate suggestions. People are still willing to buy, which astounds me.
It looks like a lot of dealerships will be closing down soon. Ours is one of the last in town. All of the smaller dealerships have shut down or have combined the larger ones that sell Chrysler, Dodge, and Jeep. We are one of two, I think, large dealerships left, both of us on opposite ends of the city. None of the salesmen seem worried about it. Their only concern is to sell cars. That is their focus. Gotta sell a car. Nothing more.
The phones are busy, but we are selling fewer vehicles. Perhaps people are calling just to see if we are still here. Or maybe they are calling with unreasonable offers, thinking that they can wrench a better deal from the corpse-like hands of Chrysler.
Actually, they can.
If they have good credit. Most people, I have learned, do not. They are trying to live beyond their means. I see it every day. People with virtually no income, bad credit, and enormous debt are all trying to purchase brand spanking new vehicles. A couple of years ago, they would all probably have gotten approved. With this in mind, America's current financial crisis comes as no surprise to me. People like to buy things. Unreasonable things. Unsustainable things. Anything.
Every time a customers walk through our front doors and gawks at the classic automobiles on our showroom floor, they say the same thing. "I want that." A phrase, shouted by children after every commercial, three simple words that encompass the mindset of nearly every American.
Service customers are impatiently pacing around the showroom floor. Our new-car manager is introducing himself to some customers. Things are as usual. Footloose is playing over our Muzak system and Jeff, our youngest salesman, is absurdly dancing and singing into an imaginary microphone. His customers are happily walking across the lot with the keys to their new American made gas-guzzler.
Americans and American cars; they both consume too much.
I have no earthly idea, but this article offers a few accurate suggestions. People are still willing to buy, which astounds me.
It looks like a lot of dealerships will be closing down soon. Ours is one of the last in town. All of the smaller dealerships have shut down or have combined the larger ones that sell Chrysler, Dodge, and Jeep. We are one of two, I think, large dealerships left, both of us on opposite ends of the city. None of the salesmen seem worried about it. Their only concern is to sell cars. That is their focus. Gotta sell a car. Nothing more.
The phones are busy, but we are selling fewer vehicles. Perhaps people are calling just to see if we are still here. Or maybe they are calling with unreasonable offers, thinking that they can wrench a better deal from the corpse-like hands of Chrysler.
Actually, they can.
If they have good credit. Most people, I have learned, do not. They are trying to live beyond their means. I see it every day. People with virtually no income, bad credit, and enormous debt are all trying to purchase brand spanking new vehicles. A couple of years ago, they would all probably have gotten approved. With this in mind, America's current financial crisis comes as no surprise to me. People like to buy things. Unreasonable things. Unsustainable things. Anything.
Every time a customers walk through our front doors and gawks at the classic automobiles on our showroom floor, they say the same thing. "I want that." A phrase, shouted by children after every commercial, three simple words that encompass the mindset of nearly every American.
Service customers are impatiently pacing around the showroom floor. Our new-car manager is introducing himself to some customers. Things are as usual. Footloose is playing over our Muzak system and Jeff, our youngest salesman, is absurdly dancing and singing into an imaginary microphone. His customers are happily walking across the lot with the keys to their new American made gas-guzzler.
Americans and American cars; they both consume too much.
5/9/09
Not quite a poem
I first noticed the “thin line between love and hate”
That all nerds allude to
When you called me tender.
Tenderness is what our grandparents felt at the altar
And what ninjas know nothing of.
It’s dogs barking
And you altering your jeans,
meticulously. I didn’t think you could sew.
Tenderness is “This page cannot be found”
And me floundering to end your sentences
When I am fully aware that “The Newlywed Game” went off the air years ago.
It has so much less to do with me
But then, I’m writing this,
And you’re probably just glossing over it.
Rose petals are cousins of razor blades
And step-parents can mime affection without prompt.
It’s dogs barking
And you pouring over greeting cards
Until you find a phrase that meets your standards…
Or what you expect your standards to be.
So, you steal a line from Top 40 radio and I swoon
Because a line lifted is a line felt.
But ninjas wouldn’t even pause for this cold pot of coffee.
Ninjas don’t like coffee at all.
That all nerds allude to
When you called me tender.
Tenderness is what our grandparents felt at the altar
And what ninjas know nothing of.
It’s dogs barking
And you altering your jeans,
meticulously. I didn’t think you could sew.
Tenderness is “This page cannot be found”
And me floundering to end your sentences
When I am fully aware that “The Newlywed Game” went off the air years ago.
It has so much less to do with me
But then, I’m writing this,
And you’re probably just glossing over it.
Rose petals are cousins of razor blades
And step-parents can mime affection without prompt.
It’s dogs barking
And you pouring over greeting cards
Until you find a phrase that meets your standards…
Or what you expect your standards to be.
So, you steal a line from Top 40 radio and I swoon
Because a line lifted is a line felt.
But ninjas wouldn’t even pause for this cold pot of coffee.
Ninjas don’t like coffee at all.
5/7/09
prodigal daughter
That's a shitty title, but we're stuck with it. Something I read recently (I'm a champ at not being able to cite sources) talked about the Prodigal Son's real moral as one that demonstrates the fact that some people do not wish to be loved. Which if you think about it, is totally different and more poignant than the whole unconditional forgiveness Sunday school spin. Why am I talking about alternate bible interpretations? Maybe that can be, like, my thing. Tomorrow: Leviticus -- god's call for the chosen to eat fish sticks. (You're fucked Richard)
And anyway all I meant by prodigal is that I don't frequent the talkhard blog, though I intend to start. I definitely want to be loved. Like probably too much. Like probably way too much. My cat is rubbing his face raw against my laptop while I write this, I think to demonstrate that he sympathizes with my need to be lavished with affection. Or else he's just a fucking cat.
In other important global events: I hate/am jealous of people who use the phrase "meta" frequently and appropriately. As retribution I'm going to start using it as arbitrarily as possible.
Person Who Isn't Me: Hey, Nicole-- Do you believe breakfast really is the most important meal of the day, or is that just more greeting card company hullabaloo?
Me: (thoughtful pause) Meta.
Person Who Isn't Me 2: Let's play kickball!
Me: (pregnant hesitation) Meta.
Updates to follow
(but probably I'll just forget the whole experiment or bore of it. Not a lot of follow-through with this kid)
And anyway all I meant by prodigal is that I don't frequent the talkhard blog, though I intend to start. I definitely want to be loved. Like probably too much. Like probably way too much. My cat is rubbing his face raw against my laptop while I write this, I think to demonstrate that he sympathizes with my need to be lavished with affection. Or else he's just a fucking cat.
In other important global events: I hate/am jealous of people who use the phrase "meta" frequently and appropriately. As retribution I'm going to start using it as arbitrarily as possible.
Person Who Isn't Me: Hey, Nicole-- Do you believe breakfast really is the most important meal of the day, or is that just more greeting card company hullabaloo?
Me: (thoughtful pause) Meta.
Person Who Isn't Me 2: Let's play kickball!
Me: (pregnant hesitation) Meta.
Updates to follow
(but probably I'll just forget the whole experiment or bore of it. Not a lot of follow-through with this kid)
5/6/09
A Live Reading
Here I am reading an article from issue 4 of TalkHard at Ruta Maya.
Thank you Chris Savage for posting this on your blog.
Thank you Chris Savage for posting this on your blog.
5/5/09
Good Morning Chrysler
I keep reading in the news about how far car sales are sliding, but you wouldn't know it working here. Our numbers for last month were as steady as they have been ever since our current management team took over. I think that this story paints a fair picture of how many of us feel. Certainly, we are not getting out two to three hundred vehicles a month like we did in the often reflected upon heyday, but we have kept ourselves steady since December.
It is early morning now, and I won't have time to blog later today because I am training our new evening receptionist.
Our lot manager, Booker, passes by my desk. He has a small, but muscular frame, like Bruce Lee. His eyes, which could pierce a hole through solid steel, are softened by the small framed glasses that he wears. A thoughtful and considerate man, he often stops by my desk to talk about various tidbits of knowledge. "Good morning Booker," I call to him. "Hey brother-man," he calls back, and walks toward the garage.
Now I check on yesterday's numbers and call our main store to give them to Lorraine, who is the morning receptionist over there. She is the voice of my mornings. Every morning I talk to her. Sometimes I ask for her advice. Often I just tell her about my evenings or weekends. Every morning for close to a year now I have talked to Lorraine, but I have never actually met her.
The salespeople are trickling in, tucking in their shirts, tying their ties, smoking their morning cigarettes out on the concrete stoop that looks over our parking lot. They lean on the rail and talk about yesterday's near misses and today's possibilities. Sales people always focus on the possibilities. Theirs is a profession that can't look back for too long, there's no money in it. You can't eat your past, or take shelter in it.
I see my trainee walking up the steps so I need to wrap this up. Until next time.
It is early morning now, and I won't have time to blog later today because I am training our new evening receptionist.
Our lot manager, Booker, passes by my desk. He has a small, but muscular frame, like Bruce Lee. His eyes, which could pierce a hole through solid steel, are softened by the small framed glasses that he wears. A thoughtful and considerate man, he often stops by my desk to talk about various tidbits of knowledge. "Good morning Booker," I call to him. "Hey brother-man," he calls back, and walks toward the garage.
Now I check on yesterday's numbers and call our main store to give them to Lorraine, who is the morning receptionist over there. She is the voice of my mornings. Every morning I talk to her. Sometimes I ask for her advice. Often I just tell her about my evenings or weekends. Every morning for close to a year now I have talked to Lorraine, but I have never actually met her.
The salespeople are trickling in, tucking in their shirts, tying their ties, smoking their morning cigarettes out on the concrete stoop that looks over our parking lot. They lean on the rail and talk about yesterday's near misses and today's possibilities. Sales people always focus on the possibilities. Theirs is a profession that can't look back for too long, there's no money in it. You can't eat your past, or take shelter in it.
I see my trainee walking up the steps so I need to wrap this up. Until next time.
5/3/09
Porn Star Chicken Sanwiches
Remember when McDonald's was trying to appeal to the health conscious with this load of bullshit?
Of course the "Go Active" campaign failed, because nobody could possibly believe that McDonald's actually gave a good god damn about fitness. Meanwhile, unused pedometers fell into the sticky linings of countless couches.
Meet Micky D's new mascot, The Dollar Menunaire:
********(Click the image to enlarge)*******
So basically the Dollar Menunaire is a an stupid slob who doesn't have any money, which is, as I see it, the most honest ad campaign that McDonald's has ever conceived.
No, they are not going after your kids. No, they don't want you to be healthy. With the Dollar Menunaire, McDonald's has created their ideal customer, a fucking moron. It's like they are saying, "hey fat fuck, this shit is for you and it is CHEAP!"
Though one could easily be offended by how McDonalds characterises consumers, I have to admit, I appreciate their honesty.
And the salad in the background? Old habits die hard I guess.
Oh, and one more thing, doesn't Mr. Menunaire look a lot like Ron Jeremy?
Nice touch, McDonald's.
Of course the "Go Active" campaign failed, because nobody could possibly believe that McDonald's actually gave a good god damn about fitness. Meanwhile, unused pedometers fell into the sticky linings of countless couches.Meet Micky D's new mascot, The Dollar Menunaire:
********(Click the image to enlarge)*******So basically the Dollar Menunaire is a an stupid slob who doesn't have any money, which is, as I see it, the most honest ad campaign that McDonald's has ever conceived.
No, they are not going after your kids. No, they don't want you to be healthy. With the Dollar Menunaire, McDonald's has created their ideal customer, a fucking moron. It's like they are saying, "hey fat fuck, this shit is for you and it is CHEAP!"
Though one could easily be offended by how McDonalds characterises consumers, I have to admit, I appreciate their honesty.
And the salad in the background? Old habits die hard I guess.
Oh, and one more thing, doesn't Mr. Menunaire look a lot like Ron Jeremy?
Nice touch, McDonald's.
4/30/09
Bankrupt!
I'm not surprised that it finally happened. But what does it mean for us, who make our meager wages at Chrysler dealerships?
Customers have been calling in to check if we are still here. We are. They want to know if their warranties are still valid. They are.
The sales people here don't seem worried. Why should they be? There are still a lot of cars to sell. Gino strolls through the dealership with a closed mouth smile. He's excited that Italian company, Alfa Romeo is buying Chrysler. "Today is a good day," he cheerfully says. Gino is Italian himself, and so I suppose he feels a sense of pride. It puts me at ease.
But then there are the ominous signs. The Meeting. Upstairs. Between the managers of every department of our dealership. Service, Parts, Sales, Office. All of the boss folk are going up into that room. We, on the first floor, stare up with trembling eyes, wondering what ill news they will bring down with them. Even Gino takes a brief moment to stop at my desk and wonder what is going on up there. "Maybe restructuring," he tells me.
Our dealership is filled with classic cars, which tell a story of the history of Chrysler. I guess they are here to attract customers, who enter our dealership in a state of awe. I always hear, "You don't see that every day." Well, yes I do. Though I think the classic cars are interesting (especially the 1924 Depot Hack), I can't help but see them as symbols of past ideas that no longer apply to today. The monstrous, gas-devouring, road-hogging, cars from the fifties are offensive to me. Not the cars themselves, but the unsustainable and shortsighted way of life for which they stand. I recently read an essay on the nature of collecting, and how it was characteristic of groups or individuals near the end of their life span. This thought makes the presence of so many classic cars at the dealership trouble me. It's as if my desk is in the center of a whirlwind of fragmented memories, a life flashing before Chrysler's eyes.
The meeting is ending as I am writing this. The suits are filing out quietly. The sales people are leaning around my desk, talking about what might happen. Nobody is too worried. Sales is a "here today, gone tomorrow," kind of business. Salespeople come and go fast. Losing your job is part of the job. Let's just hope its not the only part.
Customers have been calling in to check if we are still here. We are. They want to know if their warranties are still valid. They are.
The sales people here don't seem worried. Why should they be? There are still a lot of cars to sell. Gino strolls through the dealership with a closed mouth smile. He's excited that Italian company, Alfa Romeo is buying Chrysler. "Today is a good day," he cheerfully says. Gino is Italian himself, and so I suppose he feels a sense of pride. It puts me at ease.
But then there are the ominous signs. The Meeting. Upstairs. Between the managers of every department of our dealership. Service, Parts, Sales, Office. All of the boss folk are going up into that room. We, on the first floor, stare up with trembling eyes, wondering what ill news they will bring down with them. Even Gino takes a brief moment to stop at my desk and wonder what is going on up there. "Maybe restructuring," he tells me.
Our dealership is filled with classic cars, which tell a story of the history of Chrysler. I guess they are here to attract customers, who enter our dealership in a state of awe. I always hear, "You don't see that every day." Well, yes I do. Though I think the classic cars are interesting (especially the 1924 Depot Hack), I can't help but see them as symbols of past ideas that no longer apply to today. The monstrous, gas-devouring, road-hogging, cars from the fifties are offensive to me. Not the cars themselves, but the unsustainable and shortsighted way of life for which they stand. I recently read an essay on the nature of collecting, and how it was characteristic of groups or individuals near the end of their life span. This thought makes the presence of so many classic cars at the dealership trouble me. It's as if my desk is in the center of a whirlwind of fragmented memories, a life flashing before Chrysler's eyes.
The meeting is ending as I am writing this. The suits are filing out quietly. The sales people are leaning around my desk, talking about what might happen. Nobody is too worried. Sales is a "here today, gone tomorrow," kind of business. Salespeople come and go fast. Losing your job is part of the job. Let's just hope its not the only part.
4/23/09
Would You Rather Spit or Swallow?
Hey class act!
Are you craving you nico-fix, but worried that cigarettes are losing their cool?
Do you love to chew, but are sick of having to hide your blackened saliva in empty Coke cans and potted plants?
Well now you can buy a product that will discreetly infuse nicotine into your bloodstream while flavoring your spit at the same time!
-One can definitely understand the need for a product that makes the act of feeding a nicotine addiction more secretive and less smelly and gross. However, this product is nothing more than flavored spit. Fucking tacky. Smokers will just stick to smoking.
4/10/09
Mistakes and Apologies
No issue of TalkHard is without its share of blunders, but this issue's blunder takes the entire cake and sets it on fire.
We placed an article in this issue written by Matthew Duncan (a regular TalkHard contributor) without crediting him in the issue. Matt, I'm sorry about the mistake. I didn't even notice it until all of the issues had been distributed. We are running a second print of this issue with the error fixed. I apologize.
All you readers out in Austin land may have noticed that the zine is almost gone from shelves. Cool, huh? Don't worry, we will have a second run of the issue coming out this and next week. We'll keep you posted on where to find one.
Oh, and if anybody wants a copy mailed to them, send us an email.
talkhardindustries@gmail.com
We placed an article in this issue written by Matthew Duncan (a regular TalkHard contributor) without crediting him in the issue. Matt, I'm sorry about the mistake. I didn't even notice it until all of the issues had been distributed. We are running a second print of this issue with the error fixed. I apologize.
All you readers out in Austin land may have noticed that the zine is almost gone from shelves. Cool, huh? Don't worry, we will have a second run of the issue coming out this and next week. We'll keep you posted on where to find one.
Oh, and if anybody wants a copy mailed to them, send us an email.
talkhardindustries@gmail.com
4/6/09
TalkHard Delivery!
I'm putting TalkHard issues at the following places!
-The Hideout Coffee House
-Ruta Maya Coffee
-Book People
-Waterloo Records
-(this one coffee shop on manor that nicole used to live by.
But I need more places to distribute!
Anybody have any ideas?
-The Hideout Coffee House
-Ruta Maya Coffee
-Book People
-Waterloo Records
-(this one coffee shop on manor that nicole used to live by.
But I need more places to distribute!
Anybody have any ideas?
4/1/09
Dropping the Mike
My first reading at an open mike was last night. Ruta Maya. By the strip club. Nerves, shivering hands clasping crumbled paper, I looked up at the poets on the stage with the same big-eyed fascination as when I first searched for the sky through the majestic skyscrapers of Manhattan.
My choice was an essay I wrote for issue two of TalkHard called Something is Rotten in the City of Austin. I'll add it to this post later. My choice of reading was a response to all of the poets whose verse was entirely focused on the obstinate beauty of their drug hazed party scenes. I wanted to call them out on it.
It went very well. They laughed at the funny parts. I dropped the microphone at one point, but it didn't change anything. They applauded as they do, and a pretty young girl with silver earrings and a boy's curly hair cut told me that she liked my piece. Satisfaction. Next week, we'll do it again.
And more good news: TALKHARD ISSUE 5 IS BEING PRINTED TODAY!
I'll bet you are excited. I know I am. There will be a staple party soon, so if anybody wants to spend some time talking, drinking, and stapling, give me a call. I will probably do it this Saturday.
There will be a special blog on the process of creating this issue posted soon this week.
My choice was an essay I wrote for issue two of TalkHard called Something is Rotten in the City of Austin. I'll add it to this post later. My choice of reading was a response to all of the poets whose verse was entirely focused on the obstinate beauty of their drug hazed party scenes. I wanted to call them out on it.
It went very well. They laughed at the funny parts. I dropped the microphone at one point, but it didn't change anything. They applauded as they do, and a pretty young girl with silver earrings and a boy's curly hair cut told me that she liked my piece. Satisfaction. Next week, we'll do it again.
And more good news: TALKHARD ISSUE 5 IS BEING PRINTED TODAY!
I'll bet you are excited. I know I am. There will be a staple party soon, so if anybody wants to spend some time talking, drinking, and stapling, give me a call. I will probably do it this Saturday.
There will be a special blog on the process of creating this issue posted soon this week.
2/26/09
How not to make a zine. Chapter Two
Why didn't we start a blog a year ago?
Finally, the next issue of TalkHard is on the way. The articles are written, the cover is done, and we are laying out the issue as we speak. The latest issue should be kicking Austin in the face early March. I'll let you all know as soon as it comes out. It will be found at the usual places. Also, we are going to have a live reading of this issue, so if any of you out there in TV land want to participate, just let us know.
talkhardindustries@gmail.com
As soon as I learn more about how to lay out blogs, I will be uploading the old issues in their entirety for our readers to enjoy! More on this tomorrow, as I am going to bed soon.
Here is a sneak peak at the cover:
Rad, huh? Our buddy Trick designed it. Check out his website, tricktricky. Its in the links to the right.
Finally, the next issue of TalkHard is on the way. The articles are written, the cover is done, and we are laying out the issue as we speak. The latest issue should be kicking Austin in the face early March. I'll let you all know as soon as it comes out. It will be found at the usual places. Also, we are going to have a live reading of this issue, so if any of you out there in TV land want to participate, just let us know.
talkhardindustries@gmail.com
As soon as I learn more about how to lay out blogs, I will be uploading the old issues in their entirety for our readers to enjoy! More on this tomorrow, as I am going to bed soon.
Here is a sneak peak at the cover:
Rad, huh? Our buddy Trick designed it. Check out his website, tricktricky. Its in the links to the right.
2/23/09
Oscar recap
So we were spectacularly wrong. But not about Winslet. or Ledger. Well kind of about Ledger.
How appropos that a movie about foreign poverty would win this year (economic crisis... what we inflicted on the world for eight years.. etc.). Congrats to all the Desi kids relegated to the back row. You should have all been sitting on Jolie's lap.
Diet Coke lost, though. I know that much.
Fucking PSHoffman in a beanie. That, ladies and gents, is how it's done.
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