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Stay Hungry. Stay FoolishThursday, February 12, 2009 by Nanette I’m planning to start a new series here next week, which I am calling Five By Friday. I won’t add the “hopefully”, but that always should be there anyway, as it’s all dependent on how much time I have and so on. Thing is, even when I do have time to go to this or that blog or website I’ve noticed that I always seem to gravitate to the same ones. And that’s okay - I like the sites I visit, which is why I visit them. There is so much more out there, though, and while I can’t visit all of them, I do want to get through a few. I think five new (to me) blogs or sites a week is doable. At first I plan to follow one random link from a blog I already visit - giving a sort of overview of the original site and also of the new one. And then a random link from that one to the next, and from there on, trying to leave at least one comment at each new site. For five days - so that it sort of winds up a “six degrees from” thing each week (if Kevin Bacon is in there somewhere, even better!). Well, that’s the plan anyway - we’ll see how it goes.
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Monday, February 09, 2009 What’s Happening Now, at Human Beams? by Nanette I’m glad you asked. The internet has grown in awesome - and, at times, bewildering - ways since we started on this journey. We now have better tools to communicate and be productive online and off, as well as ways to collaborate with those doing impressive and important work in all areas of social justice, in the farthest (and nearest) regions of the earth. More than that we, at Human Beams, have a new and exciting focus, a renewed purpose and a clear path forward into the next 10 years - or more! Since 1998, our award winning magazine has been bringing you articles from all over the world. In addition to shining light on human rights abuses, politics, the oppression and denigration of women and issues of poverty and injustice in all societies, we’ve tempted your taste buds with delicious recipes and satisfied your wanderlust with travel articles about places far off - and right next door. Not to mention our youth section! Okay, I’ll mention it. We’ve been fortunate to work with some amazing young people over the years, even pre-teens, who didn’t let their age get in the way of their determination to make a difference. We’ll still do all that in some form - please continue to send in your articles and proposals - but we need to do more. Over the next few weeks I’ll be detailing some of our plans and the changes being made - some up front, others behind the scenes. These notes (including this one) will go on all the landing pages of the site. Have questions, comments or have a particular interest in any area - front end or back end - and wish to participate? Drop me an email (nanette @ humanbeams dot com) and let’s talk.
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Tuesday, January 20, 2009 by Nanette
 I was going to liveblog the inauguration but when it came time to… I found I had little to say. Not to mention little time to say it in. Instead my time was split between sitting with my 85 year old mom, who was glued to the television coverage of the transition of power all day long, and taking care of my two grandkids, the younger of which was considerate enough to take a rare morning nap while the other one sat quietly. Another rarity. Perfect bookends. I still have no time and none of the quiet needed for the gathering of thoughts - that will come soon - but I did want to mark the day. (photo via Jack and Jill Politics)
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Saturday, January 26, 2008 We Will Do Anything To Win - But We Won’t Do THAT by Nanette (With apologies to Meatloaf. ) Oh how I wish that was the mantra of the Democratic Party. Unfortunately… I think it’s time to finally erase the "Democrat" designation from any part of my identity. I’ve resisted doing this for years, long after friends of mine made the leap, with the excuse that well, maybe next time it’ll be different. It never is, though, sadly. I sat down this morning to write about the primary in South Carolina (as I write this, the polls are still open so I know no results) and some of the language surrounding it, the tactics used there and leading up to it, and the Democratic primary and election in general. I had lots I wanted to say, indictments I wanted to make, predictions to entertain myself and others with and more ... but somehow I just don’t have the heart for it.
Theriomorph wrote about politics online and online politics last week (very interesting and thought provoking, as usual, go read). Her post reminded me of thinking I’ve done, off and on over the years, of how to more effectively use this tool we have - the internet, with its access to brilliant minds, varying experiences and its capabilities for coalition building worldwide, to bring about real, lasting change. I believe the window for figuring that out is a fairly short one. I’ve had some ideas that I think could help, only the way my brain works, I tend to see the end result, the big goal and what it could do, but am rather iffy on the little steps to get there. Still, that’s where the "wisdom of crowds" comes in. We don’t accomplish much by ourselves (especially me!) - even this site/magazine, which is not what it used to be and definitely not all it could be, would have probably just limped along as a thought had I not met Matthew, completely by chance, online. (And actually, I can’t remember how we met (it was about 10 years ago), as we didn’t hang out in the same places, or chat in the same rooms or anything.) And then all the others who have helped throughout the years, wonderful people all of them. Anyway, I plan to start writing about these ideas and thoughts, in the hopes that they might strike a spark in someone who can see the little steps, or who can see the beginning or the middle, and together we can figure out how all this can work. I’m going to build off of Theriomorph’s post, as well as things bfp and others have written that have embedded themselves in my mind but which I have been too distracted by other things to follow up on. I hope lots of people join the conversation here, at Theriomorph’s, at your own places (if you send me a link I will start a list of who is saying what), at bfp’s or wherever you want. (This post, by the way, is part of the Year of the Manatee (or The Manatee Uprising), which I will explain at another time.)
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Wednesday, December 19, 2007 The One You Feed: First Perceptions by Nanette One night I woke up and there were two wolves in my room, sitting beside my bed. Only, it wasn’t my bed, exactly - it was a pallet of sorts, piled with blankets. And it wasn’t my room. The low, warm light that filled the space cast shadows on what appeared to be walls of brownish earth or clay, very dry and solid. On the right a steep flight of stairs of this same packed and shaped mud, a wall on one side and no railing on the other, led upwards to the entrance. In descending these steps earlier, I remembered, I had been quite careful; I was anxious to escape all the noise and revelry above - even the memory of it blessedly fading with each step - but I didn’t want to fall. I was also very tired and the low bed set up against the back wall certainly looked inviting - it seemed to me that the most sensible thing to do was snuggle into the blankets and fall warmly and soundly asleep. So I did. And there I stayed until I heard growling, turned over and saw two wolves sitting by my bed. Looking at me. Well, that’s not quite true - they were both sitting, but only one wolf, the snarling and snapping one, was facing me. The other was calmly, even regally, staring far off into the distance.
As I was practically on the floor, when I sat up, crossed my legs and gathered a blanket over my shoulders, we - the wolves and I - were almost eye to eye. Strangely, I was not the least bit frightened. I divided my attention between the two; the one that was looking off into the distance was the more puzzling to me… there was nothing there that I could see, but whatever it was looking at was not close by. After a brief stare, it paid no attention at all to me, or to the other wolf - whereas that one, the fur on its neck ruffed and just continuously snapping and growling, baring its big teeth, never took its eyes off of me. We stayed in this tableau for minutes or days, nothing changing, just me and these improbable creatures, sharing whatever it was we were sharing. Lessons, perhaps. Then I woke up. For real, this time. Well! What do you do with a dream like that? It’s been about eight years now, and I’m still working on it. I’ve had help - later that same day I told a friend about the dream and he right away said, "Nanette… did you get the feeling that they were you?" That question surprised me because, no, it had not at all occurred to me that the wolves were me, or representative of me, in any way. I mean, canines! Growling ones, no less. If it had been wild felines, tigers or something, I could see it. Thinking it over, though - I am terrified of dogs that I don’t know (even little yipping nippers can get my heart racing if I come across them suddenly), yet I felt no fear at all with not only two large wild canines sitting by my bed, but with one in a very bad mood. So, maybe they were me. But, now what? I’ve thought of my friend’s question as, over the years, I’ve come across variations of this purported Cherokee legend, -
So, were the wolves me and if the dream was trying to tell me anything at all, was it this? Maybe. I’ve tried to fit this in with both the feelings in the dream and with my own personality (after all, who wants to say one knows more than an ancient wise person?) and I just can’t quite do it. It’s a wonderful legend and I can see truths - but, somehow, I’ve never felt that that’s it. The Explanation. Or, at least, that that was the end - of the dream or my lessons from it, so to speak. I had more thinking to do before I could come up with something that was a better fit. More on that in the next bit of navel gazing.
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Tuesday, December 04, 2007 Brilliant, But Maybe Not Too Bright by Nanette I dwell in possibility…
My mother thought the best place to be during one of Southern California’s rare electrical storms was high up in Hollywood Hills, on Laurel Canyon or Mulhulland Drive, parked in one of those clearings that overlook Los Angeles. (Unfortunately, my brother thought the best place to be was under the bed, with blankets piled up to block any openings and all the curtains tightly drawn across the windows.) Me, I had no more sense than my mother (but a better excuse, being quite young). "Let’s go for a drive!" she’d announce, and I’d eagerly pile into Priscilla (our old Fiat), along with the blankets, sandwiches, Scooter Pies, beverages and my very reluctant brother and off we’d go. I couldn’t tell you the names of the streets, or the direction we traveled, but I recall the… sense, I guess it is, of the drives. Cities - at least that one - smell different in a new rain. The familiar smells are somehow made worse by the dampness, I suppose especially when there is just enough rain to wet, but not to clean. For some reason the sounds of the wet city fascinated us, though… my brother and I would press our faces to the windows in order to look out and especially to catch that special whoosh sound the tires of passing cars made on the wet pavement. Soon we’d be on quieter, less traveled streets and finally the narrow, winding turns that led up into the hills. The air was smelly there too, but very different smells - dense and ... green, maybe, the smell of all the trees and brush the lights of the car would swing over as we wound our way up. I wasn’t sure I liked it much better. Finally we’d turn into a little dirt clearing and park. And wait. If, as often happened, the storm passed us by, we’d just look at all the lights of the city and make up stories about who was down there, where the tiny headlights were going, what they were doing and what we were going to all do one day. That was fun enough, but if fortune smiled on us we really would catch the main event - the storm. We were lucky, maybe, that we were never electrocuted nor shoved over the cliff by the strong winds - I don’t recall having any fear of that at the time but looking back, our little outings don’t strike me as a very sensible thing to do. (Then again, the older I got, the more I realized how very little of how we lived and grew up was sensible or even "normal".) When we caught a good storm, the thunder felt like it was rattling our bones. It was worth it, though, to see the lightning strikes blazing across the sky, making even the bright city lights seem washed out and dim. I don’t know if our car was more rickety than most (probably), but the wind would shriek and the car would shake and shimmy, while we curled up with our blankets (my brother, strangely, was far less afraid of lightning storms while in the car - he had much belief in the rubber on the tires) and ohhh’d and ahhhh’d over the show being put on for us. And, too soon, the storm would pass on and the skies would clear a bit, and we’d head back home to our little apartment, to await the next adventure.
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Thursday, November 01, 2007 Let’s Start A Plumpy’nut Revolution by Nanette Today, even. It’s time, don’t you think? There are a great many things I cannot do. Positive thinking doesn’t affect them one whit. (Sad to say, unless you have far more power and influence than you’ve let on, you can’t do them either - if I have underestimated you, call me.) It’s time to change things up a bit and work on what I can do. This is not to say I believe that I (or we) should give up on working for and fighting for the things we believe in… ending the occupation, preventing the next war, ending racism, curing world hunger… Well, about that last. I (and you) really can have an effect on some things. Little things. Er… babies, to be exact. To start.
So what is a Plumpy’nut Revolution? A dream, a plan, a metaphor and, well… feeding babies. Did you see this?
My little graphic says “Join Today”, but you can’t click it, because there is nothing yet to join. The revolution is still in the planning stages and understanding where it is going and what it will take to get there will mean talking a bit more. You see, while it is The Plumpy’nut Revolution and it does have to do with Plumpy’nut, that’s not all. It’s just the beginning.
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Saturday, October 13, 2007 by Nanette I originally wrote this in Febuary of 2005 at one site, reposted it in 2006 at a different site and now have decided to post it here, this year. Maybe I’ll make it a yearly tradition ;). It’s very dated and I no longer have even a measure of belief in Democrats, but it’s not really about them. It’s more about how important it is that we stand up for one another. Of course the recent ENDA discussions are what made me think of this story, but it applies to so very many things. Additionally, it fits in with the “abundance vs scarcity” thoughts that I’ve been meaning to follow up on, so that’s a plus. I am leaving, below, the explanation to the second site for why I was posting it there, as well, cuz of the links and stuff. Soon the intros will be longer than the essay itself ;). In the midst of some of the brouhaha here lately, I told a story of an childhood incident that left a decided impression on me. I don’t tell that story to make anyone feel guilty, or to garner pity or anything… but for the lesson it taught me, that I’ve since tried to live up to. Ductape mentioned that I should make a diary of out it, but I didn’t really want to do that, and wasn’t sure how to anyway… but then I remembered… I already had, last year. I’m going to repost this here, even tho it’s a bit dated, just because it tells a bit of where I’m coming from. I hope others will also tell some of their experiences and lives and maybe we can reach some of this “convergence” that scribe described so beautifully. Anyway, here goes: I think of the era in which I grew up to be the best of times. Others…? Eh, they think of it as the opening of the floodgates of Hell. Yes… I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s, in California. Born in 1958, I am at the tail end of the Boomer Generation, so I was surrounded, from birth, by discussions of equality, challenging authority, challenging tradition, changing the world. Although I didn’t at the time realize the magnitude of the tragedies that were the deaths of John and Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, I shared in the sorrow because those around me were sorrowful. But not defeated. No cause depends on just one person, but is built up from the many individuals who decide that now is the time, enough is enough. My older brother was the hippie of the family and would bring all sorts of interesting people home. I spent hours listening to their discussions about war and peace, about justice and equality, overthrowing the establishment, building a new society and peace and love, man. I was too young to join them in their endeavors (and quite often, it seemed to me, some of them were too… chemically enhanced, let’s say, to do much of anything anyway), but I loved sitting in the corner and absorbing their thoughts and dreams. Did I ever thank those young men and women, not that much older than I was, for their idealism, their belief in the ability to create a better world, their willingness to protest and to fight for what they believed in? I know some of you are still around, still fighting the fight, leading the way, still dreaming and believing that change is possible. Thank you. The older I get the more I realize how unique my upbringing was in one respect, for that period of time. In our home we were raised to believe that “our kind” was humankind. Not just through meeting people of different cultures at school, or at events, or in books, but by having them a part of our lives. The known and loved faces of my childhood were Black, White, Mexican, Japanese, Italian, Irish, African, Indonesian, Gay, Straight and in between. Gatherings and parties at our house were like the UN, before the UN was cool. My mom - divorced single mother, business owner, with three children -didn’t join peace marches or organizations of any sort, that I can remember. What she did is live every day as an example, whether she knew it or not. I learned much just observing her kindness and courtesy to all individuals, regardless of their “station in life”; the respect she commanded just by respecting others, and recognizing the dignity and humanity in everyone, regardless of who they were. It was up to them to live up to that respect. Or not. She still treated them the same. It’s my belief that you can talk about tolerance to your children all you want, but it’s who you invite into your home and life that seals the lesson. For me, life was good. But as we know childhoods eventually end. Bigotry, hatred, racism are no respecter of age or reason. It’s pretty devastating when you are 10, and at a school friend’s apartment for a birthday/pool party, to have the apartment manager come racing out, screeching that you… and only you… must get out of the pool RIGHT NOW, we can’t have a Negro child in there or we will have to drain the entire thing! This was my first remembered encounter with the dreaded (but to be pitied) Ignorant Person my mother warned me about. And, I noticed, they were just as ugly as she said they would be. (Many things were tolerated in her household, but being an Ignorant Person wasn’t one of them). I still remember everyone gathering around me, back in the apartment, as I sat shivering on the couch, not from cold. They apologized for the manager, but explained that of course I would understand if everyone carried on swimming without me, here there are books and a TV and we’ll be back soon. I nodded an agreement that I didn’t exactly feel, and watched them all walk away, out the door and back to the party. I think it was at that moment that I decided that if ever it came down to a choice of standing with someone against an injustice, or walking away, I would choose to stand, to the best of my ability. Sometimes I’ve failed over the years, made the wrong decisions, taken the easy way out. More times, though, I have been fortunate enough to have the courage make that stand, even when it would have been easier or more comfortable to walk away. This, to me, is part of the essence of liberalism. I love being a liberal. Sometimes I even love being a Democrat. We’re not in the least bit perfect, thank the gods. We debate things to death, go to bed thinking we’ve done a good job, wake up with a new outlook on the matter and debate it all over again. We have that blessedly cursed ability to see many sides of an issue; forget just shades of gray… someone usually throws some fuchsia and lime green in just to make sure we have everything covered. We tried so very hard in 2004 to walk lock-step, which is basically antithetical to our nature. But boy, did we try. The wildly beautiful discordance of our multitude of voices attempting to sing the same song (often to distinctly different music), will not soon be forgotten. Nor should it. We accomplished much, if not what we most wanted. We are still more than they ever will be. There is great beauty in our variety. To me, conservatives are dull monochromatic creatures (vultures, maybe?), while liberals, progressives, Democrats… we range from fierce hawks, to brilliantly hued and flamboyant tropical creatures, to the softest, most helpless tiny warblers. I wouldn’t have it any other way. We stand up for all, are made up of all. Right after the election, in the midst of anger and grief and recriminations, when we are still being beaten about the head daily with words flung by pundits, prognosticators and charlatans masquerading as the godly—“It was gay marriage. It was Hollywood, it was atheists, it was a documentary, it was him, it was her, it was you, it was whatever I want you to believe it was no matter what…blame them, they lost the election for you.” - we’ve done what we do best. We’ve talked, we’ve debated, argued, planned, searched our policies, our souls and Google; should we retool, refit, reform, get religion, make a new presentation, wrap a package up differently, embrace the middle, move left, move right, yell, whisper, march, organize, or simply pull the covers over our heads and wait it out. What we didn’t do… except for a very few… is say, “Let’s walk away, we can still have our party without them.” I love our principles. I love standing with people who realize that “equal rights for me, but not for you” is an unacceptable contradiction. Who believe that justice should be more than just a word carved on a courthouse wall. Who believe helping those with the least among is us not only a good thing, but also the right thing to do. That, regardless of your political persuasion, you should have a vote, and that your vote should count. That our actions should a true reflection of our ideals, not just phony posturing. That torture is not a moral value. I love most of all that while we necessarily squabble and debate, pull in opposite directions in an effort to reach the same destination, argue passionately and forgive wholeheartedly, and probably always will, that the debate is over how best to achieve our goals and stand up for ourselves and others. Not whether to stand up at all.
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Tuesday, October 02, 2007 by Nanette Impossibly soft, and very fat.  2 days old. Click for larger version.
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Tuesday, September 11, 2007 Abundance, Scarcity and The Milky Way by Nanette The words are evocative in themselves. Scarcity. Small, spare, quickly ended, hoarding sound and movement - the final syllables almost blending together in their rush to get out and get it over with. Abundance. Full and round, rising and falling, this one needs your participation, to the extent that you are able, to the very end - where you must give it that last push and actively disengage in order to let it go. And then there is Theriomorph. Which is also fun to both say and visualize, but she does much more than play with words. She has taken the two concepts above and expanded on them as models for living and/or operating, in a thought provoking four part series posted at Chris Clarke’s, where she was guest blogging the past few days. It’s actually a five part series, in my mind, because until I read the post that began it all, the series itself was a little confusing for me. I could understand very well what she was saying, but, for some reason - most likely unfamiliarity with the writer herself - until I knew why she was saying it, it was difficult for me to know how to respond. Anyway, first off here is her series - none of the posts are very long, so it’s quick reading, but they are full, so much thinking: The post that kicked off the request for the series: The series. I love talking about this stuff and attempting to figure out how these concepts, and ones like them, can work on a practical, wide-spread basis on the left. I’m not really going to talk about that, though, or directly about Theriomorph’s series at all -I don’t think, anyway. Strangely enough, this series, combined with two posts of Chris’... one just a photo and a comment on it, and the other about caring for elderly relatives, as well as (yet another) asinine post by a major feminist blogger all got me thinking about abundance and scarcity, of course, and feminism, being considered part of a class, actually having class… and my mom. You see, one reason Theriomorph’s series both fascinated and puzzled me is my mom has lived her life under the abundance model.
Yes. Like that. I should give a little background. Continue Reading Abundance, Scarcity and The Milky Way
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Monday, August 20, 2007 by Nanette We are still a little unsettled here - in stasis, you might say. Or - how can I resist? - in a cocoon. I’d hoped to have things in place by the beginning of September, but that’s not going to happen. It actually could - the mechanics of putting together a site or a magazine, gathering together the stories, seeking out new voices and following the steps in a plan is how things usually get done, and that hasn’t changed. No, the plan is there… what is missing - or, rather, what I am missing - is the drive, fire and excitement to actually bring things together. Should I be talking about this “out loud”, so to speak? I don’t see why not. We’ve been in operation for a number of years and I think our readers, as well as those that just surf through, should know what is going on and why. Besides, it is not gone forever, this I know - right now, for whatever reason, it’s just quiet for a time. Oh, but about that butterfly… Anyone who has clicked on the pictures arrayed across the top of the site (front page) will notice that they don’t, as yet, lead anywhere. They might not ever do so, actually, as at the time I made them, they were a substitute for words. Each one tells a story and serves as a reminder to me of who, what, when, where and why. Sort of.
I thought I had lots more to say about this, but I don’t. Not much, anyway, at least right now. Because, for all the talking there is in the world, there really is only one thing to do, no? Be the butterfly.
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Wednesday, July 25, 2007 by Nanette I decided that it would be even better if I put a copy of the calendar thingy online, so that I… and anyone, sigh, could follow the progress of my X’s. (details here) basic idea - get a big wall calendar that has a whole year on one page and hang it on a prominent wall ... put a red X over each day I do my task of writing (and whatever else I set for myself, for the day). Soon one will have an unbroken chain of red X's (ideally!). This is a replica of the hand drawn calendar thing hanging on my wall. Neither one is pretty, but at least this one's lines are straighter.
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Tuesday, July 24, 2007 by Nanette One more step on the road to being organized, productive and on top of everything. Only 825,000 steps to go! I was reading Lifehacker this morning and came across this post from someone who had received productivity advice from Jerry Seinfeld. Now, I’ve never been much into Seinfeld (comic or TV show) but the advice thing… this just might work!
(read the rest - more there, including how it’s worked out for the author of the piece) Once the chain gets going, the focus becomes on not breaking the chain - this works because even many professional writers say to just write every day, even if you don’t want to, and even if you think what you just wrote is junk, just keep doing it. And, eventually, it does become a habit, something that you just do every day, as necessary as having that morning cup of coffee. Or tea. Or whatever you personally need in the morning. So, that’s what I’m going to do. I took a half poster board and drew a grid on it, making sure every square has a date in it - no empties for weekends or anything. I was able to get about 3 and a half months on one board, which means that I will have a pretty big chain once it is complete. It’s not just for writing, of course, because I am not primarily a writer, but also for design, for editing and other things… A plan for each day (which includes writing, no matter what) that I email to a friend so that someone else knows about it besides me, and earning my red X only once that plan has been executed for the day. Sounds good to me! Mind you… true to my procrastinator nature and without even thinking about it, the first date I put on my calendar is tomorrow’s. Heh.
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Wednesday, July 04, 2007 Stray Thoughts and Confessions by Nanette Notes on life. Stray thoughts will be added as they occur. Just assume. I have lived all my life in the US and have never owned an American flag. Or any other country’s, for that matter. Although they sometimes may come in handy. Oh say, can you see…
My friend Geoff thinks we should all have national flowers, instead. “Rally ‘round the bouquet, boys!” doesn’t have quite the same militaristic ring to it… I read too much and write too little. I do not much like Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton, but if either is the nominee for the US presidency, I will probably vote for them. For both, but definitely for Obama, I would also drag along my family, especially bringing the small persons in to watch. And, if the nominee wins, spend the rest of my life explaining to the small people that even though I voted for the first Black man or White woman because it was an historic election, I would have to live with my complicity in whatever godawful thing they decided to do as president. I lack the patience of my younger years, when I would spend hours facilitating discussion between various people and helping to explain diverse people to one another. Now I just want to smack everyone involved. Non-violently, of course It infuriates me when people try to blame the ills of society on black babies. Or brown ones or yellow or red or white ones, for that matter. The babies aren’t the problem.
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Sunday, July 01, 2007 Redesign, Editorial Boards and General Chatter by Nanette I think I need a secretary. Or maybe a ghost writer. Okay, so I’m not so good at this writing daily thing but that doesn’t mean nothing has been going on. It just means that I’ve been remiss in telling everyone about it. One reason for that is that I really do not much like writing, at least in a formal manner, and I’m not very good at it. So, I’m just going to type. What is easy for me is imagining and re-imagining - although as far as Human Beams goes, it’s not really re-imagining. It’s learning to trust the first instincts and goals that were envisioned in the beginning almost ten years ago; learning to like - or at least endure - the sound of my own voice, whether in an article, a blog post or on a tape recorder, because I sometimes have what I think are important things to say and no one will hear them if I don’t say them; and always remembering where we are headed. And why. We’ll get to that. I had intended this to be about, well… what HB is all about - and I will eventually write that up, but, apparently, not just yet. For now I’ll just mention that, yes, we are going to have at least a front page re-design and will be introducing new areas and new ways for people to participate in the site. I may have mentioned that we are going to be putting out print editions? If not, we are… sort of in a different way from most magazines though, I suspect. By the way, doing the layout and design for print will be Mark Greene of Avant5 Multimedia. We’ll also be opening up the site to sponsors and advertisers, also with a bit of a twist, though. I’m afraid I’m too commie pinko feminist socialist to just have ads willy nilly, plus I would like for small sites to be able to participate in them as well, so the set up will be a bit different. I’ll be writing about these things too, as time goes on (and we have the page done where people can sign up). One of the most important new areas will be the editorial boards, though. While we will have a core, permanent editorial board, there will also be issue and topic specific editorial boards (all volunteers and interns, at the moment). It’s amazing how much collective knowledge is sometimes held even within a small group of people. We don’t have the sign up page for that (or for just being involved in general) yet, but anyone who has questions or interest can just email me at nanette twirlythingy humanbeams dot com . That’s all for now. |
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And you know what? I’ve decided that’s okay - because, while who is president of the US and which party controls the congress, which laws are made or, more importantly these days, upheld and followed by those in the highest office, and who appoints the Supreme Court members… while all of that does matter, it’s not the be all that ends all. And it’s not there that real changes get made. Not the deep, structural changes anyway. That takes more than laws and much more than politicians and more than doing the same old things in the same old ways. 
Now then, never having planned a revolution before, I’m a little unsure how to go about it. But, that’s okay! I will no doubt learn as I go along and as other, more experienced, revolutionaries join the cause. First, I imagine, is defining just what the revolution is about and what the cause is, no? Then comes the strategizing and implementation. And, having already done all my mid-life crisis moaning, indecisiveness, longing for something different and meaningful and all that in full view, might as well figure out the strategery there too. 
You know that 
