<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288</id><updated>2009-09-09T09:05:34.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>listen to the music playing in your head</title><subtitle type='html'>cause lord only knows it's getting late;

your censors are gone so don't you hesitate.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-112707912105733545</id><published>2005-09-18T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T14:32:01.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i fixed the archive section on my blog, so the links work now.  in case anyone was wondering.  that is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-112707912105733545?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/112707912105733545/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=112707912105733545' title='11 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/112707912105733545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/112707912105733545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-fixed-archive-section-on-my-blog-so.html' title=''/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-112562325967643323</id><published>2005-09-01T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T18:07:39.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a tragedy in kind</title><content type='html'>In the wake of what has been the worst natural disaster to come to the U.S. in our living-memories, it's difficult not to stay glued to the TV and bury our noses in the newspaper (for those of us on a cable-free diet due to underfed bank accounts). This is a tragedy that deserves our attention, as its victims do our support on all fronts, particularly economic, political, and moral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I fear that this country as a governing entity under the leadership of the Bush administration has spent the last 4 years, not to mention the last 4 days, undermining its ability to do exactly this, both as a matter of fact and of precedent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Economically speaking, the Bush administration has depleted our resources in the Iraq war with an eye towards its own imperialist agenda. The war was waged by a group of men seeking to benefit financially on an individual level, exercising an inhumanitarian version of free market capitalism that bred international scrutiny, fueled domestic distrust, and most notably from an economic standpoint, cost quite a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President Bush has repeatedly recited in Rovian verse that invading Iraq was an effort to make America safer. If he truly believed this--all green-eyed-oil-tycoon-monsters to the wayside-- he would take this opportunity to reflect on the fact that his war in Iraq will now bear consequence not only on the lives of soldiers overseas, but on the welfare of New Orleans. Furthermore, his irresponsible tax policies have cost the federal government revenue money that could have contributed to a more responsible relief effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To put it more bluntly and at the risk of callously equating money and American lives (a compromise that Mr. Bush has proved willing to make anyways), I venture to say that the victims of Katrina would have been better off had this tragedy occurred under the years of budgetary surplus under the Clinton administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to these economic considerations regarding both foreign and domestic policy, President Bush has wasted valuable political capital fighting an unpopular war. As we face the biggest local disaster since the events of 9/11, Bush has, as Francis Fukayama suggests, begun to erode even his own political base (to say nothing of alienating half the country) in a war that may very well end up badly: we have more to fear than a Vietnam-esque quagmire as we bring Iraq to the brink of civil war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do these crippling foreign policy judgments affect the people not of the global middle east but of the American South? If a country's leader cannot be expected to responsibly react to an attack on American lives by external forces, how can he be trusted to respond reiliably to a natural disaster that similarly amounts to massive human casualty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amount of faith we have in our leaders is of historical importance to this country and to all countries today and in the history of the modern nation-state. Bush has left us without a leader we can trust and rely on, and this condition cannot and should not be understated. This brings us to our moral responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a country where "morals" have become "issues," the question of lending a helping hand to a neighbor in crisis should be a no-brainer. The reaction of Texas towards the victims of the hurricane is both laudable and to be expected. The thousands upon thousands of American citizens deserve our most conscientious hospitality in their time of need and suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't believe this is simply an American moral tradition or patriotic reaction; this is a historically human responsibility. When our neighbors are desperate, when their children's' access to education is infringed upon, when they seek healthcare and lodging and money and hospitality, we must meet their needs. We must meet these needs not because they are American values but because they are the needs of humanity, and we can help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is to be expected then, that these people in need get a deserved &lt;a href="http://msnbc.msn.com/id/9160993/"&gt;Texas-style welcome  &lt;/a&gt;(MSNBC). But this hospitality is undermined by a history of American inhospitality to the suffering. When the victims are not American and the tragedy was not a hurricane, Texans, Californians, New Mexicans, and the rest have a history of not only turning a blind eye to neighbors in need, but insisting on their &lt;a href="http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/topstory2/3322753"&gt;persecution&lt;/a&gt; (Houston chronicle).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fibers of our humanity that encourage us to support American victims seems to &lt;a href="http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-profile27jun27,1,3272271.story"&gt;disintegrate &lt;/a&gt;in the context of a caustic debate on illegal immigration (LA Times). While the response to international disaster of some U.S. citizens may have been noteworthy at the time of the tsunami, we have a tendency to renege on our moral commitment to ending human suffering when we look through this immigration lens. It's dehumanizing and amoral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When taken in the context of this immigration debate, our moral commitment to victims of tragedy is vulnerable. The U.S. has a history of racial oppression; of this everyone is aware, and most will readily denounce it. Yet the underlying fabric of society is less willing to unilaterally expel this racial and social inequity from our dialogue and our practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/01/opinion/01brooks.html?n=Top%2fOpinion%2fEditorials%20and%20Op%2dEd%2fOp%2dEd"&gt;David Brooks&lt;/a&gt; points to this reality in the wake of Katrina: "Take a close look at the people you see wandering, devastated, around New Orleans: they are predominantly black and poor." Our history of inhospitality over our borders has set a dangerous precedent concerning the question of exactly whom we are willing to welcome and for how long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In time, this moral uncertainty may play an important role in determining who bears the long-term burden of this tragedy. A human need is a human need, but we have a history of picking and choosing just whose needs we believe are important enough to satisfy. This dangerous precedent serves to shake the moral foundation we now attempt to provide for New Orleans' victims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately, Americans are going to do their very best, at least at first, to help those that Katrina has devastated. It is not a question of economic, political or moral bad intention. Rather though, I believe that there is always an opportunity to improve on our methods and our capacity to do good. Here, the economic policy, political irresponsibility and moral malfeasance do come into play in a significant way. We should have been better prepared; this preparedness goes beyond cots and canned food, and becomes a question of our country's moral ideology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-112562325967643323?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/112562325967643323/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=112562325967643323' title='4 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/112562325967643323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/112562325967643323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/09/tragedy-in-kind.html' title='a tragedy in kind'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-112199304659940746</id><published>2005-07-21T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T23:37:23.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you're still young, that's your fault</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2523/360/1600/june%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2523/360/320/june%20009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's moving day.&lt;br /&gt;and this is how bad i don't wanna: momentarily breaking the update silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in lieu of recent political developments, it's easy for americans (myself included) to forget about the big picture. bob hertbert &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/21/opinion/21herbert.html?"&gt;reminds us.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a similar note, i've been taking a human rights class this summer, and had the opportunity to hear a rwandan professor of international law from the university of kigali and a professor from the university of iowa who survived the kamer rouge killing fields (forced into child labor at age 6) share their knowledge and experiences. more &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/21/international/africa/21sudan.html"&gt;perspective&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that i'm hooked up with a &lt;a href="http://www.saddlepointsystems.com/"&gt;job&lt;/a&gt;, i've had the opportunity to get to know some of my wonderful coworkers a little.  check out sandra's band, &lt;a href="http://www.thebellyachers.com/"&gt;the bellyachers&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the beck show was a good idea. as per above, i am rolling in the money and can afford expenditures like concerts, a maid service, and blockbuster/elephant pharmacy/hollywood video fines. ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh so i finally saw pulp fiction (coincidentally a good description for what this entry has degenerated into). i would like to go on the record and be man enough to admit that i was wrong for being hesitant all those years: the movie kicked ass. (the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B000002OTL/qid=1121992798/sr=8-2/ref=pd_bbs_sbs_2/102-4071365-9266554?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;soundtrack&lt;/a&gt;?!) so as the last person on earth to love this movie who wasn't born later than yesterday, i announce my fanhood. ship. dome. ehhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to be in LA on the weekend of august 6/7. if you're around, let me know. here i should say that you can't call me because my wallet/phone were stolen in an unfortunate incident during an otherwise enjoyable evening at an oakland house party. so call my apartme...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i'm moving, so in 2 days i'll be completely unavailable to phone calls of any kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i should actually go move now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.&lt;br /&gt;which 103 &lt;a href="http://history.berkeley.edu/undergraduate/courses/fall2005/103.html"&gt;seminar &lt;/a&gt;should i take?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-112199304659940746?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/112199304659940746/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=112199304659940746' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/112199304659940746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/112199304659940746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/07/youre-still-young-thats-your-fault.html' title='you&apos;re still young, that&apos;s your fault'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-111362003671341782</id><published>2005-04-15T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T19:53:56.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>graduation time</title><content type='html'>you know how old people have those stories about when they were in college and how hardcore and poor they were that they survived off of bread, peanut butter, and spam for a year?&lt;br /&gt;here's my list of what i've been eating lately:&lt;br /&gt;-stale crackers&lt;br /&gt;-crusty chcolate frosting from a cake we made when we had money and food.  months ago.&lt;br /&gt;-cereal crumbs (no milk)&lt;br /&gt;-pop corn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kelly's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a list of what i've been listening to lately:&lt;br /&gt;-gladys knight&lt;br /&gt;-john lennon&lt;br /&gt;-beck&lt;br /&gt;-the libertines&lt;br /&gt;-the brazilian girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a list of what i've been thinking about lately:&lt;br /&gt;-heisenberg's uncertainty principle&lt;br /&gt;-EAP application... check.&lt;br /&gt;-why "sauve qui peut (la vie)" has so much porn in it&lt;br /&gt;-eating fruits and vegetables&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a list of what i plan on doing this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a list of what you should be doing instead of reading this:&lt;br /&gt;-calling your mother&lt;br /&gt;-getting smart&lt;br /&gt;-getting silly&lt;br /&gt;-getting some&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my apologies for lame entries and lack of updates, but i'm really not very interesting.  you should call me, and then we can fix that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;adriana's quote of the week is too dirty to post in case my brother reads this.  (if he does, hey austin.  if not, but your name is austin, you can take that as being directed at you if you're so inclined.  otherwise, consider this paranthetical comment a waste of everyone's time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, the elementary school is censoring my brother and not letting him play a tame version of "american idiot" for his 6th grade talent show.  also they cut out a girls' hip hop dance number for doing nothing wrong.  all this according to my mom who is helping run the thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone take it easy this weekend; i know all about your crazy ways, and so does big brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy april 15th.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-111362003671341782?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/111362003671341782/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=111362003671341782' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/111362003671341782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/111362003671341782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/04/graduation-time.html' title='graduation time'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110970126280557840</id><published>2005-03-01T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T10:24:02.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>can you believe it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://a257.g.akamaitech.net/7/257/2422/01mar20051115/www.supremecourtus.gov/opinions/04pdf/03-633.pdf"&gt;alright now.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110970126280557840?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110970126280557840/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110970126280557840' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110970126280557840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110970126280557840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/03/can-you-believe-it.html' title='can you &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.reuters.com/newsArticle.jhtml?type=topNews&amp;storyID=7774532&quot;&gt;believe&lt;/a&gt; it?'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110958243464323323</id><published>2005-02-28T01:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T01:30:50.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>are you in the club?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/P1010022.JPG&gt;&lt;br /&gt;homemade twinkie, image c/o &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/brigwidab/"&gt;brigitte&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nervous breakdowns can only be cured by-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:08:29 AM): ill write stories about kittens with no hind legs&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:08:42 AM): who learned to walk again with the saving power they found in faith in jesus christ&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:08:59 AM): and women with no uteruses who thought they couldn't conceive&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:09:00 AM): hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:09:06 AM): but whose husbands carreid for them.&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:09:13 AM): will suddenly be fat with child&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:09:18 AM): LOL&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:09:23 AM): what an excellent expression&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:09:24 AM): fat with child&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:09:26 AM): haha&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:09:33 AM): im laughing still&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:09:50 AM): that's not in the bible?&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:09:53 AM): haha&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:10:03 AM): mary and shit?&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:10:10 AM): mary... fat with child?&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:10:13 AM): no?&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:10:20 AM): lol&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:10:25 AM): i guess i am confused&lt;br /&gt;mambo17ck (1:10:30 AM): i should review my scripture&lt;br /&gt;starfishy5 (1:10:36 AM): i believe the expression they used was " thick and round and ready to pop"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110958243464323323?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110958243464323323/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110958243464323323' title='4 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110958243464323323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110958243464323323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/02/are-you-in-club.html' title='are you in the club?'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110937973913346741</id><published>2005-02-25T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T10:38:19.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>every little thing's gonna be alright</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/umbrella.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the last few times i've updated i've begun with an attempt to write about the experience i had thursday night when i went to see gilberto gil speak for free at wheeler auditorium. but after i started using phrases like "freaking incredible," "indescribably cool," and "totally sweet" (well maybe not that last one), i decided i better not unearth an entry filled with such articulate description until i know what the hell i'm trying to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more than a week later i'm still inclined to give up, but so it goes. being that my memory is exquisitely bad and seems to only get worse with each passing year, i should probably write something before i forget the thing entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clas.berkeley.edu:7001/Events/spring2005/02-17-05-gil/index.html"&gt;gilberto gil&lt;/a&gt;, ("g" like "gesticulate") in case you don't know, is a brazilian folk/pop singer/songwriter/guitarist/etc popularized in the 1960s and 70s for his brilliant and influential tropicalia music. socially and politically conscious throughout his artistic career, he made the leap to governmental service in 2003 when he became brazil's first minister of culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the presentation gil made was a blend of exploration of the brazilian culture, economic development, social utopia, and persistent reality. in his soft voice and musical portuguese cadence, he outlined aspects of his policies and ideals to an audience that seemed to trust his propositions as a policymaker on the basis of his accomplishments as an artist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gilberto gil's analyses are not easy to understand, but his vision isn't hard to imagine. he believes that in a world economy encountering its "fourth wave of globalization," there is an unspoken demand for new cultural models and policies. his goal, in a certain sense, is to put his voice (famous throughout the world) to the value of creativity. according to gil, the creative economy can only provide sustainable development when derived from cultural diversity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the idea is to study the culture of economics and the economics of culture; that these two domains are inextricably related in the developing world; that these two domains can both feed and be fed by one another. in a market already infiltrated by creative industries like music, film, broadcasting, television, and internet, gil calls for an unfettered access to these rising commodities, in order to provide financial and economic opportunities for countries and their citizens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thus gil encourages not the monopoly of these industries by any investor or government, but an equal distribution of this access. the market must be globalized equally, both socially and economically. the measurement of success will be the only thing by which we CAN measure success: the quality of human life. in his spirit of positivism he announces, "utopia? yes! we still need it! we still need it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is this idealism that makes gil's program so palatable. rather than dismissing artistic and cultural exploration as a subset or offshoot of society's interests, he puts it on the field of more readily accepted players: economics, politics, market development. natural resources and diversity are the basis for any sustainable investment, gilberto claims. so why not include culture as an acceptable form of this brand of capital?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yet it is not gil's intention to exploit or objectify culture. instead, he intends to use it as a means of feeding hungry societies both economically and creatively. mobilization of developing countries will allow for the promotion of such creative economies. in this way, the ministry of culture intends to "massage the sleeping points" of brazilian society, thereby stimulating its weaknesses and putting its "natural resources" to use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the program minister gil outlines to do this goes by the characteristically vibrant and optimistic name "Life Culture." already in place in over 200 different points around brazil, "life culture" currently employs around 50,000 brazilian youths--and the numbers are rising. the program has three major functions: 1. to manufacture symbols of growth and hope 2. to promote sustainable economic development 3. to emphasize the equal rights and citizenship of every brazilian. the program is aimed specifically at socially vulnerable areas as a way of inducing development and socio-economic progress from a cultural standpoint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;according to gil, the program is to be run locally by community involvement, making the people both the users and the moderators of the system. the system itself essentially provides access to whatever culturally-inducing "stuff" that the local community deems appropriate, from musical instruments and equipment to recording studios to theatres to art supplies and galleries. the overriding principle is that the production and distribution of culture will diffuse socio-economic tension in the area, improve the individual and communal quality of life, and provide non-discriminatory (or even positively discriminative) access.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a program like "life culture" is laced with the utopian idealism by which gilberto gil has lived his life. undeterred by arrests for his revolutionary music-making, he has forged a path that so many of his musical followers have been able to follow. appropriately, his progressive music is matched by his political ambition. his positive outlook is because he sees in his vision sustainable improvement. in the 21st century, where uncertainty and cynicism are central to a "modernized" world-view, gil's idealism is not quaint or even refreshing; it is requisite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when he finally stepped down from his podium to serenade the audience on guitar (gracing us with the legendary "aquele abraco," bob marley's "three little birds" and others), he radiated the optimism that he preached. he even inspired joan baez to hop on stage and begin dancing to his "sweet songs." i couldn't help but think that this is a man who has lived a life worthy of his own convictions. for someone like him, it's not just about his talent or his brilliance, but his capacity to share, influence and inspire. he is some kind of "life culture."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110937973913346741?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110937973913346741/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110937973913346741' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110937973913346741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110937973913346741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/02/every-little-things-gonna-be-alright.html' title='every little thing&apos;s gonna be alright'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110932343860444020</id><published>2005-02-25T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T01:23:58.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happiest birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/adirana.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;adriana is an old hag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, we're not bad friends--we actually wanted to bake a cake... but she's "not big on sweets," and this was the midnight celebration. so an apple it was.  our girl's 20 and she wears better than anyone.  really, i think she's been 20 something for the last 10 years, so this is old hat for the pro.  she'll kill me if i write a lot so i'll just leave it there.  best tostadas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110932343860444020?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110932343860444020/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110932343860444020' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110932343860444020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110932343860444020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/02/happiest-birthday.html' title='happiest birthday'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110914297572179123</id><published>2005-02-22T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T23:28:19.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>reverse-chronologically speaking.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/jan%202005%20049B.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brothers (clones?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/jan%202005%20043B.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pants will dry from rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/jan%202005%20062B.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not chicago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/christmas%20in%20chicago%20002B.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chicago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://webdisk.berkeley.edu/~caitlynk/December%202%2C%202004%20010B.jpg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lali puna, december 04&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the highlights/low-lights/no-lights/pants of december 04 and january 05.&lt;br /&gt;february coming soon.&lt;br /&gt;thanks kris.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110914297572179123?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110914297572179123/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110914297572179123' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110914297572179123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110914297572179123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/02/reverse-chronologically-sp_110914297572179123.html' title='reverse-chronologically speaking.'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110742156121261231</id><published>2005-02-03T01:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T01:10:43.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- &lt;br 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href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110742156121261231' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110742156121261231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110742156121261231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110741733342365881</id><published>2005-02-02T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-02T23:55:33.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for the faint at heart</title><content type='html'>ok this is going to be kind of schmaltzy, so if you're not in the mood, skip to the bottom or see previous entries laced with cynicism/misanthropy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i was at strada being productive and all (and being attacked by the wind) and this guy was sitting next to me with his buddy.  they were talking about "chicks" and it was all very i'm-a-freshman-in-college-and-it's-time-for-me-to-get-some-life-experience that we've all grown to care so much about/have been instructed to care about by pop culture.  anyway, the one guy was going on and on about this girl form his dorm, how hot she was, how he's never been attracted to anyone outside his race before, how he wanted to ask her out, how he was pretty sure she'd turn him down.  then i forgot all about him until i was walking to my history of physics class (oh, yes) and there he was putting some moves on who i can only assume to be the hot girl from his dorm.  (i guess they couldn't get started fast enough and decided to enjoy each other for all of memorial glade to see, but i'm not judging. hahaha.)  anyways, i guess it's just not every day that you get to see that kind of crap materialize between strangers in the span of a day, so it was something.  ok, i think i spent too much time outside today.  i actually fell asleep on a bench in the sun.   see what happens when i'm subjected to direct sunlight for an extended period of time?  i turn into a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we can't have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and i'm back on music, guys.  here's the song i need:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;but she was not my kind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;or even of my sigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the kind of animal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that i would be about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you keep hangin’ round me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and i’m not so glad you found me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you’re still doing things that i gave up years ago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mhm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110741733342365881?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110741733342365881/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110741733342365881' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110741733342365881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110741733342365881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/02/for-faint-at-heart.html' title='for the faint at heart'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110682490308475475</id><published>2005-01-27T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T03:21:43.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's 3 AM so i should be asleep.</title><content type='html'>in alain resnais' feature film, &lt;a href="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/6302765579.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"&gt;"mon oncle d'amerique,"&lt;/a&gt; the question of human accountability is on scientific trial.  not the kind of &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/27/politics/27spin.html?oref=login"&gt;accountability&lt;/a&gt; that some of us are used to complaining about (and wow, do they hate him today), but a more basic, humanistic, philosophy-oriented accountability that explains not only human ambition in the contemporary sense, but human behavior since before we wrote stuff down.  to what do we owe the pleasure of our actions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we ask ourselves questions about what determines us as individuals,  non-psychologists point to the nature-nurture happy meal as evidence of their complex and sophisticated understanding of how that question can never be answered suficiently.  so why does resnais even bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the best thing about resnais' movie is it's lack of typical scientific decorum.  as non-experts, most "smart" artists would approach the subject matter with caution and remain composed and distant so as not to offend the sleeping giant of misrepresentation.  the other option is to massacre the science to unintelligibility.  lucky for the viewer, resnais has done neither.   without the viewer noticing it, resnais allows us to suspend our disbelief and enter into a world where humans behave like rats and people who fall in love don't always act with the self-restraint that perhaps they should.  oh, wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a movie about three ordinary people--jean, an ambitious, self-absorbed politician who strives to be on top; rene, a supervisor at a textile mill who struggles to keep his career afloat; and janine, the film's most sympathetic protagonist, who's emotional needs are out-maneuvered more than once--the struggles of the characters are as sympathetic to the audience as the people themselves.  and as this closeness emerges, we are allowed the opportunity to explore not just the psychee of jean, rene and janine, but the nature of the beast that is man himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without skipping a beat, resnais turns from character-oriented philosophy to subject-aimed science.   a rat, who learns fight or flight behavior from a pavlovian sound, is presented as analogous to humans, who act upon similar cerebral motivations: consumption, fight-flight, and inhibition.  in one case, the rat is kept in a cage that allows him a learned escape from electric shock; in the other, the shock is an inevitable consequence of his simply existing.  resnais' comparison is striking, but his conclusion about human objective is even more interesting: that man seeks a subjective domination of ones environment.  for this, we are accountable to our biological mechanisms that demand a programmed desire to conquer and mediate, and thus: nature over nurture.  but this is not the end of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with a film as complex as this one--three interconnected personal narratives, interrupted by a research psychologist, and montages of vision and sound that portray not characters, but droll, hurtful, lost, compromising, heroic and forgivable people--it is impossible to imagine that resnais would dare condense the human spirit into a mere projection of its cellular composition.  instead, he provides us with the possibility of personal growth.  as the rat learned to escape shock, the human mind can learn to escape itself through self-understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so humanism isn't out of style after all (at least it wasn't in 1981).  according to "mon oncle d'amerique," if we study the mind, we can begin to control its impulsive qualities--for even those that seem inhibatory and the least compulsive, are, by nature, networks of reactivity.  thus, in understanding what biology has given us, we can finally hold ourselves accountable for our actions.  the struggle to dominate our environment can coexist with the struggle to overcome our nature, but the latter will no longer drive the former.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110682490308475475?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110682490308475475/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110682490308475475' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110682490308475475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110682490308475475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/01/its-3-am-so-i-should-be-asleep.html' title='it&apos;s 3 AM so i should be asleep.'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110547698704581469</id><published>2005-01-11T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T12:56:27.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>step into my office</title><content type='html'>did anybody actually expect &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/10/politics/10Gingrich.html"&gt;this guy&lt;/a&gt; to dust off the old "aspirations"?  didn't he weep in 1998?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in case you havent heard, the white house is definitely doing everything it can to encourage U.S. contributions to the tsunami victims.  and &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A63896-2005Jan10.html"&gt;why not&lt;/a&gt; throw a kickass party &lt;a href="http://thedaily.washington.edu/opinion.lasso?-database=DailyWebSQL&amp;-table=Articles&amp;amp;-response=opinionpage.lasso&amp;-keyField=__Record_ID__&amp;amp;-keyValue=11413&amp;-search"&gt;while we're at it?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acccording to &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/1594200335/ref=sib_dp_pt/102-6217404-0140915#reader-link"&gt;t.r. reid&lt;/a&gt;, the norwegian government will hire a norwegian mother or father to care for her or his child in the first 2 years of its life, with a yearly salary as high as 80% of the individual's earned wages before going on leave; then the child can go to a state-run child care facility, also at the state's expense.  after the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0684824167/ref=sib_dp_pt/102-6217404-0140915#reader-link"&gt;amount of time&lt;/a&gt; it took the u.s. congress to pass the family and medical leave act, the u.s. will realize the european social model....oh... never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aand if you were planning on renting &lt;a href="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0002VEZ3U.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"&gt;a day without a mexican&lt;/a&gt;, i'll save you the trouble.  the rundown: 1.  simplistic, full of cliches that fail to be debunked, and self-defeating (ie, portrays mexican americans as fieldworkers and musicians and very little else)  2.  unnecessarily donnish, presuming that all viewers are geographically and culturally ignorant and need to be reminded of this  fact  dozens of times with hand written messages that interrupt the (weakass) plot every now and again.  3.  a mockumentary only works when your actors can act.  4.  too fucking long.  arau shouldn't have bothered expanding the original short.  5.  highly frustrating--a missed opportunity to say something important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pictures and higlights of winter break to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110547698704581469?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110547698704581469/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110547698704581469' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110547698704581469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110547698704581469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/01/step-into-my-office.html' title='step into my office'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110479303445422376</id><published>2005-01-03T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T00:59:46.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shimmy to the left</title><content type='html'>after weeks of being haggled, hastled, wrangled and otherwise pestered by friends (foes) to update blogmaster frederik i have decided to comply.  i haven't felt like updating, mostly to do with the fact that i'm quite lazy, partly to do with the fact that i have nothing to say and entirely to do with the fact that i haven't had internet access in chicago.  ha.  but enough stalling, let's get down to the entry, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i begin with a statement: i am so fucking sick of rock music.  yeah, that's right.  i, caitlyn, purported semi-conoisseur of the art form referred to in popular culutre as rock 'n' roll, am not only listening to it less and enjoying it hardly at all, but i am on the verge of sending my failing ipod in to be fixed without completing the painstaking job of writing down the soon-t0-be-erased music by hand, to be replaced as soon as possible (my computer's recent crash means no more music on my hard drive either).   and while my cd catelog is extensive enough that i won't be without a solid amount of listening material, years of acquisition--carefully, selectively, attentively building the collection--will be gone forever.  and the sense of impending loss is mild.  because i don't really like the bum stuff anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what brought on this recent rancor for all things rock?  i've been trying to figure it out.  for years i've been a self-proclaimed r/r junkie:  friends will tell you that my love for the beatles borders on an obsession; my parents bear unhappy witness to my paychecks spent at record stores as i take out loans to pay for rent and tuition; my brother has suffered the unfortunate task of enduring my "mentorship" as i try to inundate him with "good" rock music in his formative years.  and yet now i stare at my cd collection and scrole through my ipod disillusioned and disgusted.  what was once comforting has become mundane; excited solos seem overzealous as sentimentality digresses to maudlin.  i cringe at lyrics i once found inspiring and notice only the cracks in musical expression of rock stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've tried to remedy this attitude by going back to the classics, the stuff that first rooted me in the Sound.  i pull out early beatles albums, beach boys and talking heads.  i listen to favorites that have been played thousands of times on the way to class, in the car, in my room.  i try new music, listening to kcrw's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;morning becomes ecclectic&lt;/span&gt; in usual weekday morning form.  but nothing works.  it's like having an aversion to a favorite food (which, coincidentally has happened to me before... 4th grade saw me suddenly lost my taste for 1000 island salad dressing.  smelling the stuff is nauseating to this day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too much of a good thing.  cliches exist for  a reason.  could it really be that i've had more than i can handle?  has scoring music reviews in papers and on websites where every new band is the mesiah and evert ancient master a legend really hardened me?  is sudden distaste simply the result of loving so much this single thing that i can no longer position myself so close to it?  am i simply not up to it anymore?  do i not have it in me to be an eternal fan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i consider the fact that i've been frustrated listening to rock music for weeks now, i begin to worry.  what if the condition is permanant?  what if i can never regain those feelings of love and satisfaction?  maybe rock music is only the beginning.  in time, perhaps all types of music will be picked apart by my unsatisfied ears until only ancient gregorian chants or experimental 3 note symphonies will be of comfort to my ear.  if any of you have ever gone through this and come out alive, please, for the love of dios, tell me.  it's terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and still nothing.  a recent trip to amoeba would have normally left me in a quandary of having to choose only 3 albums from a top ten list of 15.  in berkeley there are dozens of post-its decorating my desk area with names of albums, bands and concert dates.  a trip to amoeba has always meant being able to make a dent in the endless list of rock music that i not only want but need.  instead i wandered the aisles &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;of used rock music &lt;/span&gt;aimlessly, picking up not a single rock cd out of interest.  i finally left with a blues purchase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this could very well be a pivotal moment in my music appreciation.  some day, looking back at my past as i sit aged and graying in a rocking chair in my NYC penthouse apartment, maybe i'll think back to the beginning of 2005 and remember it as the end of an era.   probably not.  at least, i hope not--if only for the investment i have made in music, posters, books, and of course, my time.  although if this really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;the end of my love affair with rock music, at least i'm happy to report that indeed, we had a good run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110479303445422376?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110479303445422376/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110479303445422376' title='3 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110479303445422376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110479303445422376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2005/01/shimmy-to-left.html' title='shimmy to the left'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110297265360325532</id><published>2004-12-13T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T13:17:33.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;brigitte gets a:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;с днем рождения.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20.  making people feel older since we started counting on our toes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110297265360325532?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110297265360325532/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110297265360325532' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110297265360325532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110297265360325532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/12/brigitte-gets.html' title=''/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110292618222461280</id><published>2004-12-13T01:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T00:23:02.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ain't nothing like talking to a priest...</title><content type='html'>...i lied.  bordeaux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110292618222461280?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110292618222461280/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110292618222461280' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110292618222461280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110292618222461280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/12/aint-nothing-like-talking-to-priest.html' title='ain&apos;t nothing like talking to a priest...'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110282474374414368</id><published>2004-12-11T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-11T20:12:23.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ay</title><content type='html'>ok.  so i'm changing my mind again.  paris.  last time, i swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110282474374414368?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110282474374414368/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110282474374414368' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110282474374414368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110282474374414368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/12/ay.html' title='ay'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110272656983885573</id><published>2004-12-10T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T16:56:09.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>combien de temps?</title><content type='html'>i kept putting off updating until i had something fantastic to say, but the more i wait, the more pressure i put on myself to write something cool.  so i'll keep this entry to a solid mediocre and just update on some life stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  been kind of freaking out about going to paris for a year lately... not cos i'm actually worried about being away for that long, but i really don't know if 2 semesters away is a good idea, esp since i spent so long figuring out my damn major.  this revelation just came about at around 3 am last night when i was tryint to fall asleep.  i only have til about monday to get my crap together if i want to do the year long paris program, so i really need to make a definitive decision this weekend.  we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  classes i'm taking next semester:&lt;br /&gt;     -french 170: french films&lt;br /&gt;     -history 181: modern physics (my dad will be so proud)&lt;br /&gt;     -history 171: soviet union, 1917--&gt;present&lt;br /&gt;     -history 167: 20th c. german history&lt;br /&gt;    i'm also thinking about adding an international relations class or french conversations class for pass no pass, but this schedule should keep me busy enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  plans for holiday break:&lt;br /&gt;     i'll finish my last final on the 17th, but i don't leave berkeley until the 21st, so if you're going to be bumming around the bay area, i'll be bored that weekend.&lt;br /&gt;     then i'm off directly to chicago until the 29th.  look forward to seeing family--and hopefully experiencing new parts of the city and spending some quality time independently... knowing my family, this is unlikely.&lt;br /&gt;      i'll be in santa clarita from the 29th til who knows when.  i want to do one fun thing like disneyland or maybe las vegas or san diego.  something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  chanukah/xmas money is tight this year, so expect a hug if i like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  3 days til brig's bday... she's going to be 20.  what a freak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  i'm listening to odelay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  american studies project was succesfully completed in a matter of hours yesterday... material from my blog was included because i'm lazy and i just need to pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that this entry sucked, i've taken the pressure off to make a good comeback.  hopefully better posts to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheers everyone,&lt;br /&gt;cait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110272656983885573?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110272656983885573/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110272656983885573' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110272656983885573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110272656983885573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/12/combien-de-temps.html' title='combien de temps?'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110110664516071775</id><published>2004-11-21T22:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T22:57:25.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/155/1391/640/bakelite%20phone%202.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #AAAAAA; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/155/1391/320/bakelite%20phone%202.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110110664516071775?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110110664516071775/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110110664516071775' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110110664516071775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110110664516071775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/class.html' title=''/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110110524848290311</id><published>2004-11-21T22:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T22:34:08.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you sit there and think about what you just said to your brother.</title><content type='html'>well.  i haven't updated in about 300 years because you know.  busy/important.  no, the truth is i just haven't cared to talk about anything in particular... or i'll get inspired at weird times of the day and then by the time i get here... you know how it goes.  right now pretty much the reason i'm updating is because it's the last thing on a list of many to keep distance between me and my french paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obviously though, this is a pointless entry, so since i just watched an episode of inside the actor's studio, i'll just leave it up to mr. james lipton to direct my line of thoughts with his famous questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. What is your favorite word?  right now it's the french word for "writer," which is "l'écrivain."  with &lt;em&gt;gusto&lt;/em&gt;.  but it changes all of the time cos i'm strangely fascinated by languages and etymology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02. What is your least favorite word?  "outfit."  you  know me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03. What turns you on?  the point at which one's natural talent and his own determination converge to make something totally original.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. What turns you off?  ignorance by design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05. What is your favorite curse word?  fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06. What sound or noise do you love? "here's your medium americano to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07. What sound or noise do you hate? when an oboe reed catches on some kind of fabric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? dance.  'twas a cruel twist of fate that i was born without any natural grace or coordination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09. What profession would you not like to do? supermarket manager.  there are some seriously angry stay at home moms out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?  he'd say to me, "i thought you'd be taller in person."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm listening to &lt;em&gt;blueberry boat&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110110524848290311?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110110524848290311/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110110524848290311' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110110524848290311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110110524848290311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/you-sit-there-and-think-about-what-you.html' title='you sit there and think about what you just said to your brother.'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-110005962267082029</id><published>2004-11-09T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T20:07:02.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>this might make you piss your pants</title><content type='html'>i'm sure that most of you don't take the time to visit the links i provide on my sidebar (some of which are pretty oudated), so i'm gonna make it easy and reproduce the funniest item of the week below, c/o the one and only &lt;a href="http://www.notsoprofundo.blogspot.com/"&gt;carl&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In response to our country's unashamed admission to the utmost importance of moral values, I propose this:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A complete de-pruding of the American public. We'll shock them all until we enjoy a European level of acceptance. It's fun and easy, here are just a few ideas!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK IN THE STREETS! At a certain time each day, we can all just go for it. Of course, we'll put those inclined to similar genitalia in the front of the orgy parade. Coast-to-coast nudity and copulation. From La Cienega to 5th Avenue, the streets'll be paved with, well, what the Sperm Banks consider liquid gold. Do it with a friend or use it as an opportunity to make new ones! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;GET DRUNK WITH YOUR PARENTS DAY! Bring Daddy's temper to show-and-tell! Impress your friends when you, as a 10 year old, win the local sake bomb contest. Let's show the Russians they can't do anything better than us, those commie fools! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;MULTICULTURAL HOMES (AND HOMOS) IN EVERY NEIGHBORHOOD! Two mommies, one black, one white, an asian girl, a latino boy. Scare the wits out of your conservative relatives as little José plays the violin and cute-as-a-bug's-ear Ling runs from the INS!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ISLAM DAY! Self-explanatory! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;LEGALIZE MARIJUANA, GAMBLING, AND PROSTITUTION! Celebrate your newly legal friends, those clandestine individuals who until now had to hide in the shadows. Flaunt your love of this country by getting high and having anonymous sex in casinos all across the union! This amazing legislation would deal hypocrisy a deadly blow! Write your Congressperson today! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;EQUIP AND TRAIN WILD GAME TO FIGHT BACK! Doe, a deer, a female ass-kicker. Do you smell what the endangered species are cookin? The conservatives want availability of guns, there's no reason why ducks and geese can't have assault rifles! It's definitely hunting season, my friends... this Thanksgiving, help a game animal to serve his family some roast "athlete."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if this isn't a list we can't all get behind, i don't know what is.  thanks carl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-110005962267082029?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/110005962267082029/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=110005962267082029' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110005962267082029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/110005962267082029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/this-might-make-you-piss-your-pants.html' title='this might make you piss your pants'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-109999048879074642</id><published>2004-11-08T00:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T01:07:25.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"god knows i want to break free..."</title><content type='html'>there's no easy access rejection button when it comes to friendships.  in reading that isolated  statement, you might perceive an objective, scientific tone.  you might think i'm just participating in some plain old observation--"the fact is, objectively speaking, heretofore, there is no easy access rejection button when it comes to friendships."  but nothing is ever as it seems in the world of blog-moi.  so i'll just tell you that my tone is exasperated, whiney and disheartened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because by design, the whole concept of a free society is, in part, the freedom to choose those with whom once wishes to as-sociates.  at least, that's the theory.  the reality is that friendships are not as easily dismissed as they should be.  AIM, email and cell phones have made this the case far more than it once was.  the good old days when one could simply hide under the bed, at your friend's house, or in a neighboring country are no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a blunter person, rejecting a friendship is probably not such a difficult thing.  these are the people who can get through a day without feeling bad about saying the wrong thing to the bus driver, the coffee guy, the GSI.  there's nothing wrong with these people; au contraire, i commend them for their honesty and their confidence.  i only wish i had the constitution to be so truthful about these matters.  but i'm doomed to be anxiously and unforgiveably polite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rejectiong a date/suitor is less tricky.  there are numerous conventions that allow for this maneuver/avoidance that are tactful, typical and most importantly, easy on the conscience, if one is so inclined.  the tried and true "thanks, but let's just be friends" is a good one.  so is "i'm just not looking to date anyone right now," "i'm really swamped with ____," or "i don't want to mess up our friendship."  if circumstances suggest it (and sometimes if they don't), there's always "i just broke up with my significant other," "i'm really feeling the single-ness right now," or "i'm thinking of being celebate for the rest of my life."  all of these are really good ways of getting rid of someone you don't want to date.  with them at hand, i can sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but what about getting rid of someone you don't want in &lt;em&gt;general&lt;/em&gt;?  this might sound callous, bitchy, elitist, or downright mean.  but the fact is, there are people in this world that i would rather not call my friends.  at present, they seem to be growing in number.  i suppose there's always audrey hepburn's line in &lt;em&gt;charade&lt;/em&gt;, where she tells cary grant that she already knows an awful lot of people and until one of them dies, she couldn't possibly meet anyone else.  but let's face it.  it's carry-fucking-grant.  of course she wanted his damn phone number.  she knew it, he knew it, you and i knew it.  the pope fucking knew it.  and he would have gotten carry grant's number too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;realistically, there's no good way to turn down a friendship.  if the potential friend is persistent enough (and for the sake of argument, he/she is, because otherwise there would be no problem), any option is going to be either weak enough that it won't work, or harsh enough that it makes a person like me feel bad.  (yes no matter how much i dislike the person.  i'm weak.)  so you're stuck with this annoying semi-presence, irritating you as much as the days are long, begging to be told off, but lacking a good enough reason for the gesture.  this might not sound like a big deal.  but neither does orange juice concentrate until brad pitt noted that with equal parts of gasoline you can make napalm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just think it'd be nice if society could construct some sort of neutral, non-hostile friendship rejection formula(e) that i could follow and thereby maintain my sanity.  until then, you can call it like it is:  caitlyn's a tool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-109999048879074642?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/109999048879074642/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=109999048879074642' title='3 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109999048879074642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109999048879074642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/god-knows-i-want-to-break-free.html' title='&quot;god knows i want to break free...&quot;'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-109969217784241221</id><published>2004-11-05T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T14:02:57.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>helmet nuisance</title><content type='html'>if you are reading this and you are sarah of the kamlet family who is planning on seeing jon brion tonight, just know that as you read this, i'm looking forward to an uneventful evening which will probably amount to the most boring friday night i've had since my dad tried to teach me about the molecular surface of protein when i was 9.  but no big deal, you know, i'm totally understanding and in no way jealous of you.  seriously, i want you to go have fun with that...  i'll just be here.  quietly hating you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i'm more conflicted than ever about what city i'll be going to in france next year.  deadline is at the beginning of january, so i should decide before going on winter break.   and the clock ticks on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm listening to &lt;em&gt;talkie walkie&lt;/em&gt; and it's gorgeous outside with the breeze and the sun and the little birds and fall and all of that.  mes cheveux sont comme une noix de coco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-109969217784241221?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/109969217784241221/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=109969217784241221' title='3 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109969217784241221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109969217784241221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/helmet-nuisance.html' title='helmet nuisance'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-109952358144157186</id><published>2004-11-03T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T15:13:01.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>untitled...</title><content type='html'>so now that i've had a few hours to come to grips with the results, the concession, and the prospect of years of implications, i find myself no better able to articulate how i feel than when i first learned that ohio was going red.  when i talk about it, i find myself using the world "fuck" a lot--a favorite word, no doubt, but less than distinguished.  all i know is that this is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watching kerry's concession speech this morning, i felt a mixture of grief, anger, fear and inspiration.  network analysts presented the "irony" that a man who had been perceived as an emotional black hole could deliver with such profundity.  is it?  maybe some of us saw that all along.  watching kerry's concession speech this morning, the tragedy struck me as two-fold: first, a country that elected a man who will never have my support can never define me; and yet secondly, i am ultimately part of the definition of america, and i can't be relieved of these implications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you look so tired unhappy, bring down the government; they don't, they don't speak for us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the rhetoric of kerry's address was hopeful, but he was sad.  it isn't easy to get to the "hope" part, but i think i'm going to have to, we all are.  it's not quite about looking to the next election, but picking ourselves up off the floor of this election (the floors of the white house, the senate, the house of representitives, the governors' mansions, and the courts) and--hopefully--moving on.  i can't speak from my heart to say that i am hopeful, but somehow, i think i am or will be.  "wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms. "  i think shakespeare got some of it right, but whether we move on with cheer or out of fear, we have to go somewhere.  and much as i'd like to dream, somewhere isn't going to be out of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/3980533.stm"&gt;"The time will come, the election will come, when your work and your ballots will change the world. And it's worth fighting for."&lt;/a&gt; --john kerry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with nowhere to go but forward, i'm going to crawl out of last night's hibernation, and hopefully, hopefully, before us all a new ground can be laid.  "being invisible and without substance, a disembodied voice, as it were, what else could i do?...who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, i speak for you?"  this is ellison at his most poignant, this is me at my least.  but one thing i know now, more than ever: concession can be recognition of defeat, but it doesn't have to be a relinquishment of ideals.  i don't think we can give up a fight for social justice and global reconciliation because 51% of us want the other guy.  for the future, i'll try to think of the of the 48% of us who don't and let that sustain me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the mean time, i'll probably use the word "fuck" a lot.  but as the country is beaten black and blue with red and blue paint brushes, the worst we can do is stand down, the least we can do is stand up, and the most we can do is everything.  i don't know where we'll be in 30 years, but history isn't made by looking back; it's made by looking forward.  so i end this somewhat confused and certainly overspent entry with more hope than my own cynicism should allow for--as i am very upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-109952358144157186?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/109952358144157186/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=109952358144157186' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109952358144157186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109952358144157186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/untitled.html' title='untitled...'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6563288.post-109946387769323652</id><published>2004-11-02T22:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T22:37:57.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>seeing red</title><content type='html'>there's so much on my mind right now that i'm afraid describing my assessment of The Situation would undermine its severity.  no, this is not melodrama or overexaggeration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are all so very fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since bush's victory warrents the most scathing cynicism i've ever expressed towards the american electorate, and since i have not the words, i'll go with the next thing that the country did to break my heart:  6 states banned gay marriage.  6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no light-hearted apology for overstepping my bounds as patient citizen; tonight i'm damn angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6563288-109946387769323652?l=caitlynk.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/feeds/109946387769323652/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6563288&amp;postID=109946387769323652' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109946387769323652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6563288/posts/default/109946387769323652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://caitlynk.blogspot.com/2004/11/seeing-red.html' title='seeing red'/><author><name>caitlynk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17269815131412693314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11724305881231187236'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>