Courtney, when I say I love you I am not ashamed, nor will anyone ever ever come close to intimidating persuading, etc me into thinking otherwise. I wear you on my sleeve. I spread you out wide open with the wing span of a peacock. Yet all too often with the attention span of a bullet to the head. I think its pathetic that the entire world looks upon a calm demeanor as the desired model citizen. Yet heres something to be said about the ability to explain oneself with a toned down, tune deal tone. And I will say it: I am the boy who is slow. how I metamorphosised from hyperactive to cement is for lack of a better knife to the throat uh, annoying, aggravating, confusing as dense as cement. Cement holds no other minerals. You cant even find fools gold in it. Its strictly manmade and you’ve taught me it’s ok to be a man and in the classic mans world I parade you around proudly like the ring on my finger which also holds no mineral. Love kurdt

Courtney Love

“[I]t makes an immigrant laugh to hear the fears of the nationalist, scared of infection, penetration, miscegenation, when this is small fry, peanuts, compared to what the immigrant fears - dissolution, disappearance.”

                                                                                             ― Zadie Smith, White Teeth

Mariam Gagosh (take two)

Transgressive feminism:

... endeavors to take up histories, geographies, affective dimensions, and political stakes of various feminist insubordinations in the spaces they occupy: intellectual and institutional, local and global, public and intimate, by choice and under duress. Mobilizing the multivalent concept of transgression helps reframe interrogations and impositions into those locations where we labor, love, defy, resist, protest, play, create, and or celebrate.

Thus advertized NWSA in its call for proposal for a forthcoming conference in Puerto Rico.

But that's not what I what I want to announce here. I just want to mount these images I found on the wall of Mariam Gagosh. (Damn if she found out that I did this without her permission.)

Fall in love, darlings. It's a looong queue.

Mariam Gagosh

             this mask belongs to mariam gagosh

The first day of an international human rights conference near Oakland California, a conferencee, Mariam Gagosh, made the following rediscoveries (and this is a repost from her wall at FB):

1. I hate the country of my origin.
2. I hate the country I currently reside in.

Migration is beautiful and this wondering makes life worth my while; it also makes this feeling of non-belongingness bearable; it tells me that I am a nomad, a bird, or a butterfly; most of all, it reminds me that I’m just a Visitor. So are we all.

It struck me because 1) it has been a long while since I last heard a feminist (I assumed she is a feminist because I met her online through Frida)  use the word hate (it's out of fashion); and 2) in my world the only people who announce right on their outcast status are poets and artists and Captain Jack. It's refreshing!

But then the conference Marian Gagosh went to is a funders group, so I said she must be on the donor side, and therefore she can say what she likes without fear of loss of funding?  Plus Gagosh is not American or Afro-American or whatever it is that I associate with positivist feminism (wherever I got that ugly word).

(I am a psychotic, according to the women human rights groups in Davao and Manila who discharged me properly and duly. Coming from them, I say Thank you, glad to be rid of you.)

I have nerve to say that here right on because she has this mask and she wore it and called it angrywomanpower mask. In Jolo, I am all support for Mary because if she is angry she is angry and doesn't think twice about breaking bottles picking a knife a gun and kicking doors. I said you are like Thor, you derive your powers from anger. Cultivate it. Friends ordered me chained. Told the other dykes to keep away.

Back to Mariam Gagosh. Another surprise is the line about migration and country. Just today (as I said, I am light years away from everything that advances in the universe and on Facebook) I encountered for the first time critical race theory, and so I said, thank you, feminism (because it's in a feminist website that the encounter happened), thank you science, thank you empirical research, for how come people just assume that because you support right-to-self-determination of peoples you therefore is on their side.

Not saying I am not on the side of the secessionists of Sulu; only that I am in Sulu with or without help from the secessionists of Sulu and their girlfriends in the NGO community. But what struck me more is the realization that I actually went to Jolo on some set of NGO-HR informed assumptions. Like even if I am working among young street nomads like the lesbians and transguys, I have this idea, this demand in me for them to stay and save their country, rather than find another way using their own agencies. 

These street nomads have no stakes in the Islamic state being brandished by the nationalist Tausugs, they do not give a shit about human rights and all their lives it's slash and burn hit and run. They are indeed butterflies in their pursuit of pleasures, birds in their longings for other shores. And there I am waxing feminist activism and island economy when I could do better conniving with the Dutches talking shipping industry.

   

hard to think in the belly of the beast.
is that why i have not been writing had not been reading?

today dex called. are you still here in jolo? she asked.
to ask that when she herself is in jolo.

i wanted to just scream fuckoff stop following me but she's one kid who has poor stamina that if i said another word to injure her, she would be comatose by the time i got back to jolo. then i will have no one to speak to.

i have been light years away from this post.
the last two three four months it's been jolo mostly.
for what i don't know.
they say there's nothing there to do.
they say there's nothing there for me.
i say there's nothing there for anyone, even for mary.

people who think i am a great loss to commerce or wherever there is life and work and talents are needed order for me to evacuate. get out of jolo. there's nothing there, no social development will happen there in the next day weeks months years decades. they think i am into some delusional leftie adventure.

i just think, oh you don't know me. see you later. see you there.

some days it can really get baad. and i tell myself what i am doing is cleaning after the litter the doggie has left at my doorstep. it is a job i never relish. i remember lia. i was in davao, walking someone else's doggies every morning in exchange of free lodge while looking for a job. lia said you go speak to mac because mac then was dean of the humanities and close to the ncca guys the ones who held the strings. i said they are my murderers! why do you ask me to go to them! she was piqued. said then go walk someone else's dog every morning for the rest of your life you fuck.

i miss lia. i miss people who think well of me.
i miss people who wish me well.

happy new year lia. happy new year tita. i miss moira.
happy new year moira.

yesterday, i went around town. this old lady she said to me. what are you doing in here this is taboo here you do that in manila but not here!

i feel like doing a run up the hill a la maria van trappe. how good it is to be so tabooed! but just the same it scared me because just a week back mary said to me, they will come after us, too. not right on, but they will, one day.

i like talking to mary. i like talking to people who do not make so much of themselves, not even knowing they got intellect the board room intellects do not have.

some intellectuals I find scary. always book quoting and God dragging. there’s something specious about em.

i am right because God is on my side. suppose God were not on their side? what will hold them up and hold them together?

i don't want to be a political saint. 

i just want to be a saint.