I was asked if I was going to write anything about the PETA campaign.  But the reality is that — for me — it would be like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.  There is so much wrong with PETA that to focus on this sole campaign dismisses everything else they do that pisses me off.  And I write that as a life-long vegetarian, non-fur-wearing woman.

Really, is demeaning those with infertility any worse than their Holocaust on Your Plate campaign?  Or their “Are Animals the New Slaves?” campaign? (I missed it when it was in DC, but I was told they dressed up in KKK hoods to stand by their signs.)  Or their misogynistic ads objectifying women?  I mean, they’ve offended me as a Jew, a woman… why solely focus on how they crap on infertile people?

There’s definitely a point to addressing how asinine they are, but so much of what they do is to get this type of attention.  The majority of the world thinks PETA is manned by douchebags and avoids their website.  So I have mixed feelings about sending people their way that would otherwise be ignoring PETA on any other day.

Obviously, in writing this, I just brought them to your attention therefore doing what I just said I didn’t want to do.  Curse you, PETA, and your Jedi mind games.

The flip side, of course, is that you have to speak out against the PETAs of the world.  Against the Robert Morris dancers of this world.  Against all the groups who make idiotic choices.  Ignoring isn’t always the best policy.  So I fully support those who are choosing to write about the campaign and taking a stand even if I’m not.  Until I am.  To explain why I’m not.

So… um… no, I have nothing to say about that particular campaign because I don’t have time to unpack the numerous problems I have with PETA.  And how disappointed I am in them as an organization.  And how much it sucks that instead of doing good work and receiving attention that way, they stoop to enraging various groups so they’ll give them the free publicity.

Because honestly, if not for this campaign, would you have ever thought today about PETA?  Or would they have remained a mostly ignored organization?

So what is the answer when this happens?  Is it better to simply ignore rather than giving them what they want (the publicity; access to the eyes in your community because they’re not going to be coming over to see what PETA is doing otherwise)?  Is it better to speak out?

For those who have no clue what I’m talking about, I direct you to the ever astute Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed who has been having a back and forth conversation with PETA.  Because I’d rather link there than to PETA’s site.

Welcome to the first concert on the blog.  Get your lighters ready because here we go…

[For those who are new: Concert on the Blog Series (and the attached “performance lobby”) is a weekly post highlighting a musical, theater, film, or comedy performance. It’s also a chance for viewers to communicate with the artists via the comment section on the post. In other words, it’s free publicity for artists and it’s free enjoyment for viewers — a win-win for all participants.  Please click here to find out how you can have your performance featured.]

Melissa the Emcee: One Ring Zero is the brain-child of Michael Hearst and Joshua Camp.  Though their sound and record themes are completely unique, if I had to compare them to another band in order to prepare you, I would say they’re like an incredibly well-read They Might Be Giants.  Or the circus if the circus rocked out.  Or a musical Neil Gaiman.  Which actually isn’t that far a stretch since they are the band best known as being part of “lit rock” for their project, As Smart as We Are, setting the words of famous authors to music (samples from that album below).

For those who prefer their music straight no pictures…

Josh’s favourite is the one using the words of Jonathan Ames called “The Story Of The Hairy Call.”

[audio:https://www.stirrup-queens.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/17-The-Story-Of-The-Hairy-Call-2.mp3]

Probably my favourite song from that project is the one from Michael Chabon explaining why he can’t participate in the project:

[audio:https://www.stirrup-queens.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/15-MC.mp3]

There’s also the slow, creepy words of Neil Gaiman:

[audio:https://www.stirrup-queens.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/12-On-The-Wall-1.mp3]

But it’s not all author’s words. Their rewriting of Holst’s The Planets on its 100-year anniversary is a brilliant idea.  Here is Pluto:

[audio:https://www.stirrup-queens.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/12-Pluto.mp3]

For those who prefer to see what they’re hearing…

Michael Chabon:

Lemony Snicket (also known as Daniel Handler):

Venus:

For those in love with the band (and please let them know in the comment section below), you can find them in many places on the Web:

• Website:  www.oneringzero.com
• Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/One-Ring-Zero/29957089340
• Twitter: twitter.com/oneringzero

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The performance lobby (right above the comment section where you can hang out and discuss the band and the artist of the day) is currently featuring the photography of a fellow blogger, Funny Little Pollywogs.

She started out snapping pictures around her city with a point and shoot camera.  When she inherited her Nikon DSLR camera from her grandfather, her photography hobby blossomed.  Her love for portrait photography developed as she witnessed the joy that it brings to others.  She specializes in maternity, babies, and family portraits.  She is a full time teacher and passionately enjoys blogging and her photography.  She is based in south-central PA and will travel to surrounding areas.

Not Just a Kiss

Now go mill about the lawn (fine, the comment section), hanging out with your fellow concert goers and chat about what you just heard and saw.

I’ve been thinking of my attention as of late in terms of money; in the sense that we all have a limited amount of time in our day and therefore, by default, a limited amount of attention.  We can spend our attention mindful of our attention budget, taking into consideration all that needs to get accomplished, or we can spend our attention freely, letting the day take us where it will and perhaps ending up at the end of the day with a long to-do list still incomplete.

The first way of spending my attention is pretty fucking boring, to be frank.  I mean, I need to be an adult and get my work done and get the laundry done and tick off all the tasks on my to-do list.  But it’s like exercise: I feel good after I’ve done it, but I don’t enjoy doing it.  It makes me feel virtuous, but it doesn’t feel creatively fulfilling.  And I usually get to the end of the day and feel like I spent all of my time on other people and not myself.  I can literally go through day after day of doing things for other people, placing myself second, and never getting to myself and my own wants at all.

The second way doesn’t work either.  It’s sort of like eating brownies for every meal.  The first one tastes great, but after a bit, you start to feel queasy from all of the fat and sugar, your body quite aware that there’s no substance to the food.  I’ll declare a mental health day from work and use it to read blogs, jumping into Facebook and Twitter, and I’ll look at the clock and realize that four hours have passed and I’ve enjoyed myself, but I don’t feel full.  My to-do list is still screaming at me.  And I generally feel like crap about myself when I don’t feel that I’ve been productive.

And at the same time, who defines productivity except myself?

I put a post-it note above my computer last week that reads:

Because I need that reminder.  I have a tendency to run instead of walk.  I have a tendency to feel panicked that I’m not doing enough when it’s quite clear that I’m stretched thin.  This race is entirely internal — I don’t feel like I’m racing other people.  I feel like I’m racing the universe itself; time itself.

I internalized Mr. Keating’s speeches in Dead Poets Society a bit too deeply — I feel like every moment of the day, I am screaming at myself to seize life (carpe diem!) and even if I’m holding it, I’m still screaming at myself to seize it harder.

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There’s another way to think about spending attention.  In the example above, it’s about being mindful of quantity.  I have 1440 minutes in my day.  How am I going to allot them to the various things I need to do and want to do?

The other side is quality.  Am I spending my attention on things of worth?  I’d argue that when I’m mindful of how much time I’m spending on it, reading blogs is a quality activity.  I learn something new; my world is expanded; and I connect with another human being.

That is, when the blog is worth reading.  Or when the news story is worth following.  It is too easy to get sucked into the outrage of the day.  It is too easy to waste hours of time over someone else pushing our buttons.  I felt that was last week with the whole Scott Adams misogynistic rant.  I could feel myself getting sucked into thinking about it, reading about it, talking about it.

What a waste of time.

Laurie’s point at the end of the Scott Adams post is what kicked off this idea — that I don’t need to give myself a Tiger Blood transfusion just because someone else is putting the bag on the IV pole (wait, what sort of analogy is that?  Why do I need a transfusion?)  It was further cemented by a brief email conversation with a friend who said that his blog traffic was high if he was talking about something controversial, weighing in on the big daily blogosphere brouhaha.  But his readership dropped considerably if he wrote a touching post about himself.

Personally, I skip over the posts about the big daily blogosphere brouhahas because it goes back to quality — and I don’t see drama as time well-spent.  But I love his quieter posts about himself.  Those are the ones that move me and make me feel as if I spent my attention wisely upon reading them.

It’s not that hard to turn down the Tiger Blood transfusion; to say “no thank you” to someone else’s drama when your peeking into their world.  But what about when they kick down your figurative door and drag you into the drama?  This happened recently to Flotsam and she wrote a long, albeit important (and worth reading!) piece about it.

She states about not interacting with people who are trying to provoke you:

Alas, Conventional Wisdom made contradictory demands upon me. One such set of demands goes like this: Do Not Acknowledge Internet Trolls/Do Not Let Internet Trolls Dictate Your Behavior. The idea is to proceed as if the incident never happened at all, so as not to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they “got to you.” Attention will only encourage them, because attention is what they want, so we mustn’t give it or The Terrorists Win.

Putting yourself out there means that people crash into you (some nicely, some not so nicely).  On one hand, you get the giant game of Marco Polo that Alexa mentions at the end of the post.  On the other hand, you get the email that she mentions at the beginning of the post.

I’m not even sure where I’m going with this beyond the fact that I have been acutely aware as of late of how I am spending time.  Of how much I spend on others and not on myself.  Of whether I’m buying quality moments with my attention or whether I’m buying garbage — and whether what I buy is totally in my control (I mean, if someone steals my wallet, the money is gone but I didn’t choose how I spent it.  When you get an email like Alexa received, you don’t necessarily choose how you spend your attention because you’re going to be affected emotionally).

How are you spending your attention?  Your daily 1440 minute allotment?

A few weeks ago, we went to a Star Wars event.  They had a band playing the score from the movies, props from the sets, and art projects.  Some kids came in costume.  (Our family phoned it in with Star Wars t-shirts.  By which I mean the Wolvog and I wore Star Wars t-shirts, and the ChickieNob and Josh said, “so, you’re going to wear that?”)

The crowning moment of the event was the parade of characters.  Unfortunately they skipped over providing ANY FEMALE CHARACTER despite the fact that probably 1/3rd of the crowd were girls.  We got a soft-spoken Obi Wan, some storm troopers, and various other minor characters.

Obi Wan mentioned that they were all members of a group who dress up and attend charity events or help out non-profits, or simply dress up and enjoy each other’s Star Wars company.  He then mentioned that the regional group has thousands of members, not to mention the fact that they are a drop in the bucket of the overall membership to the organization.  Across America, there are people slipping into Princess Leia’s white gown or Darth Vader’s heavy-breather mask AS YOU READ THIS.

This blew my mind for some reason.

I’m not sure I love Star Wars enough to hang out and chat about the Force with others, but I could think of plenty of well-loved movies or books I’d dedicate my time to recreating with costumes and accents and such.

I could see myself as a random Harry Potter character.  Or playacting as the member of a band (though I guess that’s a little bit what that Rock Band game is… right?).  And if there was ever a group of people dressing up and playing The Phantom Tollbooth, I’d slip myself into a big furry Tock costume.

What group would you join if it existed?

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I watch a lot of YouTube while I’m supposed to be writing.  In my defense, I write very quickly and I’m fairly prodigious in the amount of pages I churn out, therefore, I don’t feel badly that I use roughly half my writing time watching YouTube and surfing the Web.  I chalk it all up as idea-casting.

My favourite thing to watch beyond music videos and footage from old concerts is television clips — either things I remember or things I missed the first time around.  As of late, I’ve been on a comedian kick, my two favourites being Andy Kaufman and Gilda Radner.

I’m not sure how much either of them identified as Jewish in daily life, but it fills me with such nachas that I can list them as Jewish comedians.  There are a lot of Jewish comedians; a lot of Jewish writers and performers and actors.  And I don’t feel extreme pride over all of them.  For instance, it has never stirred me emotionally that Jerry Seinfeld is a member of the tribe.  I like his work and I’ve gone to see his stand-up routine, but it makes no difference to me whether he’s Jewish.

There is no rhyme or reason as to whether I feel that pride that we’re in the same group.  Gilda Radner, yes.  Andy Kaufman, yes.  Judd Apatow, no.  Eugene Levy, yes.  Jerry Seinfeld, no.  Andy Samberg and Akiva Schaffer, yes. (Sorry, Jorma Taccone, that we can’t claim you.)

The words are bleeped out, but I’m fairly certain that this isn’t the best thing to watch at work. But when you get home…

This, on the other hand, totally acceptable for the workplace.  Even if you don’t work in your living room like me.

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Sometimes I sit and think about all the names I’m never going to get to use.  I know most people have more names that they love than they could possibly have children — that isn’t unique.  But they also probably don’t give it as much thought as I do — and I chalk that up to the brick wall between myself and procreation.

If you are involved at all in NaBloPoMo, Eden Kennedy’s brain-child that involves posting daily for an entire month (a bloggy response to NaNoWriMo — National Novel Writing Month where you commit to writing a novel in the month of November), you know the news… I’m running it now.

NaBloPoMo merged with BlogHer, and BlogHer hired me to run it.  Apparently, being the most anal person on earth with colour-coded systems for everything in my life pays off every once in a while.  So I will now be organizing NaBloPoMo for BlogHer, and still running IComLeavWe (the commenting response to NaNoWriMo) for myself, and using my tremendous organizational powers for good instead of evil.

Because can you imagine the amount of evil I am capable of doing with this paper-filing brain?

It has sort of been a wonderful end of the week after the announcement because all these bloggers I knew from years past crawled out of the woodwork to reconnect.  They had closed one blog and opened a new one and were now living life, doing NaBloPoMo, and when they saw my name they thought — oh! the ALI community.  It felt like the email equivalent to Dan Fogelberg’s “Same Old Lang Syne.”  Except there was no snow falling because it wasn’t Christmas Eve.  It was more like the end of March.  So there was rain.

NaBloPoMo is also a good fit because it is now the receptacle of my daily, unending string of questions, which have now been shunted into daily writing prompts.  One of which I will offer each week in Roundup to entice you to one day commit to doing NaBloPoMo.  I’m calling it ComOnNaPro (Comment on NaBloPoMo Prompt) — a chance to test in a comment if you have the brain power to do a full month of NaBloPoMo.

So, to sum up, I’m the new face of NaBloPoMo.  I will continue to do good instead of evil with my incredible, Rolodex-like brain.  I will sometimes suggest a double helping of writing and commenting by begging you to give NaBloPoMo and IComLeavWe a chance at the very same time.  I need to grow at least five inches rather quickly so I can fill Eden Kennedy’s cool-ass shoes.