Run Away! Run Away!

I am full of vitriol and anger lately. To get rid of said aggression I usually just go out and beat up a hobo. Or I find a person smaller than me – so basically children – to smack around.

No, that would be crazy. And illegal.

I have been running!

And I will be running in Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Race. You can DONATE HERE.

This is why.

Twinventures

Twinventures, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

Need to start doing this again.

Soon?

Work Flowers

Picture 114, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

They feel like brains.

A me flower - I bloom pictures.

Me!, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

Sooo, I take a lot of pictures. And then I fell onto my camera while hiking with Megan, Erin, and Robin in Turkey Run, Indiana. Rather than going out and buying a whole new point and shoot, I got my PowerShot SD550 fixed. Rest assured, however, I will be buying a brand new camera in the not to distant future.

More specifically a Digital SLR Nikon D80. Droooooooooooooool.

You will now be able to see my mercilessly documented life in high def. Hopefully.

More news coming...

People try to put us d-down (talkin bout my generation)

I was introduced to this gem thanks to my lovely co-worker. My mom watched it and later asked, "So, do you drink a lot of PBR?"

Priceless.

And thanks again Wikipedia:

"Etymologically, the words "hep" and “hip” derived from the African Wolof tribe’s word “hipi” meaning; “to see”.[1] The word was used in many African communities of the Diaspora since their time of transplantation from their original locale."

So, really I just see.

In other news I got an early Birthday card entitled, "A message from Sheikh Osama Bin Laden to the American people."

"You permitted Bush to complete his first term, and stranger still, chose him for a second term, which gave him a clear mandate from you... to continue to murder our people in Iraq and Afghanistan".

It is hard to not agree with that point. And I understand the purpose of the tape is really just to show he is still alive.

But, its like putting Jeffrey Dahmer in a Milk add. I mean yeah Milk IS good for your bones and everything, but now I can't stop thinking of Dahmer eating fat ladies with a milk mustache when I want Milk.

24 More Years!

Apocolypse, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

From Me: (all e-mailed to friends)

Hello Folks,

I have aged. Or will officially age on the 11th. Never forget.
This is my first birthday without my twin tower. Come help me celebrate my 24th year of life and my first year of solitude - the only way I know how to celebrate = with pizza, beer, and ping pong.

Happy Village
1059 N. Wolcott Ave.
773-486-1512
8:00 pm
Tuesday - September 11,2007 (a school night!)

Grab your pizza of choice before you get there. I am getting mine from Pizza Metro. (This is because it is delicious.)
There is also a Tamale man that stops by the bar. So, there are options. I am looking out for you here.

It is supposed to be in the 60's that night, so come enjoy the last bit of patio season with your friend and mine - me.
If all goes according to plan I should be drunk by 8:15.

Call if you have questions. And bring friends. So I feel popular.

From Megan:

It's time to choose sides, people. You know that scenic Ann Arbor with its Huron River, one hipster bar and your more favorite twin is the better option. Forget this hobag.

From Me:

Yeah and when you choose that side remember what side you are choosing - one full of non-shaven legs, the stink of patchouli oil, and massive amounts of String Cheese Incident. At least all of us city dwelling, bike riding, PBR drinking hipsters are saving the world fashionably. While wearing deodorant. My twin is a dumb dyke! Happy Birthday Megan!!!

From Mike: (He wishes he was our twin. Then maybe our parents would love him more.)
Fuck that noise. Come to New Orleans and get the best of both worlds.
Don't believe that there are only two options available to you.
There is a third (and fourth and fifth and so on)! And even though I
don't know twice as many as half of you in this reply, you can bring
me presents for my upcoming birthday. Boycott the twins!

This is perfect!

And just in time for Critical Mass tomorrow. Almost Happy Friday!

Ehhnnnn

It blooms awesome. Seeing it on the big screen, just has a different effect.

The Dark Knight, originally uploaded by eddie..

"Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn."

Ha ha ha!

We were babies!

Shanina!

shannonjanaina, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

A little history lesson. Janina V. and I first met when we were fifteen years old. We were on a Study Abroad program in Australia. I was placed in Melbourne and she in Adelaide. On an official USAC safarri we traveled by bus and tent through the great continent of Australia with other kids in the program who were stationed in Tasmania as well. (That would be my twin's group including the great Robin and Jake-a-rooni.) Janina and I bonded over Tim-Tams and cried in the outback about the pains of adolescence as Dreamtime settled all around us. She and I only knew each other for two and a half weeks.

We kept in touch through the years via e-mail, letters and phone calls. She knew my deep dark secrets and I knew hers. We were a distant, objective ear.

Fast forward to 2004 and I am on another Study Abroad program in the Czech Republic. I took a side trip to Rotterdam, Holland to see Janaina. We had not seen each other since Australia. Much to our delight we got along better than well. We bonded over the pains of post-adolescence and Dutch cookies as our Mushroom induced dreaming settled all around us.

Janina is in America. So far we have seen Jeff Wall prints, had romantic strolls through the park, ridden our bikes drunkenly through the city, seen a petting zoo of rats with Robin at Happy Village, set up a video rental for both of us, fought trolls with umbrellas, disgusted and surprised each other with how sick we both are, ran through the rain and subsequently danced in our underwear to Kate Bush (ok it was just me - I like what God gave me- sue me), and we have eatten a lot of cupcakes.

And we are also heart-breakingly photogenic.

Yay for seeing the world!

Inspiration

Like a breath of fresh air.

Dear Life,

Thanks for being insane.

Love,
Shannon

Megan Flower

B (log) Vitamins

I apologize for my lack of Blogging lately. A lot has been going on. I just moved to a new hood and I am having Rogers Park withdrawals. Just joking. It takes me 15 minutes to get to work by bike now and I pass what I (my nose) think is a Bread Factory and a pool (my eyes).


Suffice to say - lots of changes are happening and are about to happen. Thank God for all of my awesome friends and brother who have been helping my sister and I move /cope with shiznit.


Also, you should check out Megan's Blog to get some perspective: Red Beans and Lice. Watch Kota howl and hear from Megan's mouth how awesome I am. And my mom. Sandra Rae is awesome. Just think about THAT.

Mom and Meg at American Can Company, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

And it wouldn't be a Shannon Post without an entertainment recommendation:




I saw Sunshine with Mike, Funzi and Megan this weekend. It was (Mike you will like this) AMAZING.

A Long Blog for a Long Day

Westernmost Puerto Rican flag on Division St (May 2003)., originally uploaded by YoChicago1.

This week has been super busy. I meant to write a really detailed account of my magical weekend from last week, but had to make a quick trip to New Orleans for family matters.

I will give a few suggestions for those who live in Chicago. Firstly, go to Public Pools and parks. The Chicago Park District is a thing of beauty. You will be greeted by tons of little kids who want to swim with you and comment on your boy choices. LaToya thinks Megan's dude is "ugly". And the water is ice, ice cold.

Second suggestion - Go to the Puerto Rican festival in Humboldt Park. It is way tastier than St. Patrick's Day. Get the stick full of meat and a Pina Colada in a Pineapple.

And third, next time Dax Riggs comes to town - go. You know that really tense video of David Bowie and Mick Jagger dancing and singing with each other? Well, when they were done shooting they went down to the swamps of Louisiana and made love. They had a baby and his name is Dax Riggs.



The show reminded me that sometimes the best part of meeting people are the cds and books they leave behind on your nightstand.

Happy Birthday Red Beans and Lice!

Here's a close up of the beautiful "Ice sculpture birthday cake", originally uploaded by kjdrill.

Megan's Blog is a year old today. To celebrate we are going to put our pictures in the LOL Cat generator and go see Knocked Up and photog it all. Generation Y is better than your generation.

PS - This man wants to start his own blog - because he has "things to say".

Interwub - be ready.

The Moviegoer

Sandra Rae, mi madre, has been recommending a lot of movies recently. And Virgin, Megastore is closing. So, this got me thinking about movies I would like to buy. A lot of them are from last year. Good show, movie world. Good show.

Thinking about this made me want to list my Top Ten movies from last year. You should watch them.

The Fountain



The Science of Sleep



The Departed



Down in the Valley




The Prestige




Pan's Labyrinth




Children of Men



Brick





Half Nelson





Little Miss Sunshine





Honorable Mention - The Descent







PS - I like posting pictures on my blog.

Pug Flower

Me and Pug, originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

They bloom poop.

Aren't You Ashamed?

Being a girl is weird. While purchasing some sundries at the local CVS with my co-workers the other day, I was reminded of this fact. I needed some Feminine Products to stop the blood. The cashier asked if I wanted a bag, to which I replied, "No thanks."

She looked up at me with a shocked expression, "Aren't you ashamed?"
Um, no. More than half the population bleeds once a month. If anything, I felt a little crampy. Which is why I also bought me some mood-enhancing Pamprin.



Later that day we met up with JR of Peace Corps glory. He told us that women could only get Pads on the Dominican Island he lived on and they cost three dollars a pop! That could get really expensive on a heavy flow day. Really expensive.

Our Patriarchal World is punishing us for its Womb Envy.

Below is an essay from a dude who created one of the best female characters to ever grace this planet.



Joss Whedon on the ladies.

This is not my blog, but I don't have a blog, or a space, and I'd like to be heard for a bit.

Last month seventeen year old Dua Khalil was pulled into a crowd of young men, some of them (the instigators) family, who then kicked and stoned her to death. This is an example of the breath-taking oxymoron "honor killing", in which a family member (almost always female) is murdered for some religious or ethical transgression. Dua Khalil, who was of the Yazidi faith, had been seen in the company of a Sunni Muslim, and possibly suspected of having married him or converted. That she was torturously murdered for this is not, in fact, a particularly uncommon story. But now you can watch the action up close on CNN. Because as the girl was on the ground trying to get up, her face nothing but red, the few in the group of more than twenty men who were not busy kicking her and hurling stones at her were filming the event with their camera-phones.

There were security officers standing outside the area doing nothing, but the footage of the murder was taken – by more than one phone – from the front row. Which means whoever shot it did so not to record the horror of the event, but to commemorate it. To share it. Because it was cool.

I could start a rant about the level to which we have become desensitized to violence, about the evils of the voyeuristic digital world in which everything is shown and everything is game, but honestly, it's been said. And I certainly have no jingoistic cultural agenda. I like to think that in America this would be considered unbearably appalling, that Kitty Genovese is still remembered, that we are more evolved. But coincidentally, right before I stumbled on this vid I watched the trailer for "Captivity".

A few of you may know that I took public exception to the billboard campaign for this film, which showed a concise narrative of the kidnapping, torture and murder of a sexy young woman. I wanted to see if the film was perhaps more substantial (especially given the fact that it was directed by "The Killing Fields" Roland Joffe) than the exploitive ad campaign had painted it. The trailer resembles nothing so much as the CNN story on Dua Khalil. Pretty much all you learn is that Elisha Cuthbert is beautiful, then kidnapped, inventively, repeatedly and horrifically tortured, and that the first thing she screams is "I'm sorry".

"I'm sorry."

What is wrong with women?

I mean wrong. Physically. Spiritually. Something unnatural, something destructive, something that needs to be corrected.

How did more than half the people in the world come out incorrectly? I have spent a good part of my life trying to do that math, and I'm no closer to a viable equation. And I have yet to find a culture that doesn't buy into it. Women's inferiority – in fact, their malevolence -- is as ingrained in American popular culture as it is anywhere they're sporting burkhas. I find it in movies, I hear it in the jokes of colleagues, I see it plastered on billboards, and not just the ones for horror movies. Women are weak. Women are manipulative. Women are somehow morally unfinished. (Objectification: another tangential rant avoided.) And the logical extension of this line of thinking is that women are, at the very least, expendable.

I try to think how we got here. The theory I developed in college (shared by many I'm sure) is one I have yet to beat: Womb Envy. Biology: women are generally smaller and weaker than men. But they're also much tougher. Put simply, men are strong enough to overpower a woman and propagate. Women are tough enough to have and nurture children, with or without the aid of a man. Oh, and they've also got the equipment to do that, to be part of the life cycle, to create and bond in a way no man ever really will. Somewhere a long time ago a bunch of men got together and said, "If all we do is hunt and gather, let's make hunting and gathering the awesomest achievement, and let's make childbirth kinda weak and shameful." It's a rather silly simplification, but I believe on a mass, unconscious level, it's entirely true. How else to explain the fact that cultures who would die to eradicate each other have always agreed on one issue? That every popular religion puts restrictions on women's behavior that are practically untenable? That the act of being a free, attractive, self-assertive woman is punishable by torture and death? In the case of this upcoming torture-porn, fictional. In the case of Dua Khalil, mundanely, unthinkably real. And both available for your viewing pleasure.

It's safe to say that I've snapped. That something broke, like one of those robots you can conquer with a logical conundrum. All my life I've looked at this faulty equation, trying to understand, and I've shorted out. I don't pretend to be a great guy; I know really really well about objectification, trust me. And I'm not for a second going down the "women are saints" route – that just leads to more stone-throwing (and occasional Joan-burning). I just think there is the staggering imbalance in the world that we all just take for granted. If we were all told the sky was evil, or at best a little embarrassing, and we ought not look at it, wouldn't that tradition eventually fall apart? (I was going to use 'trees' as my example, but at the rate we're getting rid of them I'm pretty sure we really do think they're evil. See how all rants become one?)

Now those of you who frequent this site are, in my wildly biased opinion, fairly evolved. You may hear nothing new here. You may be way ahead of me. But I can't contain my despair, for Dua Khalil, for humanity, for the world we're shaping. Those of you who have followed the link I set up know that it doesn't bring you to a video of a murder. It brings you to a place of sanity, of people who have never stopped asking the question of what is wrong with this world and have set about trying to change the answer. Because it's no longer enough to be a decent person. It's no longer enough to shake our heads and make concerned grimaces at the news. True enlightened activism is the only thing that can save humanity from itself. I've always had a bent towards apocalyptic fiction, and I'm beginning to understand why. I look and I see the earth in flames. Her face was nothing but red.

All I ask is this: Do something. Try something. Speaking out, showing up, writing a letter, a check, a strongly worded e-mail. Pick a cause – there are few unworthy ones. And nudge yourself past the brink of tacit support to action. Once a month, once a year, or just once. If you can't think of what to do, there is this handy link. Even just learning enough about a subject so you can speak against an opponent eloquently makes you an unusual personage. Start with that. Any one of you would have cried out, would have intervened, had you been in that crowd in Bashiqa. Well thanks to digital technology, you're all in it now.

I have never had any faith in humanity. But I will give us props on this: if we can evolve, invent and theorize our way into the technologically magical, culturally diverse and artistically magnificent race we are and still get people to buy the idiotic idea that half of us are inferior, we're pretty amazing. Let our next sleight of hand be to make that myth disappear.

The sky isn't evil. Try looking up.


Joss Whedon enduces my Menstrual Flow. In other girl news, I tried Diet Coke Plus today. It tasted like someone put chalk in Diet Coke.

I Guess He Has a Type

The twins eat candied strawberries., originally uploaded by Juxtaposedface.

Remember that time a few weeks ago when my friend Ling and I grabbed a beer at the Rainbo after a disappointing trip to the Empty Bottle? We saw a cute boy walk by and we both nodded in approval. Within a few minutes of sitting down with our drinks said cute boy and friend sat in our booth. Cute boy insisted he take me out on a date later that week. Let’s call him Harry. Harry asked for my number and then called my phone (which was sitting on the table) to make sure I had his phone number. The thing is, Harry stopped being cute when he started to talk.

When he called I was busy with things and a little scared by his enthusiasm. He ended up calling me one evening till five o’clock in the morning just from this one chance encounter. Sweet.

This weekend a couple of friends and I went to the Rainbo again. A cute boy with a beard walked by and we nodded in approval. He then went up to my sister Megan and asked her if she wanted to have a “cocktail” with him. Ling’s eyes got big and she said “That’s the guy who kept calling you!”

We asked Megan what was his name.

“Harry,” she said.

Harry grew a beard.

Well, the dude has a type I guess. And it is the Milliken type. Next time our brother Mike comes into town, we are strapping a wig on him and marching over to Rainbo to see if he gets lucky, lucky with a fellow by the name of “Harry.”