More from Ramon Gutierrez's When Jesus Came, the Corn Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality, and Power in New Mexico, 1500-1846, this time p. 210:
In 1606 Gaspar Reyes found himself sick and destitute. Hoping to secure charity from the local Franciscan friars, he begged for food at their residence. A certain Frey Pedro took him in and fed him lavishly with a meal, which even included wine. When Gaspar was finished eating, the friar "stuck his hands in my pants, took my virile member and wriggled it... and said to me, yours is small, mine is bigger." The priest then took Gaspar to his cell where he tried [to fuck him].
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
E-mail from my mom.
Got this today:
Hi Guy.
[A neighbor from a few doors down] was in.......... [His son] was on his way to Los Angeles for a paper presentation........ [The neighbor's son] said an absolutely gorgeous gal was in the seat next to him.........they started talking...........she was very interested in his bieng a veterinarian............ [The neighbor's son] asked her what she did for a living..............turns out she makes porno films. Says it took a while for his jaw to get off his lap...........she makes more $ in one week than he makes or will make all year. His friends in LAX did not believe him, but he had the website for them to check. What a hoot, no?
Well, working all weekend.............
XXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOMom
Hi Guy.
[A neighbor from a few doors down] was in.......... [His son] was on his way to Los Angeles for a paper presentation........ [The neighbor's son] said an absolutely gorgeous gal was in the seat next to him.........they started talking...........she was very interested in his bieng a veterinarian............ [The neighbor's son] asked her what she did for a living..............turns out she makes porno films. Says it took a while for his jaw to get off his lap...........she makes more $ in one week than he makes or will make all year. His friends in LAX did not believe him, but he had the website for them to check. What a hoot, no?
Well, working all weekend.............
XXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOMom
Franciscans.
From Ramon Gutierrez's When Jesus Came, the Corn Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality, and Power in New Mexico, 1500-1846, p. 76, on Spanish Franciscans and Pueblo Indians:
A clerical technique occasionally used to render and obdurate... Indian submissive was to grab him by the testicles and to twist them until the man collapsed in pain. Pedro Acomilla of Taos complained in 1638 that Fray Nicolas Hidalgo "twisted [his penis] so much that it broke in half," leaving Pedro without "what is called the head of the member."
A clerical technique occasionally used to render and obdurate... Indian submissive was to grab him by the testicles and to twist them until the man collapsed in pain. Pedro Acomilla of Taos complained in 1638 that Fray Nicolas Hidalgo "twisted [his penis] so much that it broke in half," leaving Pedro without "what is called the head of the member."
More Obama stuff: At the French bakery.
1) At the French bakery in my neighborhood, the handwritten bakery placard for their "morning roll" (a big pastry roll covered in sugar) now has the Obama sun-rising logo hand-drawn next to it.
2) Also at the French bakery in my neighborhood, this plastic counter placemat they have taped in front of the cashregister with all the presidents on it now has a cut-out of Obama's face cut out and pasted down as the next president. I had asked the monolingual French owner if she had drawn the Obama sun-rising logo on the morning roll placard, and she had pointed out the pasted-down cut out of Obama's face to me and said something fast in French.
"Did you get that?", the college-age counter girl who speaks French asked me after the owner stopped talking to me and left to take care of something.
"Like half," I lied.
"Oh," she was like, nicely, and then was like, "She just said that she had considered pasting Obama over Bush so we could all erase the last eight years from our memories."
2) Also at the French bakery in my neighborhood, this plastic counter placemat they have taped in front of the cashregister with all the presidents on it now has a cut-out of Obama's face cut out and pasted down as the next president. I had asked the monolingual French owner if she had drawn the Obama sun-rising logo on the morning roll placard, and she had pointed out the pasted-down cut out of Obama's face to me and said something fast in French.
"Did you get that?", the college-age counter girl who speaks French asked me after the owner stopped talking to me and left to take care of something.
"Like half," I lied.
"Oh," she was like, nicely, and then was like, "She just said that she had considered pasting Obama over Bush so we could all erase the last eight years from our memories."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
More election...
1) When I was in the black neighborhood bar, the (black) day bartender was there, who I had never met before since I never drink in the daytime unless it's a summer afternoon at a yuppie beergarten, and when Obama got elected and the place went nuts and the people on tv went nuts, she went around behind the bar half-genuinely and half-sarcastically raising her hands and being like, "Praaaaise Jeeesus, Praaaise, Jeesus," and then after a bit, stopping and holding up her one hand and being like, "Do I feel the spirit in here?"
2) Yesterday at school I ran into one of the (black) secretaries I know at the building coffee shop, and when I asked her like I've been asking everyone else how did they enjoy the election results and how late they stayed up, she was like, "Don't tell anyone, but I was tired and went to sleep early," and when I laughed and told her I'd take that to the grave, she was like, "I'm serious now, don't go telling a soul now."
2) Yesterday at school I ran into one of the (black) secretaries I know at the building coffee shop, and when I asked her like I've been asking everyone else how did they enjoy the election results and how late they stayed up, she was like, "Don't tell anyone, but I was tired and went to sleep early," and when I laughed and told her I'd take that to the grave, she was like, "I'm serious now, don't go telling a soul now."
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
My three favorite election moments.
1) At the black neighborhood bar (watched results there) when Michelle Obama came onstage in that red and black dress of hers and she and Barack looked into each other's eyes really intensely and had that really intimate quick kiss while he had his hands resting on her ass --- the black people started cheering and whistling, and this one drunk black dude yelled out and was like, "Yeah, he's going to fuck like a president tonight!"
2) In between canvassing shifts in Indiana, me and my canvassing partner stopped for a quick break at a local diner that deep-fried everything, and I asked the old counter lady about the "taco dog" on the menu. "That's a hotdog in a soft taco shell with cheese and onions and lettuce and beef," she was like. "It's something different." When I got it, they plunked a bottle of hotsauce on the table, and the cheese turned out to be nacho cheese.
3) At the very last shift of the night, my canvassing partner took a lady to the polls, and since her car was small, I ended up staying at the (black) voter's house with her (black) teenage daughter Kwaneesha. The mom sat me down on a plastic-covered hair in their living room to wait and handed me the remote to their huge flatscreen and was like, "Here!" Then, she made me get up again so her daughter could take a picture with me and my partner and her, of her on the way to the polls, and we all held up Obama doorhangers. It took my partner like 30-40 minutes to take her to the polls, since there was a small registration problem that they had to iron out, and plus the lady kept having her take pictures of every step of her going to vote, about thirty or so pictures in all, my canvassing partner said.
2) In between canvassing shifts in Indiana, me and my canvassing partner stopped for a quick break at a local diner that deep-fried everything, and I asked the old counter lady about the "taco dog" on the menu. "That's a hotdog in a soft taco shell with cheese and onions and lettuce and beef," she was like. "It's something different." When I got it, they plunked a bottle of hotsauce on the table, and the cheese turned out to be nacho cheese.
3) At the very last shift of the night, my canvassing partner took a lady to the polls, and since her car was small, I ended up staying at the (black) voter's house with her (black) teenage daughter Kwaneesha. The mom sat me down on a plastic-covered hair in their living room to wait and handed me the remote to their huge flatscreen and was like, "Here!" Then, she made me get up again so her daughter could take a picture with me and my partner and her, of her on the way to the polls, and we all held up Obama doorhangers. It took my partner like 30-40 minutes to take her to the polls, since there was a small registration problem that they had to iron out, and plus the lady kept having her take pictures of every step of her going to vote, about thirty or so pictures in all, my canvassing partner said.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Silverfish / Ticket / Button / Campaign.
I walked down the backstaircase at school where I had smashed a silverfish with the bare palm of my hand last week. Its carcass was still on the wall.
I'm a little pissed about how the Obama campaign did tickets on (as I understand it) a first-come, first-served online basis. This rewards people who are on the internet and fuck around all day, not people like me who actually get shit done and am not on Facebook every frickin' moment of every frickin' day and still find time to volunteer, unlike those fools. It probably also benefits white people more, because of the digital divide.
On another note, I really hate people in non-swing states who wear their Obama buttons all the time. Why? It's more about them than the campaign, I feel. I only wear mine when I'm in a swing state. I feel I have weird privacy issues like that, somehow.
In terms of campaigning, my mom finally got around to doing it today in my hometown back in Michigan, and she wrote this e-mail to me this evening under the subjectline "mission accomplished":
Just stopping by the library to let you know that I worked all day on the Obama campaign. I left 59 hangee things on doors and spoke to 23 people. The best was a lady in her 30's who wanted to vote strictly for the medical marijuana proposal...forget Obama. I'm sure she thought it was for the legalization of marijuana.......you go girl!
...
I stopped by the [community college center where my father teaches sometimes] to see Dad before his class. There he was in the parking lot reading a Parker book and almost dozing off............told him I was going to tell you that.
Tomorrow I will stopping by the headquarters after I get out of work at 1pm.
Tomorrow's the BIG day.......................
Love, MomXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I wonder how her volunteering will go tomorrow. I will be in Indiana.
I'm a little pissed about how the Obama campaign did tickets on (as I understand it) a first-come, first-served online basis. This rewards people who are on the internet and fuck around all day, not people like me who actually get shit done and am not on Facebook every frickin' moment of every frickin' day and still find time to volunteer, unlike those fools. It probably also benefits white people more, because of the digital divide.
On another note, I really hate people in non-swing states who wear their Obama buttons all the time. Why? It's more about them than the campaign, I feel. I only wear mine when I'm in a swing state. I feel I have weird privacy issues like that, somehow.
In terms of campaigning, my mom finally got around to doing it today in my hometown back in Michigan, and she wrote this e-mail to me this evening under the subjectline "mission accomplished":
Just stopping by the library to let you know that I worked all day on the Obama campaign. I left 59 hangee things on doors and spoke to 23 people. The best was a lady in her 30's who wanted to vote strictly for the medical marijuana proposal...forget Obama. I'm sure she thought it was for the legalization of marijuana.......you go girl!
...
I stopped by the [community college center where my father teaches sometimes] to see Dad before his class. There he was in the parking lot reading a Parker book and almost dozing off............told him I was going to tell you that.
Tomorrow I will stopping by the headquarters after I get out of work at 1pm.
Tomorrow's the BIG day.......................
Love, MomXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I wonder how her volunteering will go tomorrow. I will be in Indiana.
Reception / Colleagues.
From the program of a conference I went to this weekend:
Center for Advanced Holocaust Studies Reception
7:00pm-8:30pm...
The Center for Advanced Holocaust Studies invites all those interested in the intersection of religious studies and Holocaust studies for refreshments, networking, and conversation. For more information on our programs and fellowship opportunities, please see [weblink removed].
I also saw had dinner with my one Dutch friend's German friend, her Swedish lover, and my other German friend who was visiting last night, so I could introduce the two Germans to each other.
My one Dutch friend's German friend, who is also my friend, at some point was telling my other German friend that she would send him this essay-critique that someone in her department had written up since he would find it interesting.
"Yes," she was like, "He wrote it up in Europe and said that e-mail was too inconvenient, and since the gay website where his profile is had a texting function, we all had to sign up and make a profile so he could text us his essay from his profile, where he had pictures of his thirty-inch cock, and the information that he was a bottom. It was very difficult, but people in the humanities always have to be different, you know," she was like.
Center for Advanced Holocaust Studies Reception
7:00pm-8:30pm...
The Center for Advanced Holocaust Studies invites all those interested in the intersection of religious studies and Holocaust studies for refreshments, networking, and conversation. For more information on our programs and fellowship opportunities, please see [weblink removed].
I also saw had dinner with my one Dutch friend's German friend, her Swedish lover, and my other German friend who was visiting last night, so I could introduce the two Germans to each other.
My one Dutch friend's German friend, who is also my friend, at some point was telling my other German friend that she would send him this essay-critique that someone in her department had written up since he would find it interesting.
"Yes," she was like, "He wrote it up in Europe and said that e-mail was too inconvenient, and since the gay website where his profile is had a texting function, we all had to sign up and make a profile so he could text us his essay from his profile, where he had pictures of his thirty-inch cock, and the information that he was a bottom. It was very difficult, but people in the humanities always have to be different, you know," she was like.
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