i randomly came across this from looking around on the irs's website. i'm not exactly sure how the things below count as charitable contributions. seems like it ought to be deducted as part of work related expenses or the like. maybe the captains are killing the whales charitably. for the eskimos, i mean, not for the whales.

but, as always, i'm sure our fine gov't knows exactly what it's doing.

it's odd, i don't think of whaling as something that goes on anymore. i mean, are there a lot of existing eskimos, who need a lot of dead whale?





Expenses of Whaling Captains

You may be able to deduct as a charitable contribution the reasonable and necessary whaling expenses paid during the year in carrying out sanctioned whaling activities. The deduction is limited to $10,000 a year. To claim the deduction, you must be recognized by the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission as a whaling captain charged with the responsibility of maintaining and carrying out sanctioned whaling activities.

Sanctioned whaling activities are subsistence bowhead whale hunting activities conducted under the management plan of the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission.

Whaling expenses include expenses for:

*

Acquiring and maintaining whaling boats, weapons, and gear used in sanctioned whaling activities,
*

Supplying food for the crew and other provisions for carrying out these activities, and
*

Storing and distributing the catch from these activities.

http://estrip.org/elmwood/users/trisha/images/0108/th_10013030103.jpg

so i go upstairs to free my son, who isn't napping despite the fact that i KNOW he's beat, and i think, 'hm, it kinda smells like baby powder.' one second later i know just what happened, and sure enough, he's standing at his gate, COVERED from hair to feet in it, standing in a big white pile of it, smiling like a cherub (of course). what can i do but laugh? so then he laughs, and i TRY to do the right thing and tell him that's naughty, but he's laughing and i'm laughing and there's powder all over the goddamn floor. sigh......

if everyone just MADE each other a nice gift for christmas, and left it at that. yeah, there'd still be a lot of purchases going on, you'd need materials, but each thing would be so much more from the heart, rather than an obligatory object. plus it might encourage people to expand their skills and talents. you'd have to be a real cold hearted grinch to just half-ass something, or to talk trash about someone's less-than-perfect creation.

eh. what do i know. christ was born, the son of god, here you go, here's an ipod.

and that said, i write with the full knowledge that my list, while long, doesn't have a single homemade thing on it.... i definitely don't know a cobbler. and i'm not making anything for the kids, though i plan to for the adults.

in any case, it's still my very favorite holiday, despite rampant spending and bad behavior. like a simpleton, i am so easily distracted by all the shininess and sparklies, the cinnamon scents and mountains of cookies, the fact that a tree is dragged indoors and totally fucked with. i love it, every last bit.

i could be wrong, but it is my general impression that europeans don't make nearly the silly fuss about nursing in public as americans do. yet another way they are better. guess what--women are a whopping 51% of the population, which means you are in the presence of breasts 102% of the time. for the whiners who express their discomfort at me FEEDING MY CHILD, uhhhhh---that's what boobs are there for. it may surprise you to know they're not just for flashing during superbowl halftime shows.

to get freudian, perhaps we all long for the pleasure and comfort of feeding at the breast, a time before thought and memory where every need is met, and that's why both sexes find breasts fascinating (and before any ladies balk-don't deny it-think about all the time you spent from adolescence to now thinking about yours compared to hers hers or hers). i think this would apply even more to formula fed people since nursing is instinctual so that longing for the breast is there twofold.

now i am right amidst those who think la leche league moms are a bit cuckoo, but it saddens me that it's the only group of people around whom it's perfectly OK to go to it without hiding. who won't remark later...."can you believe, everything showing like that??"

many ridiculous things have caught my attention, just in the last 24 hours. a commercial for the "veteran's day mattress sale" oh right..... everyone waits all year for that, when we can honor the fine people who fought and/or died in service by purchasing a mattress.
also i noticed a sticker on a rubbermaid tote stating that it is a 'limited edition' what what??? because of its unique taupe color? lemme at 'em, these babies might be worth big cash one day........ hahaha.
the third was a bullet point on a bottle of body splash-- 'use anytime-all day or all night.' who comes up with this stuff? it's sort of infuriating, the amount spent on just what goes into making commerce work. and when you boil it down, i guess it's just another longing on my part to trade your blacksmithing skills for my delicious farm raised brown eggs, or something to that effect. damned little house on the prairie.

sorry, parents. i've got him. in the world's cutest costume....





this year he pretty much 'got it.' trick or treating was a blast.... i love my new neighborhood. i had to wonder what was going through his mind since he didn't nap and was already pretty punch drunk. he had to be like "wtf?? is this what i have to do to get candy around here?"





some of my best memories are all around halloween, me and my little brother always made out like gangbusters, and my mom almost always made our costumes. one year we were a cat and mouse and one year, dice. one year i was dracula and so was one of those REALLY overzealous adults who do up their yard and play spooky music, and i swear he grabbed me when i reached out for the candy and tried to throw me in the coffin. oh my god i screamed bloody murder, but my mom says he only grabbed my arm and gave it a tug, there was no lifting involved. what's the difference, i was TERRIFIED. but that's what it's all about, or should be a little bit.
i can hardly wait for the octopus to get older for similar shenanigans. she never made it into her hot dog costume....it was so warm (golly i remember freezing our rears off trick or treating, now it's like 70? miami of the north)....but here she is looking pretty cute anyway.




so with the candy and gramma presents, it's sort of like christmas in october around here today. november, rather.

it is alarming, at the end of the day, to see how many diapers we have gone through. i have cloth ones in my possession, and don't feel the slightest bit guilty about not using them....the both of them are fortunate enough for now not to be sitting in it.....once in a while *i* get to use the bathroom as well. things are possible with the first kid that just aren't now, i'm learning. she'll live, i'm sure....and surely the landfill has a little extra room. i'll just tell myself that.

whoa, jeebus. having 2 is intense. i am averaging about 4 hours of sleep per 24, if "lucky" ---if i was in my 40s i feel this would be impossible. as it is, i am looking forward to that decade since it might be then that i can sleep again. eh. whine whine.

unruly dogs and their overprivileged owners, that schizo naptime woodpecker, the feist ipod commercial, ennui, the word ennui, sleeplessness, most food, boxes and bags, thinking about shelving, itchy itchy itchy belly skin, tv, "you're all baby," pillow between the legs, massive banana consumption, "breaking" the boy of the bee, chipped teeth, what is and isn't in my control, waiting, waiting, waiting.

mostly it is boredom, an unforeseen necessary routine, tarnished by so much physical incapability, made dull by months of repetition.
but then how the trinkets of parenthood can shine shine shine...




remember this is worth that.

and who decides? this is the underlying topic of this pretty crazy NYTimes article i read
in which the Massachusetts Museum of Modern Art goes ahead and displays this behemoth exhibit against the artist's wishes. It isn't finished and gives an inaccurate impression of the artist and his work, but the museum is way overbudget and overdeadline and has to cough up some "product."

morally reprehensible, for sure, and sure to damage both the museum and the artist since what ended up getting displayed sounds like pure crap compared to the artist's conception of it. however, he did request a fuselage...and the museum is footing some exponential bills on this guy's list....so.......

the article takes the side of the artist, and gets a little preachy with this quote: "Never underestimate the amount of resentment and hostility we harbor toward artists. It springs largely from envy. They can behave quite badly, but mainly they operate with a kind of freedom and courage that other people don't risk or enjoy. And it can lead to wondrous things." but ultimately, i agree. and i had definitely been doing some eye rolling for the "vision" of the artist in requesting these outlandish things, and having someone else have to deliver, so it is a valid point to make.

in the end, the writer opines that it is the artist who gets to say, "this is not a work of art unless i say so' .....now this is so tricky. can i put olives on toothpicks and glue them around my toilet seat, and call it art? then a gallery or museum i am trying to get into can call it 'not art', but it actually IS art because i made it and i say so? how sassy. so all it comes down to is confidence and an all-powerful creative gavel?

i have to agree with leo tolstoy, who wrote that the intention of the artist has to be properly received and felt by the observer in order for it to be art which sounds simple and rule-ish but deals with the emotion and communication that must be present for art to be art.

and unfortunately, Buchel loses all around here, as his intentions are muddled in the unfinished work and so certainly cannot be conveyed. all this is going to trial, some interesting debates should be generated by who has what rights in that realm, and who decides the laws of art...... poor Mass MoCA sounds pretty fucked......