Early Menopause in the Art Gallery

While I mostly enjoyed our class field-trip to the Art Gallery, it was a little uncomfortable. Something was weird about the temperature in the building. Moving from room to room, I felt like I was entering slightly different climates. One exhibit would be cold and dry, another warm and humid, and the rest somewhere in between. By the end of the hour and a half, I felt like I was going a little crazy.

Fast forward a month (or however long ago that was...I'm pretty sleep-deprived) and I'm sitting at home reading the Journal online. There's an article about new exhibits coming to the AGA. Lo and behold, it explains my awkward inability to regulate temperature at the AGA! Apparently, the new gallery has a climate control system which holds each exhibit at the exact right temperature and humidity needed for the particular mediums to stay preserved. Who knew! I did a little googling and decided it's actually pretty interesting. Each exhibit is like a high-maintenance baby, and the AGA can support them fully, whereas the old Edmonton Art Gallery could not. Either way, I'm glad it's the building and not me...

http://www.eiccontrol.com/productos/productos/productos%20onset/art-collection.pdf

http://www.edmontonjournal.com/travel/Gallery+Alberta+announces+next+exhibits/3988639/story.html

On the first day of Chanukah my true love gave to me...a forest fire?

Chanukah started on Wednesday night. Jews around the world symbolically lit the first of eight candles in the yearly celebration to commemorate the revolt of the Maccabees and the Second Temple in Jerusalem. As the story goes, the Maccabees reclaimed the temple but returned only to rubble. They looked for oil to light the menorah, but found only enough for one night. Miraculously the oil lasted for eight nights, a "Chanukah miracle." This is why we now light a Chanukiah (an eight-armed candelabra, essentially, with an extra spot in the middle for the "helper candle") for eight nights in a row, adding an additional candle on each night. Hence the term for Chanukah is "The Festival of Lights."

Israelis celebrated the Festival of Lights in a tragic way this year. On Thursday, technically the first "day" of Chanukah as it began on sundown Wednesday, a huge forest fire erupted in the Northern tip of the country. While Israel is obviously a dry area, being in the Middle East and all, forest fires of this magnitude are not typical. The fire was not natural, and is thought to have arisen from foul-play of some sort, perhaps involving two teenage boys (although this is far from confirmed). It was finally put out today, four days later. A total of 41 people lost their lives, and others are in critical condition.

What struck me as amazing was the ability of Israel's neighbours to put aside their political tensions and join together for a humane cause. Israel is a small country. They did not have the resources to fight such a large-scale and unexpected fire on their own. As the North exploded into flames, Israel found itself fighting an internal fire with some external help: namely, Palestinian firefighters, Turkish fire-fighting planes and equipment, and help from Jordan and Egypt. While it is not a new nor unheard of thing for these countries to be interacting in a positive way, it is often pushed aside by the media in favour of more polarizing stories claiming that Jews and Arabs all hate each other and revel in the deaths of one another. While things in the middle east have been rocky, particularly in the last four years or so, this polarizing view is far from the truth. Yes, there are many people who are strongly on one side or the other, but there are also many in the middle who strongly believe in the concept of peace and coexistance. While it is true that the forest fire brought out delight in some, such as the leader of Hamas, this was certainly not the sentiment of all, as seen obviously by the physical support sent in from Palestine, Turkey, Jordan, and Egypt.

With the continuous failure of peace negotiations comes more and more polarizing sentiment, making it easy to overlook the very real ability for peace. For one reason or another, it is particularly hard outside of Israel to convince people that Arabs and Jews are not arch-nemeses. I have found myself to be stereotyped as a Right-Wing anti-Arab, either as soon as someone knows I am Jewish or that I support the state of Israel. This could be no farther from the truth! The majority of those that I know who are in support of Israel are also vehement supporters of a future Palestinian state. Being a supporter of Israel merely means being in support of the country's right to exist: no more, no less. After that, there is no agreement on anything. Literally. As the saying goes: 2 Jews, 3 opinions. In Israel, I have been able to have wonderful conversations and debates with Jews, Christians, Muslims, and non-religious people on the situation in the Middle East. In Israel, some of my favourite cafes, markets, and neighbourhoods are run by Arab-Israelis. I have been to Jordan and to Turkey, and loved both countries and the people that I met there. So I guess what I'm saying is that the firefighting help from surrounding countries did not particularly surprise me, but did reinforce some of the hopes that I have for the future State of Israel and its neighbours. On a ground-level, it is very common to see inhabitants getting along and living side-by-side. On a national and visible level, this is a whole different story, which really makes the help from Jordan, Turkey, Palestine and Egypt add that much more to the story of the Chanukah blaze.

Now, enough procrastinating....back to the books...

Marcel the Shell With Shoes On

http://vimeo.com/14190306

Lady Gaga's Penis

Well, now that I have your attention...I really have nothing to say about Lady Gaga's lack of penis. Although I do think it would be pretty cool if she was a hermaphrodite, as she might be able to really educate and spread awareness about the range of sexes and genders. But anyways, that's a different story.

What really stuck out for me in the Jessica Valenti piece was how happy she was with the fact that Lady Gaga mentioned the word "misogynist" in an interview. I'm sorry, but why is this so impressive? Maybe instead of applauding Lady Gaga for her feminist (although apparently she does not label herself as a feminist, another problem as perhaps she doesn't understand the concept properly) views, we should be asking why this is so special. Instead of taking it as the norm that most really famous pop-stars don't bring up feminism and politics and therefore applauding Lady Gaga when she does, why don't we expect pop stars to have opinions on important issues and wonder why the ones who don't voice it stay silent? If Lady Gaga was in one of my university classes and expressed her opinions, she would probably get some nods of agreement and we would move on. In a liberal arts setting, her views are far from revolutionary and are actually fairly common. Sure, it's not the job of pop stars to have opinions per se, but I'm sure that they do. However, I'm also fairly certain that when most pop stars sit down for an interview, the questions the reporter has prepared for them aren't all that political. In the case of Lady Gaga, this is different. So, as this is turning into somewhat of a confusing rant, and I'm not really sure what I think or where I'm going with this, I'll end with a question: If all pop stars were asked their opinions on feminism and politics, would we hear the word "misogynist" more often?

Observing the Perfect Barista

As someone who used to work at a Starbucks in my first few years of University, I have become quite addicted to the company. While my physical addiction is obviously to the caffeine, this can be satisfied by any cup of joe (maybe not as well, but anything coffee-related will at the least prevent caffeine-withdrawal headaches). What really brings me back to Starbucks repeatedly is the atmosphere: cozy with the perfect amount of lighting, it serves as a needed alternative to the tense climate of certain libraries on campus.

Needless to say, I spend a lot of time in various Starbucks throughout the West End of the city. One in particular has been my go-to study spot for the past two years, as it is far enough from my house that I don't have to worry about running into everyone that I know, but close enough that it is only a 10 minute journey in comparison to the 25 minute drive to campus.

Whenever I can, I sit in the same spot: square corner table, right next to the power outlets. From my spot of choice I can clearly see everything that's going on in the store, but I'm secluded enough to be productive if I don't feel like procrastinating.

Tonight I decide to watch the Baristas behind the counter, observing the familiar through a fresh set of eyes. It's fairly quiet in the store, just a friend and I studying in the corner and another couple sitting a few tables down. Two of the Baristas and the Manager are interacting with each other, casual banter and laughter ensues. But the fourth one on shift keeps to himself. He takes every order at the counter with a smile and a friendly tone of voice: distancing but not fake, creating the perfect "second home" environment that the Starbucks motto encourages. When there are no customers to interact with, he walks over to the pastry case and puts on a pair of plastic gloves. He removes a pastry from it's glass enclosure, places it on the cutting board, and meticulously severs it into perfect pieces. He removes the exact amount of tiny paper holders and places them in a white glass serving plate, filling them with the perfectly cut samples. With the proper glove-removing procedures, he rids himself of the white hand covers, folds them into four, and places them smoothly in the garbage. Straightening out his apron, he walks over to our corner with a smile on his face and samples in hand. I politely decline as I've just eaten dinner. I watch the smile on his face quickly fall: all his hard work at making everything just right...for an unappreciative customer who doesn't notice. But I have! I've been watching (is that creepy...?). "Wait, actually, I'll take one!" I exclaim as he starts to walk away. He turns around again with the perfect polite smile, and hands both of us a little sample, pleased that we can enjoy the small pleasures of a coffee shop. I eat it. I don't want it, but I eat it anyways. Now he can feel the sense of accomplishment of a job well done. It looks like he enjoys it.

Reaction

Ah, winter. It's arrival is signified by the return of the Pumpkin Spice Latte and the imminent Christmas carol soundtrack that is all too short and repeats every hour during your marathon study sessions at Starbucks. Every year around this time, I find myself cursing the fact that I have to wear socks after months of flip-flops and flats, and in turn cursing my parents for bringing us to this place that turns into a windy freezer for eight months of the year. "Why," I will ask, "did you leave the gorgeous and temperate climate of Cape Town for Edmonton, of all places." To which they usually point out that I am safe to walk around by myself and have yet to be held up at gunpoint in this icebox known as Canada.

...

Point for Rodney and Sharon.

Anyways, back to handling winter in Edmonton. While there obviously are things that I despise about it, I can't help but get secretly excited at the coziness factor that it brings on. There's something extremely comforting about, while ridiculous, dressing yourself in sheepskin boots, a jacket that could double as a sleeping bag, or a backwards fleece sweater that makes you look like a smurf. Sitting in front of a fire (or the fireplace channel, I suppose, may be used as a substitute), you can cozy up on the couch and watch the snow fall while drinking your (insert favorite hot beverage/wine here). I'm not sure if it's actually really enjoyable, or we convince ourselves that it is so that we feel better about hibernating inside, but either way, it's not half bad. Winter: the season of paradox. We complain when it's too cold because we can't go outside, but we complain when it's too warm because we can't hold enough snow for a good ski season. Ah well, I guess were used to it by now. But it's fun to complain anyways.

Eric Tillman: Justified GM for Eskimos?

Edmontonians have recently learned that the newly-hired Eric Tillman pleaded guilty to charges of sexual assault early on in the year. While some may argue that this has nothing to do with his ability to coach a football team, I feel that it is pretty disgusting and Tillman should not be a representative for a major sports team in Edmonton. Tillman will be coaching, mentoring, and representing a team that represents our city, therefore a message is being sent that Edmontonians are ok with sexual assault, or at the very least willing to sweep it under the carpet. This is the very attitude that many organizations have been working tirelessly against for decades. Sexual assault is an abuse of power and of dominance, and its victims can be scarred in many ways for life. One out of three women and one out of six men will be sexually assaulted in some way in their lifetime, and the majority will never come forward about it because they are scared it will be brushed off or they will not be believed. By hiring Tillman so soon after his violation of a teenage girl, the Eskimos are reinforcing the idea that sexual assault is not a big deal and can be ignored. Why is it ok for a perpetrator of such an awful crime to be placed in a very public and esteemed role? Another excuse for Tillman's behavior is that he was under the influence of medication at the time of his assault. This is yet another classic excuse, although it is usually alcohol that is presented as the drug at fault. This excuse does not carry through for other crimes. If Tillman was in a car accident while on the medications, his excuse could not have been that he was under the influence. For those familiar with sexual assault cases, it is a tried excuse which unfortunately works in many cases. The bottom line is, that unless Tillman goes above and beyond in raising awareness for sexual assault and proving that he has learned from his mistake, I would be embarrassed to say that I am from a city that condones such actions.