Oh the system...

I hope that some of you can take the time to write to Senator Corker. While I probably sent him a letter two months ago, the fact that someone actually responded is rare and awesome. I suggest joining PETA's newsletter and choosing the option that allows PETA to send you petitions and letter signing projects. It's where I get a lot of my information and inspiration for personal activist projects. It took me literally 5 minutes to write a letter, and I got to spread the word of animal rights to another person that probably would not consider them. Word to your motha and senator corker.

now read:

Dear Ms. Whittenburg,

Thank you for taking the time to contact my office to share your concerns about non-animal test methods and the Interagency Coordinating Committee on the Validation of Alternative Methods (ICCVAM). Your input is important to me, and I appreciate the time you took to share your thoughts.

I share your concerns over the lengthy process in which ICCVAM has approved non-animal test methods by federal agencies, and I appreciate your interest and dedication to this issue and to the safety of animals and public health in general. Thank you also for bringing to my attention the NAS report calling for more efficient non-animal test methods for dangerous substances, it is my hope that Congress will look further into ICCVAM and the approval of these tests. The insight you've given here will certainly help us more effectively look into this issue and I thank you for your input.

Thank you again for your letter. I hope you will continue to share your thoughts with me.

Sincerely,

Bob Corker
United States Senator

Smeop

This is completely irrelevant to the Animal Rights Movement.

When I get punchy and it's 3:30 in the morning... I write odd child-like poems. Umm... I'm an exquisite specimen of a human being so don't judge me!


A slick and sticky bond

Grip is for the sticky.
The sticky stick to all.
If they stick then they are stuck.
For sure, they cannot fall.
There are also the slick and slender.
They slick and slender by.
The stuck can only guess the slick world-
for they cannot see outside.
The stuck ones’ only movement
is the motion of their eyes.
But soon those eyes too are stuck,
as those two sockets hold on tight.
After all, movement is pointless
if you have nothing to give.
The sticky have no stories.
All they have is stick.
Moving on, the slick are next.
They never stay or hold.
The friction keeps them warm,
but their traveling hearts are cold.
The slick and slender have ease of form,
and the world’s turning moves them on.
The slick see what the stuck imagine,
but speed detaches their thoughts.
The world means nothing to the slick,
as there is nothing in their world.
Everything is only anything
when colors have time to absorb.
There was a day- or it could have been night-
it does not matter which-
that one slick and slender slicked too close to one that sticks.
The sticky happened to get stuck on the back of the passing other.
The stuck felt terror;
the slick felt weary,
but the sticky clash bonded them as brothers.
The sticky, being on the slender back,
could only see behind.
So as stuck as the sticky was,
the view was always a new find.
The slick one still moved along,
as a slick and slender must.
But as slick as this one was,
the new stuck passenger slowed his thrust.
The one that was sticky,
who had never felt the wind,
grew to love his new slick brother,
and he called him his best friend.
His slick companion felt the same and his world, too, began to change.
The moving images had slowed down,
and the colors became distinct.
The slick one and the sticky one had changed each one’s world;
but the slick could still slick forward,
and the sticky could still take hold.
The sticky never want to be slick;
They only wish to know more.
The slick would never choose to stop;
they only want time to explore.

Feliz Día de la Madre

¡Feliz Día de la Madre!

Hola Mama. Tu eres la mejor madre del mundo. Yo sé que hay cosas que te causen mucho estrés, especialmente durante este tiempo con las problemas de la familia. Pero, eres muy impresionante con su capacidad de cargar de dos hijos, una casa, y un esposo- todos que pueden ser muy difíciles y ingratos. Tengo mucho respeto a tí. Durante este tiempo loco, tu tienes un amor más fuerte y hermoso que otros de su situación podrían dar. Tú y yo vamos a polemizarnos y no voy a estar en acuerdo a tí siempre, pero en este Día de la Madre, yo quiero que sepas que tu eres una heroína con todo que haces para mí y cuando nos polemizamos, te amo mucho y veo todo que haces. Tú mereces más que puedo darte ahora, pero cuando vivo la vida de mis sueños, una vida que le debe a mi madre, daré el Día de la Madre cada día. Tenga un excelente día y nunca te olvide que tú eres muy importante y yo no podría sobrevivir sin su orientación.


¡Adiós!

Su hija
Su Katie

The Cross I Bear

It is about 4:30 on Sunday morning, and I cannot sleep. For some reason, I am anxious as an escape con with an illegal immigrant in his backpack. This blog post is more or less a way for me to get out of my head and onto the page.



I feel an incessant pull from the cosmos to save the world, be a creative genius, and be a good friend/ family member. Working hard everyday just to be "myself" is exhausting, and my health is suffering for it. I am not writing this to whine... or maybe I am. Fuck if I know. I need a break from myself. Honestly, I don't know how you put up with me. Christ.

I have learned, though, that I have neglected paying attention to myself. Like today, I was at the gym at 9 pm and was the only one in this room. I decided to do some yoga, and all of a sudden I just got really emotional. everything that had been resting in my joints and my muscles and my head rushed out during my forward fold. I know that sounds so hippie-like and cliche to have a startling epiphany during yoga, but it really happened. I stood up, looked in the mirror, and felt everything that I had hidden from. The pain in my back, the tightness of my breath, and the tears behind my eyes became very real. Today was too much, and yoga, yoda, yogi, yoshi, whoever, told me so. I visited my grandparents in Crossville, TN with my mother, father, brother, and aunt. I had to hide that I was vegan from my grandmother; I ignored that my grandmother used the word nigger; I looked down only on my plate because everyone else around me was eating ham, butter, cheese, eggs, etc.; I ignored that my family is constantly correcting little things I say; I held my tongue 90% of the time on the car trip there even though I wanted to talk about the chicken farm I saw, the poverty I saw, and the dog on a 2 ft. chain outside in the heat with no shade; I did this because no one cares about those things when it's a lovely Saturday afternoon in Bumblefuck, TN where ignorance is bliss and celebrated with ham, sausage, fried chicken, fishing, and mounting the deer head on the mantle all in one day. Wasteful decisions are commonplace and tradition, and tradition is the backbone of this great nation of niggers and meat-eaters, according to the gene pool that I sink in. Snide remarks are Christian and in-line with the word of God when they are against the different- the black, the vegan, the animal. I saw my family dump pipes and and old shit from the yard into a hole in the earth and just bury it there with no remorse for the earth that was being destroyed. I am sick and tired. Literally, sick. Literally, tired. But there is no cure and there is no sleep for the blogging vegan who writes to an audience of one (herself) and a few certain bored people that do not seek to evolve or learn or change, but rather to argue and condemn. They want nothing more than put me on the "cross I bear", hammer nails into my body, and mount the crazy vegan on their mantle to claim victory for God and the American way. Sometimes I just feel like everyone is living the American dream and needs to wake up and see that they're dying, they're killing, and their heads are in the clouds of a heaven that no one seems to agree on. Such vague notions come from dreams, yet in America, the less we know the better. That's why Paris Hilton and George Bush thrive. Dreaming of wealth, dreaming of heaven is fantastic, but when the earth swallows you in volcanoes and ice or the elephant escapes the torture of the circus and stomps you, your SUV, your child, and his happy meal into the ground, you will then know what is meant by returning to the earth. It will sound and feel much less romantic than it does when the preacher sings it to your soul.

Frick............... that was unexpected. It needed to get out of my body. We all have to vent, and blogs are known for their ventilation.


Facts about me:
I am a liberal. I do not believe that Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. I do not pray to God. I curse on an hourly basis. I don't trust the government or Wal-Mart (They are pretty much the same thing). I hate when fat people eat at McDonald's. I like to make inappropriate jokes. Painting is more important to me than donating money to Africa. I see myself in the animals I work to save. I believe in human rights, but to a certain extent I fucking hate humans. I can never make a solid decision about the insignificant details of life. My music tastes change daily. I hate the movie RENT. I hate RENT in general. I feel uncomfortable at home. I hate the way I look 75% of the time. I sit down in the shower. When I go to Starbucks I color in the coloring books they provide for little kids. I always forget to put on deodorant. I hate visiting relatives. I think that distinguishing between Democrat and Republican is redundant because they both lead to the same end. I do not believe peace is possible but I think it is the most important fight. I don't think Southpark is funny. I resent many of my friends for not being there for me during some hard times. I don't stand up for myself. People who buy products without considering sweatshop labor or animal testing are absurd and infuriating because it is such a simple and meaningful gesture.



(deep breath)


Genuinely: Happy Sunday! I hope however you spend it- in church, at home, with family, alone, whatever- is how you want to spend it and brings you great joy. Just don't infringe upon my way of spending a vegan Sunday.


Nutritional Info:
100% Daily Value of Vegan Angst

Frederick Douglas Resuscitation

I have plans.

A Small Brain Is Easy To Swallow

You know the facts.
They’re in your mouth.
You swallow them three times a day.
They stick in your teeth and remind your friends
That facts cannot get in your way.
You’re so fucking clever.
Your words so well formed-
The facts beside them so plain.
You laugh,
You breathe,
You live,
To eat…
Eat down the suffering.
You take big bites and swallow hard;
It turns you on how strong you feel.
Those facts so small
Are flattened by your jaw,
But one or two appear.
You know the facts.
A few rest there
In between your blood-stained teeth.
You pick and brush and scrub and scream
And your own blood begins to seep.
Those tiny facts that I talk about
That define my everyday
Are eating you from the inside out.
They learned from your own ways.
The small are easy to ignore
When your mouth is full of shit.
But they have their place and because of you
They break you bit by bit.
So swallow hard and pray to your God
That the filth filling your mouth
Will be cleaned by your slick words
That slither for a way out.
Your mouth is what got you in trouble
But your mouth can change it all.
Spit out the food.
Spit out the facts.
It’s so simple because they’re so small.

Short and friggin vegan

Guys and Dolls is a hoot. 

Come see it.

Don't eat meat.