I just want art in my mailbox.

I don't think I have talked about this before, but in the last few months I have been working on a project. It is not anywhere near completed but I do need your help.

For years, my mom worked on her own Literature magazine. I have decided to take it over and make it my own. So far we (me and some friends/editors) have our website up NewStoneCircle.org. Like it says, we are far from the printing press, but we are looking for submissions. Send us your work (Look at our submission guidelines for what and where to send). Tell friends who like to write or draw, maybe they would like to submit. Send us a donation (we are in desperate need of some money before we can get to much more). But you might want to wait for us to get nonprofit status so it's tax deductible for you. Just help us out and we promise to bring you something very enjoyable in the very near future.

I'm really excited about this and I can't wait to read your stories.

Bulls Testicles and Pig Blood

I assume the title will make everyone dry heave. I'll give you a moment.

. . .

Done? Good.

I'm interested in why most people would have such a problem eating this type of food. There are cultures who don't see a problem with eating the balls of a male cow. A few generations ago, you would have seen nothing wrong with it ether. Something has changed to make parts of the animal like blood a taboo.

I think it comes from our gradual movement to an urban society. We rely on other people to deal with our food. In the past, people who wanted to eat some bacon had to go out and kill the pig first. Now people who want bacon just have to cross the street and pick up shrink-wrapped and precut bacon.

Now, people are soft (a phrase I would rather not use, but just might have to). The idea of killing an animal is so disturbing because it has been bred out. When it was second nature, we didn't waste any part of the animal. Blood and organs were not offensive like they are now.

I have never been one to become nostalgic for a bygone day, and I'm not doing so right now. I am more arguing for new experiences. I'm not talking from experience, myself. I have not killed my own animal; seen an animal slaughtered; or even gotten to know an animal and found it on my dinner table. But It seems like a more healthy life. Perhaps watching death would make us think twice about what we eat.

The Reader has a great article in this weeks paper, kind of about this issue.

I'd like to be able to experience this for myself. It's sounds like a of part of the slow food movement, which is something I've been skeptical about. Maybe I'm changing my mind.

The Call

I just got a call from some guy. When I answered he said "Hunny?!?" I said hello again. "Who is this?" he asked clearly befuddled and a little mad.

Do you think he thinks his "Hunny" is cheating on him. One can only hope, hmm.

Cute! Part Deux

About a year ago, I found a picture of some sort of swimming salamander/fish with legs/smiling cuteness. I didn't know what it was or if it was even real, but I figured it should be on my blog.

Here's the picture if you don't remember.

Today I found this article on Digg.com. Apparently, it is real and it's called Axolotls (ACK-suh-LAH-tuhl) or "Mexican walking fish." And treehugger.com says the Axolotls "is seriously threatened with extinction because of habitat destruction and water pollution."

Hell of a Day to be in Newspapers

Update: The first run of Chicago Tribune's paper yesterday was at 690,000 copies, with a rerun of 410,000 extra copies, said the Tribune. Today, they will sell more copies at convenience stores. Here's the link.

I don't think there is an unclaimed copy of the Tribune, Sun-Times or Red Eye left in the city. And I wanted to read today's paper. Ok ok and maybe I wanted to keep something as a memento.

I heard that they were selling reprinted copies downtown at the Tribune Tower. I went down and ran into this . . .

They said they were selling posters of the front page for $3 and something just came over me. Money exchanged hands and I was told there would be a 10 minute wait for the actual paper. I waited with about 50 other people inside what can only be called the Gothic Cathedral of my kind. A huge room with high ceilings and notable quotes of famous journalists written into the walls.

After a 15 or 20 minute wait a woman came in calling out that the truck was on the bridge. Her declaration met with applause. The truck rolled up and a few burly men ran in with papers in hand.

Really I just wanted to read the newspaper.

Second City Syndrome

Last night we all watched history being written. I could almost see myself telling my grandchildren what I was doing when Obama was elected President. But the intricacies of the historical context should be discussed in another blog, by another more knowledgeable person. I can only talk about what I know best: living in Chicago and feeling inadequate.

Today, November 5th, is the happiest day for Chicago. Today seems brighter, the air smells better, people are more polite. People don there Obama '08 T-Shirts and walk around smiling. I was on the bus today and people were laughing. The bus driver was joking with the passengers.

This city has always been talkative. Chicago is a Midwestern sensibility with a large population. Strangers will always tell you what they do or do not like about you. But todays seemed less crabby; less of the do not and more of the do. This comes from the destruction of what is called the Second City Syndrome.

The Chicago contradiction is that we think the Midwest consists of only Chicago, but we think we are always second best. "Where Chicago goes, Illinois goes," probably should be our mantra. But we will never meet the expectations of a New York or a San Fransisco.

This is how we Chicagoans think, but our minds are changing. Last night we saw the countries newest President Elect give his acceptance speech in our backyard. We saw our beautiful city on TV sets across the world. Obama is a person who cut his political teeth helping make the South Side a better place to live and he calls Chicago his home.

Chicago has always been on the map, but now it is in our minds. Now we can see what a wonderful city it really is.