tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75340046457285274792007-09-16T12:49:19.547-07:00krBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7534004645728527479.post-65331719940267818132007-07-22T16:57:00.002-07:002007-07-22T16:58:10.388-07:00In a number of years<br />Nothing will be left<br />All swept away in the mists<br />And flames<br />Of generations of humans<br />Not concerned with the destruction of the planet<br />Caring only<br />For that next<br />SUV<br />That cold Biggie cream shake<br />"Give it to me Baby!"<br />we all scream,<br />and how<br /><br /><i>- Christian Marks</i>krtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7534004645728527479.post-7096833433122036942007-07-22T16:57:00.001-07:002007-07-22T16:57:31.407-07:00Authenticity is<br />Found in the ironic laugh<br />Dripping from Al Gore's patented shoes<br />Leaking from the diesel tank of David Suzuki's bus<br />Oozing from Edward Burtynksy's photography equipment as he snaps shot after shot of our manufactured landscape.<br /><br />Authenticity is<br />Found in the salty tear<br />Dripping from a Chinese worker's eye as she sews together Al Gore's shoes<br />Leaking from the pores of Bangladesh laborers, shipping off diesel for Suzuki's bus<br />Oozing from a hungry African girl, crouched in a diamond field, watching Burtynsky eat a sandwich and photograph her landscape.<br /><br />Authenticity is the silence that falls on a casket after the final eulogy has been spoken.<br /><br />It's a child's gasp of horror, wonder or surprise as the world unfolds its mysteries, one gasp after another.<br /><br />It's the two coins donated by a woman on welfare, versus the piles of bills offered by the rich.<br /><br />It's the quiet heartbeat of humanity being dulled by<br />layer upon layer of fast food and greed.<br /><br />It's the groan of creation watching itself be stripped bare, unable to be heard.<br /><br />Authenticity is a word whose definition we no longer understand.<br /><br /><i>-Emily Wierenga</i>krtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7534004645728527479.post-51462841819202474502007-07-22T16:56:00.002-07:002007-07-22T16:57:14.788-07:00After my father died - heart condition - I didn't take that much time off work. I was working casual hours in a retail job that a monkey could do, and not one of those smart monkeys who fly planes and stuff. Taking time off would mean not getting paid, and the idea of keeping myself busy in a difficult time had its appeal.<br /><br />The hardest part was facing my manager. He had this frozen smile he wore in every situation, something he'd obviously learned in manager-school that over overrode everything resembling an emotion. Angry customer? Frozen smile. Late employee? Frozen smile. Grief? Frozen smile.<br /><br /><i>-Jody MacGregor</i>kr