Welcome to Maoist Orange Cake. Each week one of our Divas posts a thoughtful (but not necessarily serious) essay on whatever calls forth her Voice or strikes her Fancy. We invite you to join us wherever the discussion leads.
Motto of the MOC: Sincere, yes. Serious? Never!

"I would also like to add that ‘Maoist Orange Cake’ is possibly the best name for a blog ever. Just my twopence." -- The Sixth Carnival of Radical Feminists, 1 October 2007


The Twelfth Carnival of Radical Feminists is up at The Burning Times blog and mentions one of our posts, Helen 'Wheels' Keller, for recommendation. Orangeists spreading our zest!
Showing posts with label Seattle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seattle. Show all posts

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Meeting in Ballard


Over at our birth-blog, Dykes to Watch Out For, the subject of a meeting of bloggers in the Seattle area has come up. A number of us live in the neighborhood of Ballard (home of the largest Norwegian Constitution Day parade this side of Bergen), so we have decided to meet in the restaurant at the historic Sunset Bowl at 1420 NW Market Street. The bowling alley, which has been around at least as long as I have, is closing for good in April, leaving Seattle with a total of five bowling alleys within the city limits. It will be demolished and replaced by— Well, if you know anything about the recent history of Ballard, it won’t be hard for you to guess. It’s a five-letter word that begins with a “c” and ends with an “o”. We will thrash out the details here among us Orangeists and Bechdel fans; if you can make it, you’re invited. All we really need to decide is the date and time. Considering the impending doom of the Bowl, it had better be the first week in April. I am not available on Saturday, April 5—Legislative District caucuses!

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Monday, September 17, 2007

Death in Tashkent

Mark Weil was murdered a week ago, and no one knows why. I spotted the story on the front page of the Post-Intelligencer, and it seemed to connect, in random fashion, to me and my interests: theatre, Central Asia, and Seattle.

Some thirty years ago, Mark Weil, a Jewish Uzbek, founded the Ilkhom Theatre in Tashkent, in what was then the Uzbek S.S.R. Directing an independent theatre in the old Soviet Union was crazy enough, but doing it in Uzbekistan—just as dictatorial and with Islamic radicals to boot—takes someone insanely courageous. Neither polity has been known for welcoming independent, thought-provoking, Western-style theatre. Yet Ilkhom Theatre has flourished and become internationally known, staging productions around the world.

An article on Eurasianet.org reports:

“The Ilkhom Theater was famous for staging plays that explored controversial social and political topics. Among the company’s most sensitive productions in recent years was one titled White White Black Stork. The play explored homosexuality in a Muslim society, specifically examining the relationship of two students in a madrassa, or religious school. It also featured dialogue that was critical of conservative traditions”

The two men who stabbed Weil and clubbed him with a bottle on the doorstep of his apartment building on September 7 are still uncaptured, and their motives are unknown. Speculation ranges from politics to anti-Semitism to crazed druggies. But there’s no question artists and intellectuals in Uzbekistan are scared.


Mr. Weil’s last words were reportedly “I open new season tomorrow and everything must happen…” The new season at the Ilkhom started on schedule, despite the murder, with the Oresteia of Aeschylus, a trilogy of plays about vengeance, bloodshed, and reconciliation by rule of law in a democracy.

And the Seattle connection? Weil has directed more than one play in Seattle (though I don’t think I ever saw one), and his wife and daughters live here. His older daughter graduated from the University of Washington in 1999, and the younger sings and plays piano with a band. Oh, and Taskent is a sister city of Seattle. Seattle sorrows with her sister.

http://www.ilkhom.com/English
http://www.eurasianet.org/departments/insight

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Thursday, April 26, 2007

The Fremont Troll


In the Fremont neighborhood of Seattle, under the Aurora Avenue North bridge, is a large sculpture of a troll. He has one hubcap eye, and in his hand he grips a full-size Volkswagon beetle. This is his song.

THE FREMONT TROLL
lyrics copyright by Jana C. Hollingsworth
Tune: "My Grandfather's Clock" (slightly modified)

When you take a drive down Highway 99,
Beware when you come to the bridge.
Somewhere between Lake Union and the brine,
Somewhere beyond Phinney Ridge--
Beware! Beware! The Fremont Troll!
Underneath Aurora North you'll find his trollish hole.
He keeps an eye on traffic better than the State Patrol.
The Fre Mont Troll.

Peugeots, he reports, taste singularly fine,
And Volkswagon bugs make his day.
On Honda Accords he'll regularly dine,
And sometimes a rare Chevrolet.
Beware! Beware! The Fremont Troll!
Every auto moving he regards as rightful toll.
No race or nationality escapes his breakfast bowl.
The Fre Mont Troll.

Do not be too harsh upon a simple soul
Who noshes on Hyundai and Saab.
He's doing his part our traffic to control,
And doing a wonderful job.
Three cheers! Three cheers! The Fremont Troll!
The city of Seattle should commend him on the whole.
Eliminating gridlock is his amiable goal.
The Fre Mont Troll.
The Fre (clap clap) Mont (clap clap) Troll. (clap - clap)

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