white shirt/blouse day

I notice do, people take to the internet and present a private journal public. They have thoughts, and a power to weave and plait words. So many folk are not professional (paid), yet many professional writers are of higher self-opinion than reality proves. Why do we scribble by having fingers dance on a keyboard? Thoughts demand to be free.

These thoughts flow not constant as streams, but intermittently fall as precipitate. But journal entries are often schedulaic, and cyclical. Calendars are so. I have succumbed to this too. In a past journal, a catholic democrat from ohio, on certain dates the essay fell on the particular day corresponding to the calendar. I have done that some here also. Certain themes and series can be produced too. This is partly a compulsion towards completeness, and the notion that a story has several episodes. Now, this would make greater sense if a receptive audience was present.

I have done several saint's days, and other little biographies, and reflections on people worth considering. I had comments on commemorating other days. I missed a bunch that i would have liked to include.  On some of these i attached illustration (photos of great art, borrowed images, and a greater frequency of my own camera work), or literary quotation.  Once in class, a lab partner pointed out to me, we were to attach wires to terminals, "A is for apple, T is for transformer" said he; sort of like Sesame Street. I may this do, but not serially.

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To-day is White Shirt (blouse) Day. How many people know this? Well, people who make cars in America do (or at least did). On 11 February 1937, after forty-four days of a sit-in strike, occupying General Motors Fisher Body plant, in Flint Michigan, a victory for Americans came when General Motors agreed to negotiate with the workers' union, the United Auto Workers.

The object of the day is simple:  the white blouse (a shirt is a blouse) you wear must not get dirtier than your boss's (this is a substitute for master). One needs to know and appreciate what it means to be a worker in industrial (and post-industrial), capitalist America. The socio-political gap between 'blue collar' workers, and 'white collar' management is severe. The physical and production demands made on workers compare to be those suffered by the imprisoned and enslaved, at the fiat of prison capos and tyrannical masters.

The worker wants dignity, social justice, and economic security. In wearing a similar shirt, and keeping it in similar upkeep with those whom oversee him, it is a representation of democratic equality; albeit brotherhood and equality are absent.