To those who have left behind childish things

Come on in.  I know the den is a bit dusty from disuse, and I could make excuses, but I won't.  There are some oranges to enjoy, grab a couple and pull up a patch of dirt.

A friend posted a picture on G+, and I've seen it before, in a couple different contexts.  Each time I've seen it I've had a tear in my eye, and today, I saw it and admitted to my love why it touched me.

Even just putting in the image, I feel the tears well up, my chest hitches, and I go blurry eyed.  Like many people I know, sleep is not a friend.  I've always played it off that I can sleep anywhere.  I can do that because I'm always exhausted.  Cuz that little boy, he is me.

I've had nightmares every single night for as long as I can remember.  When I was young, around 8, they were so terrible, I would wake screaming, screeching, flailing.  My mother, a woman who tried her best to deal with a precocious, terribly troubled and troubling child, did everything she could to help.  Even brought in the church folks to bless the room, do anything.  They said it was my Masters of the Universe quilt.  I told them my nightmares went away after it was gone.  I didn't want to lose anymore stuff.

I remember being so small and scared in bed.  I had tons of stuffies lined up along the side, all silent sentinels set to scout any scourge to my slumber.  I believed in them to keep me safe.  I never had just the one teddy, I had at least five, and elephants, and monkeys.  All arranged to watch over me.  

They did their job.  I never died of fright.  They helped me internalize what was so frightening, and I forced my dreams under my own control.  I wrested away from the night my terrors and dream lucidly now.  Hundreds of dreams.  I wake in the morning feeling I've walked miles, seen dozens of worlds, lived another week for each day.  I wake tired and worn.  Did when I was 8, I will when I am 80.

The nightmares have never stopped, and still I keep small things about to keep watch.  Until recently I always knew Xuxa was there to keep me safe, now it's Pixie's job.  It's my friends' job, who visit me in my mind as I attempt some form of rest.  

But for those small, cheaply made, glassy eyed creatures.  Those little soldiers in a nightly war.  Those embodiments of my mother and family, and their love.  What I miss is their assured victory.  That 8 year old boy never died.  They kept watch with their simple weapons hidden, to defend me as that lone bear does above.  And I always knew I would wake up the next morning.  

Leaving behind those childish things, I mourn for them, for the ability to know I will always wake up the next morning.  Because I don't know that anymore.  So to that end, I say thank you to those spirits that helped keep those little things on watch, those who maybe never attained the wish of one velveteen rabbit, but who, in their own ways lived to keep a frightened child safe.  

I pray to the grandfathers to give me serenity of mind, that one day perhaps I will unlock the hidden parts of my brain to let loose its many demons.

I say thank you to those grandfathers for sending forth the guardians of my nights to keep at bay those demons, to help me keep the fight going.

I give honour to all those small things, much greater in my mind's eye now, that they have found their peace after so much battle.  

Ho.

Another Shadow

Come on in.  There is no food right now.  Someone else will have to provide.

See that new shadow?  The one that is lurking near the edges and growls at the others?  That's Xuxa.  She left us today.  She was almost 16.  And a runt.  And so pretty.  So very pretty.  A calico who is best described as 3 lbs of cat and 30 lbs of hate, but limitless love for her family.  She never gave up a lap to cuddle, she growled and hissed when she was mad.  And she would talk for hours.

Later, I'll tell you stories.  But right now.  It's raw.  So very raw.  But my grandma gave her to me, and she's already gone south, so hopefully, she came around to show Xuxa to her new home.  We all love you baby girl.

The Friendzone

Come on in, we've got some pretzel bits, and a fine stir fry if you want something a bit more hearty.  It's delicious.  And udon noodles to boot!

So there is a meme.  It is the friend zone.  Shall I give you an example?  Sure I will.

Now generally this refers to the state where two individuals are friends and one wishes to pursue a romantic relationship and the other doesn't want to ruin the friendship.  As a further generalization this is one of those cases where a guy is nice to a girl, hoping she'll see his wonderful qualities and just kind of fall onto his dick. And well, to be quite honest, it doesn't exist except in the minds of those who feel somehow they've been 'wronged' by a female.

And there's all kinds of bullshit that goes along with this concept, y'know, guys see women date men who are bad for them, treat them like shit, and we know we treat them better, blah blah blah.  And so we make excuses like 'It's because he has money,' or 'must have a big dick to be able to treat her like that.'  Stupid shit.  Hell I've ever heard a comedian years ago make a statement about how he had a girl who was a friend (This was pre-internet meme overload, hell there was really just usenet, telnet, and email as far as I could tell on the old intertubes) and she dated these horrible guys then complained to him.  So he shouts at the audience, 'Here's my advice ladies.  Want to stop dating assholes?  Then date the guys you complain to about the assholes!'

And I get that.  I've had a few instances where a girl I liked was my friend, didn't wanna ruin the friendship, so we never got physical and I watched her date guy after idiot guy.  So I understand the HOW and all, what I don't understand is the obsession.  The fawning.  The fucking idiocy.  And while there is a ton of shit I could go on and on about within this entire concept I want to focus on two specific points within the friendzone concept that piss me off and are a clear sign that maybe you as an individual aren't ready to date someone.  And they are the reasons FOR being nice, and the inability to understand the dynamic of dating.  So let's get this done.

First off, if the whole reason you're ever nice to a girl, any girl, or a specific girl, is to fuck them, then you're a tool.  If your only ability to validate your actions is to rate your interactions with a person you're attracted to is through sex, my god man, grow the hell up.  While the beginning of a relationship is indeed filled with all kinds of physicality, it is far from being the only thing.

Secondly, there is a great quote floating about all up in the intarwebs that goes 'The friendzone is bullshit, women are not machines where you insert nice coins and sex drops out.'  This relates to the first point, because again, sex is not the be all end all.  It's just one part.  But also it relates to intent and obsession.  If a girl is not interested, move on dude.  There is no 'one' out there.  Trust me on this, and while it is hard to believe as a teenager (Because this is mostly aimed at them) there will be others, lots and lots of others, all over the place.  Just open your mind and perceptions up to it.

And really, let's be honest.  When a girl is your friend, and let's say you actually do get the guts to make an actual attempt at romantic overtures and she says 'But I don't want to ruin the friendship,' it's really just a nice way to say 'I don't find you attractive in that way.'  This is not you being unattractive.  This is you being unattractive to THAT GIRL.  Again, there are others.  Hell, we're on a planet of roughly 7 billion people, and if you live in any decent sized urban area, there is easily hundreds of thousands of women who are there.  Even if only a tenth of them find you attractive, that's still somewhere in the range of ten thousand or more.  You'll find one, or more.  Trust me.  MOVE ON.

And this is about that dynamic.  See, I teach writing.  I teach how to make an effective argument.  I teach how to get your point across.  And one of the things I see in writing is someone will lay out a bunch of facts, then make a conclusion and won't explain the inter-relation.  It's like walking up to someone who has food and saying 'Boy I sure am hungry...' and waiting for them to just hand you over food.

This dynamic is the same in regards to this friendzone bullshit.  If you're doing nice things because you're interested and you've never once said to her 'I'm interested in you in a romantic way' then who's fault is it she doesn't see you that way?  I mean, cut me loose here folks, but that sounds like it falls squarely on your own toolish head you half-wit.  You're not a cute animal, who can get away with jumping playfully at a girl and expect her to lavish attention on you.  Because well, one she's not going to date the damn dog or cat or whatever, and you she possibly could. IF and ONLY IF you get the damn thought into your brain to actually DO something about it.  And don't be all like 'Let's go for coffee' or 'let's see a movie' and expect her to assume it's a date.  Don't be a Leonard Hoffsteader.  BE DIRECT.  Say 'I want to go for coffee with you to explore the chances of us having a more intimate future.'  And if she says no, well great!  You now know you can redirect your energies elsewhere.  Don't go all mopey and cry over the one girl, or 12 girls, or 100 girls that say no.  They won't all say no.*

So guys, knock off this crap.  Treat women like humans, not goals, or conquests, or anything else but a human being.  Be assertive in your desires.  Don't expect it just to 'happen' because it doesn't.  And above all else, please please please stop obsessing over the ones who say no, or who want to be your friend but you want more.  There's other options.


*Ok, they could all say no.  You might be a repulsive chud with a terrible personality and the hygene of a monkey, flinging your feces all over the room.  In which case, you have WAY bigger issues to deal with than the friendzone, and that's an entirely different post.

Why poor people are poor.

Come on in and enjoy some ripple chips.  I realize that's a terrible breakfast but sometimes I'm a terrible person.  So y'know, balance.

So I've given this a lot of thought, and done a lot of research, and have lived very poor myself.  Hell I'm still poor.  And I've figured out the root cause of poverty.  And I thought, since I've discovered this mind altering and possibly even society altering fact, I would share it with you all so perhaps we can all start benefiting from this knowledge.

Poor people are poor because they have no money.

I know, that's so weird right?  to think that the only reason that poor people are poor is because they have no money is completely against everything we've been taught right?  But it's true.  Speaking as a poor person, and knowing a lot of poor people, and having really dug into this issue, I've discovered that it is nothing more than a lack of money that makes people poor.

We're taught that poor people are poor because they just don't know how to handle money.  Really?  I know for a fact that's fucking bullshit.  My grandmother?  She was poor, yet all the kids had food and clothing.  No one went hungry.  My mom?  She was poor.  I remember have a lot less than my friends as a kid but I don't remember ever needing for anything.  Sure our 'night out' might be burgers from 7-11, but we never needed anything.  I'm poor.  Both my girls are fed and clothed, they get to participate in sports and cultural activities.  They are fed the best quality of food I can afford.  Y'know why?  Because I know how to squeeze every last cent out of a dollar.  Learned from the best.  I get as much benefit from my dollar as is possible.  So don't give me any crap about how poor people don't know how to handle money.  I could give you about a million other examples of this but I think you get the point.

Add to this money management things such as our current 'boom' here in Rejayjay.  My rent, over the past two years, has gone up by over 50% from when I first moved into my apartment.  Every six months they've jacked the rent by as much as they could and it's not just here, it's everywhere doing it.  So it's not just a matter of if I'm good with my money now or not, because I don't recall getting a 50% raise over the past two years to keep up with the cost of my rent.  And I also know a lot of people in this same boat.  So trust me when I say poor people ain't poor because they don't know how to handle their money.  They do.

Well maybe it's because they're lazy right?  I mean, I know we've all been taught that hard work and effort will eventually pay off and we'll all be rich.  What a pile of fucking shit.  A big steaming pile of crap is what that is.  If it was based entirely off work, why don't I get paid about 80 bucks a minute for how hard I work.  Forget the parenting part of the equation, but every day, all the time I can muster, I am reading, researching, writing, note taking, or teaching.  I work my butt off and do I damn good job at the things I do.  And half of what I do I don't even get paid for, in fact I'm paying for it, because it's related to my education.  And don't get me started on how hard my grandmother worked.  She worked every fucking day of her life, she worked hard too, that woman was a machine.  There was no rainbow with a pot of gold at the end of it for her.  She lived on a fixed income and was never rich.  She never flew to Europe, she never saw the tropics, she never once stepped on a plane for all I can remember.  But boy did she work.  So I guess that lazy thing just can't be true.

It must be because they deserve it for some reason.  They're drug addicts, or maybe they beat their kids, or maybe it's just because they're stupid, because only stupid people would be poor.  Or they're crazy, yes, crazy.  Well.  I can't deny this one.  Nope, I must deserve to be poor because I have had addiction issues.  I've slapped a kid or two yep.  I doubt it could be called abuse, but why not for the purposes of this exercise.  And yes, I've been on anti-depressants and even ended up spending part of last summer enjoying the facilities at the General's psych ward.  So I guess I deserve to be poor.  Of course ... if you actually examine those issues, a lot of the reason people use drugs is to escape their miserable reality (usually due to mind crushing poverty), and abuse of children usually spouts from other issues, such as their own up bringing (where poverty was a big factor) and their lack of skills, or stress from not being able to pay bills, and I know my own depression can be set off by the realization that I can't afford where I live but I can't afford to move, what with having to have first and last months rent plus a damage deposit now and I can't save a dollar anywhere because there's always something that needs to be paid for and done and holy shit, what I wouldn't give to just not have to worry about this, where the fuck is that bottle of whiskey, and why do those kids always have to fight, I'ma slap the little bastards ... oops!  I guess you see the point, hmm?

As far as the stories of people that abuse the system ... well fuck a duck, rich folks abuse the system too.  How about we focus on stopping the folks who have ALL THE MONEY from fucking the rest of us over before we start fighting over the crumbs at the bottom when it comes to things like social safety nets, welfare, or employment insurance.  How about we stop looking at poverty as a symptom and rather as the root cause of a lot of our issues.  Poverty is a weapon that is used by our system, by our governments, by ourselves, to justify greed, abuse, and downright shitty behavior all around.

So the next time you start thinking about how poor people have it so good, what with all the social programs  and not working, and how life is so good, I'd like you to figure out how to live on $1100 dollars a month when your rent is over $900 dollars, see how that works out for you, because last time I had to apply for assistance, between that and other benefits, that's what I received.  That's hard fucking work folks.

AWESOME

Come on in and grab a pew.  Got me some ripple chips you can partake in.  Or celery.  I'ma eat the celery, I love the taste.

Last night rocked.  We all went over to The Ringmaster's house and watched some UFC, and I felt it was a damn good card.  Plus the company was awesome.  Cenobyte was there, and so was Neo, and kidlets, and we all couldn't stop laughing with all the hilarious comments getting tossed about.  Plus Ceno's eldest, The Captain, was wearing the coolest sweater that said Alcatraz Mental Ward Outpatient.  Was so cool.  And The Ringmaster's wife overfed us.  So good.  I feel all full this morning still.  It's amazing.

But the best part was being able to debate politics with The Ringmaster afterwards and both of us disagree yet be able to express our ideas.  And that's rare, and cool, and awesome.  Because we all need to be able to discuss these things without getting upset at each other.  There was no name calling, there was just expressing of ideas, which I do believe made both of us understand other perspectives, which is fantastic.  And makes me all happy.  So yah Ringmaster, you rock dude.

This chick is pretty awesome

Come on in and enjoy some popcorn, grab a stump and watch the fire.

So a while back my buddy Ringmaster introduced me to a wonderful little song by the Oatmeal.  Here it is.



So I looked up who the singer was.  Sarah Donner.  She's pretty freakin' awesome.  Her voice is just incredible and she's a fantastic songwriter.  She can even make a central pivot irrigation arm sound fun!



But this one is my favorite.



But the coolest thing is she runs a cat rescue home for abandoned cats and then gets them adopted out.  She loves the kittehs!  And she does a video Q&A thing called 'Ask a Cat Lady.'  Check the link, everyone needs to listen to more songs about nipples.

I'ma buy all her stuff.  And she's got some free songs available on her website, include the two I posted, PLUS you can get the motherfucking pterodactyl song free as an mp3 download from The Oatmeal!

A dream for you all

Come on in and grab a seat.  The rain might be turning to snow, and it might not be the beautiful long weekend we all want, but I was given a story last night, one I was told to share with everyone.  And we've got some apples to munch on while we watch the smoke.

There were a couple who lived in the woods.  They came from two different worlds so lived apart from those worlds.  They ran happily through what they thought of as their home, oblivious to the rest of the world, happy in each other and lost in their joy of discovery.

One day they ran into some others who lived in the woods who were not very friendly.  The young man fought with the strangers, first yelling, then wrestling.  The young man pinned one of the strangers, and ran away with his mate.  Since the fight was so grueling the young couple ran off deeper into the woods to avoid the strangers.

Unfortunately the young man felt bad for leaving, because the strangers seemed incredibly familiar.  As the young couple ran away the young man started to remember his old life and the people who were there and how similar they were to his family from before his mate.

Another stranger, like both the young man and the strangers, yet different in his dress, found the young man and woman hiding in the woods and sternly scolded the young man, "How dare you run from your family.  The are new to this place and wish to live like you but cannot yet.  These are your relations and you can teach them to live here.  You have forgotten who you are and how to act."

The young man was incredibly hurt by this and ran away from his mate and the strangely dressed man.  He ran through the woods, trying to find the answer to his problems.  He ran until he saw where the strangers lived.  They were huddled in a tree, and the young man knew what to do.

He crawled into the roots where he started a fire at the base of the trunk, stoking it with his breath to get it hot enough to burn a hole through the middle of the tree.  This way the smoke would be let out but heat would pass among the entire tree, keeping the people warm and with the glow of the fire within the tree.

While the young man did this, his mate tried to follow, and finally found her love.  She crawled into the roots with him and noticed that the young man was changing, that the people living in the tree were changing and looked a lot like otters.  She started to cry and crawled out again, encountering the strangely dressed man. "You took him away from me!  I'm so different from his people they won't accept me!  What should I do?  Why would you do this to us!?"

The strangely dressed man tipped his cowboy hat and smiled, he then softly said, "You're right, they won't accept you.  But they have accepted him.  It's not their choice if you stay."  He then walked away as the young woman crawled back into the roots of the tree.