The seedless grapes club.

Come on in and grab a seat, I tried cleaning up the den a bit after that last outburst. And I have some no-name nacho chips. I love'um cuz you can really taste the onion meal they dust on'um. And since I am so angry I thought 'Write something funny' and maybe I'll get a little less angry. You are what you write? We are what we do? I dunno, but this is a funny story.

So I have two kids, I'm over thirty, and I don't want anymore. As such I went into the doctor, and to quote Scrubs, I asked the doctor to 'Grip'um, snip'um, and zip'um.' That's a vasectomy in common speak. I got my physical, my questions answered, and so on. Then I was put on the list, and phoned by the hospital when I should come in, and that whole process was about a two or three month wait.

So I go in at 8 am on some morning and sign myself in, wait for 15 minutes, and am shown to a room. Durring that fifteen minutes I ask the front desk woman a few questions. I'm curious as to how this whole thing goes down, I'm not embarassed about getting my junk worked on, and she seemed friendly enough. So she explained that like once a month or so they just book all the vasectomies into one clinic and they've got it down to quite a little factory line. They book about 20 or 30 for the morning, and the procedure takes like 15 minutes start to finish. I go 'Hmmm, so what like five doctors?' Nope one doctor, one nurse. I go 'Bwua... but if they all get done on one morning?' The admitting nurse smirked 'We get quite a few cancelations, about half don't show up and about a third of those that do show walk out without getting the procedure done.' I chuckled, 'So like maybe 12 or 10 to do over the whole thing?' Yep.

But I thought about this and it bothered me. It means these folks really are treating this like a factory recall on bad breaks down at the Wang Factory. I mean, no offense but you're going to take sharp instruments to my boys, I'd like a little understanding. Which I later found out only comes from the nurse after you make a joke about your junk and her hands.

So after that wait I'm ushered into a room, the nurse says 'Drop your pants and underwear, lie down on your back on the table and cover with the half sheet.' At this point I'm going to get a little graphic so if me talking about my junk is going to bother you, skip the rest of the post. So for those that don't know, your scrotum has its own temperature regulator. When it's hot they hang, when it's cold they pull up. They also pull up when you're hackles are raised or you're nervous. Well hospitals are not known for their warm environment and I'm about to have my plumbing mucked with so what do you think my scrotum is doing? I swear, it felt like my testicles were in my earlobes.

So the doctor and the nurse come in, apparently I'm first cuz I arrived first. Yah me right? So the doc flips back the sheet, and sees that my scrotum is trying to migrate and goes 'Hmm.' I go 'Hmm?' and that is when the BLINDING PAIN begins. So I'm nervous and it's cold so how might you think they'd relax me and get my scrotum to release its death grip on my testicles. Maybe get a cute nurse to mutter sweet nothings in my ear? No. Dope me up like it's Bangkok and it's a wierd sex ritual? Nope. Perhaps even the nicety of throwing a warm cloth on my boys to let them relax? Not even close. Instead the doctor shall FORCE them to relax, by placing two fingers at the base of my penis and using the other hand to push down with two fingers to manually STRETCH my scrotum out.

So naturally I scream in pain, and he gets all huffy. 'Look if you think this hurts, what are you gonna be like when I start the procedure?' I take a deep breath and go 'Hey maybe if you applied the local, or if you let her do it (Looking leeringly at the nurse) it might not hurt so bad.' What I wanted to say but didn't was 'Hey let me pinch your nuts and yank'um down to your knees and see what you say you fuckin' asshat!' It did however get the nurse on my side.

So he applies the local, goes back to yanking on my nuts, which still made me groan in discomfort, but then I looked up at the nurse and said 'Good thing for your chest or I'd see right up your nose.' She laughed at that. I guess you'll laugh at anything when you're watching some poor guy get his nuts worked on.

So he gets me 'loosened up' so to speak and I hear him start asking the nurse for scissors. You see they don't cut you up and rewire you anymore. Nope, they make a small cut with surgical scissors, and then use the medical equivilent of a soldering iron to burn the vas defrens. I think I spelled that right. Anyhow, they don't even stitch you up. They use surgical glue. Fun stuff.

So to sum up. Having needles shoved into my privates, hearing the metalic snip of scissors as they slip through my flesh, smelling the burning of my flesh as they cauterize my sperm slides, none of these things was as painful or disturbing as that doctor trying to 'relax' my scrotum. Try it some time. Just start yanking on that bad boy like it's a change purse that doesn't want to open.

And if after all this you're still ready to get your nuts nipped, well then I will officially welcome you into the seedless grapes club.

Empty rambling

Come in, don't mind the mess. If you sit be careful, I was spraying a awful lot of vitrol about the last little while so the den may look like a catastrophe. There might be food, I dunno. I stopped worrying about that a couple days ago. Oh and mind that one shadow. It's not a shadow, it's the ghost of a squirrel. We'll get to that.

I got so angry, I'm still angry, I feel filled with a bright righteous indignant rage. My body is wracked with tics and muscle spasms, and my stomach feels like a small pocket of liquid lead; hot and heavy, burning yet unable to move. Yet somehow this frightening lightness is spread amongst my limbs and they shake and twitch, stale old adrenalin pushing them out of joint and robbing my movements and mind of any grace.

I should not have gotten so angry, I know this. I will address that with those affected by my rage. I am not ashamed of it, I did not get angry for no reason. I won't say I was pushed, but like any creature that hunts and hurts for its food, I can only be baited so long before I will latch on and squeeze with my jaws and claws until I can lap the blood up from the ground.

I hit a squirrel today with my car. He sat in the middle of the road and I started to slow, and didn't quite slam on the breaks. I had three kids in the car. I swerved a bit, and he darted directly into my car. I felt a small thump, I'm sure the kids did too, and I looked in the rear view and in a soft voice said 'I hit him.' Then I lied to my kids and said 'Oh no I didn't, he ran off.' I couldn't talk about what I saw. It hit me too twisted.

He skittered and spasmed on the tar. I watched his tail corkscrew about as his head, most likely still half smeared to the road. His back feet kicked him repeatedly off the ground. I felt like him. As cliched and sad as that sounds, I understood him and knew I should have just stopped before I came up to him. Let him run off after a honk. But then again, I don't get any warning. I just see the speeding object racing towards me. I see threat and challenge on my ground and my hackles rise and my body floods with adrenalin and I look for blood.

It's my blood that ends up being spilled. I am cut and run through with a thousand small insults, rammed down by a thousand tiny pebbles of disrespect and laid low by the smallest of cuts running along my frame until all the lashings and lacing slip away and my body is nothing but rancid and ruined meat flayed by the wind.

Empty I look down at what is left of myself. I don't even recognize what I am anymore. I fought this once, and the other knew to let it go. This one has backup. I will still fight but perhaps I need a new strategist. I can't do it myself. Will you help me? I just want to love them. To let them feed from me and my soul those things I feel they need. Why am I wrong because I disagree?

I hurt and bleed and still this isn't a complaint. I am here for the duration and will not lie down. My body is ruined and means nothing, but my mind, my soul. It will withstand far more than anyone knows. Eternity means nothing to those who know hell isn't one place, but a vast universe of pain and strife.

Bring it.

The exhausted apology

Come on in, grab a seat. Yeah, sorry about that, the shadows are howling because I've had some rage filled moments lately. I don't get really angry often, but when I do. . . Yeah it's bad. So I'm going to share with you a little philosophy of mine when it comes to the ubiquitous sorry.

Honestly, if all you can do after you fuck up is say 'Sorry' then don't bother. I am sick of hearing those words like they somehow fix what was done or said. I rarely say them myself, not for lack of mistakes made or being unapologetic, because I fuck up on a regular basis. The difference is this: when I fuck up I try to fix the problem. I will own my mistake not by saying 'I'm sorry' but by going 'Wow, I screwed the pooch there didn't I?' and then roll up my sleeves and attempt to fix, or at least lessen the impact, of my mistake.

'Oh but Coyote, when you say sorry you're just showing that you recognized you've made a mistake or showing regret.' Yeah and what is that worth honestly? Unless you're willing to OWN the mistake and try whatever you can to make it better then regret and a buck fifty will get you a crappy cup of coffee.

'Well what about accidents?' Accidents do happen, but I personally think they're rare. Usually an accident can be put to carelessness, which is a personal mistake, or miscalculation or a badly placed judgement, also a personal mistake. And for those rare accidents, why not express disappointment rather than a guilt fed regret?

'So what are you saying then Coyote?' I'm saying that each of us has to own and be personally responsible for ourselves. And not just ourselves but the actions we take as well as how those actions may or may not affect the world, the people, around us. We have to stand up and say 'That is my error, and I will learn from it and do what I can to correct it.'

The problem is we have been teaching kids, and our society, for years that if you shame and guilt someone into saying sorry, they may actually stop doing 'something bad.' Guilt and shame do nothing but break down the thought processes that may lead to genuine learning. Instead of teaching kids to say sorry, why not teach them to realize why the mistake was made and how they can make it better.

So the next time the automatic urge to just mouth that useless and tired word 'sorry' comes popping up stop and consider what the mistake was, if it was your mistake how do you own it, and in the end how do you restore what was made wrong. Try it, it's a metric fuckload better than guilt and shame.

What I want.

Come on in, and sit down for a while, of course, I'm just going to scream for a bit.

I would like to go one day where I feel like my contributions as a father are appreciated instead of just judged.

I would like to go one day where my thoughts and ideas on child care and child raising are given equal weight.

I would like to go one day where I don't have to say to myself 'I wonder how many times I'm going to have to do this?'

I would like to have equal time with my youngest daughter.

I want my family and for it to have a positive strong father figure who's authority isn't undercut on a daily basis.

You'd think that would be very little to ask for.

Damn you Ceno!!

Come on in, the weather is so beautiful, my hides are flung wide open to let in all that summer air. And My Moon has graciously provided us with Hint of Lime Tostitos and Salsa con queso. But since Ceno is responding to spam I got reminded of my favorite spam and thought I'd share.

So there are three that stick in my head and I continue to get funny ones because I made the mistake, back in the mid-nineties, of allowing my email to be seen in ICQ. I'm sure my email has been on every single mailing list on the planet. So let me share the three best.

First off, I open my email and I get big flashing letters that proclaim 'EXTREME ANAL FISTING!!' And the first thought that struck me was 'Y'know if you are sticking an entire fist, even a tiny one, up your pooper, isn't that somewhat extreme? How do you make anal fisting more extreme? Does it involve barbed wire? Laxatives? Betting? How do you make shoving a fist up the human anus any more nasty? I suddenly got a horrible mental image of ham fisted goons, coating their fists in glue and glass a la Kickboxer, while hemorrhoid cream and pepper is applied to the soon to be violated chocolate starfish. I have to live with this image and now so do you.

So my next favorite proclaimed to have a link that would transport me to the most innovative website on the intarwebs. It was creating a fusion between the two massive genres of pornography and horror films. And so intrigued I clicked the link. And there was sample photos of nude nuns (You could tell they were nuns cuz they still wore their habits, wimples, and rosaries) in high heels playing with a demon and his ... well demonic tool. Which was fully three feet long, covered in horns and protuberances and quite ... demon-like. It also had a great Snow White and the Seven Dwarves spread which had me giggling like a little girl. Was fuckin' hilarious.

And the final one, which was actually not that long ago, was to sell me a pill. And this pill is quite possibly the dumbest pill I've ever heard of. It wasn't for a bigger penis, or to increase my staying power, no this pill promised to increase my ejaculate. Because every woman I've ever slept with has said 'You know what would make this night perfect? A BIGGER WET SPOT!!' I've ever polled women and asked 'Have you ever thought that more ejaculate would improve your sexual experience?' and not one has said yes. In fact most have gone 'What?! I'd be happier with less.' And to be honest. If I want to spew a bit more I'll just do what the porn stars do and inject egg whites into my prostate.

So there you go, three disturbing mentals images. Enjoy!

My definition

Cue the music (for anyone old enough to remember that horrible Canadian game show, which was used as a cut in a Dream Warriors song). Come on in and sit down while I riff a bit on what I view as my own political ideals and why I define myself as egalitarian.

So here is the dictionary definition of egalitarianism: 1 : a belief in human equality especially with respect to social, political, and economic rights and privileges 2 : a social philosophy advocating the removal of inequalities among people. This is pretty bare bones when it comes to the overall philosophy I carry but it marks the beginning so here is where I will start. I believe that everyone deserves the same thing. I find the nature of greed we use to drive our current society to be grossly inadequate and damaging. I am offended on a daily basis when I watch individuals who fail to realize their actions have direct and indirect ramifications on everything around them.

Now the first thing that gets tossed out when you forward an egalitarian ideal is communism. I don't advocate communism. I advocate social change from the individual up, not from the government down. If each of us started to live by the ideals of equal rights and privileges for all people then maybe we'd start to get somewhere. And to understand how to achieve that requires that everyone understands that they are not an island unto themselves and must contribute and serve the society around them.

The interesting part of this is that my ideas on how a society and it's politics should work don't fall into the whole left/right/center spectrum we use. Because honestly egalitarianism can exist in every single mindset along that scale. You're a right wing nut job who demands less government and more fiscal responsibility? Well then, start understanding how interacting and serving the community around you virtually eliminates the need for government regulations on a great many things. Why do governments interfere with business? Because if they don't a limited number of individuals will amass more resources than they could ever need and will damage the overall society. You're a left wing tree hugger? Understand that without creating a bridge of communication and treating all issues as being 'manageable' on a large scale does not work and requires individuals within the society to actually desire the change needed. Work towards the knowledge and overall sensibilities of the individuals contribution and service to the community with the very real benefits of a far healthier living space and overall quality of life. You're a libertarian who demands that government does not interfere unduly in your life? Well then stand up and start making it so they don't have to, with the understanding that your personal liberties are GIFTS from the society around you and must be treated as such and earned.

So that was a little rant like but let me give an example of how this works in practice for me. By the way I am by no means a perfect member of society, I do however try my best to live by the ideals I've set for myself. I coach. Football, soccer, and I help with my kid's teams at her school when I can. I spend significant time and effort into this task because I see it not as me teaching a sport but as a means to impart good sportsmanship, competition, and citizenship skills to young people. I want them to strive for the best they can do, and always teach that while the physical skills I may teach are only applicable in the sport, the mental and emotional skills I teach are something they can take forward into their everyday lives. I step up and go to bat for these kids. I help them on and off the field. I have helped some with homework. I've listened to them as they've told me the problems they're having. I've bitched out parents of kids I felt were harming their kids. I put myself personally on the line when I coach and hold nothing back. Because I want every kid I coach to understand the basic ideas I hold of equality and personal responsibility. And that's the thing.

So you have that example and it's fairly vague not entirely on topic but here is where I expound. An egalitarian society must be focused on two basic principles. First, you as an individual are one part of a much greater thing. Secondly that you are personally responsible for your actions and must be held accountable by your society. As I mentioned, rights and freedoms are gifts that are given by a society to an individual. I don't buy into this 'inalienable human right' that the Americans jerk off about, nor do I buy into a human rights code that my own country will not include me or my children, or any other Status Indian in it. I know I must earn my rights just as I earn respect and trust from each person I meet and interact with. By the way this does not mean that I think there should be some council of individuals who gets to choose who gets what right and where, I just think we need to stop seeing human rights just something you get because you were born. You get them when you act like a human being who is a part of a society that defines those rights. (There's a very long and intense theoretical argument I could lay out behind this about how language defines thought, and as such society defines individuals but I am hoping everyone is following along.)

Example two. I have lost a job due to my race. Well actually, it was due to an argument with my boss about race. I've also lost a job due to my sex. I as a male am not allowed to place my children as my top priority over my career, and if I make that claim then it cannot be true and instead I am just ducking out of work. Both of these things are inequalities. As a society we MUST stand up and point at them and say 'This is wrong, you cannot treat an individual different because of their condition which is a trait of birth not learning.' As an individual? Do I blame my boss for being a racist which is why I lost my job? No. I made the mistake of arguing with him on a topic that had nothing to do with my job and had I left it alone he would not have spent the next three months cataloguing every single mistake I made so as to fire me. Do I blame the other boss for being sexist and that is why I lost my job? No I should have made ti more clear to my employer why things happened and when, and attempted to compromise with them rather than challenge them directly on their stance. I own my actions. I expect society to enforce unfortunate consequences on anyone who doesn't own their actions. I hope these two points are clear.

So let's go back to the coaching example. Why do I do it? There are a lot of reasons, some selfish, some altruistic, but in the end the biggest reason is my need as a human being to be a part of something bigger. We are in our very nature a social creature. We crave both the praise and challenge of being a part of a working group and we are all at our best when we interact and reinforce one another.

Some king at some time decided he wanted to find out what was the natural language of human beings. So he took a bunch of babies, and gave them everything but language. No one was allowed to talk to them. Every single baby died. Even when we don't know what is being said we require the knowledge that we are surrounded by others who are there for us. Without that, what is the point? As horrific as that experiment was, and while it never achieved its stated goal, it still shows beyond a shadow of a doubt that we require one another.

Yes there are some individuals who break out of this mold and become solitary figures. More often than not solitary figures become maligned and dangerous to the rest of us, others just isolate themselves. But these are not the norm, instead aberrations that reinforce the previous point.

So the point is this. You as an individual are not more important than your society. Without a healthy society that treats all its individuals as equals you as an individual will never reach your full potential or even have the life you deserve. Without those simple understandings most other endeavors will fail. And that is how I view the beginnings, the basis, of my goal of egalitarianism.

Writing

Come in, the fire is still going in case you want to roast a marshmellow or two. Beautiful weather we've had and the skins are pulled back to let the fresh smell of the rain in. Wow is it ever a beautiful night. So I made a goofy comment and someone said 'That could so be a quote for you.' And y'know what, it's true. So I thought I'd explain my writing process.

First the quote: "I see writing as my combat sport." And I do. Writing should provoke something. Thought, emotions, action, something. It should reach out and touch the reader somehow. So to that end I usually require the right mindset for writing.

First off I pick some music, something loud and with a steady driving rhthym. Living Color's 'Cult of Personality' gets a nod sometimes, lotsa songs by The Watchman. Then I grab a book that is completely different from what I'm working on, head outside and power down three cigarettes. When I get back in I down about a litre of some caffinated beverage (My fav right now is Diet Dr. Pepper) and then BAM!! It's GO TIME BITCHES!!!!

I keep the music blasting, I move, I dance, I write, I slam out words into strings of ideas and fight my way towards my goal. It tends to come out fairly well. I do it before essay style finals as well. WHOOT!!!

Forget this quiet place to study and think. I want the noise of the world to pour into me so I can see everything out there and encapsulate it into what I'm writing about. I lock down those ideas and punch'em out.

That's my writing process. *flex*