Face It - You May Be a Racist

In response to the outrage over Jesse Williams' speech at the BET awards - I just thought I'd post this for those of you who are unclear as to the definition of A RACIST...

 

rac·ist

/ˈrāsəst/

noun

noun: racist; plural noun: racists

1.a person who believes that a particular race is superior to another.

synonyms: racial bigot, racialist, xenophobe, chauvinist, supremacist More

"he was exposed as a racist"

•(racially) discriminatory, racialist, prejudiced, bigoted

"a racist society"

adjective

noun: racist; plural noun: racists; adjective: racist

1. having or showing the belief that a particular race is superior to another.

"we are investigating complaints about racist abuse at the club"

At no time in my six decades of living on this planet have I ever heard a non-white person describe themselves as being "superior." Wanting "equality, justice or fairness" but never claiming to be "superior."


I have, however, heard many white people actually say they are. Superior, that is. I've heard lots of things spewed about African Americans, Hispanics, Japanese, Jews - you name it.

 

I guess I can forgive them because, after all, they were predominantly German - many with the Hitleresque view certain people were superior. No? Well, right. I remember, even as a young child thinking, "What the hell are these people talking about??" Those people being my family members. All of their IQs combined couldn't add up to one intelligent human. But they believed themselves to be better than - well just about everyone.

 

I also remember the men in the family cheering on Black athletes and everyone admiring Black entertainers - but that was different. Unless a person of color could prove themselves to be almost super-human they didn't stand a chance. The "Colored" guy they worked next to in the mill had better be quiet, hardworking and not "uppity" or he was sure to meet their censure.

 

Let's get real. The only thing that separates us is MELANIN. Certain people have more of it - because of their genetics. Why is this such a difficult concept to get? Genetically speaking, Caucasions tend to be "colorless" and lacking in many ways. Remember that when you're paying a fortune for a fake tan...

 

A Reason, a Season or a Lifetime

I don't know why the poem about people coming into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime came to me out of the blue last night. Not only did those words come to me as I was trying to fall asleep, but the same feeling I had the first time I heard them washed over me.

I remember that first time vividly. It was over a decade ago, and reading it filled me such sadness all I could do was weep. Just the thought of a dear friend I had at the time only being a part of my life for a reason or a season filled me with such heartache. I remember telling myself we would be lifetime friends, but I had a sinking feeling it was temporary. I was right.

My friend was such a huge part of my life. I remember her coming into my life like she had a purpose. We knew each other through our church, but it was a casual friendship. It grew into much more when I suffered a serious loss. Her friendship helped me through a horribly dark period.

We did everything together. The four of us - she and her husband and me and mine - travelled and spent most of our time doing things as a unit. We never ran out of things to do or talk about. We spent holidays together and celebrated our children's accomplishments and milestones.

I'm not sure how it all fell apart. One day everything was fine and the next thing I knew, they were moving away. Far away. Now, we barely speak.

Loneliness. It's like a smothering sensation that grips you when you least expect it and takes your breath away. I remember having surgery when I was a kid. Back in the dark ages when they still used ether. I will never forget the sensation when they slapped that ether-soaked mask over my face. I couldn't breathe. I had the sense I was being rolled up in that green, outdoor carpeting and I could not escape. I just wanted fresh air. That's the way loneliness hits me.

I am alone. My husband works and my children are grown with lives of their own. I have few friends - almost none. My only connection to the outside world is social media. I don't belong to any groups and I rarely leave the house. I suffer from chronic pain which makes even a trip to the store a major chore.

I live in my own little world surrounded by my animal friends. There are the two Bullmastiffs - Jack and Rooney. Six cats: Eli, Fancy, Finn, Chance, Dash and Boo. A bunny named Roxy, a hamster named Emily Elizabeth and a Bearded Dragon named Bennett. Then there are the feral kitties I feed. I am surrounded by life and love - just no human interaction.

My husband works very hard and wants to retire soon. He comes home from work and reads on his I-Pad or just wants to watch TV. Truth be told, he talks to his dog more than he does me. Our conversations are limited to discussions about the kids or the house. He stopped asking me how I am because he knows the answer. I'm in constant pain.

So, as I was lying in bed trying to shake the feeling of loneliness, it hit me that, when I die, there will be very few people at my funeral. If my husband outlives me, he will be there with our two kids. My cousin had 800 people at his funeral. He was well loved.

I shall forgo a funeral and just have my husband spread my ashes around the yard. This is my world, and I have been happy here. Yikes! Now I feel so low it's almost funny. I know I'll be okay when I can see the absurdity in feeling sorry for myself. I've had a good run. Yes, this sucks, but it could be worse. I could be a Republican...
 

Don't Overthink It!

I confess. I'm that crazy grandmother who hugs too hard, gives sloppy kisses and screams like a wild woman at my grandkids' sporting events. I do not care. It is who I am.

 

 

I love to watch their games - even the ones I can't pronounce, like whatever they call indoor soccer (foosball, soccerpuss, soluble fiber????) So, this past Saturday, I was in my glory, cause everybody was at the same place - the guys were even on the same court. Well, it was divided with half of the court that indoor soccer thing and the other half pre-school basketball.

 

Watching three and four year olds play basketball is something everyone should see at least once before they croak. I can only describe it as a free-for-all, blood bath. I guess at last week's game the casualties mounted up with nose bleeds, black eyes and more than a few tears.

 

Coaches and parents must have intervened because this last game was pulled off with no bloodshed. The focus this week was keeping their arms up. They looked like tiny participants in a Southern Baptist Revival.

 

Oh, sure, there was a lot of other stuff like one little guy who was more interested in hanging from the net while his team was at the other end of the court trying to dribble and shoot. And my little grand-of-the-heart, "Daw-some," who is a tiny dynamo, kept stopping the action to ask questions. He would stop mid-game, tap the coach or referee on the knee, and ask his question in his adorable, lispy voice. I'm thinking that innocent, I'm too cute for words, vibe will get him far in life.

 

His brother, "Lan-man," who is six, plays in the next level up. We call him our ball-hawk because he has an innate sense of the ball. He is the one who scores the most in soccer and makes the most baskets in basketball. He is focused on winning and does. He will be our attorney someday.

 

Seven year old, Ez, plays that indoor soccer thing, whose name eludes me. Playing soccer indoors on a half court is maddening. The ball is out of bounds more than not. Usually, it's out the door and down the hall. My son's brilliant girlfriend made the observation they should just put the goal in the doorway.

 

Anyway, Ez spent most of his court time watching his "brother" play basketball on the other half of the court. My husband, their Pap, shook his head - a lot. Ez is very good at scoping out the action and letting others do their thing. He is just as happy if somebody else scores - as long as the team wins. He is the "big picture" man who will make a great CEO someday.

 

My granddaughter, who is ten and very tall is playing basketball. It is her first time playing an organized sport. Some of her team mates are incredibly good - like Harlem Globetrotters material. And they are very aggressive. My sweet Lily is not. She may be taller than most, but she is very gentle and soft-spoken. Let me qualify that - unless she is dealing with little brother(s) - then she channels Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.

 

On the court, she is a tad hesitant. I mean, I get it. Who can think straight with a girl waving her arms in front of you like a demented windmill? But that's all part of the game. She spent awhile on the bench. Then, she was on the court. My heart was aching for her as I watched her, wide eyed, talking herself into focusing on the ball.

 

Then everything went into slow motion. I held my breath as she got the ball, turned and lobbed that thing straight into the hoop!! I have goose bumps now recalling the whole thing. It's not like it was a championship game - just an everyday game of hoops. But it was her first basket in her second game. I went completely bat-shit crazy...

 

You have to understand. I have a very bad back. I mean, I need help getting up and down the bleachers. My husband had to make a trip to Publix in between games to get me some Motrin. But there I was, channeling my high school cheerleader self - bad back forgotten - because my sweet Lily just made a basket! I was a wild woman.  My poor son was trying to focus on the game as well as keep me from ending up in the ER. I know she heard me across the court and at one point made eye contact and gave me a tiny grin and a thumbs up.

 

Now, lest you think I am one of those competitive whack jobs who boo the opposing team - let me assure you - I applaud each side. I do. I mean, the other team had a precious girl who was taller than everybody and got every rebound. But she couldn't sink a shot to save her coach's life. I was praying for her each time she went for a layup.

 

But this was different. This was more than the game. It was about self confidence. It was about grabbing life by the balls - literally. It was about learning how to be part of a team but successful in your own right. Oh, I know, I overthink everything. Ironically, it was the piece of advice I gave her right before the game - "Don't over think it. Just focus and throw." - which I'm sure contributed to her sinking that shot...

Looking for the Punchline

I'm not feeling very funny today. I was awake most of the night watching the Democratic sit-in at the House of Representatives, over the gun control issue. No shtick material there. It was serious as a crotch itch.

Turned on my music playlist for inspiration. Nada. From Doo Wop to opera, most of it appeals to that darker, sadder part of my psyche. Don't believe me? Here's a sample:

• Leonard Cohen - "Bird on the Wire" "Hallelujah" "Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye" :"So Long Marianne"
• Bobby Vinton - "Blue Velvet"
• Joni Mitchell - "The Circle Game"
• Paul Potts - "Con Te Partiro" and "Nessun Dorma"
• Patsy Cline - "Crazy" "I Fall to Pieces" and "Sweet Dreams"
• Roy Orbison - "Crying" (arguably the most intense unrequited love song)
• Buffalo Springfield - "Expecting to Fly"
• James Taylor - "Fire and Rain" (the song of my life)
• Pink - "I Don't Believe You" and "So What"
• The Beatles - "In My Life" "The Long and Winding Road" and "Yesterday"
• Lazarus - "Porcupine Tree"
• The Moody Blues - "Knights in White Satin"
• Nashville Cast - "No One Will Ever Love You" and "Stronger Than Me"
• Smokey Robinson - "Ooo Baby Baby" and "The Tracks of My Tears"
• Andrea Bocelli - "The Prayer" and "Time to Say Goodbye" (I'm crying typing this)
• CSNY - "Our House"
• Buddy Holly - "Raining in my Heart" and "True Love Ways"
• Neil Young - "Round and Round"
• Snow Patrol - "Run"
• Judy Collins - "Send in the Clowns"
• Tony Bennett - "September Song"
• The Skyliners - "Since I Don't Have You"
• Boz Scaggs - "Lowdown"
• Dave Koz - "That's the Way I Feel About You"
• AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST - my life's anthem, Jefferson Airplane "White Rabbit"

"Tell them a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call.....and remember what the dormouse said, Feed Your Head!"

Well, now that I'm practically crawling across the floor, time to bring out the big guns - "This is Halloween" - from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Call me weird - gah head, do it - (David Guetta's "Titanium") - but Halloween makes me happy... 

The Human Perspective

Arguably the hardest thing to do as humans is to see something from another's perspective. As I sit here typing, I am thinking of two very different posts I just saw on Facebook. One was a video in which a baseball capped, boot wearing, guitar player was singing a country ditty about how his "dog must be a Democrat."

It wasn't flattering to Dems, just so you know. While he strums away on his guitar, rhyming away in a twangy voice how Dems are like his dog for the following reasons:

1. They expect free handouts like food and shelter
2. They're lazy freeloaders  
3. Basically he works while his dog does nothing but lay around and get fat.

It is supposed to be funny but I didn't laugh. All I could do was sit there and think - this is the way non-liberals think. They characterize Liberals as blind fools who have no common sense. They are looked upon as stupid, no matter how well educated and rational.

I, myself, am a Liberal. Truth be told, I lean more toward the Left, as in Socialist. I believe there is more than enough to go around and we need to do a much better job of evening things out. I consider myself a spiritual person who does not believe I possess the right to judge anyone's life choices. Oh, and I am a Vegan.

I believe the wealthiest of the wealthy need to pay more taxes - well more than nothing - which is, sadly, the way things get played out when you have enough cash to hire high priced lawyers and accountants.

You see, when a poor person aligns themselves with the Republican party I am more than a little confused. I don't ever remember a time when Republicans cared about the poor. I remember them wanting to break up unions and do away with government subsidies. Trouble is, those using food stamps are the very same people supporting the Republicans - and those conservatives despise.

I grew up in a Northern state - Western Pennsylvania. Specifically, Pittsburgh. A steel city. Made up of people from every race and ethnicity; working together to put food on their tables. My folks were Democrats. They were pro-union; pro labor; anti-gun and anti-white collar greediness. I cannot say my parents were exactly liberal, even though they aligned themselves with the Democratic party. They were blue-collar mentality, and more than a little prejudiced.

Maybe because they had survived the Great Depression, they had sympathy for those who struggled to put food on the table. They never begrudged anyone using food stamps. They did, however, despise laziness and if someone seemed to not be pulling their weight, well they were subject to criticism. I, myself, was never allowed an idle moment.  

Somewhere along the line, the two parties have switched or morphed into a strange mess. The lower middle class now claims allegiance with a party that has never had their best interests at heart. It's a little like a dog chasing - and hating - its tail. That's a better analogy if you're going to compare dogs to any humans.

Anyway, another post caught my attention. This one was a video of Melissa Etheridge, who wrote an incredible song, after the massacre in Orlando at a club called Pulse. Her song appealed to me way more than the country ditty. It made me cry, actually, as she described how we're all different but all have one thing in common - a pulse. The song is powerful and meaningful and I couldn't help but cry as I listened.

Different perspectives. Each side thinking the other is misguided. How on earth can we ever come together? How did we get so far apart? What is it going to take to bring everyone together with a similar mindset?

I honestly thought Bernie Sanders would be that unifying force. I thought he would appeal to all who work hard to take care of their families. I honestly thought people would see the sincerity in his heart. I honestly thought the middle class would realize their true "enemy" is corporate greed - not immigrants seeking asylum or children in need or those with a different sexual orientation or religion.

But, sadly, that was not the case. Instead, they have aligned themselves with a crooked, multi-millionaire, carnie barker who is filled with hate??? On what planet do they think he will give them another thought once he has their vote??

It has come down to "love versus hate" once again. Well, I'm on the side of love and I'm staying put.

It's All in the Narration

In typical old lady fashion, I fell fast asleep watching television. When I woke up, it was still early (9:30 p.m.) but I went to bed anyway. No sooner did my head hit the pillow, my eyes flew open and would not close for the next several hours. Despite many attempts to turn off my brain, it was stuck on the spin cycle, so I just gave up.

As I lie there at 4 a.m., my mind drifted to writing. I may not be the best writer but I am always thinking about it. What to write about that is. I seem to come up with just the right words when I am without paper and pen or computer to document my brilliance.

Oh, I have lots of material - six decades worth to be precise. The problem is, a lot of it isn't funny. Since I seem to get the most readers when I go for the laughs, this presents a challenge. My political rants have a few "likers" but, for the most part, the stories about life's craziness hit the mark. (To MW, that was not intentional, I swear.)

So, I thought about how, for most of my life, it was a struggle to find the "funny." My folks were not funny. Oh, my father enjoyed the random joke - at someone else's expense - but he was not what you'd call a comedian himself.

My mother enjoyed humor - the MASH variety - as in sarcasm and irony. Her brothers made her laugh with their crude, often inappropriate, form of story telling. As kids (the ten grandchildren) we were never escorted out of the room while our uncles did their risqué stand-up in the kitchen. I suppose the adults thought most of what was said went over our heads. It did not. But I watched my mother laugh and laugh at their routines, then turn back into old stone face the moment we left Grandma's house.

My mind so often drifts to unhappy childhood memories. As I lie there trying to figure out how to morph them into funny ones, the answer hit me - It's all in the narration!!! Yes! That's it! The most successful producers know it's what turns a good movie into a great one.

Imagine "War of the Worlds" if it had been narrated by - oh - say - Mel Blanc (the voice of Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny and Porky Pig, to name a few) instead of Orson Welles!! People would have been laughing their butts off instead of trying to save them - screaming in panic and stampeding over each other to escape the imminent alien invasion.

Why, inhale the helium from a few balloons and you will entertain folks until the effect wears off. It's not the Audio-Animatronic Abe Lincoln, but Morgan Freeman's narration, at the Disney Hall of Presidents that brings even the most hardened cynic to tears. And how funny would those three chipmunks be if they had the voices of - oh let's say - any member of Congress, instead of the squeaky cuteness people have loved for decades?! (Well not me. I can't stand the things, but you get my point.)

Here's a test. Read the following as if Orson Welles was the narrator:

"My mother was so mean, the grass moved out of her way when she walked out the door."

Now, read the same sentence as if it was being spat at you by Daffy Duck:

"My mother was so (spit spit) mean, the grass (spit spit) moved out of her way when she (spit spit) walked out the door."

 

 

 

Narration. Somehow I have to make sure I write as though Daffy himself was telling you the story. It's a tall order, but I'm up for the challenge....

 

 



Out of the Cesspool, a Leader Emerges

I don't know. Maybe it's me, living in a perpetual state of denial, but I thought we, as in citizens of the United States, had moved way past judging people over their sexual orientation. I sure as hell don't want someone questioning mine, so what is up with the resurgence of homophobia? What or who is driving this crazy train?

Some say terrorists. Really? But that wouldn't account for the trend sweeping the nation. Christian Fundamentalists? That is actually an oxymoron. From my understanding of Jesus Christ - he for whom the religion is named - he was far from judging and labeling (the Fundamentalists' modus operandi.) So, if we remove "Christian" then we're left with Fundamentalist. Here's the definition:

fundamentalism definition. A conservative movement in theology among nineteenth- and twentieth-century Christians. Fundamentalists believe that the statements in the Bible are literally true. Note: Fundamentalists often argue against the theory of evolution.

Fundamentalism | Define Fundamentalism at Dictionary.com

www.dictionary.com/browse/fundamentalism

 

Oh! That's right! I keep forgetting about those folks who have been mucking up education, people's lives and Christianity for - what? - decades now. They don't want evolution taught in schools, are foaming at the mouth against anyone with a different lifestyle and, worst of all, they are directly responsible for the Duggars. Literalists, huh? No, they cherry pick which of the biblical tenets they wish to enforce (on others) and which they choose to ignore (on their own behalf.)

But hold on, I thought they had withdrawn into their caves - due to the push back from intelligent folks who did not want them to redefine Christianity. You know, the real Christians who paid attention in Sunday School when the Gospels were read. All that stuff about loving one another and not judging; caring for the poor and not judging; all people are equal - and NOT JUDGING etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...

Could it be they were hibernating in those caves; waiting for a leader to emerge - someone like Vlad the Impaler?  For decades, Billy Graham kept them in check with his crusades in which he preached self condemnation with a good dose of schmaltz and that gut wrenching hymn, "Just As I Am." His son, Franklin, is a sloppy second who can't be taken seriously with some of the inane things he spouts.

No, they needed a powerful leader...(cue the drum roll).......

Donald Aloysius Frankenheimer D'Rumpf - er - Trump. Like his hero, Hitler, the Donald is rallying his troops; drawing them out of their caves and survivalist shelters and on to bigger things like destroying lives.

I can picture him sitting around the conference table with his "advisors" - you know - all of his mutant children, former beauty pageant winners and a slew of other whack a dos - planning his campaign tragedy strategy.

Donald: Okay - let's make a list - a yuge list - of everything we've ever heard the lowest of the low wish for.

Everyone else: Well they hate gays, and blacks and Mexicans and women...

Ivanka (Is that her name? All I remember is she is bff's with Chelsea Clinton): Wait a minute! I'm a woman! Daddy told me so and he even said he'd do me if I wasn't his daughter!

Everyone else: Okay - ugly and fat and old women.

Donald: Wait, strike 'old' cause they're the ones who will fall for this crap. Keep going...

Everyone else: Muslims! They hate them. Doesn't matter that millions of them are okay - we need to come up with an enemy for Donald to defeat.

Donald: I've got it! I will appeal to the OLD, WHITE, NOT GAY, CHRISTIAN FUNDAMENTALISTS, (somebody look up that word) RACIST PEOPLE WHO THINK AMERICA USED TO BE GREAT (when they were in control) AND I'LL TELL THEM I CAN MAKE IT GREAT AGAIN!
Done and done and now you're all fired....

P.S. I usually feel better after blogging - you know like how you feel after that first cup of coffee - but I actually feel worse. I'm gonna take a shower and start packing now. I know it's early, but I'm slow these days and I want to be ready to go if this monster somehow becomes the next potus...after which I will move my life to Canada...

Kumba-nah

Uh oh - my kumbaya mood is melting. When it was "just us" - you know - the Orlando community and people we trust like City Commissioner Patty Sheehan - speaking for our collective broken hearts - it felt like a family coming together to mend. Sure, we aren't all family, but many of us know someone who knew someone, etc. It is what makes Orlando unique. The entertainment community is tight knit, and so many of our folks are part of it in some way.
 

So now "the world" has taken over. The major networks are sending their people here - well not the pregnant females lest they get bit by a zika carrying mosquito - but the guys - all dressed in black like they give two...
 

Then the FBI director practically put the finger of guilt on us - not them - the ones who flagged this guy but dropped the ball - but those closest to the shooter, who should have blown the whistle. Like that would have made a damn bit of difference.

 

And if I hear one more shallow "you're in our thoughts and prayers," spoken with as much sincerity as gesundheit after a sneeze - I will puke. Spare us all of your "concern" and do your jobs. Oh, and how about we crack down on assault weapons - just sayin...

What is it Going to Take?

What is it going to take? That question is asked after every act of gun violence ends in loss of life and broken hearts. Last night's shooting of a beautiful, young singer adds one more name to the macabre list.

Christina Grimmie was twenty two years old. In her short life, her incredible talent took her  to The Voice, where she was among the top three. She was here, in my home town - a place where my son and his children had been just hours before the unthinkable happened - performing for fans.

Afterwards, she was signing autographs when a crazed man, with two guns, ran up to her and shot her point blank. Her brother tackled the guy, who turned the gun on himself and ended his miserable existence. Christina's brother is a hero who prevented the gunman from harming or killing anyone else.
Christina was taken to the hospital where she later died.

Those are the facts of the event. Here are the long lasting end results:

• Christina's family will never get over this loss. Ever. They will cry and feel broken as they think of their beautiful and talented loved one whose life was so quickly taken.

• Millions of Christina's fans are left in shock; never to see her perform again.

• Folks who witnessed the horror will never feel safe attending a concert or even driving through a parking lot again!

What is missing from this list? Collective public outrage, and a demand from the reasonable people I just know still exist, for an end - or even a beginning of an end - to this insanity.

After every tragedy, instead of gun sales going down - they go up! Do you gun fanatics realize her brother stopped the gunman - not with another gun - but with his body??!! How could having armed people everywhere have stopped this tragedy? Why, it could have possibly ended up in a free for all with people shooting each other.

Seriously. What is it going to take? I thought, after each tragedy, maybe this will be the thing which wakes America up to the craziness of our gun culture. The NRA is a revolting, insidious group of crazy people, determined to keep their wealth spawned by the propaganda they spout and the fear they generate. It's time the reasonable, sane people of this country stand up to the insanity and demand gun reform.
Actually, it's way past time.....

Hate is NOT the Answer

The aswer to ending hatred is not more hatred. The answer to ending violence is not more violence. The answer to ending pain and suffering is not inflicting more pain and suffering.

 

I have been following posts related to politics, animal rights and acts of violence committed against innocent humans. Some of those posts are so sad and raw it's only natural they will elicit strong emotion. They are supposed to. "The heart won't grieve what the eye can't see."

 

What I see that disturbs me is an undercurrent of pure hatred and vitriol against the perpetrators of the pain and suffering.

 

Hey, I get it. When I read about the Stanford rapist, I could have easily neutered him myself, given the chance. And when I see some of the heinous crimes commited against innocent animals, I want to see heads roll. The heads of the humans responsible for the acts that is. It's normal to want to seek revenge and justice.

 

But some of the things I read make me turn my attention to the writer - in concern. Do we really think it would be appropriate to, for example, "drag the person behind a moving truck" because they did that to a beautiful, sweet dog? Jail time - yes. Equally horrible retribution - uh, no. As much as we think the crime dictates the punishment we are forgetting one fundamental thing - all life is sacred.

 

I am so angry at the rapist and the judge who gave him practically no consequence whatsoever, but the answer is in changing laws and attitude - not distributing vigilante justice. There is little hope for us if:

 

A) Donald Trump and his small minded, muscle flexing becomes president because he has stirred up the hatred buried deep inside many people.

 

B) We don't stop and realize hatred is not the answer. It never was and it never will be.

Rape is Not a Sport

I have had it! Had my fill of reading about rape victims not receiving the justice they deserve. Once again, in my sixth decade of living in not one, but two centuries, I have seen little to advance the plight of women. Rape victims continue to be treated as though they somehow deserved the fate which befell them.

Recently, a 20-year old, white, Stanford University man found guilty of raping an unconscious 23-year old woman was sentenced to six months in jail!!! That's right. Even after a lengthy, impassioned letter from the victim, in which she described the horrible ordeal in sickening detail was read, the judge thought his deed only deserved a slap on the dick. Not even that - a bee sting on his inflated ego.

Actually, I suspect what carried more weight was the letter his daddy wrote on his behalf describing what a fine young man he is (gag) who made a foolish mistake and that he promises to never, ever steal somebody's virtue again (wink, wink.) Why, he's a swimmer, don't you know. Somehow that makes his miserable life more important than hers. Add to the misery are pictures of this bastard, grinning from ear to ear.

Granted, I do not know him. He may be a perfectly nice young man.....WAIT A MINUTE! - did I just have a mini stroke?! Calling him a "nice young man" is equivalent to saying Hitler was an artist so he must have had a soul. We all know what a soulless creature he really was. And I suspect this rapist guy is far from "nice" - or a one-time offender.

Somewhere along the line, he was either taught, or decided women are nothing more than holes in which to shove his miserable penis. It doesn't even matter if they're willing or unwilling; conscious or in a coma. This is despicable behavior and the judge who gave him such a light sentence should be disbarred. I think put in front of a firing squad, but that's me.

Society may tolerate this type of injustice - shoot, we're the same idiots who still judge a person by the amount of melanin in their skin or by the person to whom they are attracted - but that doesn't make it right anymore than racism or judgementalism is the way to salvation.

Something has to change, folks. It just has to.









 

I Go, You Go, We All Go For Ego

The latest hoopla, besides the daily saga of Donald Trump's bid for the presidency (cannot believe I wrote those last words) is the death of a seventeen year old gorilla in a zoo. Doesn't matter the location of the zoo, because they are pretty much all alike. They are places where humans come to gawk at animals in captivity. (More on that later.)

So, apparently, a young child (three or four depending on who's reporting) fell into the enclosure and, fearing the gorilla might accidentally or intentionally harm the child, the decision was made to shoot the animal. End of story? Hardly...

Humans, in typical fashion, are all over the place on this one. Thanks to social media, anyone with a computer can voice their opinion on a subject about which no one but the parents of the child and the zoo personnel are qualified to discuss. What is that adage about opinions?

Why, even I have an opinion. Quelle surprise! I have opinions galore about zoos, animals in captivity in general, parenting, religion, guns, politics, the weather, etc. etc. etc. Truth be told, my opinions come from one source and they carry a universal theme: All life is sacred and we must do everything within our power to protect it.

Notice I didn't say, "Only humans are sacred." Nor did I say "Only animals are sacred." Let me repeat that again (Yogi Berra, I miss you) All life is sacred and must be protected. (I abbreviated it that time.)

Life. From the tiniest microbe to the most majestic creature - all working together to sustain life on an evolving planet. Humans come somewhere in between but have claimed dominion. I used that word intentionally because it points directly to the source of Judeo-Christian philosophy that mankind has dominion over the Earth.

do·min·ion

dəˈminyən/

noun

noun: dominion; plural noun: dominions

1. 1.

   sovereignty; control.

   "man's attempt to establish dominion over nature"

   
   

   synonyms:

   supremacy, ascendancy, dominance, domination, superiority, predominance, preeminence, hegemony, authority, mastery, control, command, power, sway, rule, government, jurisdiction, sovereignty, suzerainty "at the time the Spartans had dominion over Athens"

I wish the authors (and theologians, spare me, because we all know "God" did not pen the Bible but rather humans were inspired then wrote whatever suited their purposes) had used a different word. Something like "stewardship" "conservation" "protection." Someone tell me how humans, with their huge egos, would ever interpret that to mean anything other than we are superior, therefore everything else is inferior! It is, in my opinion, the root of all the problems we face as humans.

We are, sadly, a nation of egomaniacs. No matter one's religion, socio-economic status, gender or politics, humans have become narcissists. Blame social media, pop culture or society in general - humans have a sense of entitlement.

 

Those with little to no ego, who want everyone and thing to live in peace and harmony, find themselves victims of ridicule. It is why so many people are divided over issues. On one hand, we have the forward thinking people who want to preserve the planet. On the other are the deniers. On one hand we have people who view all life as sacred. On the other are those who think humans rank supreme.

 

Judeo-Christians like to wave their Bibles and use it as a weapon against just about anyone. It has been proven that, with carefully crafted editing, the Bible can be used to defend or deny just about anything.

People, with their huge egos, have taken the word, dominion, and applied it to nearly everything. It has been used to defend the indefensible - slavery. It has been used to deny global warming.


(I'm sorry. I have to stop here. I cannot concentrate because my two Abyssinian cats are wreaking havoc. They have waged war on the kitchen counter top; knocking over a speaker; trying to pull a bag of rolls behind the mini tv; and racing back and forth like they're on fire!)

Where was I? Oh, yes, dominion. Well, I clearly have no dominion over my own household. Nor do I want it. I want the creatures with whom I live to want to be here. I want them to live in harmony as equals. Well, as sentient beings with the right to food, safety, love and happiness, even if that means I have to live with slobber, cat hair and nothing remotely breakable in sight.

I am deeply opposed to zoos, circuses, animal theme parks (and Sea World, this means you,) petting zoos (yes, I have added them) and factory farming. Pretty much anything that exploits animals for human gain - food, clothing and entertainment.

I confess to being one of those folks who tried to detach from reality regarding the consumption of animal flesh. I saw neatly packaged cuts of meat in the grocery store - not the whole creature from which it came. I did get upset every Thanksgiving; cleaning a whole turkey which is undeniably a huge, headless bird. Now, I have done many things over the years that have upset my family, but serving a tofurkey would have been the last straw.

Something snapped in me when I saw pictures and videos of the way animals are handled in factory farms. The images have haunted me and I can no longer pass the meat section in the grocery store without seeing the steps of pain and horror which got it there.

Ego, thy name is human. I doubt we can evolve as a species until we rid ourselves of it. Until we realize "dominion" is the wrong word. (Hey, the Bible was written a long time ago and much of it was cultural and specific to the time period.) Let's try "harmony" instead. Not the sappy soda commercial variety but a realization that all life is sacred and must be protected. As a matter of fact, other religions seem to have a much better grasp of that concept.

Let's stop looking at animals as commodity or entertainment. Let's stop chewing away at their natural habitat; causing them to move into forbidden human habitat, seeking food. Let's conserve and preserve rather than confine and profit. Our collective fate rests on this. So let's abolish the collective ego.

Oh, and as for the child falling into the gorilla enclosure. Well, he did declare his intention which was to "jump in the water." I do not know why his parent(s) didn't take him seriously. I have a step-grand who has as many as four adults jumping to attention when he makes one of his declarations of intent.

However, I will not say, "Stuff happens." Certain things shouldn't happen. There shouldn't be a way for anything to get past a barrier designed to separate one species from another more powerful one. Horror flicks have made fortunes on that theme.  (King Kong, Jurassic Park, Jaws come to mind). And in every one, the moral of the story is that the creature should not be confined in the first place and humans are just idiots with huge egos!!!!

If it Quacks Like a Duck...

 

  

Inspired by a friend's recent post, urging people to speak up about harassment or abuse, I came this close (holding my thumb and forefinger about 1/4 inch apart) to finally telling my side of a story which happened over a decade ago (how can that be possible?)
 

I wrote it all down in my new blog (here,) then just saved it instead of posting it. Today, I deleted it. The thing is, cathartic as it was to pour out the sordid details, it also took me back to a time I have tried so hard to forget. People who let me down and events that were on par with getting a diagnosis of terminal cancer or finding out your lifelong favorite football team hired dog-killer, Michael Vick...
 

They're supposed to be the "safe" ones. The people who have taken a vow to "do no harm" or follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. But history has proven no vow or white collar or robe ensures that person won't morph into a demon when their human frailty is tested. Just ask a Catholic altar boy.

Even worse - those who hire or support them. The ones who don't want to get their hands dirty. People who claim to be "merciful" yet surround themselves with henchmen to do their dirty work are, in my opinion, despicable hypocrites.
 

Sounds dramatic, huh? Actually it was, but even more so, it was sad. The upshot is, my life was turned upside down by a mentally diseased human, who carefully calculated and acted out a scenario worthy of Shakespeare. That it took nearly a decade to come to fruition shows how devious a mind can be. For me, it was like watching my life's work go over Niagara Falls in a barrel. There I stood in my little yellow raincoat; helpless to stop that barrel.

 

This particular person was very calculating. He had a lot of people fooled. If only I had paid attention when something (God, the Holy Spirit, the ghost of my dead grandmother) tried to warn me when we first met. I remember that day vividly.

 

Church members, who were on a personal campaign to bring as many people as possible into the fold, like it would ensure them a good table in Heaven, stopped me in the hallway of our church office one Sunday morning. They wanted me to meet their newest recruits - I'll call them Fred and Wilma. Now "Wilma" was very sweet. When I shook "Fred's" hand, however, and looked into his black eyes, a chill ran up my back and the hair on my neck stood up. I had a visceral reaction that this person was evil. Turns out my gut (or grandma) was spot on.

 

Over the years, it was like he made it his personal mission to infiltrate my life and work. I hated him but that's not "Christian" now, is it. So, I did something I have repeated with several similar situations in my life; when my gut told me a person was trouble, but my heart wanted to prove otherwise.

 

In every single one of those situations, rare though they've been, my darn gut was right. The "something" I did, which came back to haunt me, was to try and befriend the person. Like the persistent door to door salesman, sticking his foot in your open door, that was all this man needed to gain entry into my life. It was all downhill from there.

In the end, I just had to confront the demon. I was not going to let him into my life. He could not control it or me. Because he had wormed his way into a position of power in the church, it was him or me. The good old boy's club sacrificed me. I mean, this guy had managed to get ordained! I was simply a long time, faithful employee who did not have the necessary appendage to win: a penis.

 

Oh, but a year later, a more powerful penis brought him down. The husband of the young woman he seduced when she came to him for counseling. When the husband caught them he went straight to the the District Superintendent and, not wanting to risk scandal, they promptly defrocked and fired him. To this day, no one has offered an apology to me. Probably for the best because I wouldn't accept it anyway.

 

Folks, if you're listening out there - trust your gut!  If it quacks like a duck, it's probably a sociopath in a duck suit.