New Years Resolutions

I read a post on how the New Years resolutions seem to mostly be designed by the patriarchy to keep women less than. And that while men get some kickback it’s really not as pervasive for them. 

Agreed. 

This is my response:

 it’s also capitalism. It’s patriarchal, of course. the “”health” and beauty” industry is like one giant metaphoric foot binding.

 Not only does it hurt and not give what it said, but it keeps us hobbled so we can’t be free on our own. And as long as we can only see how we don’t measure up (and keep buying/trying/dying to do so) we can never really come into our power.

 Because the patriarchy lives in eternal fear of the matriarchy and women’s true full power.

Carols

Yesterday I was driving alone and an old style Christmas carol came on. “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” I sang along as I haven’t in quite a while. (Wonderful what the solo car let’s one do.)

I was reminded of when I was a kid and we lived with my grandparents. We would gather round and sing carols as part of our family gathering. 

We did it for more than one reason, but one of the main reasons was because my Aunt Barbara loved it. She had cerebral palsy and epilepsy and most of the time she lived in care. But she would come home for the holidays and she loved to sing the carols. 

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. And that carol on the radio just felt nice. Like a hug from my Christmas Past. 

Felicitous Salutations on Your Light in the Darkness Winter Festivities!!

May the Love and Light Warm Your Heart

And the World. 

My thoughts on why run for president. 

So, I was trying to figure out why Trump even ran for president. It’s not like he doesn’t have other shit going on. 

I have a friend who said she thought it was because he was bored. Maybe that’s part of it. Or the challenge of seeing if he could pull it off. 

I think those are factors, but not the main reason. I couldn’t figure it out at first. What was his payoff? He wouldn’t do it without an endgame. 

And then he appointed his Ambassador to the Philippines who happens to be a guy who is helping build Trump’s hotel there. 

And then everything clicked and I saw the game. 

You know that well to do person who gets on the city council or the county planning committee in order to influence the zoning and regulations in their favor? And the favor of their friends and cronies?

This is the ultimate version of that. He now gets to wheel and deal his way across the globe using his position of power as well as his wealth to grab the globe by the pussy. He can take what he wants as much as he wants and few will gainsay him because his worshippers have definitely drunk the koolaid and nobody can have a calm discussion anymore. 

I hope the rest of the world boycotts us and him. I hope they rise up in regulatory and negotiation resistance. I hope the people here figure out little he cares for the little people. Because the people who put him there are the ones who’ll be first effected. 

Try. Try to reach across party lines to foster real discussion and constructive debate. We can’t stand around taking stabs at each other anymore. We need to collaborate. It’s truly the only way out of this clusterfuck we’ve built for ourselves. 

Let’s Pretend

Let’s pretend

Just for a minute 

Let’s pretend 

that I’m not a 

whiny, entitled, libtard, idiot. 

Let’s pretend 

Just for a minute 

That you’re not a

Redneck, racist, asshole. 

Just for a minute

Let’s pretend that there is more to your story than the soundbites the media feeds us about you and your kind acting with hate. 

Let’s pretend 

Just for a minute 

That there’s more to my story than the soundbites the media feeds us about me and my kind acting entitled and looking for a handout. 

Let’s pretend 

For a minute or two

Or maybe an hour

That the full complexity of you or me cannot be summed up in 30 seconds of yelling on tv in a volatile situation filtered by the powers that own the media who can’t stand the thought that we might stop fighting and figure out the wizard is behind the curtain frantically manipulating the special effects. 

Let’s pretend we’re humans who are in this together. Let’s pretend we don’t hate each other and maybe only misunderstand where the other is coming from. 

Let’s pretend we can talk to each other 

and listen to each other with open hearts and closed mouths and open minds. 

Let’s pretend. 

Just

For

Minute

Blinders

It’s like we are standing facing each other. So I can see what’s going on behind you and you can see what’s going on behind me. But neither of us can see behind our side. 
I see posts about people who feel freed to act out against those damn [racial slur deleted] or [religious slur deleted] in the way they always wanted. Because they think it’s okay now. 
I see posts about how the rioting protesters are acting ridiculous and should just shut up and go home. 
But I don’t see these posts from the same people. It’s like we don’t even see the same things. 
We are all self feeding our own points of views with the tv we choose and the internet we select. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t watch what you want. I’m just saying to take off our blinders and seek out more than one or two information sources. Don’t assume that the other party is lying just because you don’t agree. 
We will have to find a more middle ground which means everyone will need to listen more. And listen to more sides than just our own. 
I love you. I love you as more than your politics. I want you to do the same. Project your own feelings of dismay or disenfranchisement or fear onto the other side. They are feeling it too. Either that is why you wanted change or that is the reaction to this change. 

We can no longer afford to be stubborn polarized cronies. Or we’ll see it all come to a terrible end. And the people who will lose aren’t any of those candidates…it’ll be the regular folks. 

The thing to do. 

The only thing I know for sure is that love is the way. The way through. The way over. Around. The way to the other side of hate and negativity to see the fear that motivates it. So, I love you. 

I love you if you voted the same as me. I love you if you voted differently. I love you in spite of, or maybe because of, our differences. 

What we need now is love that is fierce and powerful and raging. That burns with a fire through the bluster to the truth. The truth that you are scared of something, change maybe. 

We need radical empathy and compassion. We need to build a generation of young adults (not just one), that is far more lovingly connected and able to empathize with one another. 

We are too enamored of our comparisons and dichotomies. We cannot continue in this us/them divisive culture. We must connect and socialize and interact across boundaries and walks of life. The things that divide us must go. These constructs of separation must be dismantled so we can see each other in the light. 

We aren’t as different as we seem. 

We must find a way to talk to each other that doesn’t involve name calling and visciousness. We must listen to each other and hear each other. We must find a way to heal our wounds and love each other forward to anew world. 

Lies and stuff. 

People often tell me things. Or reveal themselves when I happen to notice. I’m a fairly good listener. Or at least, I’m quiet, which is often mistaken for listening. I tend to listen and evaluate and pay attention a lot more than folks realize, I guess. It’s a learned mechanism, for the most part, from feeling awkward in new social situations and having the experience often since we moved a lot when I was younger. 

Most of the time I think they are telling me the truth, at least as they know it to be. 

I only know of one person that I caught out in a blatant and complete untruth. Mostly because he made up a story based on something that I said, but he wasn’t listening or wasn’t familiar with a term I’d used and so his premise to the story was completely off base. 

***

When we were in our teens my best friend and I became involved in Rennaisanse Faires. She started going out with a fellow she met at a faire who went by the name of Fidget.  I can’t remember his actual name, though I’m reasonable sure I knew it at the time. 

Over the course of their relationship we began to suspect that he was something of a pathological liar. We mostly felt that the real proof that he was not a member of a top secret Japanese martial arts gang was the fact that he told us about it. He had a couple stories that he liked to tell that we had a fairly good idea weren’t true but since he was mostly amusing, no one seemed to be getting hurt, and she really did like him, we just sort of went along with it. He was one of those guys who would hear your story and have a “me too” and “I was there” amendment. 

***

When I was 13 or so, I went with my grandma on this fantastic trip to Africa with long layovers in New York and London coming and going. One of the things that we did while in London was to take a tour down the Thames River  on a boat called The Marchioness. A few weeks after we returned home there was an accident where a garbage skow* rammed into The Marchioness, tearing it in two and sinking it. This seemed like quite a coincidence and certainly lucky for us that it didn’t occur while we were there. 

*if you, like Fidget, don’t know, this is a boat that carries garbage. 

****

We were talking about this weird accident that happened with the boat in London. He picked up the “me too” ball and ran with it. According to him he was sitting on a park bench overlooking the river when it happened. He was close enough to see the truck driver’s look of horror as he careened out over the river and crashed into the boat. It was very exciting and traumatic. 

So, yeah. We knew for sure after that that he was full of it. We would laugh about it, but for whatever reason never called him out on it. 

Eventually the bag of things wrong with him became heavy enough that she let him go. Not specifically for the bs he would say, but I’m sure it was a factor. 

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