Archive for the ‘"Those People"’ Category

First off, I survived my 40th birthday insanity and came out the other side with only a few bruises and minor flesh wounds…and a hangover.  It was one heck of a time and a whole lotta fun, and well, I looked upon it and found it good, except the hangover.  Those are never good.  But celebration time is now over and once again, I shall now press my crooked nose to the grindstone and make good on my promise to say shit some people are thinking and don’t wanna say and others sure as shit don’t wanna hear….so let’s get back to that elephant, I reckon its about time…

I’ve discussed the Elephant in the Room before, overview and prologue style.  But hey, I like to dig, I’m a digger.  I gnaw on things, digest, consider, and dig some more.  And as I have been doing that, mentally feasting and such, I reckon it is now time; time to do the unthinkable, something real unpopular, but something that needs doing.  It’s a double fuck for certain, but I’m gonna do it anyway.  It’s time for not only a history lesson, but some defense of white folk…especially and including…white dudes.

Oh shit, now I’ve gone and done it, yeah?   Oh well, what else is new?

Now, I have talked before about how there is still one group of people it is socially acceptable to make fun of, a group that is mocked and belittled in a way that well, if one were to mock or belittle other groups of people in such a fashion it would kill their careers and they’d be persona non-gratis pretty much anywhere for a long time.  I mean, if Gene Weingarten had said something similar about Hispanic, black, Chinese, Iranian or any other sort of folk…what do you honestly think the reaction would be?  If he’d made it a “humorous jibe” about someone defending their opium den and Cantonese fried cat or low riders and burritos or crack house and chicken or gold coins and matzoh balls or any other countless insulting cultural stereotypes…do you think he’d still be a popular unsanctioned writer and humorist for the Washington Post?  Really?  Seriously? For some reason I suspect otherwise.  I really do.  Folk who have done such have paid for the crime, because its not okay to do that…unless you do it to certain kinds of white folk…and Weingarten proves just how okay it is.  Which burns my biscuits, actually.  Why, you might ask?  Well…

Let’s talk some history first, shall we?  I am a fan after all.  History can be very informative, interesting, scary, and well, it is the story of humans.  However, it is the story of humans as written by the winners and in truth, for the most part…rich white dudes.   Not all white dudes…rich white dudes.  And being mad at rich white dudes?  I’m okay with that.  They have- historically and all- proven themselves to be greedy douchebags who will use, abuse, and sell out folk- of all races, colors, and genders- if it will earn ’em a buck.   This has been historically proven even!  And while rich white dudes do have a tendancy to try to control and regulate everything, from cash flow to the info that makes it down to us plebians, they don’t always succeed.  So yeah, lets get on with that, shall we?

As everyone here knows I should hope, the US engaged in slavery.  We all know that.  We also know that colonists did absolutely horrible things to the Native Americans/First People of North America; everything from land theft to mass murder.   But, as I sit here, in history mode and all, I want y’all to consider your own roots.  Are ya Irish?  Or Scottish? Or English? Or German?  Or Slavic of any sort?  Then chances are, when your people arrived here on a boat, if they did so before oh, 1865 or so, chances are they did not necessarily do so by choice.  They were probably coerced to come here, or did so as indentured servants, or to work other (rich, white) peoples land, or fight in wars, or as convicts (oddly enough, England sent convicts here prior to the Revolutionary War, then they turned to Australia) or in countless other ways that hardly count as bold and noble endeavors.   Much like a great many of the non-white folk who got screwed by rich white folk, tons of white folk were also screwed: lied to, abducted, abused, tortured, killed, owned, and otherwise fucked over…and they may very well be your ancestors.  If you read up on the ships who brought non-rich white folk over here, or the lives they lived, or how they were treated, worked, abused and screwed, you might see some similarities- many, many, many similarities- to how the non-white folk were treated.  Terminology was sometimes different, sometimes the same…but to me, an Irish indentured servant shipped over to the new world by Cromwell who ended up being sold and worked to death in a field is really not so different from anyone else who ended up in a similar situation.

Fascinated by this notion,  I myself did some digging into my own family tree, and while my direct people only got here recently- pre WWII/post WWII and all- I did find some interesting shit…it seems a whole bunch of my dad’s side of the family (the Russian side) were hung for stealing horses, and those who weren’t were tossed outta Russia…they eventually made it to America…where a bunch of ’em were hung in Colorado/ Wyoming/ Utah…for stealing horses (apparently my people had a one track minds and never learned nothing at the end of a rope!).  Many of my Mom’s side of the family left economic destitution in North England and ended up in Louisiana and Georgia… during the Civil War.  They did not travel for free.  I found all this very interesting, and wondered just how many other white folk like me…well, how did their families get here?  Surely they were not all rich land owners, blue-bloods, people who owned other people…and sure enough, I bet you a pair of snake skin boots that a great many of us?  Well, your ancestors or family relations made it here to the New World just like some of my people did; as convicts or labor or kicked out of their own countries- kidnapped or lied to or led on- bought, sold, owned, worked hard and treated poorly.   And you know what?  None of us got acres or mules either.  In fact?  Those folk sorta got fucked.  After all, rich folk have been fucking not rich folk- of all colors- since feudal times…and they still are.

History lesson done.  But History lesson in mind…how the hell is it okay to think that every white person in the US is the same, starting from the same place, and with all the same privileges?  Even the white dudes?   For years now, rich white dudes have been running the show and shitting on everyone.  Poor white dudes- like poor folk of other colors and genders-they’ve been taking it up the ass, no kiss, no lube, no reach around, for eons.  Just like everyone else.  They don’t start wars, they just fight in them.  They don’t own factories, they work in them.  They don’t drive BMW’s, they repair them.  They work in coal mines and on oil rigs and in processing plants- doing often dangerous jobs for often decreasing wages and being thankful that they work at all- just like everyone else.  They worry about their futures and families, just like everyone else.  And even those who bought into the White Collar American dream?  The tech guys and business guys and such?  They are finding their jobs outsourced and their positions downsized and their hours increasing while their paychecks grow smaller- just like everyone else.  Why?  Because if history teaches one anything, its that money is and has always been the bottom line, profit is king, people are cogs, and those few with the power and the money will do anything and everything to keep it, screw everyone; regardless of color, race, nationality, religion, gender, sexual preference or any other difference.  Other people, even poor white dudes, are nothing more to them than a bottom line of productivity.  That has not changed.  From the feudal holds of Europe to the plantations of the South to the Factories of the North to the Railroads of the West to the Mines of…well, any goddamn mine, from West Virginia to Colorado…men, women, children worked and died and made very little headway in doing so, but they did make a very select few rich…and it did not matter if they were white, black, yellow or brown, Chinese, Irish, Former Slaves or Free Men.  Profit is color blind.  And it still is.  To this day.

Yet, that truth, that very real and historical fact, does not change the fact that not rich white folk, including and maybe even especially the dudes, get to eat shit and take blame for rich white folk even though they got screwed too, and are still being screwed too.  They get blamed for shit they never did, accused of holding attitudes and power they do not have- and likely never had or will ever have- they because they are white, and some of ’em are male, get to take all the hate and blame for shit they not only had no hand in, but were victims of too…and they don’t even have the modern politically correct mode of thinking that makes racism or sexism or religious intolerance against other folk unsavory and seriously life impacting on their side at all.  It’s STILL okay and funny to make fun of “those people”, the men and the women.  Why?  Cause well, “those people” are white…and all white people are the same, and started off with all the good shit, and historically have always had the good shit, and all that other crap too, right?

Say it to me with a straight face, I dare you.  Especially to my face.  Tell me how the majority of white people are Rockefeller’s or Vanderbilt’s.  Tell me how the majority, historically and culturally, have really always had it so good and had a head start over everyone else in life…especially the dudes.  Tell me we all look alike and are just the same.  Tell me it’s okay to trash those people because they are trash and are just lazy and failed to excel because they started off so ahead in life just because they are…white.  Tell me that, and I’ll call ya a liar.

Clue here, nobody, regardless of color or gender or any other thing, has an easy time pullin’ themselves up by their bootstraps if they have no boots, and rich white dudes have done a good job of keeping boots off a whole lotta feet- because passing out boots to everyone, even other white folk, would not be profitable!

But who want to talk about class and how its not okay to make fun of white people who aren’t rich and aren’t the people who fucked everyone (and are still fucking everyone) over and how  we got no reason to be angry or feel slighted?  After all, it ain’t popular…

Elephants in the room never are…

I am no fan of the Second Amendment, inasmuch as it tends to be the refuge of bumpkins and yeehaws who like to think they are protecting their homes against imagined swarthy marauders desperate to steal their flea-bitten sofas from their rotting front porches. ..  Gene Weingarten, Washington Post

One, obviously this bastion of modern intellect and humor has never had anything flea infested.  If he had, he’d realize putting said object outside makes sense- one, gets the flea empire outside, and two, first good freeze will kill the little fuckers but good.  But anyway, all that ranting I do about how folk make fun of, ahem, those people, and how it’s damned okay fine woohoo and if, oh, they pulled that shit with, ahem, other subgroups of people, they’d get crucified?

Ayep.  Exhibit A, right there.

He has also obviously never been a 5’2″ 100 pound woman either.

So, screw you, Gene.

Sincerely- A Yeehaw

*If they look the part and live in the right places…

First, I gotta say, you make three posts in a row involving firearms and I guess people start to look at ya funny.  So today, no firearms, and back to some posting I promised.  So yeah, let’s get on with that then, shall we?

It was prolly more than a month ago I read an article about a program up in NYC that had been set up to help out disadvantage/at risk young men- you know, provide them with choices other than crime and gangs and drugs and such.  It seemed that the focus group of this program was Latino males age 12 to about 20.  And I am not going to poo-poo such things, I think if we are gonna spend money on programs,  any sorta program that helps kids and young adults avoid trouble is a good thing.   Yet still, reading about this program, for young Latino males, in NYC, stuck this little hook  in my brain, and it would not go away.

So I started digging around, looking into this sort of thing, these kinds of programs, finding out more about them:  where they were, who they were for, how they were run, who paid for ’em, things of that nature.  Results of that digging?    Well, results have lead me to believe that we, as a society, seek to help our most disadvantaged and at risk so long as they look the part and and live in the right places.  You see, a  great majority of these programs are in large cities, are geared towards black and hispanic populations, and tend to be far more prevelant for young men/boys than for young women/girls.    Many are government funded, others are private and rely on donations from the public (often a few very wealthy folk)- which may play into why they are mostly in cities, after all, the government tends to pay more attention to big cities (more money, more businesses, more voters, so on), and well, big cities also tend to have more folk wealthy enough to donate to/fund private run organizations of this nature.  If you look around, there are plenty of these sorts of programs in places like NYC, LA, Pheonix, Chicago, Philly, San Diego, Dallas,  Atlanta, Miami, so on…BIG CITIES .  You even find them in not so giant metropolisis like Minneapolis, Indianapolis, Buffalo, so on.  But they are, without a doubt, a city thing, and geared towards a certain section of society: boys and young men who are black or Latino.  Heck, even in NYC, it is far easier for a man to find a bed in a homeless shelter than a woman…after all, many times women have children with them, and shit, that gets expensive!

So, then I did some more digging and found some interesting stats, and really, not a lot in the way of programs, government funding, private funding, or even mere interest in such problems for these issues- at all-in the actual areas where they ARE issues!  Aside from downgrading these folk as not important enough to HAVE programs…  For Instance:

The States with the Highest Rates of Teen Pregnancy Are:

New Mexico
North Carolina

Hummm, you notice a theme there?  Aside from maybe California & Texas, and maybe Florida?  Which are  HUGE states full of cities, but also gotta ton of rural areas too. Oh yeah, and well, pregnancy happens to…females…

How about Unemployment?  I mean, this is an issue everyone can prolly agree is a big issue.  And these programs address it a lot, providing people with job skills and work ethic and alternatives to crime and all those things…programs that seek to empower young men, and to a lesser degree, young women, to enter and be a productive part of the work force.  And yeah, well all know the economy is crap, but…

States with the Highest Unemployment Rates are:

South Carolina
Washington DC*  (district, not a state, but it’s up there anyway)
Rhode Island
North Carolina

Once again, Cali on this list,  FL and even DC too, but humm, a few over laps there, yeah?

How about the stats on High School Drop Outs?  That one might play into this whole deal too, yeah? That putting young adults and kids into disadvantaged/ at risk zones?  So here we go for that one, states and stats style:

States with the Highest Drop Out Rates:

North Carolina
South Carolina
New Mexico

Then I even kind of took a different tack, since I am sort of on the subject of at risk and disadvantaged… so how about suicide rates?  I mean, for someone to kill themselves, shit has gotta be pretty dire I reckon.  As a general rule, one is gotta be pretty dang depressed and lookin’ at a glass that is more than half empty to take themselves out…so, I looked into that. First thing that caught my eye is the leading group of folk who off themselves is white men, followed by white women.   But lets look at the states and stats on that one too:

State Stats for Suicide:

New Mexico
West Virgina

Hell, look at  that, Nevada for the win, or lose as it may be!

And then I looked into some other stuff, watched some documentaries on the History Channel, the Health Channel, A&E, things of that nature, where I learned that well, it’s not LA, or NY, or Boston or Chicago where drug use rates are jumping through the roof.  It’s…Ohio.  Where the abuse of prescription painkillers and heroin use has hit afterburner levels of increase.  Ohio.  Nevada, New Mexico, Colorado, Oklahoma, Missouri, Arkansas- dramatic increase in the use of everything from methamphetamine to heroin (and most prevalent amid white folk).  Alcoholism?  Very big deal in places like Alaska,  Nevada (again), Wyoming and North Dakota- and seemingly most prevalent amid white folk and Native American folk.   Oh, and for the record, the state with the highest rate of illiteracy is Mississippi I do believe.  And you know what I noticed?

None of these places are NYC,  and no one, from the government to private citizens, are paying too much attention or spending too much money trying to, oh…fix this? Help out?  Do shit to help these disadvantaged or at risk people?  Now, I had my resident Devil’s Advocate suggest the reason for this is because well, the government is focusing on trying to keep young men and boys outta gangs and turn ’em into productive citizens…to wit I responded, the widely regarded most dangerous gang in, oh, the world? MS-13.  Whose  US headquarters are in…ahem…Manassas Va.  Not LA, not NYC, not Chicago, or Detroit, or Phoenix, or Dallas.  Yep, right here in good ole Manassas Va.   And ya know, Manassas is not swimmin’ in the programs designed to keep kids from going bad, and it ain’t a big city either.   And the world does not begin and stop, alpha and omega style, with young men who are at risk for joining gangs, yet there seems to be very little out there for anyone other than them.  I also noticed, well, not to much interest at all in stopping white dudes, Asians, Native Americans,  or…gasp…women/girls from joining gangs (and they do, believe it or not-all those groups of people in our society have/join/belong to gangs!)

I am also big on playing Devil’s Advocate myself, but I honestly think this time, it ain’t the Devil’s Due I am advocating.  I dunno if people need to yell at their congressmen, or rich folk in town, or speak with their votes, or go to their churches, or what…but damn.  Look at those stats y’all.  Nevada sounds like one of Dante’s Circles of Hell as far as this shit goes, and (ahem) so do states like Georgia, North and South Carolina, Florida, Mississippi, New Mexico, so on.  States that are not necessarily swimming in big cities or big money (casinos aside for NV).  I mean hell, NY is not on a single ONE of those stat lists.  Nor is Illinois!  You know, where NYC and Chicago are!  And you know…cause you can bet I noticed it, a lot of these states on this here list (not all, but many), they are the American West/ Southwest and the South.  And with the exceptions of Texas, Cali, and Florida?  Not swimming in cash, or…voters.  And it leads me to wonder…why is someones son or daughter -black, brown, white, yellow, mixed, or any other thing, in a NYC or Chicago or LA or any other big city area more deserving of help, of assistance, of programs than someones son or daughter in Nevada, or Georgia, or Mississippi?  Or anywhere else for that matter?  Why are people who are more at risk for joining gangs or what not taking almost universal precedent over folk who are at risk for dropping out, getting pregnant, having no job, or, well, killin’ themselves?  IMHO, they aren’t.   And while I am pretty far from a yay government- funded social programs for everyone kinda gal, it seems to me if we are going to have them, at all, we need to spread that love around- make it an equal thing, with shit out there and available to folk in urban and rural areas, for women and men, and for folk of all colors…because damn, it looks like Nevada could use a program like the one I read about in NYC a hell of a lot more than NYC could.

I think it comes down to a couple things, really.  Votes prolly has something do to with it….but I also think we, in the US, have poster child-ed (yeah, I made it up) a very specific type of person  (young black or Latino male) as our most disadvantaged and at risk members of society.  That imagine is not accurate, and not representative, and in fact, probably pretty dangerous all around for everyone.   A dude who fits that image is no more at risk or disadvantaged than a pregnant sixteen year old girl in Mississippi or a drug addicted out of work white guy in Nevada…and it is long past fuckin’ time we figured that shit out and used social programs to truly help our most disadvantaged and at risk members- regardless of what they look like or where they live.

* sources:  Suicide Stats, Pregnancy Stats, Unemployment Stats    Drop out stats

Television and other media: Words Most Dangerous Drug (Discovery), Heroin in the Heartland (Oxygen), American Meth (History),  Drugs in America (Discovery Health), The Worlds Most Dangerous Gang (Discovery),  Intervention Special: Epidemics- Florida, Ohio, Nevada (A&E) , Gangland: MS-13, Gangland: Gangster Girls (Discovery).

Odd title, yeah?  Well, I reckon it’s gonna be an odd post so it seems fitting.   In any event, let’s get on with it.

So yeah, I grew up a poor white kid.  I’ll prolly lay on some more detail with that in a later post, but I’ll go ahead and get some basics outta they way here first.  I spent the early part of my life- first 15 years or so- in Colorado.  We lived near the very edge of the Denver City line, not in the downtown area, but not Suburbia either, kinda out there off  I-70.  Like a block from the highway.  Not much out there at the time really…some houses, a couple factories, things of that nature.  We did have trees though, old ones even!  Anyway, we lived the four of us in tiny ranch style house, 2 bedrooms, one bath, living area, kitchen.  That was pretty much it…and bars over the windows.  No AC, which believe it or not, it does get hot in Colorado, and heat that worked sometimes.  Electricity paid sometimes.  No fire place.  I know the unfathomable joy of government cheese.  Clothes that did not fit right cause they had belonged to my older brother- whom I shared a room with- first.  My uncles often had them before him.   Sharing a room was never one of those things I thought of as kinda odd until later.  Privacy is one of those things folk who do not have much in the way of money do without, and get used to.  Oh, and plastic bags rubber-banded over your tennis shoes in winter, because actual boots are not things you had.  We went to the doctor for yearly school mandated check-ups that the school charity programs helped foot the bill for otherwise something had to be obviously broken, you were bleeding profusely, or you were spikin’ one hell of a fever.  I broke 8 fingers that were never set and remain crooked to this day, and I was 17 the first time I ever saw a dentist.  Medical Emergency meant just that.   So yeah, there are some basics.  Thing was, in my neighborhood, all the kids were like that, and we all knew the same drill.  You carried around extra rubber bands in case your friends broke mid snowball fight, and you expected if you were over at a neighbors house, you might be leaving your coat on because it was likely they might not have heat either.  It’s just how it was…and we all knew it.   We all, in my neighborhood, knew that Mr. Kowalski, who lived across the street from me, had an ex-wife who never came around, a new wife who was about the same age as his oldest daughter and did not ever seem to come outside, and when she did, she had sunglasses on even when there was no sun.  His dogs were mean, and when he was really lit, he’d fire guns in the air.  We all knew that the lot down by the highway overpass was a good place to toss around a football, but you were gonna risk broken glass and other kinds of trash and debris to play there.  Hell, most of our first exposure to condoms was kicking used ones out of our lot.  And as it was, all of us, the kids in that neighborhood, we accepted that’s all there was and for a time, none of us knew any better…and we were, looking back on it, probably pretty content.  We had fun.  We did things like normal kids do; built forts, played games, explored drainage ditches we were told to stay out of,  set off M-80 fireworks and managed to keep all our fingers, talked about the Local Sports Teams, had snowball fights, even had birthday parties where presents like coloring books and matchbox cars and things of that nature were a big fuckin’ deal.   Most of us knew what it was like to have one or more unemployed or seemingly always looking for work parents, and at least one relative who was doing time for something.  And yep, sure enough, all the kids in my neighborhood were white kids.  We also fought, the girls and the boys alike.  Someone disrespected someone else’s parents or family?  Yep, fists would fly.  Someone picked on someone else’s siblings?  There was a kick coming for them.  Someone chanted or jeered at you?  You answered that with a punch.  It didn’t happen often, but it happened enough that unwritten rules of conduct were written amid us, rules we’d prolly picked up from parents who would do the same, and that was the way of our world…and not a single one of us figured anyone else’s world was much different.  Until we went to school that is.  Then we all learned the world, that big bag huge wide place past the highway and our neighborhood, was a vastly different and not everyone lived like we did or by the same unwritten rules.  When the school day ended and we came home, it was game on, life as usual, but there was not a single one of us who returned home with the impression that our world was the whole of the world, and we all learned quickly that kids like us, with families like ours?  Well, we weren’t looked too highly upon, not at all, and any expectations of us?  Well, they were pretty bad.

And I will admit, without much shame and without much pride, I lived up to those bad expectations.  My brother?  In those days he was without a doubt the tough one, but in a non-traditional sense.  People made fun of him for certain, but rather than fall to the bait, he made good grades, developed an amazing wit and sense of humor, and managed to be everyone’s friend.  And for a guy who, at the time, was the short, fat kid with a bad limp from a dog attack and hand me downs and rubber bands around his tennis shoes, this was no small feat.  Me?  I kinda went the other way.  I got in fights, I flunked classes, I got suspended, I did not make friends.  I got told I would be dead, a junkie, or in prison by the time I was seventeen.  And once told that, by a teacher no less…I sorta did my damnedest to live up to such low expectations.  Hell, the other girls got told they would get knocked up and be married to a dude who kicked the snot out of ’em by seventeen.  I did not rate that prediction.  I rated true low life, and well, if enough people tell you something, you start to believe.  I was out and away from the strange but comfortable coccon of my neighborhood, and well, white kids in Denver at the time, especially white girls?  We don’t rate gangs, unless they are Neo-Nazi ones (which, uh, no).  I saw how other people lived, what they had, and learned really, really early on what they thought of people like me, how they treated us, and what expectations they had of us, so I decided long about second grade, if folk were gonna think the worst of me…I might as well give them reason.  And I sort of did.  Thing that was funny was, well, I did not suck at sports.  I may have gotten in fights every other day (I did make the mistake of popping a girl who made fun of my clothes straight in the mouth, never knowing she was the daughter of my schools Vice Principal), and I may have barely managed a D in any subject other than Gym or Art…but yeah, I did good at sports- which cut me a lot of slack, even as a white female, and I admit that.  But that sorta thing?  That’s a double edged sword.  A whole lotta people have asked me over the years how I could stand using my body, like in the sex industry sense, to make a living.  My answer?  Hell, I been using it since I was 8 in one form or another to get by- from school sports to sucker punches to stripping…it’s been my way.    But unlike my tougher in a non-traditional sense older brother, whom I kicked asses for and he made me laugh when I thought I had forgotten how to…that realization, that me, my family, my life, my neighborhood, was vastly different from the rest of the world and the way people viewed us was bad?  That had a very, very profound effect on me.  He rolled with it and shrugged.  Me?  I got mad.  Very, very mad.

So, as fate would have it, and for reasons I ain’t gettin’ into here, me and my family?  We ended up moving to FL.  Much bigger house, first one my folks ever owned, bought real cheap because the previous owners?  Double murder suicide.  The room that would be mine was the one where the suicide happened….dude offed his wife and sister in law in the guest bedroom then did himself in by the closet of my room.  And we got to clean that shit up.  That sorta…does something to you, I think.  But for me, FL was a new start; new not quite so trashy neighborhood, nicer (once it was “fixed up”, in countless ways) house, more multi-cultural, all that…and I was pissed off and mad about it.  I actually, since it was a new start, and people did not know how it had been, started to work in school. Got better grades.  Made friends.  Fought less.  Made it to seventeen without being dead, a junkie, or in prison.  Or even knocked up and married to a wife beater.  But I still had a lot of hate, a hate on for people who disdained people who came up like me, just because.  I still didn’t have money, a car,  the right clothes, (a dentist), and all that shit other people had.  Add that to plain old teenage angst and bullshit? Uhh, yeah….So sure enough, I did some crazy shit…went places I shouldn’t have, hung out with people I shouldn’t have, did shit I shouldn’t have….because as truth had it, I did not give a shit about anything other than proving “those people” wrong, or right depending on my often fluxing teenaged moods .  I had a 4.0 by age 16, I also felt no compunction about breaking already crooked fingers on someones face for calling me various names, white trash among them.  And then I noticed something….

The rich kids? The really rich kids in my school?  They were JUST as fucked up as us poor kids were.  They had more shit, and could afford better drugs, and could do crazier things like jet to the islands for spring break, but they were JUST as off, for different reasons, as myself and other kids like me were.  The girls weren’t as overtly violent or hostile, but they still wanted to die, a little bit.  They’d  get drunk and drugged up and do anyone who looked at ’em like they were pretty.  They’d puke to stay skinny.  They’d cut themselves up so daddy would pay attention.  They’d fuck bad boys so Mommy would notice them and tell ’em they deserved better.  They’d crash their sweet 16 BMW’s because they had no appreciation for work.  They’d pick fights with girls like me, and they’d pick fights with boys like me and expect whoever had fucked them last would step in to save them.  Which, I will say, having been in a row or twelve in my time with males, I never once believed, and still don’t today, that if you raise your fist in anger to a male that he won’t hit you back.  Me and mine, we felt like we had to fight and fuck up because, well, we had to or were destined too…I never got why they felt that had to.  I mean, after all, every time they did, the expensive lawyer or expensive rehab place or whatever would sweep in and save ’em.  Johnny with Cash got a DUI at 19?  It never fucked up his chance for college.  Danny with the Cash date raped a girl at 16? Same story.   Seventeen year old Debbie with the High Income Parents? She could be shooting smack between her toes and hit the nice facility and she was “at an elite modeling camp”,  Tara , at 18, with the trust fund who got knocked up?  She had received early admission to college!  The rules were different…but these rich kids had a hate on too.  They hated being…bored.  They hated being….saved.  Shit they had been able to count on, shit I would have loved to have, they hated.  And shit that I had…the friends in low places and crooked fingers, teeth and grit?  They wanted.  But most of all, a lot of em?  They seemed to envy my drive, drive that I had because I had it, and not because my parents TOLD me I’d have it.  And I envied them cause when they went home, they knew there would be food on the table and the power would be on and if they got sick, they would be able to go to a doctor.  And well, when they felt like slumming, I was good enough, but otherwise?  Well, I never once got invited to the big nice house or birthday party of a fellow girl jock I told was pretty and she did not need to puke to be that way and her boyfriend was an ass for hitting her and I’d arrange (and did) to have his ass kicked.  Chips are  down?  You went to kids like me.  Life was good, we did not exist.  Hell, I got the distinct honor of being the girl guys dated not because I would put out, but because *I* would piss off their parents….

But sure enough, that odd drive of mine sent me to college.  I was, in my family, the Great White (trash) Hope.  Finished High School with the 4.0, the scholarship, the whole fuckin’ shit, right down to the bad teeth and crooked fingers.  First one of my Entire Family to Make it to the Four Year Show, with honors.  And that is where I really saw it…rich kids with everything who wanted oblivion, and they all managed to find kids like me who had kissed oblivion and had its phone number.   Drugs, Booze, Sex, Low life folk, they wanted it all….they wanted the dirt.  And a lot of them, they didn’t care if it killed them. They’d fight, they’d get alcohol poisoning,  they’d O.D. and fuck anyone and they always knew Someone Would Save Them.  But I honestly think, half the time they didn’t want anyone to.   They’d think it was cool that I HAD to work two jobs they’d NEVER do, stripping and painting the outside of houses, and sometimes a third, takin’ tickets at the local movie theater, just to put a dent in my bills.  It was…edgy.  The fact I took speed to get shit done 22 hours a day and they took it for fun and I knew where to get it….that showed me a whole lot…

Kids like me?  We wanted to die a little bit because hey, it would make shit easier.  Less financial strain on our families, less pain, less being used and mocked and treated like circus freaks and oh so convenient.  Odd enough, most of us are too mean, hard, broken and yep, determined to die.  Bored American Nobility?  Hell, they wanted to die because they were….bored.  And their rat race is way worse and its one not any of ’em, male or female, can ever win.  I may envy them to this day for some shit…but I also kinda pity ’em for that.  And odd enough?  Poor kids can’t ever trust anyone cause they never know who is real and merely likes them for them.  Rich kids?  Same thing.  And that is enough to make anyone want to die a little bit.

But if you bet  for one fuckin’ second I have ever forgotten who I am, what I have seen, what I have lived, what I know, and who I am?  You better be ready to pass over a pair of snake skin boots.  After all, I lived, even if I did wanna die, just a little bit.   But you know, I swore to myself, after my second grade teacher told me I’d be a junkie, dead, or in prison, that after I got that goddamn degree I was gonna go back to Denver, find her, and put her in the ER after I showed her the piece of paper.  I didn’t.  And not just because I fear prison, but because I am a better person than that.  She might have even deserved it…but maybe she too, just wanted to die a little bit.

(One Crackers Humble Opinion)

Okay, I am sure this seems all ironic and hypocritical and all those good things since I am ranting endlessly about how one should not rag mercilessly upon Hillbillies, Hicks, Rednecks and White Trash (henceforth HHRWT), but face it, to some degree ragging on those different from one’s self is natural, and besides, hipsters are sooo coool they wouldn’t even care if some beneath them HHRWT was ragging on ’em anyway, right?  And I won’t be completely merciless…or maybe I will, not sure yet.  I do also realize that there are plenty of folk who already rag on hipsters.  Why yes, they do take their fair share of picking on, but often times, unlike HHRWT, the reasons they get picked on are largely within their control.  And believe it or not, Hipsters and HHRWT do occasionally have a few things in common: namely tattoos, cheap beer, and looking like they just rolled out of bed regardless of the hour.  Now, tattoos are a universal right for all humans in my opinion.  However, HHRWT drink cheap beer because it is cheap.  Hipsters do it because it’s cool, and even pay premium beer prices for it!  Also, you will generally find that HHRWT-when they look like they just rolled out of bed in the morning- rumpled clothes, messy hair, scruff on the men and screwed up make up on the women, its because they have just in fact rolled out of bed, regardless of the hour of the day.  Hipsters, males and females alike, will actually spend hours and exert amazing attention to detail to get that “I spent no time and put no effort into ‘This Look’  look”.  It’s amazing really.  I can look hungover and dishevelled real easy, so it stuns me when people put a whole lotta time and effort into it, and hipsters sure do!

Now, aside from the effort put into the no effort look, there are several other things I have found to be distinctive traits amid the Hipsters of the World.  They like bags.  Often ugly yet expensive bags, and carry them around almost constantly.  The men and the women.  Now, I know non-hipsters who do this too, but usually the bags are smaller and much cheaper, or not bags at all, but rather tool kits or tackle boxes.  Oh, and the occasional gun case.  Often in the bags, one finds an odd assortment of stuff, from cell phones to some off beat book of poetry to string to art supplies.  But yeah, sure enough, Hipsters love their bags.  They also dig skinny jeans, once again, men and women alike.  Those tight little things with low waists and narrow legs and shit that makes me wonder what the heck they would do if they got into a fight or had to run away from one.  Hipsters also tend to be big into music, but it often doesn’t matter if it is good music or not, so long as no one else has heard of it, and the second other people start to like it, its not cool anymore, or well, the hipster is cooler because they heard it first.  That attitude also applies to film.  They like floppy hair, like hair in the eyes at all times looks like it would drive me utterly crazy cause It’s Touching My EYES kinda hang in the face.  And mustaches, little  thin ones, a lot of hispter dudes have and like those…oh, and tend to blame HHRWT for making goatees uncool.  I  find it ironic that they tend to think they are ironic and pretend/put on this whole jaded or bitter  facade thingy because its cool, when in truth, a whole lot of ’em have never seen any sorta shit that should ever lead them to that sorta jaded/bitterness.  Then they bluster in that cool hip way about how a lot of folk who do actually have reasons to be jaded or bitter yet take it stoic or put a humor spin on it are “the real”  poseurs.   (Real poseurs, hahaahah). I have run across a few who find art made from human waste or bodily fluids-no matter how bad the art is- good, and think anyone who photographs a fucked up human body is edgy…yet none who have ever actually worked in the fields of medical examination, funeral homes, or crime scene clean up.   They are all about the liberal arts, tend to be iconoclastic towards anything that isn’t theirs- but tearing shit down takes sooo much effort- and are often very concerned with social issues…but I have yet to see one at any volunteer gig I’ve ever done.    They will rag on people who shop at Walmart, yet I wonder how many of ’em are wandering around in “cool shit” they found in a thrift store that has been donated by some HHRWT- who bought it at Walmart.  They are enviro-friendly and many are vegan-non-gluten-skinny folk, who like…PBR.   Some assume basic manners, like saying excuse me after burping or farting, are social constructs for other humans and they need not engage in such oppressive behaviors.    Oh, and I know for a fact that some of them like the idea of slumming in dive bars, so long as it is a “nice” dive bar in a not really dive-y area, because I made the mistake of taking a crew of people that included a few hipster girls who said they wanted to go to a dive bar to a REAL dive bar in a not fake dive neighborhood and they were NOT happy with me.   I guess the actual sawdust on the floor was more than they were expecting….we ain’t been drinkin’ together since…

…So yes, as  you can  see, there are plenty of reasons I can find to rag on hipsters, but, let’s get down to it:  The One Thing any HHRWT is going to take in consideration when it comes to choosing company to keep…who do you want on your side in a fight?  Or more specifically, if one is choosing between HHRWT or a Hipster, who do you want on your side in a fight?  Well…lets ponder that.  I want you to close your eyes and imagine, perhaps after drinking too much cheap beer with either sort, trouble happens.  Its not your fault, or maybe it is, but yep, for some reason, from Bad Moon to Bad Mood, there is gonna be a rumble.  You look around, and you have a few choices in who you can grab to have your back, or better yet, step in front of you, so who do you pick?

To your left, you have this guy.  To your right, this other guy.  See, first thing I note is actual muscle tone, which hey, muscles are handy in a fight.  Second thing?  Foot wear.  Boots are always good in a fight.  Also, you know, with the redneck guy there?  No one is gonna be able to choke him to death with his own bag strap, he obviously doesn’t mind getting dirty, and well, prolly a little crazy, just judging from his recreational activity there.   Which one do you choose?  Hell, I know who I’d be pickin’, and I sure as heck know who I’d be more likely to wanna share a victory beer with, but that’s just me.  Which guy do you want helping you escape an ass-kicking?

But lets say that there are no dudes even to help you out here, hey, gender inclusiveness for the win here at my house, so yeah, no dudes around to help you out in this fight you’ve suddenly found yourself in the middle of, so you have to go with a female as your tag-team partner.  So, realizing there are no dudes and you have to go with a gal in this horrible affair, you once again look around and your choices are once again on the left and right.  Pick quick, cause you know, getting punched in the kidney hurts a lot.  Now see, there is a level once again of practical attire I seek when attempting to avoid an ass stomping.  Now sure enough, both these gals are in flats, but for some reason, I know, no question, who I am gonna grab in case of an emergency in a rumble if these are my choices.   I mean, the one gal, she’s not gonna wanna ruin, bleed on, or get that dress torn off, it prolly cost more than I make in a month after all, and well, glasses.  Always sucks to have those broken in a fight, and once again, the fear of bag strap strangulation.  That other woman there?  Far more practical clothing and obviously, she’s not afraid to kill shit.  So yep, I’d be takin’ my camo-wearing sister there, how about y’all?  Shoot, in fact, I pick her over the dude with the bag, frankly.  How about you?

Now, this is the point where my previous possible promise of mercy may fall short.  As you have perhaps guessed from this post and others around here, I am not over all a huge fan of hipsters, especially those who make fun of HHRWT.  And I am really, really not a fan of hipster feminist bloggers who act like class does not exist unless it suits them at the moment, and even amid those hipster feminist bloggers -there is one I dislike above all others I am familiar with, one who really can dish it out but not take it, ignores class when it suits them to do so, and endlessly pick on HHRWT because, well, its okay to do that.  A gal who has ragged, as a hipster feminist big time blogger and all, on everything to gals with fake tits to those who pose in playboy to those who are not young and cute and perky and such, and then has the nerve to get upset and huffy when people of the sort whom she rags on get pissed about it, and that gal?  Well, she might be named Amanda….so I ask you people, when in a mythical bar fight and all, and you got two choices, one a Hipster Big Time Feminist Bloggy Blogger with awesome creds who is just sooo smart and funny…and the other a mean little asshole of the HHRWT vareity.  Remember, a theoretical asskicking is on the line here….

Eh, I go with the cracker in the black cowboy hat and camo pants personally, cause well, I go with her every day and all, and well, she wears boots instead of sandals…and plus, cool shirt.  But yeah, I know who I pick for that sorta thing, you know, the sorta deal where you gotta know who has your back and will keep an eye out and stand up for you and defend ya and such- things that are far more important than lookin’ like you spent no effort and music and what’s art and what ain’t?   Sure as shit, I go with HHRWT, ’cause even if you do pick on them or mock them, they just might lend you a hand because you needed it or asked.  Hell, it’s in their nature.  It kinda has to be.

A Hipster?  Hell, not sure I would ever trust one to do that, have my back or care more about someone getting their ass stomped than their cool creds or clothes. I’m not sure its in their nature at all.  And that reason above all is why Hipsters should be targets for disdain before HHRWT.  We care about who and what we care about, even if it ain’t cool.

So, I was loungin’ in my modern den of inequity (firearms & liquor welcome!) furrowing my crooked eyebrows and cursin’ the government for makin’ cold meds that contain pseudoephedrine behind the counter, one box per customer and requiring of ID and leaving of address…because I actually have a goddamn cold, people…so being me I made someone else buy ‘em for me.  After all, with my burn scar, sketchy tattoos and such I don’t wanna be seen, let alone documented, buying shit that oh, one might use for the production of crank, and I came to a wildly profound realization:

Y’all are gonna be in for a real shocker here:

I am one pissed off, burned out, angry, disappointed and bitter gal-which you all knew already I reckon, but then I got to thinking about the why for of that- aside from just being wired that way and predisposed to it- and truth is, much of my…ahem…loathing of my fellow human, regardless of race, nationality, gender, sexuality, or religion…comes about from what many people would consider little nit picks but they really aren’t, and in my most recent and amazingly laughable and frustrating trip around blogland, I have come to the conclusion that there is shit that I figure needs discussing and no one else out there, not the big shiny blogs, not the hipster feminist blogs, not the cool kids smarter, better, richer and worldlier than you blogs, not the males dealing with gender stereotype blogs, are gonna do it.  So I guess I  have to.

And I can almost promise a lot of the shit I’m gonna say?  Well a lot of those who read here aren’t gonna like it.  But, interestingly enough, I got an email today from a fellow blogger who said she and another blogger familiar with me were discussing me and my blogging, and what kept them coming back was that even if they did not agree with me, or if I pissed ‘em off, or I was caustic and hostile or whatever the fuck other charming thing I might be… I was honest, called it like I saw it, remained consistent, and did not alter or change my views like some wishy-washy dish rag lookin’ to win a popularity contest.  And you know what?  They’re right.  Besides, I ain’t never won a popularity contest in my life and I reckon I am not about to start now. The simple fact is, I don’t much give a fuck if people agree with me or not, because you know-sometimes I am just right and like it or not, folk are gonna have to suck that up and deal with it. Like it or not.  I am not afraid to call it like I see it, so I will.  And I am not afraid to say shit other people won’t and in truth, I am sick to death of pansy ass whiners who dodge any topic or issue that is hard to deal with or unpopular and won’t take a fuckin’ stand because it might tarnish their gold plated liberal creds.  I am even sicker of folk statin’ shit like it is word one handed down from some omnipotent being and utter fact then refusing to be challenged on it.   I see so much holier than thou gender is bunk feministy uber academia liberalese wanna be genius bullshit out there that is missing so many basics it just makes me wanna puke…so fuck it.  I am done.  Done bein’ nice and civil and sugar coating shit.  Done with not challenging the way people think and see shit.  Hell, apparently I had a knack for that back at the old joint, so let’s see if I can kick folk in the grey matter with a verbal steel toed boot here.  I am done with makin’ shit easy and  the rest of that crap.  If people don’t want to think, they can go elsewhere, it’s that simple.  So, let’s get to it people.  Let’s get to the dirty business  that ain’t easy and popular, and lets start with the biggest Elephant in The Room: Class.

I hear you now, “here she goes again” but guess what?  Class is the one thing missing from just about every fucking discussion on every goddamn thing out there. People love to discuss and debate race and gender and sexuality and all those things but class?  Oh no, we can’t touch that one with a ten foot fuckin’ pole, at least not with any seriousness, and you wanna know why?  Because classism is a dirty, dirty topic for dirty, dirty people and holy shit, it just don’t affect women, or people of color, it can affect….anyone, and everyone, including…white folk, and…yep, white dudes!  And they are eeeevil, so everyone just brushes class and classism under the rug and leaves it pretty much out of any discussion about anything and by doing so manage to make themselves look like self righteous fools who believe in fairies. unicorns and that everyone out there has dreams of sugar plumbs and PhD’s and can afford one or both of them. 

Well, here is a little reality and hardline for ya, folks.  Class can and does affect people just as much as race, or gender, or sexuality or any one of those other things people love to discuss.  Just like other so called advantages in life, being of, from, or in a higher class strata makes life easier for you, and just like other disadvantages in life, being of, from, or in a lower class strata can make life harder for you, and all the shit that goes with it- all of it- can and often does erase other advantages lower class people have in life.  Point blank, right there, between the eyes.  If people think you’re trash, they don’t much care what color you are, what god you worship, what’s between your legs or who you prefer fucking.  They simply disdain you, regardless of any other adjective that falls before the word trash.

And how do I know this?  Well, I know it, just like I know the sun rises in the morning and oceans have tides and the V8, enviro-friendly or not, kicks ass, because I have seen it with my own eyes.  I know from that great bastard of a teacher: experience.  The truth of that has been shown to me, again and again and again, and like anyone, I find proof in repeated case studies and experiments and via facts in evidence.  And even amid the low class, there is one group, a sordid, unsavory subset worthy of nothing but contempt, mocking and disdain, and that group is low class white folk.  White trash.  The lowest of the low.  The last bastion of acceptable hatred, the remaining dregs of human scum it is sporting to make fun of, the one group of subhuman filth the New, Modern, PC World reckons it is okay to rag on; without shame, guilt, or repercussion.  Hell, its funny to pick on those sorts, all in good fun and edgy and shit.  Hillbillies, Hicks, Rednecks, Trailer Park Trash, White Folk of a low socio-economic stations, they are fair game, the men and the women alike, and you can see these pariahs lambasted in everything from high brow indy theater to kids cartoons, and its all A-Okay.  Some of the old Looney Toon’s episodes have been locked away forever because of their insulting racial connotations, but flip on Nickelodeon and sure enough, you will see parodies of poor white folk everywhere.  It’s okay to pick on them-even in front of children, some of whom may be “those people”.  Why?

Well, they are…gasp…white folk.  And white folk, well, you know, they are supposed to have it all: all that privilege and power and money, nice things and good educations and the best things in life because well, they are white folk.  If they are white and blue collar or even worse-poor, well shit, they must have…done something wrong.  Be off somehow.  Fucked up.  They must be…well, inbred or dumb or lazy.  They must be drunks or junkies or the products of poor breeding.  Or Irish.  They, those super privileged above all white people-especially the male ones- they are supposed to, by legend and the annals of the Oppression Olympics and by sheer force and determination, have it all.  The White Collar I Won the Game American Dream on a Silver Platter: a quiche (fixed by a domestic) in every oven, a BMW in every garage, a double mochachino in every hand, perfect partners and 2.2 children, headed for Harvard!  White people are…special and lucky and rule the world right?  So if they don’t manage to oh, have the right house in the right neighborhood with the right look and all that right stuff white people are fabled to have…well, then there must be something wrong with those under-achieving loathsome scum.  They must be deeply flawed.  If they live in crap neighborhoods in crap houses (or trailers) with crap jobs and crap lives and problems, well, they obviously failed at winning the white privilege game and thus they are: trash.  Go ahead and rag on them, because even with all that white advantage (especially the dudes) they still managed to turn their lives into a giant shit sandwich and they deserve it.  They have weird ways and don’t fit in with the little white li(f)e and aren’t special.  They, more than any other remaining group of people, are fair game for anyone and anything and no hit is below the belt.  Hillbillies and Hicks and Rednecks and White Trash are the perpetrators of hate speech and hate crimes, right?  They are never on the receiving end, right?

Bullshit.  Turn on your television, or radio, or go to a movie, or read a book, or look at a newspaper, or hell, think of every joke about West Virginia, Alabama, Ohio, Georgia, Nebraska, Wyoming or Montana you have ever heard.  If you actually want me to cite specific examples, I can and will do so…I am a bit of a stickler for that.  And as the New American Nightmare, a Hick who not only likes guns, but has college degrees, I will say this: Everywhere I look -when people are writing about power, or politics, or gender, or feminism, or the sex industry, or just about any other fucking subject on the face of the earth they almost always leave class out of it, and they avoid talking about classism and its affects on white people like a rat with a broken leg would avoid a starving rattlesnake.  No one discusses this shit in depth. No one wants to be “that guy”.  It is the great white elephant in the room. 

That fuckin’ elephant is lookin’ at me.  I guess I am “that guy”. It’s part of the reason I am in fact one pissed off, burned out, angry, disappointed and bitter gal.  And sure as shit, I am just getting started…

Coming Soon: “We as a Society Seek to Help our Most Disadvantaged Citizens – If they Look The Part”, “Modern Feminism is for Women who don’t Really Have to Work for a Living: A Personal Tale”,  “Why Hipsters Should Replace Hillbillies, Rednecks and White Trash as Acceptable Humans for Mocking” and “Poor White Kids & Bored American Nobility- They all Just Wanna Die a Little Bit”  (not necessarily in that order)

*and yeah, totally love my 2 am with a cold self portrait!

a buncha goddamn fascists…

So, being a fan of the ink and all, I have been pondering a lot of new ink lately.  I do still have skin after all, and you know, because it really is fitting, I was pondering oh…that there design sitting right here on the post.  And NOT even as a political statement, but because, well, yeah.  It’s very me really.  And I like it.  And it was woo, me angry with a pen and a piece of paper made.  BUT, you see, apparently, that would be a very, very bad idea.  Never mind I vote and pay taxes and while I might look like one of those spooky backwoods militia types I’m not actually, and well, hell, apparently I am already fucked.  Why, you might ask, am I possibily already fucked?  Well, apparently the FBI has been going around to various tattoo parlors askin’ questions and passing out flyers and encouraging tattoo artists to “help out” against terrorism.  In short, they are askin’ these folks to report to the FBI when folk who look odd, are maybe pissed off at the government, or are getting “questionable” ink come in to get tattooed.  Oh yeah, and if they smell kinda chemical or have burn scars and bright colored stains on their clothes…definately rat out those fuckers- cause those bastards/bitches are prolly buildin’ bombs.  Hell, read the shit for yerself!

Thusly, I repeat, I am fucked.  Not only do I dress like a scary redneck, I do often stink chemical and have One Hell of a Burn Scar.  Oh yeah, and since I paint and shit a lot, uh, stains of many colors on much of my shit.  Never mind I’ve never built a bomb in my life…I dress like a spooky militia person, burn scar, stains on my shit, sometimes stink like chemicals,  already have some fuckin’ wierd tattoos…dude, Watch List Time for Me if I get ink?

I seriously have to ask: What the Fuck? Seriously???

Last time I checked, this was the United States.  Freedom of Expression and Speech?  Freedom of Religion?  Personal Privacy a right?  It’s illegal to tap my dang phone without suspicion and a warrant, but I can be fuckin’ reported for the way I dress, what I smell like, having a scar and getting non-pretty girlie kinda angry ink?  Never mind I’ve never been in any gang in my life, never made a bomb, I do art and clean a lot so I always smell like a chem lab, happened to get burned, and like aggressive ink…this makes me and anyone like me a prospective terrorist?  Does this scream violation of personal freedoms and constitutionally insured rights to anyone else, or have I just been drinkin’ the libertarian cool-aid for too long?

Oh Fuck, I am also a Libertarian!  I am so screwed.

Now granted, pretty much any tattoo artist I know who is worth their salt would never rat out their clients, but still, this is insane.  Any dude who has ever been in prison is now a suspect.  As is anyone with a burn scar or missing limb.  Hell, how many war vets does this smack with “potential terrorist”?  How many people period does this make “sketchy” in the eyes of the almighty Fed?  And yeah its me and I am gonna say it, it kinda sounds like this move here is targeting well…white folk.  ALL gangs have tattoos they use, get together, all that, but I don’t see “be on the look out for MS-13 or Crip gang tattoos” in there anywhere, do you?  Hummm.    And hey, FBI, if you are reading this?  Most gang folk?  Of any sort?  Tend to have their ink done In House, and not at some Tattoo Parlor, and btw, a lot of tattoo parlors are-up until real recent-  Cash Only Businesses, you morons!

And the irony here is really thick to me.  I mean, this whole thing is coming about because the Fed is apparently afraid of neo-Nazi, right wing, home grown terrorism….so how do they go about “fixing it”?  By acting like right wing, home grown, somewhat Nazi-esque agents of the government?    I mean hell, back in WWII the Nazi’s made undesireables wear signs and tattoos to mark them as other and dangerous and slated for death.  Looks like we’re deciding that “by their ink you shall know them” is a good idea…wardrobe, scars, smell, attached limbs, and sense of comradery as well.

It makes me wanna puke.

I was only idly pondering getting that tattoo before.  Now its a definite.  And fuck them if they wanna call me and all the other people out there who are pretty much harmless to them terrorists for it.  This is Still the United States of America, whether they have forgotten that shit or not!



(and other assorted ramblings)

So, to start- some real life shit:  That second shot that hurt like the Devil?  It also worked.  I would say after two of ’em, my back is about 60% better than it was.  It still really hurts when it really hurts- but it really hurts less and overall is not so much of a downer.  I figure one, maybe two more, and it will prolly be as good as it gets.  The real annoyance now is- when I bother to take anything when it really hurts?  Well, painkillers do their job but damn to they cause havoc on the guts.  I prolly have lost 5-10 pounds simply because I have a hard time eating and keeping things down, or if a I do, well…er…then they don’t wanna process and leave the body as they should.  And fuck it,yeah, I am one of those people who is aware of what my body looks like and what my weight is- but kinda in the opposite way a lot of folk are.  For me, ideally in both form and function, I do best when I am between 100-110 pounds.  My normal balanced weight seems to be about 103.  I think I might, with my boots on and loaded pockets, weight about 95 right now.  Not thrilled, and being somewhat wiry and bony by nature- well, it don’t look right and I can tell. 

Aside from the physical shit, got other shit going on too.  Way more drama than I like at all.  One of my best friends, who I care about a whole lot and would do pretty much anything for- right now all we seem to do is fight and upset/piss each other off and its such a fucked up situation and its gotta change- but not sure how to pull that off and not sure if it can even be fixed/salvaged/whatever.  A couple of my other really good friends are all pissed off at eachother…one is freakin’ others out because they are a stressed out ball of misery who is personally bringing everyone down feeling wise, and via interaction with others always managing to come off wrong and like a self-important micromanaging jerk-but then very upset and complainy about situations of their own doing- and the others…either hair trigger tempers and no idea how to phrase shit civilized or soo shy they ain’t ever gonna talk about shit that is bothering ’em to anyone’s face.  Drama and angst all around which I don’t want or need at all for a variety of reasons- from I hate a lot of this drama or folk I like hurting and well, truly, these days this sorta thing truly doesn’t help me health wise at all.   But my friends are my friends, and even when I wanna choke them- I have their backs.  Scorpio Loyalty can be a damn killer.

Okay, moving on….while often it is prolly evident in a lot of what I do choose to talk about- from guns to drugs to the sex biz to a lot of other shit- I don’t ever actually blog about politics, in general or my own.  I mean, I have said I am a libertarian and I am- which hey, means automatic shitting on intentional or not….I love her to death but while reading over at Daisy’s she had a comment about thinking someone must have money and privilege and be a libertarian, and how you had to have 2 degrees to even be let in….which sure enough, I do in fact have 2 degrees (but you know, never saw a requirement for that when becoming one) and well, yeah, not so much with the other privilege or money.  In real life, a lot of my friends are right leaning or full on Republicans- many are libertarians like me, and yep, some are democrats of the most liberal sort.  My family?  ALL Republicans but ONE aunt  (none are rich however!) Here in blog land?  Most of my readers (not all, but most) well, tend to be very liberal- more so than I for certain- but yeah, sure enough, here in the Wide World of Blog; libertarians- all of ’em- get shit on and are assumed to be arrogant idiot wanna be intelligent big word using cold blooded snobs who are rolling in the good things of life and selfish as hell…

Hummm.   Cold blood maybe, and arrogant sometimes, but that other stuff?  Not so much.  Hell, I am a ton more conservative than a whole lotta people who apparently read and like this blog.  I mean heck- I don’t trust the government, or the legal system, and I think a shit ton of the social programs we have now in place to help people suck eggs and are abused by those using them.  I have a very…interesting….and prolly not popular…opinion on immigration.  I am pro-death penalty and harsher consequences for violent criminals.  And I puke every time I hear the words “gun control”.  I suspect there are folk out there who assume I have read “the Turner Diaries”  (Which I will say, I have not. )  Yet I think gay folk should be able to get married like het people, I think drugs should be legal, sex work decriminalized, I do not care what two of age and consenting people do in their bedrooms, our school system sucks, and everyone should be able to get medical care…. So yeah, being a libertarian ain’t about being an over educated wealthy better than thou snot.  It just fits best with my own personal politics, which are right leaning in some ways and very lefty in others.  And just like everyone I have reasons and experiences that have formed my thoughts on this. 

But yeah, that shit in mind there- it stuns me how So Many People will judgement call ya and think you are what you aren’t when you mention your politics.  Hell, Daisy knows I’m a cracker who, well, embraces the crackerness and is not exactly swimmin’ in the privilege and shit- but I am also a libertarian- so…eh, stereotypes piss me the fuck off in general I guess, and humans vex me.  I also don’t get judging a person solely by their politics.  Hell, two of my good friends. brothers, who grew up poor and wild in Buffalo NY have grown up and become Tea Party types- I shit you not.  Do I agree with them politically?  Uh no.  Do I still like them and enjoy their company and have fun with them- even when we do argue politics?  Hell yeah.  They are good hard working fellas who are funny and always willing to lend a hand if needed and I have known them for years….so the fact that they are heavy duty church going types who think Palin is awesome is not gonna change my overall opinion of them. 

And since I am already off on politics and humans and such, I am just gonna go ahead and say it.  Politically Correct and stuff:  SNerk.  Okay, a while back I heard some celebrity (who is a giant hypocrite) say the Last Bastion of Acceptable Making Fun of was fat people.  This is bullshit.  Yes, fat people get made fun of an it is wrong, but by in large people are becoming more sensitive to overweight people and their feelings.  Just as now it is unacceptable and can have serious ramifications to be openly racist, or anti gay, or religiously intolerant, or grossly sexist, or all of those other PC things, it is also becoming unbecoming to be fat phobic.  Tolerance of all people, in all shapes and sizes and of all colors and religions is- well, hell, turn on your TV- its a hot topic and forefront social issue.  However, there is still one Group of People it is totally good, funny, fine entertainment, edgy and cool to make fun of.  And that group is “those people” -ala my tag.  Poor white folk, hillbillies, hicks, rednecks, white trash, whatever.  It is still Totally Okay and Awesome to make fun and assume about them as often as much and as loudly as You Like.  You can hit them with everything!  Accusations of racism, low intelligence, crime, drug usage, inbreeding, violence, bad fashion sense, bad accents, low morals, lack of ambition and productivity, utter lack of character, and being a few steps behind on the evolutionary ladder.  All of that is fair game, funny, and all good in whole lot of peoples books.  People who would never, for a variety of reasons – from knowing it is wrong to fearing it would get their asses beaten- never ever ever throw out a racist epitaph, make a rude gay joke, call someone an unkind religious slur, fat bash, or any of that other stuff will still, gladly and thinking it is funny, trash on “those people”.  So, the two-face hypocrite celebrity who said this, and anyone else who agrees with her are either stupid or being willfully ignorant  (and see, it would be okay for someone to call my cracker ass ignorant, cause well, I’m one of those people!) because the simple fact is- while all other isms are unsavory and not politically correct, classism and stereotypes and hate is still totally acceptable, funny and fine- so long as it is thrown at the Right People.

So, this post comes about due to some comments here and other places out there in blog land, past and present, about ones appearance- not as in how “pretty” they are or whatever, but more in a what they telegraph by the way they dress, carry themselves, so on, so forth.  Ah yes, a topic I could post on endlessly and all that shit.

Now, true enough, I full well know that in choosing to look like I do and dress like I dress and get tattoos and stuff, out there in the real world I will get judged for it.  Whether I should or not, I will, and this is just a fact of life, and I know because I do choose to, I will be judged.  I can live with this.  I know full well that when I go out lookin’ like however, well, there are just some folk who are not gonna like it and make assumptions due to it.  That is the way of the world.  And while some aspects of my visual telegraphed image – oh, like the big fuckin’ scar on my neck- I have no control over (and yes, I have been stared at/whispered about when dressed completely normal due to that scar, by adults even)- the majority of those aspects, like my clothes or ink or whatever, I do have control over, and choose to dress/present as I do anyway.

Now me personally, I just as soon most people look at me and be like  “yeah, trouble there, not going to go near it” and you know, I have my reasons for this.  I am small, and I am female, and I dislike it immensely that due to those two things, there are people in the world who feel entitled to touch me, pat my head, give me these huge fucking bear hugs and actually pick me up without even fucking asking or loom over me because they can.  I hate that shit.  I always have, since I was a kid, and I still do, and even as an adult, well, yep, sure enough, there are fucking inconsiderate assholes out there that think it is okay to touch me, hug me, pick me up- all that shit- even though I am pretty blatant about the fact I dislike being touched.  I not only say this, but hell, when even people I know try to hug me, I stiffen up and stuff.  Hell, I shake hands and only shake hands for a damn reason- I don’t like people unless they have been invited to do so touching me. Period  Which does actually factor in to why, often, I tend to look like the lost Tremor Brother.  It keeps people the hell away from me and they will leave me alone rather than figure its okay to pick me up because I am small.  I also figure that maybe the steel toed boots and shit might indicate that if one is so hell bent on patting me on the goddamn head or something, well, then the boots served as a warning that I just might then proceed to kick them in the knee…after all, they did touch me without permission first…

At the same time however, I have personally always tried to be big on “don’t judge a book by it’s cover”, and well, I have reasons for that too.  Hell, a great majority of my friends?  They don’t dress all whacky like me and live in blast goggles and have notible amounts of ink and stuff.  They are pretty normal looking, and kinda look odd with me, and well, if I judged them by how they dressed (i.e. not like me) well then, I woulda missed out on meeting some damn fine people- and I like to think the feeling is somewhat mutual.  And truth be told, most of these normal looking folk have not often asked me to tone down my own shit- even if there have been times when they woulda probably been within their rights to do so.  But just like I’ve not judged them by their dress and style and such, well they have returned the favor.  Which hey, that is awesome.

But while I know how the world works, and that people will be judged and I think it is absurd to think they won’t be, I do find the whole thing grimly amusing.  Because ya know, the inked up biker lookin’ sort is no more or less likely to be mean or violent or whatever than, oh, the guy in the suit.  Most Criminals?  Well….there isn’t exactly a dress code, you know?  And how often do you hear people talk about seriously really real scumbags; murderers, rapists, assholes who swindle the elderly out of their retirements or bleed unsuspecting lonely people dry, and they say “Well, he/she looked so normal?”  Hell, the people who look like scumbags actually seem to provide excellent cover and distraction for actual scumbags.  I mean heck, if you are at the county fair, are you gonna be looking at the tough looking guy with the dirty jeans and shit-kicker boots and the flashy looking gal with the tattoos and crazy hair….or the average run of the mill sort who is gonna pick your pocket while you are busy staring?  Hummm.

There is obviously an upside and a downside.  I am really big on people dressing and presenting as they want to, regardless of how non-traditional or “unsavory”  it seems to others, but I also fully realize that sure enough, they will be judged for it.  What I don’t get however is how anyone, in this day and age, is dumb enough to assume you can spot the truly bad people who will harm others simply by how they look.   I mean, there are far more normal looking horrible people out there than “scummy” looking ones.  I get knee jerk reactions and that it can be hard to forget spooky hype of “the people your momma warned you about”, but how any thinking, rational human being can honestly believe that you can spot the bad sorts and  they are the ones with the Harley’s and Hot Rods with the shitkickers and tattoos is simply beyond me.  It’s not only ignorant, it’s downright…stupid.

* that said, if any of y’all ever nominate me for that stupid show what not to wear, I am gonna find ya- with a tire iron 😉

So, my LJ Buddy Stagger Lee has a post up about her adventures, as a Black Woman, in Texas…at a fast food joint, where she dared to sit down next to a little white kid while his mom was in the bathroom and ask about the video game he was playing.  Heck, Lee has lots of posts about these sorts of things, a series which she calls “Adventures in Blackness”  (which is a title I love, btw), and while reading, I started to wonder if the Wierd Looks and stuff Lee was getting were not only due to her Blackness, but her also overall non conventionality and conformity?  Because sure enough, Lee marches to her own drum….and well, frankly, we have both often wondered if we are actually TWINS, separated at birth…but like different races and totally built differently and not looking a like at all….because well, yeah, in lots of other ways?  We could totally be related. 

But yeah, I did wonder about that…because I know as a non-conventional white gal, I get looked at funny a lot.  I am a surly, inked up, scar having, not so nicely dressing sort and sure enough, if I am with a kid (relative, friends kid, so on so forth) people will take one look at me with said child and give me the “get away from them you scumbag” look more often than not- even if I am doing something like, oh, helping them get their bike outta a bush or giving ’em a bandaid or something.   So I know how it goes with people looking at ya funny due to not being what…well…folk think you should be.

BUT, add to this that Lee is Black, and it is Texas.  One, I think conventional or not, Black Women have it tougher when it comes to this sorta thing.  A White Lady sitting down and asking a little black kid about a video game?  Most folk would not bat an eye if the White Lady was, well, conventional.  Prolly would not bat an eye AS MUCH at a non conventional white lady as non conventional Black Woman….and well…TEXAS.  Which IS in many parts VERY multi-cultural, but I do think A LOT of those womenfolk down in Texas take their feminine beauty rituals and all VERY Seriously.  The Beauty Queen with the Shotgun thing?  Texas.  Totally.  So yeah, I think Lee had both being black and Not Texas Conventional factoring in when she got the weird looks….

Which of course begs questions of race, class and location.  You know, I kinda think that Lee and I, what, with our tattoos and weird hair and all, could prolly stroll down the street in LA or NYC or Chicago or lots of other places and no one would look at us oddly except, well, shes like a foot taller than me.  We could prolly be tearing apart an engine together in New Orleans or Atlanta and no one would pause to take a second look.  I also think if we were in parts of DC, Lee would not get a second glance but I sure as hell would, in Charlestown WV I wouldn’t and she would, and well, in LOTS of places the fact that she is black and I am white would not raise as much dust as, oh, ewww, look at those two WOMEN in their grease stained jeans and with all those tattoos, oh heaven for fend!!! Never mind Lee is ex Army and defended the US and is, well, in Law Enforcement Now, and never mind that I have whenever possible been the first person to help out folk simply because they needed it- fixin a tire or mowing a lawn or whatever….well, we dress funny and have tattoos and swear a lot and party hard and all that stuff.  We’re not…very ladylike. 

 So yes, I do think race absolutely has something to do with it, and I do think a non-conventional Black Gal is gonna have it worse period than a non conventional White Gal….but this other stuff fascinates me too, the class aspects, the location aspects, the what women are supposed to be like aspects, ALL that….

Eh, ponder at will.