Category: knowledge

i’ve been such a shit (g2)

I’m apparently having one of those grumpy points of my life where I’m like “fuck this, fuck that… I’ve got nothing interesting to say so I’m going to sit a corner and scowl.”

But I know that’s utter shit. Right now, I have no idea where this post is going to lead me but I suspect its like the large dam of constipated creativity I need to purge so I can move through it and access all those thousands of elements about my life and thought processes that make most people who know me wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

As I type this, I’m watching a BuzzFeed video in which a bunch of guys decide they are going to prank their co-workers by serving them sushi for lunch off their naked bodies… and all I can think of is “god, sushi sounds fucking awesome right now, I haven’t had that in a while.” and I’m not even hungry and then “why the hell am I not working there? these sound like my people.”

These are one of those days when I lack much ability in coherent thought and usually the night degenerates into Spawn and I watching various videos and making our own dialogue for the persons/animals/entities in them. Sometimes if it isn’t funny with the sound on, we just mute it and make up our own. Spawn makes a great rendition of a Jewish grandmother, even if they don’t know what that means.

Spawn’s birthday is tomorrow. I’ve taken great joy in reminding them the last couple days “did you get a good night’s sleep? really? this time, not so long ago, when you were born… and for MAAAAANY years after… I didn’t.”

This was a pointless post, and I’m not sorry.

nothing turns me off faster than christian sex talk (g2)

I don’t know why I do this to myself, but I was reading this article about Louisiana trying to find a balance between religious freedom and gay marriage. Of course, they are trying to condense both into one law…The problem I see right off is that basically it seems to say “sure we’ll let gays marry, but in turn we won’t hold anyone responsible for their actions when based on ‘religious reasons.'”

Please tell me I’m not the only one who sees the loophole for abuse here. Its not even a matter of businesses denying service to gay patrons… we’re talking the south. This is where a black man was killed by being drug behind a vehicle, not just in the 50’s… but as recently as 1998. In Mississippi (shocker) lynch mobs are still a thing… female ones… How’s that for progress in sexism?

*sigh*

This is like giving license to backwoods, inbred fuckheads to harass, assault, beat, and kill anyone else they don’t agree with for… religious reasons.

‘Religious reasons’ in the south generally boils down to some stranger believing they have the right to dictate another stranger’s preferences or choices because they deem themselves more devout than the one being judged. It also includes the one who wants to do all this dictating being bitterly offended by someone who has absolutely no fucking direct contact or influence on their personal life. Example:


Bubba-Jay, most likely first cousins with his third wife, Beulah (mother of welfare kids 5-8), both from Bumfuck, Loussippisaw for 15 generations… sit down to their TV dinners and the magic picture box and listen to a guy named Gebidiah (the G makes it look more French) in another city in Loussippisaw talk about how he and his partner of fifteen years want to be recognized in the eyes of the law by getting married.

Not God, the law. Marriage, in and of itself, is a contract… falls under tort law. Nothing more. Anything aside from this one point is mythical unicorn farts. It means nothing, Its not a religious question.

But dammit, Bubba-Jay is raging pissed about all this. Maybe he can’t read good, but he can throw down some serious “Thuh Good Book” blurbs because he’s had this shit beaten into his head since he was a baby and having to convulse out the demons and prove his purity through snake wrangling.

He probably didn’t hear it from his preacher/pastor or actually read or research any of it himself ever, but that don’t mean no never mind. He is a devout child of Gawd, his King James (the sexist bigot that he is…and just a translator, subject to um… INTERPRETATION) bible among his most prized possessions.

B-J has never been so raging mad. He feels like the sanctity of all that is healthy and precious in this world is being challenged by this loathsome thought of letting two people of the same gender, that are of legal age and sound mind, to be able to sign a damn piece of paper that says their shit is mutually owned by both of them.

Those motherfuckers.

Now how does any of this affect the daily life of Bubba-Jay?

It wouldn’t. So what does B-J fear about it so much?

Maybe Bubba-Jay, like so many others of the devout flock, feel this is a slippery slope to a world where marrying that sheep he committed an unspeakable act (or 87) with during one (or 10) especially lonely winters, might actually one day be legal.

Or even scarier, maybe Bubba-Jay is scared that gay marriage will lessen the stigma that might allow his 8-year-old, Kleetus, to be legally married off to his 27-year-old unmarried second cousin, twice-removed from his step-brother’s aunt’s side who has a really bad habit of constantly following the kid around.  In B-J’s mind, pedophilia is all the fault of gays, anything… like facts… that would tell him that most pedophiles are white males, heterosexual, many in normal relationships with normal intelligence who usually prey on members of their own family or close social circles… would just seem like homosexual propaganda. Or aliens.

You know how those aliens like to probe the fuck out of the south right?

Tinfoil hat anyone?


So let’s sum this up. if Gebidiah has never met B-J and they will likely never cross paths even though they live in the same state, in what way would G’s marriage adversely affect B-J’s life?

It wouldn’t.

It would be more beneficial to society as a whole had Bubba-Jay got his ass sterilized from the very beginning, since stupidity affects all of us. There is nothing more destructive than an ignorant, idiotic, violently and crazily obsessed person who wields religion as weapon to regulate others. But that destructive force is breeding and teaching that hate to their next batch of offspring.

There’s been no wars fought over gayness.

It’s the same with abortion. I have known, seen and understood many of the times when abortion is considered an option, though less so followed through. There was a very brief consideration of the same when it came to Spawn. It’s not a fucking easy thing to do at all and I’m glad we didn’t go through with it, but some of the bullshit videos and propaganda the religious acquaintances on my social media try to spread around are such obvious demonizations created by a group of people who are completely out of touch with how to empathize with others or understand anyone outside of their own situations. They look as out of touch with reality to me as Gwyneth Paltrow giving suggestions on being frugal and creative.

But god, I love when the religious devout, the loudmouths, the ones most assured of their own grandeur… talk sex. Just peruse the comments on that first article to understand what I mean, I undoubtedly hear it every time there is a religious argument. Sanctity, union, wholesome, traditional, grass roots….

They sound like the most boring fuckers I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

Fornicate…. what the hell is that? Sounds like something you smear on an STD.

I get they are trying to make it sound so damn holy and spiritual but all I can picture is:

Amelie
Don’t laugh, if I don’t laugh he’ll finish and
leave. Dude, really?

Or even better

Wrap it up
If you can’t find the words… find a light up sign to make your point.

I tried to find one of an equally bored man but the below is as close as I got.

So, you wanna fornicate in the sanctity of my private chamber under the blessed eyes of the Lord?

Really? That killed the mood for you? I cannot fathom why.

indiana and the anti-gay agenda (g2)

Even if you aren’t the type to watch the news (I’m not), I would imagine something has eeked in that tipped you off that Indiana is basically making it warmly welcome for businesses to be as biggoted as they want and the law cannot touch them for doing so.

Basically, a business can choose not to serve someone gay for religious reasons.

No, I didn’t stutter, go ahead and reread it if you need to, I had to. Basically, a business can express their religious views in such a way that they can choose who their clientele is based on that. So if I came in advertising I’m an atheist, they could very vocally show me the door.

This really pissed me off, I wanted the law supporting this removed, the business torn apart and sold off to a drag show specialist, etc.

There have been businesses and neighboring state legislations that are completely boycotting the state of Indiana over it. However, I think they are going about it the wrong way. It isn’t the law that’s the problem.

I remembered once I was equally pissed when state laws decided to stick their nose into local businesses and banned the usage of cigarettes in restaurants/bars. I felt it was none of the government’s business in any form what a local business wanted to allow on their own premises (don’t over-read that, legit illegal activities were not included in this thought). To me, it was out of line and a heavy-handed use of government where it should not be allowed.

I feel the same way about bans on prayer. I think its a violation of civil rights to tell someone who is religious they cannot pray in school. That’s their right and they should have the freedom to do so. If I’m not religious though, I have the right not to.

Basically, if I decided to open a bar and I wanted to allow people to smoke in it, that was my business to allow it. If someone didn’t like that, they could always go to a bar who didn’t allow smoking. That is what I call freedom of choice.

In the same point, if I open a business and decide I’m not going to serve a backwoods racist, bigoted dickhead, that should also be my business.

Which in turn, if I were a racist bigoted dickhead bakery owner and decided I wasn’t going to serve someone gay, that should also be my business.

Kind of the whole freedom of speech thing. I can totally get that seeing it from that perspective. They fully have the right to be an asshole

The nice part is that in this day and age, it won’t take too long before the community at large will find this out. The supportive family who has a gay child is probably not going to use a bakery that is vocal about their animosity to the gay community. The lesbian supplier of gluten-free and organic flours probably won’t want to contend with them either. The bisexual patisserie would probably reject them from coming to their school for further education, and would probably put the word out to their high-power, fellow people in the same industry. It’s forever going to be the only thing they will ever be known for.

This is when peer pressure, not the legal system, becomes the most effective method of changing the world. This bakery has pretty much donned themselves with the proverbial Scarlet Letter and now its the community at large’s turn in ostracizing them, hopefully even eradicating them.

If they manage to stay afloat by being supported by the few members that feel the same way they do, that’s great, it also helps to identify who else to avoid. I truly do not believe it would take terribly long before the store, and the problem, went away.

Hopefully… just hopefully, that would be the point when that little baker might sit down and wonder, “Maybe there is something wrong with how I think. Maybe the rest of the community understands something I don’t. Maybe its me who needs to change.”

Or maybe I’m just secretly too optimistic.

music, aging and openness to the new (g2)

I’m always fascinated by human development and how one generation always tends to think it had the best of things because we also happen to be dreadfully forgetful and gloss over our pasts. It explains why we get nostalgic about high school even if it was torture or you suddenly feel like opening the can of worms on an old relationship that has been dead ten years. We love our rose-colored glasses.

I’m not sure if I’m lucky in my ability to solidify a more realistic perception of my past, which would be nice considering Alzheimer’s happens to run pretty strongly in my family OR, when I’ve glossed over most of the horrible things in the past, there was just enough remaining bullshit to still make my lip curl when I think about it. Maybe I’m just a damn pessimist to the core.

But I do find myself guilty of some offenses the older generations usually do. I feel kind of smug that Gaga, Perry, Cyrus, that Hilton and Ritchie genetic waste-sacks, (insert current boy band name here – One Direction I guess?) and of course Bieber were not a bi-product of my generation. But if I think about it even momentarily, we had our own… before I was old enough to care, it was Maneudo, then there was New Kids on the Block, N’Sync and whatever the hell came between them and One Direction I guess. Let’s not even talk about Spears.

I wasn’t much interested in these people or groups, which is why it was easy for me to forget they ever existed. It’s easy for me to say I loved 80’s music… I’ve forgotten the half I didn’t like ever existed. But we had our own generational embarrassments that made the hearts of the young swoon, gush, cry, attempt suicide and assume a great deal about people none of them knew but from which they somehow expected something special for just them. My generation was the grunge era, which I still think of as a pretty epic stage for music, the aftermath I see in bands still going strong today. But then, if I listen to classic rock, I can hear their influence in grunge as well.

I was reading recently where age is a strong limiter on musical enjoyment… Meaning, as we get older, our ability to enjoy new music dwindles and our sense of nostalgia kicks in and limits us to a fixed range that we inhabit as a comfort zone. So far, I have found the opposite to be true for me.

I was very hesitant about branching out and listening to new music when I was a teen. This is back when mix-tapes were the most epic of gifts and I still have a large wooden case chock full of the things. Trading music I did freely. Buying music was another matter entirely. This is pre-Napster days and the internet wasn’t yet a thing. We didn’t even use the word “internet” for a few more years. Most of my musical input was from friends, 120 Minutes with Dave Kendall on MTV (back when the M still sometimes meant “music”) and the pawn shop near the airbase.

I was born and raised in a small backass, hick town with only limited access to big city radio stations… I think three of them: country, hip hop/rap and Top 40. I detest country. Although I had many 45’s with buckets of old school R&B (like The Temptations, Smokey Robinson, Dizzy Gillespie), rap that became popular during this era sang of violence, bitches, and crimes… it didn’t interest me. It glorified being a worthless dick. Hip Hop and much of the Top 40 sounded like it all came out of the marketing department, maybe even the same guy. Occasionally, you could hear a nugget of something good on the Top 40 one, but you had to schedule wisely and listen to tons of crap to hear 5 minutes of interesting. The first time I ever got to hear a single full day of college radio, I thought I would cry.

Grand thought Mtv was utter trash and did their best to limit my exposure. I was just out of the toddler stage good when I started watching Mtv and also thanks to my much older cousin I saw the very first night of Mtv. I still remember the Buggle’s “Video killed the radio star”… not much of the video now without looking for it, but the impression of this wonderfully odd tune came out of nowhere and didn’t mesh with anything I’d ever heard so far. It would take another 3 or so years for Grand to discover this channels existence, but I was hooked from that moment.

Over the years, Grand had the channel blocked, but due to a re-sequencing in the area, it was accidentally brought back. I became more careful about my sneak sessions to watch it. Martha Quinn left, reality TV was invented and Mtv moved further and further away from music. Now… well, it they still have a presence anywhere, I’m sure its rubbish.

Grand just one last time tried to proclaim the channel as pornographic trash, in a mood to fight I guess, to which I finally turned and said “you know, its your addiction to soap operas that taught me the meaning of the word ‘incest,’ I certainly never learned any of that shit on Mtv.”

The war on Mtv ended that day, but the channel was no longer worth fighting for. Only 120 Minutes during the Dave Kendall years still held any allure for me. It also marked the bulk of my musical preferences as “alternative.”

The mainstream source of music in my little shit hometown was at our…. do I even call it a mall? Large building of clusterfuck stores that should have long just chucked it in and left town. The music store in this mausoleum sold mostly the crap you could find on those three stations. Their selection was overpriced and although you could order something they didn’t have in stock, it wasn’t worth the extra charge they pushed on you to do it. I was a kid, going to school and was allowed only a limited amount of funds, no one my age could afford to shop there either unless they had some obscure under-the-table job or rich parents. I usually skipped lunch to pool the money I got for cigarettes and music. Blank cassettes in bulk were cheaper than one CD or cassette.

So where did I go to buy new material? I found a treasure trove in the place I least expected.

We had a pawn shop just outside of the air base in our town. The air base was the main reason my hometown had any sliver of culture. I like pawn, thrift and consignment shops because stuff that is old always seems to be vastly more interesting than stuff that is new. Clothes and boots were also cheap enough for the broke student.

I never expected that they would have such a huge selection of import CD’s, I can only guess from airmen moving in and out of the area and cleaning out to minimize their baggage. I found punk, R&B, goth, death rock, grunge, blues… if you didn’t hear it on our shit radio stations, it was likely here. And all so much more in my budget… and probably not a lot of competition for the selection. I still only bought what I knew what I would like. I looked longingly at many many more but I was very hesitant about spending even a dollar more for something I didn’t know.

These days, Spawn and I go down to the local record store where I drool over the LP’s while buying CD’s. I like touching the liner art, dammit. I also like that I’m helping to keep open a place that seemed like heaven to me when I was a kid. I ask them for any damn thing I want and they make it happen. I go in there for one or two things, I come out with fifteen. Spawn and I listen to each in the car, then I rip every one of them and add it to my cloud music library and the CD’s get packed up and stored. The first time I set up an account on Pandora, I thought I was in heaven. Feeding it song after song after song that I loved and having it pop things at me it thought I would like based on the genetic makeup of the songs I was feeding it. I would select whether I liked or hated it and it would play even better ones. It was SO bloody accurate and didn’t clog my list with just the artists I mentioned, in fact it would maybe play one song by each and then move off into similiar waters.

My lists of requests with my music shop steadily grew. I actually had to ban myself from Pandora for a while.

These days, I have my favorite bands (probably about thirty or more, and they rotate depending on mood, don’t ask… several hundred or more that I just enjoy) but I also am more likely to stop by my favorite store and say “hey, heard of x band, do you have any? If not, can you get any? Any two will be fine, your choice.” and they do it… and they like it because they know I enjoy that. They are just that good, so that makes me happier to spend copious amounts of my paycheck there. Plus, I can finally afford it.

I pirated a lot when the internet became a great source for this. I pirated because I really couldn’t afford it at the time. To me, it was nothing worse that when you borrowed an album from a friend and made a copy. It’s just how we did things then. Somewhere down the line, we knew our little tapes weren’t going to last and at some point, love it enough, we would have to break down and buy it. That was fine though. So usually in the mix of all the new stuff I get every time I make my way to my little music store, I generally nab one or two of the ones I’d pirated all those years to make good on that long term loaner. These days, I have an account not only with Pandora, but Spotify, Grooveshark, last.fm, even NPR.

I cannot even fathom the kind of childhood I might have had if these were within my grasp back then. I was cut off from all of this in my little podunk town. Even Mtv staying as a music television channel would have kept my world so much more open than it had been, that used to be their whole point.

As much as technology can be a scary thing, I cannot imagine being cut off like that again. It would mentally kill me. As for the nostalgia, I have some of that. There are a great many of my memories tied to the music I listened to, but I spend a great many more wanting to experience something different, and often getting overwhelmed by the sheer amount I have yet to still discover. I feel rushed and sometimes think I don’t have enough time or attention left to fully appreciate some of the wonderful things I find.

My pessimistic side would say I’m still searching for the range of memories I deem as the most ideal and/or pleasant and then I will lose this interest and only replay just the music that reengages just those memories in my head for the rest of my life.

But I would prefer to think, at this age, I’m just finding the soundtrack ideal for this current period of time, it just changes when its ready to evolve. As long as life itself changes and we change with it, we have to change the soundtracks too, reuse is not allowed. Pull out an old tune to hit Replay on the memory every once in a while, but don’t drown in it trying to relive it either. Whatever we thought was so good about it, probably isn’t true.

What new things have you discovered lately?

weakness as strength and shoving it right in your face (g2)

The above video is by Emilie Autumn. I’ve never heard of this musician before my kid ended up with a custom Sim on their video game (Sims 3) called the same which they had downloaded just because of the unique look of her. After a bit of googling, I found out she is a musician and dug them up on Spotify. Through my googling I found out she was a survivor of abuse, rape and assault, and had a pretty rough case of bipolar disorder which included auditory hallucinations. She apparently can visualize written music because of coping mechanisms she developed to keep the hallucinations under control.

I’m in a very musically submersive mood lately. Not that I’m not always listening to something, but sometimes I will drown in it. This is apparently one of those times.

My first impression of her music was Amanda Fucking Palmer had a lovechild with Maggie Estep in a Victorian Cabaret, her songs were riddled with storyline and tongue in cheek blasting on a lot of women’s issues as well as society’s complete inability to deal with mental health. Through listening to her latest album, which you can hear on Spotify at least, I realized just how right she was and my god, how beautiful she puts it out there and serves it to us, all the while never backing down from being just as shocking and blunt as she wants to be.

Amanda Palmer is a survivor of past assault… Siouxsie Sioux too. These people too and these (from WordPress, no less), and here’s a list of over a hundred songs that relate to abuse, assault and/or rape. And these are just the famous ones, I would not doubt if everyone knows of at least 5 other people who have been victims of some type of abuse/assault, or possibly were yourselves.

Why? What the hell is wrong with people?

I think we have all come to understand that rape is not about sex, but about power. I’ve never understood why there was so much fear of (mostly) women that rape was the main go-to men used against them. I’m not going to get into the politics of female-on-male rape, but I would like to point out that men and women both have reflex biological reactions to tactile stimuli, none of which indicates “consent.” If we didn’t have these responses, sex would not be very pleasant for the times we do consent. Not even if someone was walking down the street completely naked are they “asking for it,” and if a victim is acting “too normal” its probably because, like most us, we want our lives back to where they were before trauma.

But what if you have a mental disability or behavioral disability that makes it difficult for you to interact with others or communicate fully? If you don’t tell those close to you, they probably won’t be close for very long, but what about work and or dating relationships? If you do tell them, do you risk the chance they might objectify you and feel that anything you say has no value since you’re “crazy”?

I already have an epic truckload of issues with the mental health field and its current level of capability. I also have a problem with the level of stigma that is created in which people are only defined by their most prominent weakness. “Oh they were depressed… that’s definitely why they killed their entire family, case closed.” I don’t know about you but when I am in the height of my depression, I can barely come off the couch. It’s usually my overall apathy that tells me I need to get my meds adjusted.

I think the mental health field is about the same level as, historically, the medical field was when leeches and bloodletting were the main go-to for… well, everything. Combined with our bad habit of objectifying someone with a special hurdle in the russian roulette that is genetics & heavy dose of environment, you have a recipe for a lot of problems with assault and rape. Who is going to believe the freak, right?

Personally, the kind of person who would think like that, who would take advantage of that type of situation… they need the special needle…quickly. You’d euthanize a rabid dog, I find no difference here… except the dog couldn’t help it, we just can’t cure it. Actually, can we keep the dog and just eliminate the twisted as fuck human?

The sad part is proving it. The only ones they victimize are the ones who long stopped bothering to say anything because no one listens anyway, their words have no merit. Makes us pretty fucked up as a society, doesn’t it?

But Emilie drags her pain and her weaknesses and everything ever done to her right in the middle of the room and makes you look at it, refuses to let you turn away and makes a bitter joke of it to make you face it and see it all for the truth behind the lies. She, like Amanda and Siouxsie wear their past like armor and use it to toss a giant middle finger at anyone who thinks they should behave “more like a victim” to be credible.

It reminds us the problem doesn’t lie with disability or trauma. It lies with our treatment of those who have suffered, those who have a disability and most especially those who have dealt with both… we all matter, no matter what your unique color or flavor may be, we are humans, the most complex of animals, we just need to stop behaving otherwise.

kids and music these days… (g2)

Ok, so I was browsing through Twitter because I obviously like shitting all over my day and I keep seeing this recurring theme of younger fans who seem to be completely oblivious to the world of music outside of their one fanboy/girl obsession. My perusing leads me to articles like the one linked to the image below.

These Kanye West Fans Don't Know Who Paul McCartney Is, Which Means All of Society Is Doomed
Paul McCartney and some other dude

Sir Paul McCartney deigned to grace Kanye (isn’t he the twat who now twice got up during someone else’s acceptance speech to tell the audience someone else deserved it?) with his presence for a collaborative piece and apparently the twat’s fans have never heard of the great Sir. Some of the tweets were much like:

“I don’t know who Paul McCartney is, but Kanye is going to give this man a career w/ this new song!!”

Really? A man whose success is like trying to catch another universe for someone at the level of twat-K and has spanned for generations and you dare to compare the two as though someone this asinine could surpass him?

I don’t even give a crap whether this group of people LIKES The Beatles, but they should at least fucking know who they are.

Then, at another period of time I saw a truckload of Lana del Rey’s fanquad attacking Kim’s Gordon’s twitter feed with heinous shit of what she could go do to herself, over a quote in Gordon’s book that said about del Rey:

“Today we have someone like Lana Del Rey, who doesn’t even know what feminism is, who believes women can do whatever they want, which, in her world, tilts toward self-destruction, whether it’s sleeping with gross old men or getting gang raped by bikers. Equal pay and equal rights would be nice. Naturally, it’s just a persona. If she really truly believes it’s beautiful when young musicians go out on a hot flame of drugs and depression, why doesn’t she just off herself?”

Personally, so the fuck what? Last I checked Freedom of Speech is a thing and you can disagree all you want, but if the disagreement turns into harassment and terror because you seriously cannot handle someone who thinks differently than you do, you need to grow the fuck up.

I enjoy the work of both musicians. Kim is a living legend and again, even if you don’t like anything every produced by Sonic Youth, you should at least know who the fuck they are. They are our history. The fans frothed at the mouth about treating “poor Lana” so harshly, but this is just one blurb in many that Lana has given interviewers, either via ignorance, immaturity or stupidity:

Interviewer: Is early death glamorous?

“I don’t know. Ummm, yeah.”

Interviewer: Don’t say that

“I do! I don’t want to have to keep doing this. But I am.

Interviewer: Do what? Make Music?

“Everything. That’s just how I feel. If it wasn’t that way, then I wouldn’t say it. I would be scared if I knew [death] was coming, but …”

There really isn’t a whole lot of interpretation to any of this, but I read multiples posts about how “but Lana  meant…” and they all make it their own poetic interpretation of what she said, some about living for the moment, or to the fullest. But they all failed to realize one thing.

You don’t know them. Musicians you fangasm about aren’t dolls on which to project your own perception of who they are, and they will never live up to it. They aren’t your friends, they don’t owe you anything, they have no obligation to be who you want them to be and if they were told they could make a fortune by tossing your ass off a cliff, they might actually do it.

Hell, considering some of these fans in particular, I might do it… for free.

George… the Clinton I would have liked to see in office.

I would be pissed too if I heard an interview like that. I grew up in the grunge era and saw a lot of excellent musicians die. There is nothing glamorous about it. The generation before me and before them and so on also saw the loss of supremely excellent musicians who died too young, ones we still honor today for the legend they left behind and the music we still have to remember them. It does not mean its something to romanticize.

Of course from my generation, the one that sticks out probably most prominently is Kurt Cobain. He had a really bleak point and was successful in taking his own life, leaving behind his very young daughter. There is nothing cool or romantic about that, a sentiment shared by Kurt’s daughter, who also was very vocal about del Rey’s stupid ass remarks. Which she nailed well with:

“I’ll never know my father because he died young & it becomes a desirable feat because ppl like u think it’s ‘cool'”

but of course in the midst of all of this, they don’t know Kurt Cobain or at least are not smart enough to realize that a person named Frances Bean and shares the same last name might actually have enough relevance to say whatever the hell she wants to about the situation, a damn sight more than LDR.

And all too many of the LDR fans? So, so terribly many had no clue who this “unknown” person was by the name of Kim Gordon… and you just wonder… are you really so deluded you think this one person you listen to invented the whole concept of music?

Maybe I’m touchy about the subject. I always feel bad about bands or musicians whose music I know, but not necessarily their name. But I’m also not dumbass enough to believe that my generation was all that revolutionary. The punk revolution was before me and in many ways, they pushed the envelope. Rock ‘n’ Roll pushed it before them, knocking big band out of the way, opening the path for the hippy revolution a generation later.

I’ll see your Lady GaGa and raise you Missing Persons.

I’ll see your Miley Cyrus and raise you Blondie (NSFW image).

Or hey, almost any of these (NSFW)

The point I’m trying to make I guess is that if some of the current generation of musicians and their fandoms want to portray themselves as the sole revolutionary figure in whatever they are doing, that makes them fucking stupid if they really believe it. Generations upon generations before them laid the groundwork for them to able to do their thing today and not be condemned for it and even if you hate everything they produced, you should at least know of them and give a nod for the progress they did make since the latter generations get to reap the rewards.

Oh and any music outfit who has never written their own songs, lip syncs at concerts and/or has a team of people who actually decides who they are… you don’t deserve shit and you are merely a gutted Inflate-a-Date, take ownership of your own life now because you will be thrown to the side the second the cash cow dries up.

So respect your elders, dammit! and get off mah lawn, you whippersnappers!

On that note, I leave you a stupidly wonderful song from the 80’s… basque in the majesty.

experiment: reader input requested (g2)

I’m not sure if I’m feisty from sucking down strong coffee to spite my stomach ulcer or maybe high from the sugar in the pop-tart I just snarfed like I was 10 (you know, systematically eat all the shit unfrosted edges first…) BUT, I had an idea and wanted to see how it worked.

For those of you who read our blog… shout out the five words/phrases that come to your mind when I say “Hey, what would you like me to write about next?” All five to be included in one post… yes, really.

I am seeing myself getting very socio-political and if you like it, that’s cool, but I figure a little spontaneity is in order to mix things up. I don’t like things to get too heavy all the time. I’m opinionated enough

This is for G-uno and I both, I leave G-uno first dibs to pick which she wants to take. However, you can specifically request one of us as well. Yes, I will try to do one for every response.

Why are you still reading and not posting?

when i want to see quality news about my own country, i watch bbc (g2)

I have to agree with G-uno, yet again, on the lack of quality or non-sensationalist bullshit news in this country. When news companies survive on corporation sponsorship, the same entities behind probably some of the most epic crimes in this country, the last thing they can do is report on any of it. Tie that with other factors such as we are currently at our lowest crime rate worldwide, and this is just showing signs of getting lower. We are also at our most tolerant, and this too is getting more widespread. Doesn’t seem like it though, does it?

Well, if you spend any time online you will at some point meet or see trolls. These are people who are some of the most personally dysfunctional who spend most of their time trying to shit on everyone else. They can be sincerely brutal, possibly even acting out some of this in real life. Mostly they are a bunch of sad sack assholes who realize they mean little to anyone… at all. This is simply their way of feeling like they matter. If you want one to go away, generally ignore them. However, in some cases they can be excessively vocal and they do attract their own kind, especially when the goal is spewing violent misogyny. What they fear especially about women, I have yet to understand.

You will also notice online that ads and headlines there as well use hooks of tragedy to garner your attention and try to lure you into clicking to read more.

There is also the fact that G-uno pointed out in which news companies try very very hard to repeatedly hook you to watch their programming. They could have 19 stories of reunited families, 12 of rehabilitated criminals, 26 of thwarted crimes, 82 acts of community charity and one abduction of a white girl that would be a misunderstanding between two bitter divorcees and it would be this final item, leaving out the misunderstanding bit, that would make the headlines. They would leave it on a cliffhanger that would make maybe page 27 of the paper three days later, if they acknowledged it at all, since wasting our time on BS is something no one wants to acknowledge they’re doing.

When I was a kid, I saw old movies and shows where the integrity of the news was considered paramount. Yes, they sought out the story, but it had to be truthful and if it hurt someone unnecessarily, it was dropped. Where did we go so wrong that this is not even close to current journalism?

Please don’t talk to me about gaming journalism especially (Fuck you, GamerGate aka misogynistic trolls – see above). Gaming in itself is purely subjective, the only real integrity in that is being honest when you like and dislike something. However, what I like and what you like in games is probably not going to be the same, but if I know a particular journalist to have similar tastes to my own, I’m probably going to read his/her reviews more often.

As far as the news… There was a time when one of our presidents became confined to a wheelchair and out of respect and his request, he was never filmed from the waist down. These days, there would be exclusive footage of him taking a shit with the help of his nurse and an affair would be “speculated.”

Why? Because it sells.

I was watching Doctor Who one night because duh… we’ve established my geekdom by now haven’t we? and BBC News came on shortly after. They were reporting on an overseas visit my president had made and gave a decent blurb on why he was there (local charity work, trying to foster more attention to the area, etc). The one thing I didn’t see was any of this reported on any American station. Fox News of course wouldn’t because they would have to put aside their conservative Amuhrikun views to acknowledge anything beneficial our president might do since the Bushes might get pissed and ban them from the White Male Elite for the Lobotomization of the Country Club. But the Associated Press? CNN? Reuters? Times? Nothing, really? I began to realize from reading the BBC news website that I generally found out more of what my own country had going on than my own news sources reported. But why?

The best I can figure, and its the little things, is us… we are the problem. If you have ever been in gridlock you know bloody well it is one of two things 1.some fart who cannot understand that the passing lane is not a method to govern the speed of everyone behind you and 2. rubberneckers. Guess which is more likely.

We are addicted to disaster, just not our own. If its ours we rage and whine about the disrespect other people do not have for our privacy but we are rabid and hungry when anyone else suffers. We want to know every minute detail… it allows us to judge people better, usually as negatively as possible. We devour scandal as though we are starving. We want to see the powerful fall, the rich weak and blundering and the common man dirty as a dime hooker.

As much as I would love to say that the news reports on this negative information because they want us all to be mindless, frothing balls of fear and anger perpetually glued to our screens because we are too scared to go outside any longer and are convinced the apocalypse is coming soon… they are not. They feed us what we keep asking for when we give our attention to the darkness and the shit. We turn off the screen when they talk about charity work that has been successful but stay tuned when they report on a ten car pile up on a highway. Someone marketing guy spend ages figuring out that cutesy dog outfits got more attention than child runaways, STD problem in prostitution and humane ways we could rectify it (by not vilifying it), or the slave trade.. yes, in this country. Those latter ones would require us to check in and help do something, a wreck we can judge from a distance about how much better we would have handled it.

So I guess this is when I have to quote that guy/gal who said “we have to be the change we want to see in the world” and of course, let your money speak for you.

And for god sake, stop rubbernecking you stupid fart. It’s none of your business if I want to go faster than the posted limit and that wreck on the side of the road sure as hell isn’t any your business either.

If I ever saw the headlines “13 Rubberneckers Spend Night in Jail” or “New Fine dubbed ‘Asshole Clause’ Instituted”… I’d buy a dozen copies of that. Maybe more… give them out as Christmas presents in frames, maybe.

depression (g2)

The first time I wanted to die, I was seven years old.

My parents were both young and absent and my grandparent, with whom I lived, was the type who played a few dozen mind games before their morning tea was fully steeped. They would often go on about what piles of excrement both of my parents were. To a young child, its an easy bit of math to figure out that if the two people who made you are nothing but crap, then you must be double.

It took some years, but I realized later that much of that dialog was rooted in jealousy. Children love their parents, even if they are not present, and it does not stop them from wanting to love them. My grandparent viewed love as a pool with a set limit. If you loved one child more than the other, it meant you were taking some away. In their own way, they were trying to eliminate the parental love to garner a larger share.

Of course, that was not helpful to a seven year old child, even if I’d known that then. Suicide and thoughts thereof would hallmark much of my childhood. I didn’t find birthdays fun. I stopped enjoying holidays altogether. I went to the happiest place on earth and thought it was a miserable experience. At seventeen, I attempted to take myself out of the equation.

Obviously, it was a grand failure. I learned a heavy lesson that some things just aren’t any of our business. Afterwords, I thought of who would have been most likely to find me if I had died and the kind of hurt and trauma that would have caused. I couldn’t believe I’d been so selfish. One moment of success and I would have never been able to correct that or take it back.

Depression in and of itself has been a large chunk of most of my life. Mostly, I was able to work my way back out of it. I made very good friendships the older I got and they were a great help in talking me out of the void, friendships that are still big parts of my life today.  I don’t think I will ever be able to express just how grateful I am to have them as my self-made family.

As I got older, the amount of responsibility and weight that comes with adulthood increases and so does your chance of succumbing to depression. For the first time, I had to enlist the kind of help that comes with a prescription. Three medications later and I finally found one that just lets me be me without any “extras.”

The first one I tried made me feel… nothing. My kid was just going through their series of firsts and I couldn’t force a smile on my face. That one had to go. The second one made me feel too much of everything all the time. The third, I felt like myself, only like a giant weight had been pushed off, as though there was a cushion between me and it. Everything was manageable, nothing was overwhelming me anymore. I sound like one hell of an odd Goldilocks, eh?

When Robin Williams took his own life recently, my kid had a lot of questions. How does a man who has always smiled and made the whole world laugh have so much pain inside he feels he needs to take his own life to get away from it? Jim Carrey seems to be another such case of the funniest among us who fight some of the biggest battles in depression. These two are just a drop in the bucket, but they are the first to come to my mind as I type this… at least that are still alive for most to remember (Farley, Kennison, Dangerfield, Hicks, Pryor or Belushi, anyone?). Why is this? Is their humor a way of trying to get the world to reflect back their amusement and humor so they might be able to feel lit like the rays of the sun?

You would think once you reach that age and that level of fame, you have enough resources to keep the demons at bay. You have the experience to understand when you’re weakest. Apparently, that is not the case for anyone. It was a wake-up call for me too in the sense that I should never be complacent in keeping my inner demons from manifesting.

My kid wanted to know what depression was and if sadness was what it meant. They only understood that if you were hurting that much there had to be a reason, a very real and tangible reason. How frustrating is it to try to explain the abstract concept of depression to someone who sees things in such simple terms. If it only it were so simple.

My kid and I are both fans of Allie Brosh, the author of Hyperbole and a Half. I even had to rebuy her book because my kid stole my copy. Allie also succumbed to depression for quite some time. The way she described the experience, in a funny but very honest way, became my source material in trying to explain this to my own child. You’ll need a laugh after this post, so please be sure to read them. They won’t disappoint.

Adventures in Depression

Depression: Part II

If you feel like you’re being sucked down the void, tell someone. Reach out, not once but as many times as it takes until someone listens and leads you to resources that can help you. Some people have no clue about the signs of depression or what to do if they did, sometimes not even the ones going through it, but keep reaching. Your doctor is usually the first best resource, but if they seem to be brushing you aside, find another. As long as you keep reaching, no matter your situation, you will eventually see light again.

Oh My Blog! You Brought Out The Atheist Elephant (G-uno)

Your absolutely right G2 this is exact reason we started this blog. Let me also apologize to all the fellow “Bloggers” out there for my obvious lack of writing skills. I do not by any means consider myself to be a writer. I am in awe at G2’s  talents in this department along with the many other bloggers out there who were clearly bestowed with a gift from God that I do not share. That’s correct I do happen to very strongly believe in God. Now before those of you who are still trying to recover from G2’s blog, this may not be right time for you to get too comfortable.

I have had my own very deep and personal relationship with God for as long as I can remember. For me God’s existence has never been a question. Here is where things may get a little tricky for the mainstream religious sector. I don’t see God as having a gender, race, or sexual orientation. For me God is the creator of all things. I believe we are all created in God’s image.

For me the term God’s image embodies everyone, and everything. All genders including transgender. All races, and all religions/religious beliefs, (yes Atheism too), all forms of sexuality (as long as it involves consenting adults), all species and every element. I believe that God uses each of us as a means of experiencing all life, and all that life has to offer. I have always rejected the notion that God would create anything with the sole purpose of rejecting that creation.

So the next question here is what about evil? All the horrible, unspeakable, wrong, unfair ,and unjust occurrences in life. I believe that in order for anyone to fully appreciate how truly beautiful life is, that you must have a equal understanding of what life’s dark side is like. I think that in order for God to be able to completely love us, that God also has to have an understanding of what it feels like to hate us.

Unlike G2 I think that God finds us all fascinating and complex. I think that God enjoys us at our best ,and even at our worst. Can I prove that God exist? No, I can not prove that God exist in a tangible way, any more than someone else can prove that God doesn’t exist. It’s a matter of faith like getting up every day and making plans. Participating in our lives even though our mortality could end at any moment. God is for me those constant inner thoughts that exists in our minds. The funny thing is that no one ever asks us to prove the existence of our minds.

G2 and I have vastly different views regarding many issues, but the beauty of this alliance is a willingness to be open to all possibilities. Also the fact that neither of us would have obtained employment in our line of work had we shared our thoughts on this subject. 😉

belief (g2)

Ok, so I’m dancing around the alphabet but I was suddenly struck with a good one for B. I’m going to drag the big elephant I generally tend to keep shoved in a closet out into the room.

I am an atheist.

I had my realization about my lack of faith about the age of twelve, in the heart of the southern bible belt. I did not have a word to call it then, but those around me would surely call it “heathen.” I was already a bastard child, so lacking any urge to thump any bibles would surely cause an uproar.

The funny thing is, up until I accepted that part of myself as immutable, I was the kid in the front row on Sunday morning, taking notes and asking a lot of tough questions. I tried so hard to find what motivated all these other people to move like a bobblehead in time with the pastor’s sermon. I wanted to know why the music made so many happy, even though at least two in that choir sounded more like screaming cats sliding down a chalkboard… slowly.

When I finally accepted no amount of study would generate faith within myself, I was both terrified and relieved. I found out that some fights are meant to be lost. I inherently understood as well that if I planned to remain around the southern area or even just the states, I needed to give up on the idea that I could tell anyone casually.

It took me a while to understand what the animosity stems from, the one where people who are religious want absolutely nothing to do (even for hiring purposes) with someone they know to be an atheist.

friend: “Then what’s your motivation to do the right thing if not God and Heaven?”

I was stunned. They were asking sincerely, they truly weren’t trying to be nasty about it, but…

me:”hmm, I guess the difference between you and me is I don’t need a payoff to be a good person.”

Apparently, there is no way that a person could ever want to be decent, kind, generous or ethical without some motivation, some bribe? Is the fear that, without fear of “God’s wrath,” there is no barrier from me becoming a liar, a con artist, a murderer?

I was married into a religious family, but I was honest about my own stance. I refused to take on their religion, even on the surface, because it would have been a lie. I had to endure the angry glares of in-laws who felt that I must be a deviant since I had no faith. It was relieving when after years, the glares faded when they realized that being without faith did not mean I was without morals. In fact, its usually the person who feels the need to emphatically declare themselves “Christian” that make my sphincter twitch.

To me, religion is a brilliant concept. Let’s say back when we were just starting to organize as small civilizations, when the idea of “crime” was becoming a thing. If I were that leader and I needed to reign in my people to behave, “heaven” is a wonderfully abstract concept that I never have to tangibly prove. By the time they figure anything out, they will be dead. God was simply a way to give meaning to the meaningless, to make us feel special.

This will probably offend the religious, but in that sense I’m sharing what I never can share in public, which is the whole point of this blog. In some ways, I’m envious of the faithful. They have something I lack and feel there is a greater purpose to things. I’m more inclined to believe we set our own destiny and to think you can sit around and wait for things to happen to you is ridiculous. Senseless death is senseless because its random, there is no grand plan. Otherwise, life would be fair, wouldn’t it?

I have friends of many religious backgrounds, we have a mutual respect and understanding to agree to disagree. For those who cannot embrace that concept, they don’t know I don’t believe. I even have a couple friends who try to subtly invite me to church or lend me books with a heavy religious undertone. I tell them my honest opinion, they get a little pissed, and the cycle begins anew.

I think they misunderstand something. I do not mind if at the end things for me, I’m proven totally wrong. It’s totally ok if I have to go, “my bad.” I live my life on my own terms and by coming to the conclusion that felt most right for me. That’s all anyone can do.

I’ve also seen my fair share of weird shit in this world that is completely unexplainable, for now. I’ve had my kid start interacting with the air 3 feet above my head while I was changing them, interacting in the same they did with their grandparent we visited every Friday… until they died two days before. My kid didn’t know that. How do you even explain death to someone under the age of two?

I’ve woken up at the exact time an uncle died (found out later), at a time I would have never normally woken up. I talked before about having the dream conversation with an old friend the night they died as well. I don’t analyze any of that because I don’t currently have an answer. I take it at face value and move on. Maybe its nothing, maybe its something. I’m sure fire looked like magic once too.

Now reincarnation and the essence of Buddhism and Hinduism I think are interesting. I do feel, or at least hope, that karma exists. Whenever I’ve been an especially big asshole, I’ve usually had it backlash on me tenfold. Thinking that some shithead who is obnoxious on every level might come back as a cockroach gives me no end of amusement. I don’t know much about it honestly, but what little I do know, it seems more of a spiritual rather than religious path and I find that more relatable.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not seeking a place for my soul to belong. I have long understood that, like G-uno, we can hold onto two vastly different and contradictory ideas and find them both… possible, likely or even true. That is REALLY tricky and frustrating for some people to understand. We’re the ones who don’t always give a straight answer when asked “what do you think?”

The idea that we are so attached to our own existences that some energy is able to remain behind for a short while that is not beholden to the constraints of the physical…hmm, possible? Likely? Probably not, but who knows? If a God really does exist, I would venture to guess we are little more than a boring ant farm taking residence among one of his marbles. But one all knowing, all seeing supreme being? I just cannot grab onto that one. Logic tells me we are walking future fertilizer.

With all that said, I hope those who might stumble on this and feel the need to save my soul or rage about religious doctrine, go get something soothing to sip on and take a breath because what I’m about to say might take some patience to sink in…

I will still probably be an atheist when you’re done. I’ve been around long enough that I have frustrated street preachers, strangers, classmates, long-time friends and family too. I was intrigued when C.S. Lewis went from atheism to Christianity but the best I was able to glean as to the reason, was fear…. a “just in case,” if you will. I’m sure there are a thousand speculations, and many which have solid reasoning, but I wanted to read it from the man himself, through his books.

I find religions interesting, but from the outside. It helps me to understand people. If I could wish for anything, it would be to eliminate that element of organized religion that makes so many hate those unlike themselves. If the whole doctrine of religion is about love, acceptance and generosity, why does it seem so many have none to spare?

I still have not figured that one out. Westside Baptist Church is the extreme case of what I see done more mildly everywhere else. I see religious tirades about sexuality and abortion, but I don’t think anyone ever shuts up long enough to ask themselves, why?

A person in a desperate situation makes a choice they feel they must for whatever reason, one they already have to live with the aftermath of, one which was difficult enough to do already. But then they have to be proverbially stoned for making that choice by a bunch of people who are not directly affected by their actions in any way. A person is attracted to the same sex, something they cannot control, and are deemed evil or wicked again, by people whose lives are not in any way affected by this person. All while preaching love and acceptance. I find this truly confusing.

Remember that no matter what a person chooses to believe, we should be judged by our actions, not the groups or words by which we define ourselves.Tall, short, fat, thin, male, female, religious, spiritual, gay, bi, lesbian, Catholic, Methodist, Pastafarian, Muslim… it all means nothing. If you shove all that aside and sit down with someone completely different, you might be surprised how much you have in common. “Love thy neighbor” is just great advice. “To thine ownself be true,” is just genius! It doesn’t matter where it came from or what you might get out of it, its sound words to live by. When you are true to yourself, to who you are, you are simply happier.

Now for those of you who are starting to get my twisted humor, I leave with you a song I would sing loudly when stuck in the car with my Grand with no booze to give them (they was a happy tipsy person). They were a deeply negative person and would go through the same series of martyrdom stories over and over until I felt like my ears were bleeding. Grand was religious though, so this made it much more fun.  If anything in my post pissed you off, don’t watch. Or do, poking the bear can be fun too.