i care too much about most of you to force you to read about my clipped-wing angst. so instead, i will take the 'vogon' route and give you poetry. :)
this is dedicated to all of my friends who are brave enough to have and raise children.
Punk Rock Has Borne A Raving Child
My eldest was born with bright pink hair,
Mathilda, who in adolescent angst,
dyed it brown.
Then Hannah and Naomi, the twins came -
both gothic, two little silent blackbirds.
Their eyes, the classic "limpid pools", still
speak in flashes, reflections and depths,
their mouths seldom move but to accomodate
candy and cigarettes.
Last came little Joe Rocket. A perfect,
angelic, blue-eyed blonde babe whose hair
never grew past a mohawk-strip.
He wears it spiked, with rooster-like pride
to chess-club and programming classes.
No one questions his thick black Costello glasses,
plaid shirt, pocket protector, satisfied grin.
When they were sad, it was 'Sex Pistols'
to sing them to sleep;
when they were happy, they only wanted Morrissey.
I could never say no to sugar pops, cartoons,
firecrackers and sex. How could they?
When the world zooms around them, past light speed,
full of bombs and barbed wire and fanciful
sparkling electric death?
When psychic tigers sleep in every Bush,
while real tigers die out by the day,
by the hour.
I and the world do the best we know how -
but even punk-rock can't stop
the speed of evolution.
-sll, 08/26/02-
Saturday, February 15, 2003
Friday, February 14, 2003
well, in the spirit of yesterday's rant, i have decided NOT to express my feelings about this particular holiday, and that is my valentine's day treat to you all.
there IS something worth celebrating today, however... today is stewart's third 39th birthday. happy birthday, stewart!
my back is !@#$ killing me, so i really don't have to gumption to rant today. that alone should tell you that i am feeling pretty bad!
i hope all is well in the (hopefully) chocolate-coated, truffle-filled recesses of all your hearts. i hope this day brings you whatever you expect of it.
i've got rain, pain and money-drain. but hey, it's not snowing, work is paying for my medical bills, and the mechanics dropped the price of my repairs by 200$.
Always look on the bright side of life!
there IS something worth celebrating today, however... today is stewart's third 39th birthday. happy birthday, stewart!
my back is !@#$ killing me, so i really don't have to gumption to rant today. that alone should tell you that i am feeling pretty bad!
i hope all is well in the (hopefully) chocolate-coated, truffle-filled recesses of all your hearts. i hope this day brings you whatever you expect of it.
i've got rain, pain and money-drain. but hey, it's not snowing, work is paying for my medical bills, and the mechanics dropped the price of my repairs by 200$.
Always look on the bright side of life!
Thursday, February 13, 2003
It’s taken 34 years, but I think I’ve finally figured out what “normal” is.
I think “normal” is defined – judged – by society as a whole, as well as in concentrically smaller sub-societies, as one’s ability to squelch one’s true feelings about any given thing; to ignore or hide one’s emotional responses*.
There are clear scales set up within each society by which one is judged. These scales range from very small (wearing odd hats, or liking Gordon Lightfoot), to ‘blasphemous’ or ‘treasonous’ standards.
Though I may not be considered an “average” representative of my own culture, I am certainly more qualified to speak from an American, working class, rural, white, Christian perspective than from any other. With the exception of the ‘white’, I believe this puts me into the majority of the population of this country. I will use my self and these sub-societal classifications to make examples of my point.
American:
I, like all of my friends, am sickeningly disgusted with the current American government and it’s affairs. This is no secret. The entire nation (with the exception of perhaps 10% of it’s VERY wealthy population) seems to be.
However, when I stated my heartfelt opinion about the current state of affairs to a mature, trusted friend on the phone yesterday, he IMMEDIATELY reminded me that I could go to jail for saying what I did.
Despite the fact that this intelligent, educated older man agrees with me precisely on this subject, his own fear of censure and judgment was so great that he felt the need to warn me (aggressively, vehemently, as if I were an ignorant child) that I could be arrested for expressing that opinion, even to a trusted friend in a private phone conversation.
Working class:
I work for a government organization. My job has political ramifications that range in scale from ‘National’ to ‘local fund-raising hob-nob’. I am reminded DAILY of my need to curb my expression and be a model of “normal” – even if it entails lying.
Rural:
In 34 years of life in the American rural and suburban South, I have been beaten, molested, raped, locked up, starved, terrorized, abandoned, and neglected – repeatedly. Speaking from my personal experience, this is absolutely ‘traditional’, and I have been asked, instructed and begged – a countless number of times – to deny, forget, ‘drop’, or just keep silent about everyone of these experiences. Sometimes by friends, sometimes by family members, sometimes by the police. This has happened in every single instance.
White:
I have been censured for even SAYING that I would date a man of another race. One young man of my acquaintance was privately insulted by my father for having the courage to ask him if he could ask me out. An ex-girlfriend of one of my beaux tried to turn him against me by informing him of my multi-racial dating past. This list is sadly endless.
Christian:
My pentacles get many queries. I stumble over myself to give my true but safe rote answer. I am not allowed the same privileges as any other citizen regarding the use of a particular public facility because one of my hobbies (D&D) might be considered “satanic” or “anti-Christian” by some people’s standards. This list, too, is endless.
My easiest example is my new situation, sharing my house with another person.
How many times a day do either of us find something that is disturbing in some way and decide to say nothing, because that equals ‘being a good – normal – housemate’? When this happens, when I bite down on a grievance, I mentally pat myself on the back for being ‘good’, and then grit my teeth and try to find another way around – another way to feel ok about saying nothing, a way to ease my guilt when I find that I HAVE to say something.
How often do couples squelch their true feelings - or teachers to students, parents to children (and vice versa), employees to employers? I think of my friend “Crow-Girl” here, and of how much she fears that people might not like her true self… I think of the names I’ve been called all of my life, how strange my own family has found me at times. “Over-sensitive”, “weird”, “moody”, “high-strung”, “flighty”. I am none of these things. I am just as “normal” as I can bear to be. I hold back and bite down a lot, as much as I can stand to. I think we all do, if we are able, and we suffer break-downs, blow-ups, road-rage, heart-attacks, neuroses, psychoses, depression, high blood pressure, PTSD, anxiety attacks, abuse, addiction, incarceration, etc. – all in the name of “normalcy”.
Read Desmond Morris, folks.
*James, I hate to tell you, but your nation may be vying with Japan for highest on the scale of social evolution, according to my theory.
I think “normal” is defined – judged – by society as a whole, as well as in concentrically smaller sub-societies, as one’s ability to squelch one’s true feelings about any given thing; to ignore or hide one’s emotional responses*.
There are clear scales set up within each society by which one is judged. These scales range from very small (wearing odd hats, or liking Gordon Lightfoot), to ‘blasphemous’ or ‘treasonous’ standards.
Though I may not be considered an “average” representative of my own culture, I am certainly more qualified to speak from an American, working class, rural, white, Christian perspective than from any other. With the exception of the ‘white’, I believe this puts me into the majority of the population of this country. I will use my self and these sub-societal classifications to make examples of my point.
American:
I, like all of my friends, am sickeningly disgusted with the current American government and it’s affairs. This is no secret. The entire nation (with the exception of perhaps 10% of it’s VERY wealthy population) seems to be.
However, when I stated my heartfelt opinion about the current state of affairs to a mature, trusted friend on the phone yesterday, he IMMEDIATELY reminded me that I could go to jail for saying what I did.
Despite the fact that this intelligent, educated older man agrees with me precisely on this subject, his own fear of censure and judgment was so great that he felt the need to warn me (aggressively, vehemently, as if I were an ignorant child) that I could be arrested for expressing that opinion, even to a trusted friend in a private phone conversation.
Working class:
I work for a government organization. My job has political ramifications that range in scale from ‘National’ to ‘local fund-raising hob-nob’. I am reminded DAILY of my need to curb my expression and be a model of “normal” – even if it entails lying.
Rural:
In 34 years of life in the American rural and suburban South, I have been beaten, molested, raped, locked up, starved, terrorized, abandoned, and neglected – repeatedly. Speaking from my personal experience, this is absolutely ‘traditional’, and I have been asked, instructed and begged – a countless number of times – to deny, forget, ‘drop’, or just keep silent about everyone of these experiences. Sometimes by friends, sometimes by family members, sometimes by the police. This has happened in every single instance.
White:
I have been censured for even SAYING that I would date a man of another race. One young man of my acquaintance was privately insulted by my father for having the courage to ask him if he could ask me out. An ex-girlfriend of one of my beaux tried to turn him against me by informing him of my multi-racial dating past. This list is sadly endless.
Christian:
My pentacles get many queries. I stumble over myself to give my true but safe rote answer. I am not allowed the same privileges as any other citizen regarding the use of a particular public facility because one of my hobbies (D&D) might be considered “satanic” or “anti-Christian” by some people’s standards. This list, too, is endless.
My easiest example is my new situation, sharing my house with another person.
How many times a day do either of us find something that is disturbing in some way and decide to say nothing, because that equals ‘being a good – normal – housemate’? When this happens, when I bite down on a grievance, I mentally pat myself on the back for being ‘good’, and then grit my teeth and try to find another way around – another way to feel ok about saying nothing, a way to ease my guilt when I find that I HAVE to say something.
How often do couples squelch their true feelings - or teachers to students, parents to children (and vice versa), employees to employers? I think of my friend “Crow-Girl” here, and of how much she fears that people might not like her true self… I think of the names I’ve been called all of my life, how strange my own family has found me at times. “Over-sensitive”, “weird”, “moody”, “high-strung”, “flighty”. I am none of these things. I am just as “normal” as I can bear to be. I hold back and bite down a lot, as much as I can stand to. I think we all do, if we are able, and we suffer break-downs, blow-ups, road-rage, heart-attacks, neuroses, psychoses, depression, high blood pressure, PTSD, anxiety attacks, abuse, addiction, incarceration, etc. – all in the name of “normalcy”.
Read Desmond Morris, folks.
*James, I hate to tell you, but your nation may be vying with Japan for highest on the scale of social evolution, according to my theory.
