After my extended absence during my recovery (by the way, it still hurts like a mo’ fo’, thanks for asking), I must immediately return to ranting like the lunatic that I am. After all, what would one’s highly anticipated return to the blogosphere be without a lot of arm waving, hair pulling, and soapboxing? Alright, so I am the only one highly anticipating my own return, screw it, I am famous in my own world.
CENSORSHIP
It’s the topic of the day, kiddies. First off, let’s get something straight: there is a big difference between censorship and enacting age based limitations on consumption of media. After all, entertainment forms do have several in place already. I consider enforcing age limitations to be a way to sidestep having to go down the ugly and wayward path of outright censorship, and is thus, a necessary evil. So for all the kiddies out there who were lamenting the fact that several states are now requiring the M status on video games to be akin to R rated movies, I just have to say get the FUCK over it. Which would you rather have happen, not being able to play the games until you are eighteen (or your parents loosen your leash and trust your mental capacity), or not being able to play the games EVER because they aren’t allowed to be made (which would then be the actual affront to the First Amendment)???? That’s what I thought. Now Quit whining.
BUT…what I am really not understanding is the current uproar about this whole matter being caused by a very specific game. Now, the ruckus that GTA San Andreas is causing is for an apparently unlockable portion where you can get some nookie. Whoopdee shit, digital boobies. But ho OH! It has scared the willies out of parents and congress alike, not only to enforce a newer tighter restriction of Adults Only on the title, but causing it to be pulled off the shelves in several stores and cities. Which, incidentally, just helped that game company sell a whole lot more units, by the way, so I am sure they thank you for the blissfully profitable marketing you just provided. Now, what I am not grasping in this whole fiasco is that in this game you can rip apart a police officer with a chainsaw and steal the squad car. This has actually been prevalent in the last three installments of GTA, with narry a mutter from the conservative front. But…wait, now that tatas are involved, we must be in an uproar?! There’s actually some holierthanthou mindfuckingly stupid person who is SUEING rockstar games for damages due to suddenly seeing this being played by the fourteen year old she bought it for. Oh, and collective damages for anyone else who’s cornea were apparently scarred beyond recognition at the horrible site of pixilated booty knockin’. I heard this and I think my brain ripped in two.
So, rampant violence in society is fine, but T & A ain’t okay?! What the FUCK people. Do you realize how friggin ridiculous this is. This game, and actually, every game ever made by the company, is insanely violent, to the point of passing gratuitous and going straight for outright lunacy with a flamethrower. Sure, there’s been rumblings, especially when they released the game about rioting (which, incidentally, I didn’t find all that amusing, save for being able to decapitate someone and then use the head as another weapon). But they’ve been able to float under the conservative radar with most of the crapola they pull, despite it’s obvious depravity. Now mind you, I ain’t knocking these games. The graphics rock and the open ended concept and freeform gaming engine is pure genius. I just wouldn’t buy them for a fourteen year old. Hell, I’d let my kid play Leisure Suit Larry before this game, to be honest (wait, no I wouldn’t, that game sucked eggs).
I just don’t understand how, in a world with a war without reason, children killing children, and apathy towards the pain of others, our society is choosing to ignore the guns and freak out over the titties.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
La Dentura
Well, not too much time tonight to talk, just thought I'd give an update from the frontline. I have moments of glaring coherency between pain medication doses, which I can use to check and type emails, and write out quick blog entries while gritting through tears until I cane take my next dose of vicadin. My surgery went well on Monday, at least, that's what they tell me. I was blissfully unconscious for the whole thing. The last thing I remembered was the doctor taping all those weirdo monitoring devices on me and saying, "Oh, before you fall asleep..." Gosh, I hope it wasn't anything important, because I don't even remember the ride back home after the operation. Mom asked me if I wanted anything when we got off the freeway, and apparently it took three tries for me to get out "SHAKE". First she thought I said Rick, and she replied that she had already called hubby. Then she thought I said sick, and started to try and pull the car over lest I hurl in her pretty little dark blue impala. But no, since I had been deprived any substinance that day in light of the anesthesia, I just wanted something to drink. And it was 80 friggin degrees. Unfortunately, drink became dribble, as my mouth was still pretty numb.
These first few days have been hell, let me tell ya. Apparently the rest of that first day I spent in tears, although the nurse swears it's the anesthesia that makes a person weepy. Oh, rather than something like getting all of your top teeth yanked out of their gums and replaced by an alien device, no that's just fucking normal. By the way, my surgeon's office staff are a bunch of anal retentive bitches who wouldn't know common courtesy and civility if it came up and bit them in their bloated derriers. Anyways...
Day two was spent in...ugh, well pain, obviously. I didn't get too much sleep teh first night, as everytime I moved my head would throb. Apparently the side where the wisdom tooth was ended up not being too pleasant, because it is now ridiculously swollen. I look like a very angry chipmunk. I saw my dentist the next day for the first of the many hellish adjustments that will need to be made to the piece, and she added a perscription for Percoset to get me through the night times. Ah, that is such a lovely woman!
How's eating? So far the last three days have been oatmeal, mashed potatoes, and as much fruit as I can shove into a blender. Oh, and that horrible excuse for chocolate known as Instant Breakfast. Gawd, what evil german nutritionist thought that crap up? Seriously, it's terrible. I am currently mumping down a bowl of mashed bananas.
So, other than the swelling and bruising, how does it look? Surprisingly...normal. I mean, the teeth do. Once I heal up, I doubt anyone will really be able to tell. They aren't that creepy perfectly symmetrical type of denture one is used to, and they are dainty and fit well with the size of my mouth. Hell, I think my natural teeth may have actually been larger. And they are a fairly pretty shade of white, but natural, not super bleached out and obvious. So, if I can block out the rest of the image in the mirror and just check out the cute little row of pearlies I now possess, I guess I can sorta see the light at the end of the tunnel. But the real light is knowing that in a few months, I'll be able to eat the first carmel apple I've had in years.
These first few days have been hell, let me tell ya. Apparently the rest of that first day I spent in tears, although the nurse swears it's the anesthesia that makes a person weepy. Oh, rather than something like getting all of your top teeth yanked out of their gums and replaced by an alien device, no that's just fucking normal. By the way, my surgeon's office staff are a bunch of anal retentive bitches who wouldn't know common courtesy and civility if it came up and bit them in their bloated derriers. Anyways...
Day two was spent in...ugh, well pain, obviously. I didn't get too much sleep teh first night, as everytime I moved my head would throb. Apparently the side where the wisdom tooth was ended up not being too pleasant, because it is now ridiculously swollen. I look like a very angry chipmunk. I saw my dentist the next day for the first of the many hellish adjustments that will need to be made to the piece, and she added a perscription for Percoset to get me through the night times. Ah, that is such a lovely woman!
How's eating? So far the last three days have been oatmeal, mashed potatoes, and as much fruit as I can shove into a blender. Oh, and that horrible excuse for chocolate known as Instant Breakfast. Gawd, what evil german nutritionist thought that crap up? Seriously, it's terrible. I am currently mumping down a bowl of mashed bananas.
So, other than the swelling and bruising, how does it look? Surprisingly...normal. I mean, the teeth do. Once I heal up, I doubt anyone will really be able to tell. They aren't that creepy perfectly symmetrical type of denture one is used to, and they are dainty and fit well with the size of my mouth. Hell, I think my natural teeth may have actually been larger. And they are a fairly pretty shade of white, but natural, not super bleached out and obvious. So, if I can block out the rest of the image in the mirror and just check out the cute little row of pearlies I now possess, I guess I can sorta see the light at the end of the tunnel. But the real light is knowing that in a few months, I'll be able to eat the first carmel apple I've had in years.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Call me Patch Adams
Well, a few of you know that one of the things I had to do pre-surgery (6 days and counting!) was to quit smoking. Well, I had set my start date for this week. I figured I'd start a week ahead of time to ease into the process, rather than deal with skinpeeling nicotine cravings whilest trying to recover from massive surgery.
Oh, for those of you wondering why quitting was necessary for this, smoking impedes the healing process, as it thins your blood a bit too much for real clots to form, thus lengthening the time a wound takes to close. When you smoke while recovering from oral surgery, you risk a horrid condition called Dry Socket, which I've heard is akin to having your gums smashed repeatedly with a meat tenderizer. Also, since I will more than likely have an exposed sinus due to the wisdom tooth they are also removing, smoking could actually be even more dangerous on top of all the other reasons.
Sooooo...I was a day late in starting, but the process has begun! I smoked my last ciggy (I hope) last night, and woefully placed the circle of doom on my back. Honestly, waking up this morning and not smoking was weird, but with the patch on, not so bad. I even got through two cups of coffee without a serious craving. I always had a cigarette with my coffee, it was almost mandatory. Having now gotten through a few hours, it's a little more difficult, but I am still feeling fairly in control. Of course, I say this as I furiously suck on a piece of licorice. My dad says the first three days were the hardest. Which is fine, because it's only 6 days before I'll be in complete incoherency, so at least I have a deadline I can see to ease this nightmare and begin another one.
Oh, and to all my friends who have quit smoking before me, you are all my new personal heroes! I've known this day has neeeded to happen for quit sometime. I have a son, after all, and one whom I want to set a good example for. I smoked while I was pregnant, which is a horrible thing, and I still feel miserable to this day that I was so addicted to something that I did that. Oh, let's see, what else? It really is a disgusting habit. Your fingers turn yellow; your hair, body, and clothes stink; it's ridiculously expensive (and for what, seriously?), you can't get the smell out of your house; people look down at you...I could go on...but there's the obvious...It's friggin unhealthy as hell.
The only real hurdle I've had in dealing with this (and will more than likely continue to face) is my husband. Not exactly known for being Captain Supportive, he's been particularly brtual in regards to this. You see, yes, my husband smokes, but he smokes less than I do. I smoked a pack a day, whereas he was about at a half. But, being the person he is, he feels that the addiction is purely psychological, and thus relatively easy to beat (yes, I realize the irony of this statement by him, being that he himself has an impossible to beat psychological issue). He whined and hemmed and hawed over me going on the patch, feeling it was an unecessary step in the road to quitting. I had to berade him over and over to buy it, stating that it was what I felt I needed to quit, and if I feel I can do it with the patch, shut up and buy the damn thing already! Finally, yesterday we went and got me a box, and I also picked up a bucket of licorice. I can't actually go the more common tootsie pop route, as the concentrated sugar in lollipops really hurts my teeth. Of course, I caught another round of shit for that. It fucking kills me, despite everything I've gone through in my life, I am apparently 'weak' in his mind for not being able to kick this habit on my own. Ugh, he better start hiding knives soon if he wants to live through this experience while maintaining such a pisspoor attitude. Ugh, husbands. Remind me when I am done going through this current level of hell in my life to completely kick his ass.
Oh, for those of you wondering why quitting was necessary for this, smoking impedes the healing process, as it thins your blood a bit too much for real clots to form, thus lengthening the time a wound takes to close. When you smoke while recovering from oral surgery, you risk a horrid condition called Dry Socket, which I've heard is akin to having your gums smashed repeatedly with a meat tenderizer. Also, since I will more than likely have an exposed sinus due to the wisdom tooth they are also removing, smoking could actually be even more dangerous on top of all the other reasons.
Sooooo...I was a day late in starting, but the process has begun! I smoked my last ciggy (I hope) last night, and woefully placed the circle of doom on my back. Honestly, waking up this morning and not smoking was weird, but with the patch on, not so bad. I even got through two cups of coffee without a serious craving. I always had a cigarette with my coffee, it was almost mandatory. Having now gotten through a few hours, it's a little more difficult, but I am still feeling fairly in control. Of course, I say this as I furiously suck on a piece of licorice. My dad says the first three days were the hardest. Which is fine, because it's only 6 days before I'll be in complete incoherency, so at least I have a deadline I can see to ease this nightmare and begin another one.
Oh, and to all my friends who have quit smoking before me, you are all my new personal heroes! I've known this day has neeeded to happen for quit sometime. I have a son, after all, and one whom I want to set a good example for. I smoked while I was pregnant, which is a horrible thing, and I still feel miserable to this day that I was so addicted to something that I did that. Oh, let's see, what else? It really is a disgusting habit. Your fingers turn yellow; your hair, body, and clothes stink; it's ridiculously expensive (and for what, seriously?), you can't get the smell out of your house; people look down at you...I could go on...but there's the obvious...It's friggin unhealthy as hell.
The only real hurdle I've had in dealing with this (and will more than likely continue to face) is my husband. Not exactly known for being Captain Supportive, he's been particularly brtual in regards to this. You see, yes, my husband smokes, but he smokes less than I do. I smoked a pack a day, whereas he was about at a half. But, being the person he is, he feels that the addiction is purely psychological, and thus relatively easy to beat (yes, I realize the irony of this statement by him, being that he himself has an impossible to beat psychological issue). He whined and hemmed and hawed over me going on the patch, feeling it was an unecessary step in the road to quitting. I had to berade him over and over to buy it, stating that it was what I felt I needed to quit, and if I feel I can do it with the patch, shut up and buy the damn thing already! Finally, yesterday we went and got me a box, and I also picked up a bucket of licorice. I can't actually go the more common tootsie pop route, as the concentrated sugar in lollipops really hurts my teeth. Of course, I caught another round of shit for that. It fucking kills me, despite everything I've gone through in my life, I am apparently 'weak' in his mind for not being able to kick this habit on my own. Ugh, he better start hiding knives soon if he wants to live through this experience while maintaining such a pisspoor attitude. Ugh, husbands. Remind me when I am done going through this current level of hell in my life to completely kick his ass.
Monday, July 11, 2005
A whore for the internet
I am a ridiculous whore for all things 'netty, and thus stole hubby's myspace invite and created my profile. I'm there, although I haven't done much exploring with the actual site. But if you are there too, then we are there...together! take the time to add me to a friends list, I feel so lonely.
Myspace profile
It looks like fun, although seems to be more oriented to those who are single and desperately looking for a hookup. Nothing wrong with that, just obviously not in my interest. Nevertheless, it's an amusing little corner of the net, and something to do. I haven't added much of anything to the profile save the initial crapola to fill out. And since I am currently quite pleased with my blog being here, I won't be starting one there, save to link back to this one (and the art blog, which seems to be dismally ignored in the way of readers as of late, feh).
Well, back to mommy duties, later folks!
Myspace profile
It looks like fun, although seems to be more oriented to those who are single and desperately looking for a hookup. Nothing wrong with that, just obviously not in my interest. Nevertheless, it's an amusing little corner of the net, and something to do. I haven't added much of anything to the profile save the initial crapola to fill out. And since I am currently quite pleased with my blog being here, I won't be starting one there, save to link back to this one (and the art blog, which seems to be dismally ignored in the way of readers as of late, feh).
Well, back to mommy duties, later folks!
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Oh Canada!
Well, we just got back from a lovely trip up to good ol' British Columbia. Since their whole 'province' thing confuses the hell out of me, let me rundown my vacation locale the best I can. We went to Sidney, which is a township on Vancouver Island (not the wild swinging Vancouver city everyone knows of, a quaint little island right off the coast). It's a few miles up from Victoria, home of the famous Butchart Gardens and such. It was a blast, I can tell you that. I mean, the ferry ride up really sucked. We found out en transit that the cafeteria wouldn't accept plastic, nor would they accept any canadian change less than $1 (I had about $5 in loose change from past meanderings, although only 2 actual dollar pieces). So, we managed to scrounge up what we could with my two Loonies and some loose american change to get ourselves two snickers bars, since neither Rick nor I had eaten anything all day. Anyways, we quickly scooted over to my grandparents house and had a surprisingly delightdul visit with them. This is always kind of a tricky thing, you see, as my grandmother in particular is notoriously tempermental and we tend to but heads like cracked up mountain sheep. But the whole trip, not even so much as a disagreement!
We went to a nice little casino there, too, which was a hoot. I guess it feels better frittering your money away when it looks like monopoly cash. We won, though, so it's all good! They don't drink in their casinos, though, not like us horrible americans. They have a 'cart girl' wandering the floor that has tea (of course), coffee, and pop. They also have huge buckets of wet naps everywhere so you don't soil your delicate fingers on the slot machines. Everyone there, right down to the dealers, had that bizarre niceness about them that you only think exists in movies. It was fun for a bit, but after a while you start to feel like you are in the twighlight zone.
Anyways, I won't bore you with the particulars of our little jaunt, save that everything is written in french and english, and their currency is ridiculously named, which caused my husband a great deal of amusement. I mean, come on, the 1$ piece is a Loonie, and the 2$ piece is a...you guessed it, Toonie. I mean, was their treasury head Yosemite Sam?! A country that so desperately wishes to be taken seriously, yet dress their police like a gay nazi designed the uniform and named their currency Loonies and Toonies. Ooooooookay.
And apparently they HATE smokers. not only did it cost $20 for two packs of camels (yes, I swallowed my toungue), but their warning labels are new and graphically improved so as to either shame or completely gross you out of smoking. I've attached a pic of my pack below, so you can see how freaky that is. And that's not the only choice you get, oh no, they;ve got a whole slew of different ones, so you can collect them like Pokemon cards or something. I mean, I thought the creepy brain matter on my pack was bizarre, but then I saw one with a deseased lung on it. GAH! Oh, and they also insert this little card in it that you see right as you open the pack, like it's still desperately screaming at you not to do the inevitable light up. It says "YOU CAN QUIT SMOKING!" and then goes on a little tirade about quitting. And I thought Canadians were supposed to be all nice and stuff!
We went to a nice little casino there, too, which was a hoot. I guess it feels better frittering your money away when it looks like monopoly cash. We won, though, so it's all good! They don't drink in their casinos, though, not like us horrible americans. They have a 'cart girl' wandering the floor that has tea (of course), coffee, and pop. They also have huge buckets of wet naps everywhere so you don't soil your delicate fingers on the slot machines. Everyone there, right down to the dealers, had that bizarre niceness about them that you only think exists in movies. It was fun for a bit, but after a while you start to feel like you are in the twighlight zone.
Anyways, I won't bore you with the particulars of our little jaunt, save that everything is written in french and english, and their currency is ridiculously named, which caused my husband a great deal of amusement. I mean, come on, the 1$ piece is a Loonie, and the 2$ piece is a...you guessed it, Toonie. I mean, was their treasury head Yosemite Sam?! A country that so desperately wishes to be taken seriously, yet dress their police like a gay nazi designed the uniform and named their currency Loonies and Toonies. Ooooooookay.
And apparently they HATE smokers. not only did it cost $20 for two packs of camels (yes, I swallowed my toungue), but their warning labels are new and graphically improved so as to either shame or completely gross you out of smoking. I've attached a pic of my pack below, so you can see how freaky that is. And that's not the only choice you get, oh no, they;ve got a whole slew of different ones, so you can collect them like Pokemon cards or something. I mean, I thought the creepy brain matter on my pack was bizarre, but then I saw one with a deseased lung on it. GAH! Oh, and they also insert this little card in it that you see right as you open the pack, like it's still desperately screaming at you not to do the inevitable light up. It says "YOU CAN QUIT SMOKING!" and then goes on a little tirade about quitting. And I thought Canadians were supposed to be all nice and stuff!
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Things that make me Happy
I realize that all too often I use this blog to vent my frustrations at the world, and often times come across as an anger filled vengeance demon. However, I am actually a pretty happy go lucky (albeit cynical) human being who tries to keep a fairly positive attitude dedspite the ridiculousness of the world around me. Just to prove said point, it's time to yet again list things! Although this is my list of things that make me happy. Enjoy, relate, disagree, whatever.
- Feeling my son's arms around me in a hug that I get just for picking him up. He has recently learned the word "UP" so I reward his utterance and get rewarded myself.
- Watching my son break into a giggle-fest for no reason at all. Maybe the air smells funny, I don't know, but it cracks me up every time. I am sure that laughing for no reason will later be a sign of deep psychosis, but in a two year old, it signals all is right in the world.
- Fresh Fruit. Nope, never been much of a health nut, but I friggin' love fruit. Ate it all the time while pregnant, and haunt Farmer's Markets still trying to get the biggest bag of Bing Cherries.
- Good Flavoured Coffee. Proof that I am not a health nut is my obsession with delicious caffeine. But even decaf makes me happy, if there's a hint of hazelnut.
- My cat's insistence on laying on my chest at night. Is kitty breath an annoyance to wake up to, being three inches from your nose? Yes, but it's still cute.
- Finishing a painting that took me a really long time. Considering my newest painting method obsession, most of my work is taking for friggin' ever, so all of it has become very rewarding. After all, if it only took me ten minutes, how is that an accomplishment?
- Finding awesome stuff at garage sales/thrift shops that I can turn into even more awesome pieces of work. I cannot buy something without tweaking it, it's in my crafting nature. But if I can find something I have desperately been wanting to play with for all of $2, then I am a giddy little thing.
- Nightmare Before Christmas. The movie and the vast amount of toys in my collection. The songs still make me tingle, and the toys remind me of how truely beautiful yet simple the movie is. Obsessed? Yup.
- Finding a genuinely nice person in the world. I am not talking about some guy, as I am quite married, I am speaking of just coming across decent people. It seems they are a rarity, so when I meet one, I do truely cherish that. To those wonderful people, and you know who you are, thank you for simply existing, and rekindling my hopes in the human race.
- A good glass of wine and a good book/conversation to go with it. It's the simple things in life that make me happy. So drink, eat, and be merry!
Monday, July 04, 2005
Christian Good Guys
Some people may think by reading my blog that I am an aethiest who completely hates all organized religion, particularly Christians. Well, now that's not true at all. Being raised quasi-catholic, I do hold to a highly spiritual belief system. I am quite a spiritual person, although I will only discuss my quirky system (which is technically without name, as it's more of an amalgamation of different theocracies) when asked by someone I feel isn't trying to persuade me, but simply open up conversation on the subject. See, I believe that one's relationship with their god is an intensely personal one, not needing to be shoved down the throats of those around them. I use God as a generic term, by the way. Perhaps I should say deity? Anyhoot...
As of late, it seems that the general 'Christian' populus, more specifically those fiends known as evangelicals, have done their darndest to throw our society back into the dark ages with their zeal to condemn lifestyles that do not meet their own definition of normal. Porn is bad, gays are evil, and no woman should ever have the right to decide to carry a child, that sort of thing. Lovely bunch they be. Heck, if they had their way, we'd all be wearing our little puritan outfits and hold mass every hour in classrooms across the country. Those who are not likeminded would quickly be stoned in the streets. So it's no wonder these folk raise my ire often, as they completely undermine the concept of free will and liberty for all. But, some christians still stick to the actual tenants of their Savior, the good Ol' all loving JC. Remember him, the hippy who liked everyone and condemned no one? Cool guy, try actually following in his footsteps sometime, seriously. Anyways...I recently came across an article that made me smile. It's sad that something so simple could bring so much hope, but these are the days we live in.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050704/ap_on_re_us/united_church_gays
So, there, a few good christians have actually wisened up to the fact that *gasp* gays are PEOPLE TOO! Good for them. No, for the rest of you, here's your homework assignment: The next time some backwards thinking moron with a cross to bear comes up and spouts the phrase "Jesus hates Gays", please recite the following gem of wisdom:
You know what Jesus hates more than Gays? Actually, nothing, because Jesus Christ didn't believe in hate for anyone. He was, however, deeply dissappointed in those closeminded few who held hatred and judgement in their hearts, for they were the wicked few who did not understand the meaning of God's love". So there, suck it you uptight and ignorant assholes.
As of late, it seems that the general 'Christian' populus, more specifically those fiends known as evangelicals, have done their darndest to throw our society back into the dark ages with their zeal to condemn lifestyles that do not meet their own definition of normal. Porn is bad, gays are evil, and no woman should ever have the right to decide to carry a child, that sort of thing. Lovely bunch they be. Heck, if they had their way, we'd all be wearing our little puritan outfits and hold mass every hour in classrooms across the country. Those who are not likeminded would quickly be stoned in the streets. So it's no wonder these folk raise my ire often, as they completely undermine the concept of free will and liberty for all. But, some christians still stick to the actual tenants of their Savior, the good Ol' all loving JC. Remember him, the hippy who liked everyone and condemned no one? Cool guy, try actually following in his footsteps sometime, seriously. Anyways...I recently came across an article that made me smile. It's sad that something so simple could bring so much hope, but these are the days we live in.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050704/ap_on_re_us/united_church_gays
So, there, a few good christians have actually wisened up to the fact that *gasp* gays are PEOPLE TOO! Good for them. No, for the rest of you, here's your homework assignment: The next time some backwards thinking moron with a cross to bear comes up and spouts the phrase "Jesus hates Gays", please recite the following gem of wisdom:
You know what Jesus hates more than Gays? Actually, nothing, because Jesus Christ didn't believe in hate for anyone. He was, however, deeply dissappointed in those closeminded few who held hatred and judgement in their hearts, for they were the wicked few who did not understand the meaning of God's love". So there, suck it you uptight and ignorant assholes.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Flags & Freedoms
Recently, someone commented on my blog, but this time it wasn't a pissed off snarky comment, nor was it from anyone I know (I think). I won't re-post this person's entire writ, if you'd like to see it flip back to the entry titled "Country Full of Idiots" in the November '04 archive.
Basically, it's discussing the right to burn our flag that is currently up for debate in the senate. For those out of the loop, the House once again cleared a constitutional ammendment to outlaw the burning of the US flag. It's not illegal yet though, as it still has to make it's way through the senate, where it currently flounders, as the exact number it takes to defeat the measure (34 in total) is the exact number of senators who've spoken openly against it. So, for now, you can still celebrate the 4th of July in this perverse manner.
Uh-oh...did I just hint that I agree with the republicans on this one? Well, now, no, not exactly. I feel that flag burning itself is pretty stupid. It says, to me at least, that you hate the entire country, what it stands for, the freedoms of it, the people who serve it, and perhaps desperately wish for true Anarchy to be instated. Well, if this is really how you feel, than by all means, LEAVE. I'm serious. In all honesty, I don't hate this country, just most of the people who live here (particularly those in the red states). I don't hate what it stands for at all, or at least, what it was originally intended to stand for by our forefathers. We were supposed to be an Isle of Freedom, non-persecution, and true Liberty. I absolutely cherish the freedoms we are supposed to have, among which would actually entail burning the flag in protest. As I've stated umpteen times, I strongly support our troops. I deeply respect what they chose to do, I just feel that the current government is dishonouring that choice by sending them on an increasingly failing mission. I don't, however, feel that anarchy is the answer to anything, what I do feel is that the current farse of democracy we are using is a joke and needs a serious revamp.
So, here's my deal. Burning the flag means you've given up all hope on this country. If you have, then burn away, but burn as you leave. Those of us who do care don't have time for your apathy. Those who gave up are the same assholes who didn't vote. So, bye bye. Now, for those of you who are saying, "Well, now wait, I still want to leave here, I just don't like what's going on, and this is my way of venting my frustration." Well, let me tell you, there's a better way. Your frustration comes from the fact that you do still like living here, right? Then, as I've said time and time again CHANGE THINGS! Get Fucking Involved. Don't just rant and rail and burn because you have pent up animosity. Write a fucking letter, sign or start a fucking petition. Find a group that shares your belief, and help them raise money for lobbyists. Do SOMETHING!
To date, we still have the freedoms to speak out against what our so called national leaders are doing. That is the real freedom. And, as a democracy, those leaders are still supposed to listen. And guess what? Some still do! As long as we still have certain liberties, we have the power to keep them. Our voices still, at the moment, can be heard. But if you aren't talking, then what's the point?
So, in short, yes, mama will be celebrating the fourth of july. I'll have my BBQ, my fireworks, and most importantly, my flag (unsinged). Why? Because this is still OUR country. So, let freedom ring.
Basically, it's discussing the right to burn our flag that is currently up for debate in the senate. For those out of the loop, the House once again cleared a constitutional ammendment to outlaw the burning of the US flag. It's not illegal yet though, as it still has to make it's way through the senate, where it currently flounders, as the exact number it takes to defeat the measure (34 in total) is the exact number of senators who've spoken openly against it. So, for now, you can still celebrate the 4th of July in this perverse manner.
Uh-oh...did I just hint that I agree with the republicans on this one? Well, now, no, not exactly. I feel that flag burning itself is pretty stupid. It says, to me at least, that you hate the entire country, what it stands for, the freedoms of it, the people who serve it, and perhaps desperately wish for true Anarchy to be instated. Well, if this is really how you feel, than by all means, LEAVE. I'm serious. In all honesty, I don't hate this country, just most of the people who live here (particularly those in the red states). I don't hate what it stands for at all, or at least, what it was originally intended to stand for by our forefathers. We were supposed to be an Isle of Freedom, non-persecution, and true Liberty. I absolutely cherish the freedoms we are supposed to have, among which would actually entail burning the flag in protest. As I've stated umpteen times, I strongly support our troops. I deeply respect what they chose to do, I just feel that the current government is dishonouring that choice by sending them on an increasingly failing mission. I don't, however, feel that anarchy is the answer to anything, what I do feel is that the current farse of democracy we are using is a joke and needs a serious revamp.
So, here's my deal. Burning the flag means you've given up all hope on this country. If you have, then burn away, but burn as you leave. Those of us who do care don't have time for your apathy. Those who gave up are the same assholes who didn't vote. So, bye bye. Now, for those of you who are saying, "Well, now wait, I still want to leave here, I just don't like what's going on, and this is my way of venting my frustration." Well, let me tell you, there's a better way. Your frustration comes from the fact that you do still like living here, right? Then, as I've said time and time again CHANGE THINGS! Get Fucking Involved. Don't just rant and rail and burn because you have pent up animosity. Write a fucking letter, sign or start a fucking petition. Find a group that shares your belief, and help them raise money for lobbyists. Do SOMETHING!
To date, we still have the freedoms to speak out against what our so called national leaders are doing. That is the real freedom. And, as a democracy, those leaders are still supposed to listen. And guess what? Some still do! As long as we still have certain liberties, we have the power to keep them. Our voices still, at the moment, can be heard. But if you aren't talking, then what's the point?
So, in short, yes, mama will be celebrating the fourth of july. I'll have my BBQ, my fireworks, and most importantly, my flag (unsinged). Why? Because this is still OUR country. So, let freedom ring.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
