Friday, January 18, 2008

Once Again, Another Stupid Meeting

I have today off, by some fluke.

Few people know that I work with children during the day. That just isn't WC's persona! Ah, but it is the Internet, where people can be whomever they want. And a nasty irascible personality on the Internet is exactly what I want to portray. It is my public profile. My private one - is entirely different, and nobody's damned business.

But today I was going to help out one of my organizations with some physical labor. Unfortunately also today is scheduled - in the middle of the morning - "an open meeting with the Legislative Delegation". Yeah, OK, sure - except only one ever shows up along with their mouthy, rude, loud, and crass Legislative Secretary. More importantly, it is all about them patting themselves on the back for all the hard work they're doing - and the only people who can show up, will show up, or do show up in the middle of the morning are two groups: The people who have to be there, and the people who have nothing better to do.

These idiots schedule stuff, time and again, at their convenience, not their constituents'. They could care less who works for a living - cause it's a cinch that they do not. The people who have to be there, are paid to go to these political boondoggles. They are people who work for politicians, and their income is assured. The people who have nothing better to do might run their mouths but really and truly could care less what happens, what their delegation represents, or what is going on in the world around them.

Meanwhile the one or two will frisk and smile and giggle and pat themselves on their backs for the world to see, accomplishing nothing, doing nothing, and praising themselves to the skies for it! Do I sound just a little bitter? Betcherass. The group that I volunteer for needs me to put my back into something real, something tangible, something worthwhile. But I'll be sitting in the tiny audience instead, dealing with political whores.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


Just had to put this in another blog.

I have a lot of friends whom I have never met. One of those is a famous writer, whom I met in 1999 on the Internet. She is completely warped and too funny. We don't send specious emails or cartoons back and forth - nope. We are serious about what we write and speak. We ultimately collaborated on a book together - one of my deepest darkest secrets, part of my secret life exposed. My name isn't on it, but it is there, on the 'Net, for all to see. No one needs to know that I contributed to it. No one needs to worry about royalties or other things - we did it for free, after many hours of long hard work and fighting, too. I can fight with friends when we never lose sight of our goals and purpose - I don't respect a friend who is so unprincipled that they will not fight with me.

Another old friend who used to be a famous (in Columbia) reporter and radio personality hooked up with me again. Turned out he knew my father, another famous SC newsman, and their lives had taken similar paths; John's in Columbia, Dad's in Charleston. We are tight, old buddies, and he has a daily webpage that he posts radical things on - things like fiscal responsibility and returning to the gold standard, and his reasoned responses to insanity in the news. We fell in with each other, and even though we have never met (we've tried, but it always fell through) we enjoy each other's writings. I've responded to his posts, and he's posted them right next to his own. Again, he is someone with whom I take pride in arguing.

We corresponded back and forth for awhile, and then he... he offered me space on his server. He wanted me to post future things on his website. Wow. To have someone whom you respect, almost revere, for his intelligence and brain function, for his toughness, his solidity, his firm, adamant, reasonable, confident truths, for his refusal to be swayed by either the fanatics of Conspiracy Theory or the emotional, passionate seduction of the "It's all right, we can fix it if we elect the right guy!" crowd; offer you space to share on his server, linked to his (nationally read) webpage is a very great honor. I'm floored. Overwhelmed. Not kidding. I know of no one else in the 15 years I've known him to have that honor - and there are a few who would be furious that it was proffered to me and not them. Ah, well.

All that said, isn't it funny that he and I have never had to sit down and share a real table, a real meal, a real conversation in "meat space", to know and understand and to respect each other?

I hated to do it

But I had to delete instead of publish a comment.

I believe in the right of free speech and intelligent discourse, and if people disagree (as long as they are not ridiculously stupid and therefore one of the people this blog is about) I'll let them comment aboard. Maybe even if they are ridiculously stupid, and exposing them to readers only makes them appear moreso... ahh, that's too deep for their shallow minds to grasp, and therefore still more fun. Blogging and forums should never be taken that seriously. One of my dear friends says it... if you think this is the real world, or even represents it, you are very much mistaken, and even more pathetic than you present on the Internet.

But that wasn't the problem. A fellow blogger posted a very nice personal message, and him I could not expose to the rest of the world who reads here. That would be wrong. So - since there was no way I could save it or reply privately - I deleted it. Dammit. That makes me nuts. Not because he said nice things - he did - because that doesn't matter. What mattered is that I have a responsibility to protect his identity, where he works, what he and I have in common, and thereby expose his beliefs. This is my blog, ridicule me all you want; but I can't let others be held up for ridicule or attack in their real lives - in what my old and dear 'Net friends call "meat space" - for what they put on here. Who knows who's reading this? His boss? His employees? Worse, his competition or his mortal enemy? My sense of honor won't allow it.

Sorry, dude... less qualifiers next time, please!

Moving on....

Saw the attorney today. Man, there is nothing better than having a good and trusted friend who also happens to be a real bastard of an attorney. Nothing gives satisfaction like sticking a sword in someone's gut who deserves it - unless it's having an attorney who is standing beside you with his sword buried in him, too; grinning like a mule eatin' briars next to you. We are winning! A little more and we will have won - at least an end of this battle. There is more, much more, to come, but the next battle's success was predicated on this one... And this one will be over, not in months, but weeks. Ahhhhhh. Love a good attorney who never takes one step back.

Honor and courage, and a real visceral pleasure in conquering evil, not just slapping it around, are what keep me fed. However, the slaps can give pleasure if they are done correctly. I have been doing a lot of plotting lately; it is after all an election year and my ire is in full swing - as is my brain. What fun I am having. A little word here, a little nudge there, a pat on a specific back, and a quick shared glance of pure mischief - and the damage is done, the usurper is standing there confused, still not knowing what the hell happened, while everyone laughs and points behind their graciously concealing hands. My favorite phrase - I don't know wherefrom it originates - is, "The one thing the devil cannot fight is laughter". When you laugh at him, he becomes confused, smaller, weaker, and more helpless. When you fear him, he grows stronger. When you fight him, you must be smarter, quicker; you must anticipate his every move - and then you bitch-slap him in front of everyone, so that he is left standing openmouthed and stunned. LOL Then you smile and walk away...

I'm getting a lot of bitch-slaps in this week, and it is so much fun! When you hear the chuckles from the back of the room, you know you've scored, reduced the devil to his proper place - a stumbling court jester. Too bad I can't do it at a national level - the elections and primaries would be over in one fell swoop of resounding giggles, as everyone came to their senses. Ah, well. Enough I do it where and when I can. Some I won't even get to watch - I simply set the process in motion, give someone else the tools, so that someone else can bitch-slap the devil, too. Can't be traced back to me - but I enjoy it all the same.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

A Manual for Suicides

I wrote something like this years ago. I am sick of all of the whiny people who want to kill themselves. Not the ones who are dying anyway, who want to avoid pain and the slow undignified diapered death. No, those people I really do feel sorry for.

This is for the ones who constantly threaten, who do it for attention, who insist that they deserve happiness and everything that they want without effort, who constantly go to ERs and EMS and friends and family and police officers and live their lives in a constant state of imminent Trauma.
Shut the fuck up and just do it. You're taking up my air.

How to Kill Yourself

A) How NOT to kill yourself

1) Do NOT call 911. The 911 operator has a protocol she must go through, that activates the police department (since self-murder is against the law, or you might be trying to take someone else with you), as well as EMS. EMS and the cops will hate you. Want to go out being hated? They will either stop you (which is what you really want, you worthless pile of garbage) or, if you are bleeding, overdosed, whatever, will immediately do some pretty gruesome and painful things to keep your sorry ass alive. No one from the poor beleagured dispatcher to the pissed off EMT who had to stop doing REAL work to come to you, will like you, respect you, or give a damn if you live or die. Keeping you alive is their job, no matter how much it galls them that some whiny pissant has to be kept alive when so many hardworking struggling decent folk are quietly and unremarkedly dying. Ask not for whom the bell tolls - they are hoping that you don't make it, that you finally are successful, so they don't have to see your whimpery whiny ass ever again.

2) Do Not pick a fight with someone so that someone else calls 911 just so you have an audience when you do it. The most memorable worthless shit I ever saw doing this was the gay woman (not that there is anything wrong with being gay per se) who found out that her girlfriend was leaving her, and instead of being rational and reasonable (which, if she was ever going to be/had ever been that way, would have saved the relationship) she trapped her partner in their bedroom, then stood outside the door, screaming and ranting and raving. She did this on purpose. The phone was in the bedroom and she knew her partner would use it to try to 'save herself'. She wanted attention, and lots of it, to her screaming whining self-righteous pain. She then proceeded to tell everyone she was going to kill herself - and displayed a spork. Yes, one of those serrated plastic spoons you get with your box lunch meals. The idiot bitch scraped the spork across her wrists, causing some deep and painful - but not life-threatening - scratches. (One of the cops in the back of the group held out his pocketknife to an EMT standing nearby and said quietly, "Wanna pass this to the bitch?") Yes, you might get a lot of attention - but when the cops finally take you down and haul you off for a psych eval, they will not ever respect you. Not that you know or are looking for respect. All you want is attention, and everyone in your pissed off, inflicted audience that despises you knows it. They don't hate you because you are gay - they hate you because you are a drama queen and are bothering them.

3) Don't lie. If you took pills, prove it. A simple blood test at the ER will prove that you took pills. If they or EMS have time and are not busy - and want to make sure that you learn a lesson - they will follow an exacting protocol, which involves giving you an emetic that makes you throw up all over yourself, and making you swallow some nasty charcoal to absorb the poison. It is so much more funny when you didn't really take anything. Serves your sorry, lying, whimpering ass right. One of our greatest pleasures was timing the emetic administration in the EMS wagon, so that as soon as you were escorted into the ER room and bed, THEN you would throw up. Saved on cleaning the floors of the ER and the ambulance. Takes some timing and skill, but MAN is it funny!

4) Do not use inappropriate or ineffectual tools. The aforementioned spork is just an example. Some jump off of heights that won't kill them, just cause broken bones or scar tissue. Some jump into cold water, not realizing that they will suffer a prolonged, gasping, shaking, and very painful death if they are not fished out. Unfortunately, some idiot usually fishes them out. The phony suicide then gets pneumonia and all of the attention s/he's demanding for several weeks. No one who has to take care of you through this likes you. No one respects you. No one really gives a shit if you live or die. Most wish you would die "Serves her/him right!". Everyone involved knows that you just did it for attention, and to have some power over them.

B. Why People REALLY threaten to kill themselves, and do it over and over.

1) Attention and Power. These weak little pissants have no power over others, can't get their attention any other way. They are insecure, can't make a rational decision, and flit through life like the ineffectual, selfish, self-promoting incompetents they are. The only control they ever have in their lives is to 'attempt' suicide, which forces other people, whether they like it or not, to pay attention to them.

2) Their lives are empty. They have no idea why. They don't understand - and never will! - that it is THEIR responsibility to fill up their lives with things that they enjoy. They don't understand that most people are not happy all of the time, but that they set goals and achieve goals and work toward what they want and where they want to be. Suicides don't plan anything - except whom they are going to dump on, inflict themselves on, next. They think that everything they want, that they feel they deserve, should be given to them - no matter how they treat, mistreat, or abuse people. Their whole lives are about them - their needs, their wants, their desires, their frustrations, their broken hearts and hopes and dreams. They have no interest in any one else's. Other people don't really exist to them - at all. They are pure selfishness.

3) They are drama queens and emotional vampires. Having no real purpose in life, and refusing to set one for themselves, the only and best one that they can come up with is to try to make other people as miserable as they. They want to feel some emotion, any emotion - and so they use the emotions of others to fill their needs. They use the excuses of liquor and drugs and failed relationships and mommy and daddy failing them, but for them, truly - everyone and everything has failed them. They are completely insensate of the fact that the only one who has failed them is - themselves. They have no problem with constantly lying to, cheating, or hurting others - they think that they have that right, because they are so put-upon. If they have kids, it is their kids' fault too. They are completely two-dimensional people, and think that everyone else is too. Suicides don't see people as human beings with hopes, wants, dreams, needs, and desires - except as those people can be used for their own self-gratification. They go thru friends, lovers, spouses, even children like fire through dry underbrush, never caring whom they hurt along the way, as long as their own needs are met. Then they wonder why "no one loves them".

C. How to do it.

Now that you realize just how worthless, insulting, and useless a suicide truly is, I will tell you the best, the most effectual way to do it.
First, CALL No ONE. Throw your cel phone in the toilet. Unplug your house phone and take the receiver off of the cradle. Make sure that no children are coming home to inadvertently find you. Tell no one what your plans are. Trust me, no one really gives a damn - they just do what society demands that they do. If you have pets or kids, make sure that someone is watching them "for a few hours" or the night, so that they don't discover you. Cats in particular are not friendly to dead bodies.

You will need - a bathtub, warm water, a bottle of good wine, a razor blade (NOT a safety razor - a real brand new sharp razor blade)
Fill a bathtub with comfortably warm, slightly above body temp water, til your skin tingles. (Bubbles optional.) Lie down in the tub. Begin drinking the wine, slowly and comfortably. When the bottle is half-empty, take the razor blade and - holding your arm UNDER the water - carefully cut down - NOT across - the bluish veins in your forearm, from about mid-arm (not in the bend of the elbow) to the wrist. DO NOT lift your arm out of the water. With your other hand, slowly finish the bottle of wine (sips, not gulps), lay back and let nature take its course.

Why to do it this way -
People who really want to kill themselves should do so and not bother anyone. No one should have to find your worthless body, especially your (or anyone else's) children. No one should have to put up with your screams, rants, and raves. Sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and do it. If the water is warm, and the blade is sharp, there is no pain as long as you hold your arm under the water. You won't have to worry about throwing up pills. You won't have to deal with last minute panic attacks - by the time you do what you've done, you won't be able to get out.

The best part of this is, that when they eventually find your body, there is minimal cleanup. All the coroner has to do is hit the bathtub drain, then lift your body into a body bag and carry you out. No muss, no fuss. No serious cleanup, throwing out of carpets, replacing drywall or flooring. No cutting down of hanging bodies. No extensive tools or even yardwork needed. No investigation (it's obvious). You're over, you're done, and you have what you say that you want.

Not that anyone who threatens suicide will ever in their lifetime do this. They are all about attention - and somewhere in the corner of their sick, desperate, mewling, pathetic, selfish and self-serving little brains is the realization that, if they ever DID off themselves, no one would have to put up with them, no one would be controlled by them, no one would have to listen to them any more.

Feel free to print this out and hand it to the next person who tells you that they are going to kill themselves. It's the only decent thing to do - for them, and for your own sanity.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Happy New Year.

Here I sit, sweatshirt and stretch pants, comfortable and warm and quiet.
Last night went to a bar with SigOther and Daughter. We had noisemakers and ticklers and all sorts of ribbons and bows and furbelows. We drank comfortably, talked comfortably, and hugged and kissed at midnight.
Now I'm simmering the pork to get it ready for the collards and hoppin john. The smell fills the house.
In spite of the fun of last nite - or maybe because of it - everyone is incommunicado, silent, except me. Me and Sasha, anyway; she missed me last night and wants to cuddle. A 65-lb dog that wants to cuddle is heavy and funny and silly to say the least!
Looking at my dream houses online. Then I went over to the South Dakota forum and did a ripping post for which I got immediate kudos. Nice to talk to people intelligently and in my own language - edumuficated - and have them respond in kind. Before the internet there were so few who understood my language or my meaning. Even the local forums can't reflect any light in their dim tunnels. But I can talk to people from all over the world and have a meeting of the minds. Nice.
This year is going to start off pretty wild, very quickly; but holding to the thought of escaping is helping me keep it together. A dream soon to be fulfilled; or as I told my best friend last week, I'll finally get what I've wanted since I was 14. It's not the dream he has, of course - he's always been on a different course from me and always will be. I no more understand his than he understands mine. But that's not why we are friends, so that's ok. I'll hate to leave him worst of all. Other people in my life have come and gone with barely a ripple, but what we put our minds and hearts into together, when everyone else thought we were crazy, bound us together as inseparably as duct tape. He brought me into his world for awhile, and I hated it but understood it was necessary. Now -not so much. The duct tape is fraying under the constant flow of my need to stop, slow down, take care of what's important to me. So we will peel apart at last; and even though he promises to stay in touch, I know better. But I pretend all the same, because to do otherwise would make him unhappy. And his world does not make me happy. Never has. Never will. It was simply expedient for the time. And the times they are a changin'.