off the grid: a slightly manic diatribe about the supreme court and my future plans
http://www.cnn.com/2010/POLITICS/01/21/supreme.court.analysis/index.html
I’m so appalled at this.
They are already corporate puppets, this just makes it clear that no one really cares.
So, how do you live outside the system?
Can you live your life in such a way that the government doesn’t matter?
Work under the table.Don’t get married. Don’t pay taxes. Trade goods and services. We need to invent a new economy, now and take our country back from the fairy dust they call money. Money isn’t power. Knowledge is power.
Clap if you believe this piece of paper has true value!
When everyone stops believing in it, then what? As we become aware of the constant assault on our minds from corporations, we also become numb to it. This can’t go on forever.
Oh wait, yes it can. The undereducated people breed more, and faster pumping out little consumers.
Dear Goddess,
I’ve been a good mommy for 12 years now. I’ve got 10 more before I can go live in my van again. I was ready for the revolution when I was 18. Hopefully, I’m still ready, but…can we just hold things together till I can get back off the grid? 2020 here i come.
kthxbai
holly
I worked st the store from the last week of September and now I sadly find myself unemployed again…the last 2 months have been…entertaining.
Now that I can’t lose m job for revealing the secrets of m work[lace, I can tell the story, all the sex, drugs a ridiclosness
i can’t wait…
i
I have everything I need, and most of what I want.
I have survived and thrived. I always will, you may count upon that.
And I will always, forever have the last laugh,
because I can laugh at myself and you can’t.
I’m QUEER!
Happy coming out day
-None of your business
-Go outside and play
-This is for adults, not children
-Because I said so. … Read More
BUT! And this is a HUGE BUT! The authors of the Forbes article are confusing Genx moms refusal to lay down and die after they reach 30 as being evidence of their immaturity. I don’t WANT to ‘grow up’ and wear dockers and shit. I don’t want to stop trying new things. I don’t want to stop being a sexual being. I love my kids, but they aren’t how I define my existence.
And FYI, Gen X is never going to ‘grow up’ as long as the boomers are still alive. This generation has lived their whole life in the shadow of the massive narcissistic clot of the Boomers that has shaped our lives, sucked up our resources, and stymied our opportunities. . If you want to know “why 40 is the new 20″, look at your mom at 40. Does that look like something you want to be? For most Gen Xers, it doesn’t. We are the eternal sulky teenagers, pissed that mom and dad are still calling the fucking shots, just because of the pure numbers of them.
Sometimes, I look at my search history and become concerned about my mental health.
Things that appeared in my Google search history this morning:
bloggess
mike the headless chicken
headless chicken festival
lesbian festival
slang for heroin
urban dictionary
pygmy jerboa
FML
married to the sea
jellyfish
columbus cratfs
columbus crafts indie
lazy sunday
Having a conversation with a friend the other day and this came up. This word, this concept. SLUT. My friend is much younger, almost 1/2 my age and Irealized suddenly that this word really has meaning in her life.
It did in mine, at that age. And much younger. In fact, it was often the defining characteristic I thought of as being mine. I was not the jock, not the stoner, I was the slut. Just found some people I knew from j.r. highon Facebook.. Oh my, what a hot mess. Between 5th and 6th grade I moved to Dayton. I was nothing short of tortured by my new classmates. I was miserable, funny looking and depressed AND my parents were having a nasty divorce.
The summer bettween 6th and 7th, the titty fairy came and I was suddenly a pretty girl. Puberty was kind to me and makeup was my salvation. Boys were interested and I had power for the first time in my life. I had also an uncomfortable awakening to girls that summer, (o softball fields, my young heart laid at first base and my dreams were sweaty girls with broad shoulders) I had to lot to prove to my inner homophobe. When I was 16 my dad told had the sex talk with me; his explanation of getting to 1st base, 2nd base 3rd base was acutely embarassing and woefully late; By the end of 7th grade, I had worn a groove in home plate, by the end of 8th I was a switch hitter.
You know when you say a word over and over until it has no meaning, or starts sounding foreign? That is the word slut. I heard it daily. every day. Jr high, high school. slutslutslut until it sounded like an chocolate ice cream cone hitting the floor. :slut:
I took women’s studies in college and it opened my eyes to sexual politics, double standards, and the concept of being sex positive. Putting in it’s place the Judeo Christian slutshame that only belongs in that company and most certainly doesn’t belong in THIS head. I read about the sacred ancient temples where whore/priestesses served Goddess through anonymous and sacred sex, of healers that in ancient times used their powers and were consdiered holy.
Who ever thought that loving freely was a bad thing?? Who took the most natural thing in the world and made it evil?
Rooting out that demon, putting the disapproving white bearded GOD in His place in my head, putting Him out of the shame business in my life was the heathiest thing I have ever done.
I’m a lover; a skilled, funny, healing, empathaic, dextrous, sensual, wild and unforgettable one. You can call it a slut, if you want.
Just had a fascinating conversation with the kiddos about family. We are a quintessentially 21st century family. My kids have 2 different dads, a gay mom, a gramma who won’t marry her longtime manfriend, various exes of mine that are considered Aunties and Uncles…
So Zilla asks me a simple question, “what is Rich to me?”
Now Rich, usually referred to in my blogs as babydaddy1, is a dear friend, an ex and the father of my son. In other words- He is *no relation* to my daughter.
But, that doesn’t make sense to our hearts, and from that question we explore the rest of our family. We talk about our innovation; I have recently discovered I have approx 13 half sibs. Technically, there are just as much relation to me as my son and daughter are to each other…but i have never met any of them, only spoken to one, once on the phone.. are those relationships equal? Of course not. Somewhere out there. I have never met her, never seen her- she has the same father..is she my sister, is she your Aunt or is Gabby? Gabby is! Julie and I aren’t married; she is *no relation* to my children…does she feel like a stranger to you? NO, we love her!
And my point is made.. Love, not biology, makes a family.
That’s why i love the word Te’Sorthene. English just doesn’t have words to describe my family. It didn’t have a word for email either 30 years ago. Times change and with it language and hopefully people, will evolve.
I just twittered a link of the Day about the advances in neuroscience that have been made in regards to proving that being homo is NOT a choice, it’s a chemical thing and we can’t help it.
I see all these studies, and all this fascinating research and honestly it makes me cringe. I don’t want to know that sexuality is predetermined, even partially.
On one hand, it would make everything so much easier. I was born this way- Its not in my hands. I’m bald or I have blue eyes, it just IS. On the other hand, I wish in a visceral way they would stop even trying to find a ‘reason’.
I want it to be a choice, so as a culture we actually asre forced to confront the judeo christian/american conflict and err on the side of reason. I want the US as a country to have to look at it’s people and it’s laws and put the rules of 2000 years ago aside in favor of reason, compassion and freedom.
I don’t know, I resist the inquiry of science int o this. But.. but.. I know people that have been very close to me that were never in any doubt about their homosexuality. Shannon (RIP) ‘looked’ queer as hell, at 8. My friend N., my mom called him out when he was 11. It just was a part of their character. How much easier would their lives have been if that was ‘ok’. I have always maintained it was a choice for me, but then I look at my ‘digit ratio’ and it shows (i think) clear markers for the ghey.
I guess I worry that after finding a cause, they will want to find a cure. But what a huge loss to civilization that would be! Is it wrong to wish they would just not be in such a rush to figure it out? I would rather they wait until more people would no more consider ‘curing’ homosexuality than ‘curing’ blue eyes.
Honestly, I would like the bigots to choke on my choice, before giving anyone an opportunity for pity.
I was born in 1973, to a single mom. My mom had been briefly married to a man, and despite being pronounced sterile, she got a mysterious swelling in the belly region. She felt awful, and went to her doc afraid she was dying- the doc says, ” so what are you going to name your tumor?” (For the purposes of this story we will call my sperm donor Two; it will become apparent why in a moment. )
Mr. Two was…not pleased is the best I can do here without airing mom’s dirty laundry and she left Lousiana and went home. She had me, lived with her parents and went to school. She met a nice teacher there, married him and he adopted me, the poor fatherless wretch that I am. When I was 6 months old, Mr. Two came to Ohio to collect his ’son’ but mom met him in the driveway, explained that “Michael” was stillborn. He went on his way and was never seen again. I never met him, he has no idea i exist. My last name changed when I was adopted and that was that.
Yesterday, I was reading something and saw a last name similar to my birth name in an article. So I did a little internet snooping and found an obit for what was certainly my grandmother. Her husband had the same name, and the obit also had city and state for her surviving son.
One=Grandfather
Two=Father
and then…I kept coming up with another man, with the same name, same spelling. (which is very unusual) but this man was only a few years older than me. After talking to my mom, I guess that this man was Three, my half brother.
So I found him on FB and emailed him asking if I could ask a few questions.
I talked to him this morning, I really didn’t know how to drop this info on his head. I asked if he knew his dad, or knew much about him. He didn’t really, and I guessed “Because your dad ran out on your mom when you were little?” I think he was a bit weirded out by this, so I finally just told him- I am your half sister. See, he is older than me- his dad would have to have run out for me to exist. Talked to him this morning, hopefully more later. But it’s confirmed with names/dates/etc. So ..?
So yeah, this story is just starting, but wow…
The biggest news is that there are others- other half siblings. At least 2-3 more.
Two must have been one smooth talkin dude.
I think we should round up all the sibs and film a PSA about condom use.
The scene: a creepy foggy night
The house is surrounded by men and women who vaguely resemble each other.
The front ddoor creaks open and an old man peers out.
The ring of people closes in saying Daddy Daaaaaddddy DAAAADDDYY…the old man flees into the night screaming Noooooooo!!!! I should have used a condom!!!!!
