Elliot Rodgers, The Pick Up Artist Sites, and Preying on the Vulnerable

This past weekend, a young man in California decided to go on a killing rampage because he felt that he needed revenge on the people who were popular, having sex, or depriving him of the sex that he was entitled to.

He was obviously imbalanced and in need of help, which his family, much to their horror, was not able to get for him in time.

Feeding his imbalance and heightening his rage were internet sites such as "The Pickup Artist," and other men's dating sites. The purpose of these sites is to make getting a "girl"or a "bitch" to have sex with seem like a nearly impossible, failure-ridden game that insecure, imbalanced men need to spend money on CDs and DVDs to finally have a hope of bagging a babe.

These sites strip it down to women being these horrible creatures that are constantly "judging" your worthiness as an alpha male and ready to reject you as fuckworthy with esoteric and unknowable reasons, that you can ONLY figure out with their patented "Game Plan."

I have a close relative (somewhere on the asperger's scale and very gullible) who falls for this sort of angle, and it has caused him no end of anxiety and fear-filled anger towards all women, including myself.   Here is an excerpt of one of the newsletters that he forwarded to me, that he honestly felt might be the way to finally get a woman to date him because it came from "a community of experts:"

From doubleyourdating.com

• Why Women TEST You -- How to Respond
  MPORTANT: If you find yourself "failing" the tests that women throw at you, then the problem is probably worse than you think. If you've found yourself getting upset when a woman flakes out on you... or not knowing what to do when a woman challenges you... then you should take a few minutes and look at THIS right now: 
  
  
• HOW DO WOMEN TEST MEN?
  For most guys, the concept of a woman "testing"
  them seems a little strange.
  Why would a woman WANT to test a man?
  What could she possibly gain from it?
  The answer: A LOT.
  By testing a man, a woman can learn THE MOST
  IMPORTANT thing about him...
  And I'll share what that is a little bit later
  
• !  on in this newsletter.
  TEST: A DEFINITION
  So I was thinking about this particular topic
  today, and I realized that I've never looked up the definition of the word "test."
  When I did, here's what I found:
  1. A procedure for critical evaluation; a means of determining the presence, quality, or truth of something; a trial; a test of one's eyesight; subjecting a hypothesis to a test; a test of an athlete's endurance.
  

"WHY WOMEN TEST MEN, AND WHAT TO DO WHEN IT HAPPENS TO YOU..."
Women test men.
That's the reality of the situation.
Women test men RIGHT FROM THE BEGINNING, and
they keep on testing FOREVER.
If you don't know how to deal with the tests
that women throw at you, you have VERY LITTLE

2. A series of questions, problems, or physical responses designed to determine knowledge, intelligence, or ability.
3. A basis for evaluation or judgment: "A test of democratic government is how Congress and the president work together" (Haynes Johnson).
OK, so take a moment and read those again.
The purpose of a test is to figure something out. It's a way of getting "true" information about something.
So back to my earlier question... Why do women test men in the first place?
BECAUSE THEY HAVE TO.
If you walk up to a man and say "Hey, how much money do you make?" he can LIE.
If you ask him if he is good in bed, he can LIE.
If you ask him if he's strong enough to deal with the challenges of life, support a family, and reach his goals, he can LIE.
Are you with me here?
In other words, if you get to the end of one of your college courses, the teacher COULD just ask you if you have a comprehensive understanding of the material you learned during the course.
But you could LIE.
So the teacher gives you a TEST to see if you REALLY know what's going on.
Well, in the same way that teachers test students, women test MEN.
And that means YOU, Sparky.
But there's one LITTLE TEENSY WEENSY difference between the kinds of tests that women give you and
the kinds of tests that teachers give you...
Women don't tell you first... that they're going to test you!
And they don't teach you what you need to know BEFORE they test you.
They just do it.
Right when they meet you.
Within the first few seconds, actually.
Why?
Because women don't have the TIME to deal with
all the guys who are interested in them.
And they're not interested in getting together
with a man who doesn't "get it" in the first

place.
Beautiful women aren't looking for a guy to
TRAIN.
And the tests don't stop... by the way. If you meet an attractive, interesting,
emotionally healthy woman, you can expect to be tested until either:
1) The relationship ends.
! 2) You or she DIES. 

And it goes on. And on. Holy hell, it's awful.

The writer does an excellent job at finding their audience--the guy who lacks confidence or fears rejection-- and preys on his anxiety and fears. The picture they paint would create in anybody a good bit of anger towards women, and create a wish to beat them into submission.  Hell, I felt emasculated and angry just reading it, and I'm a woman!  What were these unknowable creatures that constantly are judging and rejecting?  

Why, one must buy a CD or DVD that explains these horrible monsters and how to beat them, (literally maybe) at their "game!"

At these sites, women are not human.  Women are objects, monsters,  monoliths of endless Judgement and Scorn.   They in no way approach reality of anything to do with actual women.  These sites prey upon male insecurities, magnify supposed failures of "beta" men to please these impossible pretend women-monsters.  They encourage misogyny with the goal of taking money from the gullible and as an added bonus,  justify and celebrate rape culture with  their "success" stories.

The rampage this weekend is tragic, but not an isolated outburst from someone who has taken this sort of "training" and heightened his rage instead of "making progress." Most of the acting out of their rage is on individuals, and it happens every day.  Follow Twitter #yesallwomen and see thousands of stories of women who deal with misogyny every day, and you will see a number of stories pertaining to men who take the "advice" of these sites seriously, with disastrous results.

Personally, I saw it with my relative.  The more he read these sites, the stranger his correspondence with me was--progressively angrier, always expecting and projecting horrible judgement that I must be heaping on him at every opportunity for things I was not aware of, since I live several states away.  It was crazy.  Finally, when I was home for Christmas, he physically became violent with me when I warned him not to take colloidal silver internally, since it was only for topical use.   Not exactly fighting words, right?

After this, I had to cut off all contact with him.  This is a close relative, so it was painful to deal with.  Eventually I let him be a Facebook friend, with limited access to my page, but that was it.  Now we don't even have that, since he shut down his account due to someone taking money through his Facebook or something?  I haven't questioned it too closely.  Shortly after he closed his account, emailed me an article about something, I made the mistake of commenting on it, he took offense, feeling once again that I was condemning him instead of just expressing an opinion, and I realized that he is still living in a world of fear, anger, and anxiety and is looking for someone to blame. 

I have no idea if he is still reading these pick-up artist sites, but if he is, he will go off again on someone.  It won't likely be gun and knife rampage, it may not even be other-directed, but I fear he will go off.

My father feels this too, to some extent.  Since this relative has moved back to his area, he has not wanted me to visit.  I have been essentially exiled from the family home because he is afraid of another violent outburst. 

Preying on the vulnerable is a crime, and it has consequences for men and women, individuals and families.  PUA sites should not escape culpability for this and other crimes that they perpetuate.  They are truly evil entities.

Year Three

My mom passed away 3 years ago in August.

Mourning has gotten easier, or at least more compartmentalized.

I have long since stopped tearing up when I unload the dishwasher with no one to call on the phone, or when I walk around the garden, or slice a home-grown tomato.   I can walk around the mall on Mother's Day and not frighten store employees when I'm surprised by a sudden sob while watching people interacting sweetly with their mothers in ways they take for granted.

I still steel myself against sadness when the spring comes.  It's not that spring is sad, but that it was my mother's favorite season.

She hated winter, when what little amount she could walk was made treacherous and slick, and she felt shut in by weather and her withered leg.  Winter is dark, and her life had shadows that grew too easily in the dark. Alone and confined, they threatened to engulf her.

But she loved the spring; green things, the new beginnings, the lengthening light.  She poured over seed catalogs and saved her energy for the garden center,  and for pointing out where to plant  things to my brothers.

The growth of the new beginnings was nurtured into the summer, and the plants would thrive and the backyard became a well-tended jungle.  I used to laugh when she'd declare that she was going to go out "looking at her crops" growing in the 10 x 10" space where she grew her vegetables.

Now I find myself doing the same thing (without the announcement) going out to watch the garden grow.

And I find myself breathing in through my mouth, as though inhaling her cigarette, filling my lungs from the bottom,  and breathing out through my mouth and nose, wondering if people start smoking to have an excuse to breathe so deeply.

August arrives. This is my month of sorrow, where most of my sadness sits, reminding me of its presence in a way that doesn't express itself the rest of the year.  This is the month that has not lost its psychic hold, and all the sadness gathers in a light ring of wetness around eyes and sorrow presses inside my chest.  My sense memory is mixed with the heat of the summer, the smell of the air. My frantic drive to Ohio on my own, hoping to be able to talk to my mom one last time before she left comes back to me with an immediacy that takes my breath away.

I did get to talk to her.  And she went so soon after.  It was all so, so fast.   The shock still resonates.

But resonance transitions from sound to echo.  It's still there.  I know it's there. But it's easier to not hear it all the time.

Women Onstage and Directing. It's a Thing that Needs to Happen a Lot More Often.

First off,  I just want to thank Geoffrey Nauffts for writing the wonderful play, "Next Fall" that I just closed a couple of weekends ago with the Village Theatre Guild.  We had a top notch cast and crew and the audiences loved and raved about the play and our performances.  It was material that was a delight to make come alive, and I am in show mourning because it is over.

It's great, though, to go on to the next thing, and look for something to match or replace the experience, or to create something new.  My experience lately, though, is so disheartening to me as a woman and a theatre-goer.

I look at the Chicago theatre listings and see nothing but calls for men, and a smattering of women roles.  And when I say smattering, I mean, like, on average,  21 parts for men, 6 parts for women, any age or phenotype.  And of those numbers, a fair number of the parts for women do not have much to do with the actual driving force of the plots of the plays, but are almost superfluous to them.

Sure, there are only 2 women in "Next Fall," but at least they were well written and important to the play.  There was meat in those parts that were essential to drive the action forward.

Many times in the past couple of years,  a part for a women in my age range will come up, one that could be fairly meaty, and they decide to gender-bend and have the part played by a man, to be "edgy." Because men need more parts, right?

It just seems to be getting worse, and despite the women-centric theatre companies out there like the 20% Theatre Company and Babes with Blades trying their darndest to get women's writing and women's parts out there, the disparity is maddening.

I ran across an excellent article about this very subject here, and felt vindicated, somewhat. It isn't right, and it hurts the viability of live theatre when it doesn't truly live up to the needs of the core audience.  The key section:

"Now, are we story-telling artists catalyzing a better world, or are we tractors hauling the old guard forward? Are we defining our age or merely maintaining the status quo?

I’m not saying all theater needs to address this issue, and if it does, that it be with serious, frowning faces. Feminism can be fun, funny, heart-warming, thrilling, suspenseful, and poetic. We needn’t be righteous to be right. We can still have fun, and entertain, and do the great old plays of yore. But for the love of god, if theater’s stats on women are as bad as the US Congress’s, then we are not doing our art right.*

This is happening in London theater too, as this article from The Guardian presents:

This failure to represent women, argued the actor, writer and director Stella Duffy, was deeply entwined with society’s wider failure to put women’s voices on an equal footing with men’s. A sense of responsibility to the world was, she said, being ducked—particularly by our larger national stages. In an impassioned blog post, she wrote: “When we do not see ourselves on stage we are reminded, yet again, that the people running our world (count the women in the front benches if you are at all unsure) do not notice when we are not there. That they think men (and yes, white, middle-class, middle-aged, able-bodied men at that) are all we need to see.

This wouldn’t be as deeply infuriating if the audiences for our work weren’t decidedly female. Seventy percent of theater ticket-buyers are women and at least sixty percent of the audience members in every theater are women. And yet our female-driven audiences are, over and over again, given male-driven stories, written and directed by men.**"

- See more at: http://www.howlround.com/we-are-not-a-mirror-theater-must-lead-with-women%E2%80%99s-stories#sthash.4eINNP2U.dpuf

She goes on to say that theaters need to look at their programming with a stronger eye towards gender parity, both in the play itself and it's directorial and backstage staffing.

It makes sense to me.  Theatres are struggling to get audience members engaged, to get more butts in the seats, to create meaning to their work.  How can this truly be part of their mission if they dismiss and demoralize the majority of their audience?

I am waiting for the Fed Ex person to come by with my replacement phone.  My near-new phone suddenly stopped being able to have me hear or respond to calls unless I am on speaker-phone mode, so that is sort of important, if I ever need to have a private conversation.

Luck is not with me when it comes to smart phones.  I think I have had to have each one of them replaced within the warranty timeframe, and some models several times.  I don't think it's me.

Anyway, this gives me time to type and think, and expound on what has been going on here, and why I am such a terrible blogger.

Perhaps I just don't have it in me to be an essayist, mostly because I don't remember to keep a list of topics to expound upon at the ready.  This is probably the way to go about it, so I will come up with some and someday, there will be an essay.  Booya.

Anyways,  I am finally in a play again,  and I love it.  I had a whole year off from live theatre, and I find I really missed it.

I play the part of Holly, the best friend of the main character.  The play is very funny, very sad, and really is one of those,  "You'll laugh, You'll cry, and afterwards, you go out with friends and talk about it for hours" kind of plays.  Click to embiggen.

You should go see it.

Romneyshambles and the Evil Robot Ryan

Question: How many more "darkest hours" can Mitt Romney's campaign have?  The campaign is incompetent, they have a daily campaign reset/career-ending gaffe du jour,  the candidate is a cartoon of an evil, arrogant boob of a rich guy, and the vice presidential candidate is an Ayn Rand acolyte that can't stop lying even if it's about his body fat. As an added creepy bonus for me, Paul Ryan's empty eyes remind me of the evil robot on Queen's "News of the World" album that freaked me out as a child:

 

So even if he talked sense at all, I still wouldn't be able to bring myself to vote for him.  However, he keeps spouting about his Plan for Prosperity that amounts to "Fuck you, you're on you're own.  Rich people get more money." Today he was lying about what he would do on day one of the Romney presidency--getting rid of the contraception mandate.  Which is amazing, because vice presidents do not have that sort of authority.  They can only bang the gavel to start sessions of congress, and occasionally break a tie.  Oh, yes, Fox News, this is a 'really serious young man.'  Because we are dumber than shit and we totally are afraid of the scary black man. 

The thing is, they have looked so bad, I almost feel sorry for them.  Fortunately, there is no such thing as a pity vote from me when it comes to the office of President.

Finding Family and other thoughts

This has been a pretty good summer so far, personally. Can't complain. The garden is doing well, I am getting a lot of great time with the boys, and a lot of stuff we have meant to do around the house is getting done. We finally got the house re-roofed, and replaced our 20-year-old washer and next week, the ancient non-functioning oven.

My husband has been tracing his family tree for about a year and is making some significant progress. It's very challenging because once they worked their way back to the crossing to America, finding records in rural Poland and Czech and Slovakia is problematic. A few weeks back, he encouraged me to trace mine as well, so I started with my Mom's side, since most of the info on www.familysearch.org is American records. I was surprised to make it back within a day of searching to relatives going back to 1805 in rural Kentucky. They didn't move much, apparently. Now I am to relatives that were born in Bath, but actually, I am not sure if that refers to Bath, England or Bath, Kentucky. The census record didn't say. I may start looking into ship records. So far, I have not found our Native American ancestor. It may go way back. I have only looked at the direct descendants, but I am interested in finding the connections to our supposed famous relatives, Newton D. Baker (Secretary of War under Calvin Coolidge), Robert Montgomery and his daughter, Elizabeth (actors.)

Suddenly, an amazing turn of events! In some sort of serendipity, I was contacted by cousins in Scotland, wanting to know if I would be able to add to their tree and be able to connect to theirs! I was so EXCITED! My grandmother (father's mother) was from Scotland, and my Dad was speaking fondly of his cousins there and wondering if it was possible to find out if they were still in Scotland and still alive. Indeed they are, and they sent me several pictures of my grandparents and my Dad and my uncle that were in their records. It was so thrilling to me! The pictures were scanned in beautifully, and all of them were new to me. I have to connect to Ancestry.com to get to their tree, and that is going to be SO cool. I am looking forward to it.

Little Bits and Bites of my Life Lately

I have been delightfully busy, and I am remiss in my writing this year. I shall endeavor to be more bloggy, because I will soon have some time for it again.

First off, I have been working on a project for the Department of Natural Resources and the National Park Service regarding the Ice Age Trail in Wisconsin. It's a 1200 mile long trail that shows off several geologic formations created where the glaciers were thousands of years ago. I filmed a couple of weeks ago the first half of the journey, and we are doing the second half all next week. It has been an excellent experience so far, and I have really enjoyed seeing Wisconsin's excellent park system, and all of its natural beauty. I am also working with just about the nicest group of crew and fellow actors that one could hope for. I look forward to this coming week!

Auditions worth doing theatre-wise are also starting to pop up again in better numbers, which is great, because for a long time there was a drought of decent material in my age group and gender. I had a great audition last week where I got a really excellent response to my audition, but I haven't heard back yet. It happens. What is meant to be is meant to be. At least it was memorable.

The back was giving me terrible troubles in February and March, but, knock on wood, it seems to be truly on the mend again. Sciatica sucks, and it also drains you if interest in life. During this bout of back issues, I discovered that if I take ibuprofen for too long, my hair starts falling out. That was interesting.

On a sad note, I was put "on hiatus" at my day job a few days ago. I am still just a contractor, and as such, I am the easiest to let go when things look bad, and easiest to call back when needed. And things are looking bad--really bad. They hope to call me back when things pick up again, but right now, I don't think I will be back in a few months like they hope.

You would think this would bum me out, but I am actually excited about it--looking for a new job sucks, but I have some great new leads already. In the mean time, I have house and writing projects that really need some management. And the boys are out of school soon, and I would like to spend some quality time with them. This lemon is going to make some excellent lemonade.

I know too many people like this.

Teenagers are Impressive

I have been working as an educator of sorts for over 30 years. This sounds like I am all grey haired or something, but I started as an early teen, so I am only mildly ancient.

When I was 13, I started volunteering at the local science museum, Center of Science and Industry (COSI). I was immediately was taught how to work with the public answering science questions, performing shows on science topics, and basically showing off with my huge, science-geeked teenage brain. I learned quickly that it I didn't know something, go look for the answer immediately--knowledge must not be faked. I learned it was okay to say, "I don't know, let's go find out." I got to run around in a lab coat, and wear a round badge with my name on it. I got to look like an adult, and I was thrilled when someone called me, "Ma'am." The first few shows I did were in and around a weather station, and included cool stuff like making clouds in a bell jar, cooking hotdogs in a parabolic mirror with the sun's rays and shooting pencils at 125 mph at blocks of wood through a tube to simulate the force of a tornadic wind. Later, I got to help create a show collaboratively on earthquakes, tornadoes and continental drift called "Shake, Rattle and Roll." This show had a grand finale of making a volcano that was lit with a magnesium strip, shot sparks and more than once got the carpeting smoldering. I was very proud of it.

I felt I had really made it at the museum though, when I was entrusted with helping to run the planetarium. They had a 1964 Spitz planetarium machine that was reportedly worth $250K, but looking back I really don't know what they paid for it. All we knew, was it was delicate, it fell apart easily, and changing its halogen lightbulb was devilishly difficult and could only be done by one of the adults. Learning how to work the planetarium was only allowed to a chosen few, because it was one of the most popular of the exhibits in the museum. All the shows effects were all orchestrated manually, and it took some dexterity to make it all look automated. One show had over 93 manual cues, and it was only a half hour long. Doing this 9 times or more in a day, and it was not surprising that if I was the only volunteer on duty, with one supervisor popping in from time to time for breaks, I would get sweat stains in the armpits of my lab coat.

Looking back, I can't help but be grateful for the amount of trust and leadership that the museum staff gave its volunteer force of teenagers. We truly did run that museum on the weekends and in the summer time. It couldn't have been done without us, and we were so proud of work experience it gave us--and the freedom to succeed or fail in being awarded new responsibilities.

In college, I got a paying gig as the weekend supervisor of the planetarium, and as one of the weekend overnight camp-in staff. I worked with a lot of volunteer teens, and I gained a new appreciation for how to work with them to gain their trust, and get their input on how to make science exciting for them and the thousands of visitors and scouts we had going through the programs.

I graduated and moved away, but whenever we go back to visit, COSI is always one of the places we must stop by.

Fast forward to about nine years ago--a fellow actor in a show I was in mentioned that he worked as a speech coach at a local high school, and they would love volunteers to work with team. Having also been a former high school and college speech geek, as well as a working actor, I jumped at the chance to see if I could work with them. It sounded like a blast.

I interviewed with the head coach, and she said, "You're not volunteering--I'm hiring you!" And I have been happily working with them ever since.

It's a part-time thing. The stipend is nice, but it isn't commensurate with the amount of hours we put in. However, a lot of us have been coaching for many years, and it's because we love it, and we truly enjoy our kids. I am sure my experience as a teen volunteer who was trusted and guided has some influence on my happiness in being able to coach and interact with the kids on the team.

The best thing about working with teenagers, is the amount of "brain explosion" that is going on in their lives. I mean this in a great way--I swear sometimes when I am working with a kid, I am watching neurons connecting and expanding their capabilities at lightning speed right before my eyes. Their ability to change and adapt and learn thrills and boggles my mind.

I love watching year to year, the freshmen novices evolving from uncertain, clueless little kids to seasoned, poised, and focused varsity members. You cannot judge a person by what he/she is like as a freshman. They change into new people every year, and in four years, you barely recognize them as the same person. It's so fun to watch.

I rejoice in the child who goes to every tournament, but doesn't break into finals for three years--then in her fourth year, figures it out grandly, and ends up being the only one on the team that makes it to State. That child has learned tenacity. That child has learned that hard work makes it happen.

I rejoice in the kid who decides to join the speech/debate team even though he has only been speaking English for 18 months. I admire his hard work and tenacity and rejoice when he starts getting top ranks. That child has learned so many things, but mostly that his ability to overcome adversity is a formidable gift.

I get frustrated with the talented child for whom acting or speaking comes easily at first, so they don't put in much effort to improve. I warn them they will get passed up, but it is the rare kid who heeds that warning. Usually that kid has to learn it the hard way, if at all, and it's brutal.

The best is the talented kid, who does learn that they still need to work hard to be the best, to push themselves, and that the drive to succeed has to come from inside them, not from someone else pushing them. That kid will succeed no matter he/she goes.

I am humbled and grateful for the chance to be a part of a coaching team that seems to make a real impact on the guidance and development of these wonderful kids. We have so many that come back after graduation for years to help out, to give back, and to share with others what we have given to them. This makes it come around full circle, and it is a wonderful thing for everyone.

Christmas and New Years

Christmas is a time for family.

If you aren't particularly religious or materialistic, like us, it's what it's mostly all about. That, and all the food you normally don't eat. And having time to catch a few movies.

We have traveled back to Ohio every Christmas every year for the family. Some years have been ridiculously snowy, and many years have been clear and unremarkable. Some years, a lot our peers from high school and college are back visiting their families, and we have a reunion. We have our favorite places to hit up in Columbus, and we never make it through the whole list in one trip. So, we come back.

The tradition of traveling there has gone on for a long time, probably past its usefulness. Family is important, but sometimes they aren't a lot of fun.

The absence of my Mom still weights very heavily in my heart. My Dad and my niece and nephew are always a joy, but other members are like black holes fighting for matter and everyone's energy.

My mom used to help to create some balance in the family, but now she is gone, and the dynamic has changed. The black holes take all they can get and offer nothing in return.

I resolve that next Christmas will be in a different place, and a new tradition will begin, sans anyone insisting on acting like a black hole.

New Years traditions also continued, and brought joy and contentment. We had our nuclear family gift exchange, the feast of favorite snacks, and board games were played. We always stay home, and it's a pleasant and low-key family time.

Ever spend the night yelling at people in your mind instead of sleeping?

That's how I spent the night last night. Yelling at some deadbeats I know. Telling them off. Expressing my disappointment in them in ways that would scald their psyches if they knew how I really felt.

I am so tired. But, I am through with being angry and I didn't hurt anyone, and I am reasonable now.

I can sit again! Hello blog!

One thing I discovered in the past few months is how hard it is to blog when you are having trouble sitting comfortably.

Yes, I re-injured my lower back again, with an awesome shot of sciatica. Fortunately, I have a nice chiropractic office that is setting me right again, slowly but surely.

It started again when I started my new job in July. It's at a small company that is expanding, and there was a shortage of decent chairs left. Bad office chairs where what set it off last time, and this time, once again I was in great pain in no time with all the bad ergonomics.

I was able to fashion a workable solution with the cube I am in, and soon we are all getting new chairs, and having test-driven one, they meet my approval.

I am glad, the new job is good and I like my work and my co-workers.

Today was the first day I was able to get back to the YMCA and work out in about 3 weeks. It felt great. I can't run yet, but I will, oh, I will.


In other random thoughts;

I am very interested in a watching-the-car-wreck fashion in the Republican debates and all the subsequent implosions. I find it unreal that Newt Gingrich is currently the best hard right winger they can get right now. Perhaps there really isn't such thing as a good hard right winger--it takes a level of douche-bagginess few can stay the course on. That man has always been a douchbag's douchebag. Newt spewed today on the news shows that he would be glad to arrest judges that seem too "elite" or "activist" (read, liberal.) Hey Newty, I think North Korea just got a new opening for a dictator, perhaps you should give it a look-see. And stop pretending you believe in the Constitution.

I am similarly not understanding the tactic the House Republicans are using with the constant threat of shut downs because they are apparently just plain ornery and don't want to give in to an extension of a payroll tax cut for the middle class because isn't cruel enough to the poor and defenseless, doesn't ruin the environment enough, and doesn't make millionaires richer.

Keep up these tactics, good ol'boys, and not even the sleaziest tea bagger will support you.

The 99 Percent

I am one of the 99%. We make much less than the $350,000/year to be a 1 percenter.

I am writing this to clarify what we are protesting. Because apparently, "it isn't clear."

We protest corporations now being people, and the 1% having far too much leverage to control law making, politics and the media. We protest that the bankers and finance "wunderkinds" that nearly destroyed the economy STILL have not to face any repercussions, and are enjoying the millions and billions in bonuses they got AFTER we bailed them out. We protest that the regulations to make sure they can't do it again are STILL not in place, and that the 1% is lobbying to get even less regulation, falsely claiming that "this is strangling our ability to make jobs" despite all evidence to the contrary. The 1 percenters are not job creators that for some reason should not be fairly taxed like the rest of us. They took their Bush Tax cuts and DID NOT create new jobs with them in the past 10 years, and it's not going to happen if we give them more at the expense of people in the bottom 30%.

This is what we are protesting. If you do not understand that, or if it is not clear, then you must pay better attention and get your head out of your arse.

I am not able to be one of the many doing the occupying, but I support those who are. There are far more of us than them, and if anyone lifts a hand or a club to people who are peacefully protesting, we will be out there, because the economic and political injustice is real. There are too many people suffering. Our nation was not founded to be for the rich and by the rich, but for the people and by the people. To be claiming anything else is truly unAmerican.

October Awesomeness

September always feels ripe in possibilities, October is when to start putting the new plans in motion. New Year's resolutions have nothing on the beginning of the school year for determination, no matter how old you are.

When I was a teen, the beginning of the school year was a chance to try being whole different person, a better person, a different person than I was the year before. It was like hitting "reset." Some year's personalities were better than others. I learned to love fresh starts in the fall.

Once again I am hitting another reset, and moving from one role toward another. I am no longer an at-home mom with an unusual set of side businesses, but moving toward exploring possibilities of making a difference for a small company. It's exciting.

Outside, my garden looks like hell, but it's still producing. It has been a casualty of my new schedule. The trees are about to hit their best colors, and the weather report is predicting a full week of fall perfection.

I am as excited as a school kid, because change can be so cool.

Honking at a ship that's passed

"The Rogue" by Joe McGinniss is out with all sorts of salacious details and "proof" Sarah Palin is a shallow, mean spirited human being. But who cares? It's not like anyone with half a brain couldn't have figured that out themselves just watching her the past three years. The thing is, her ship is passed, and all he is doing is honking as it passes. She even honks back, hoping someone will wave at her as she goes. But no one cares. They are on to other things.