By way of introduction, and a little of that other shit on the side.
Good Morning!
Or Good afternoon, or evening. Well, it's morning
somewhere in the world, so let's start there, and go forward. If it's
late enough for it to be Happy Hour, feel free to raise a glass for
me! I love me some Guinness, and a Half-and-Half (also called a Black
and Tan) wouldn't be amiss.
However, first, we have our provisos-- and there
are several:
*If uppity women offend you, you're going to want
to use that back button up there, in the top of your browser.
*If women with strong opinions bother you, ditto.
*Leave if you've got a thing against Pagans,
free-thinkers, non-Christians, people who think Atheists are OK,
questioners, seekers and all persons rabble-rouser: go now!
*Tattoos and body piercings don't make me an
ex-con, worthless or less than you, thank you.
*If you feel that disagreeing with you is
persecuting you: leave and take your stupid with you.
*If it's not OK, that I'm pro-abortion, pro-choice,
pro-Women, just let yourself out, and close the door behind you. I
choose to Trust Women with their own bodies. (RIP Dr. Tiller)
*I probably know more about your religion than you
do, so throwing your book at me in a half-assed attempt to convert me
won't work. I'm way past that shit. You can't browbeat me into it,
either.
*I am cynical, sardonic, introverted and empathic.
I am too smart for my own good, and very sensitive to the world
around me. Don’t think those things go together? You've obviously
never met me! So, if dry humour-- you know, the gallows kind--
offends your sensibilities, you won't want to stay around.
*I use profanity. One of my favourite words is
fuck. I love it, it's a multi-purpose word! There's your warning.
*I am bisexual, and therefore a member of the LGBTQ
community; if you don't like it, fuck off! It will come up, it's
important shit.
*I am a cyclical depressive. That means sometimes
I'm going to talk about being in the dark of my mind, so deep that
there is no way out. I'm also a women, living in the US, to I'm
bombarded with how I'm never going to be skinny, perfect, pretty
enough (in addition to the baggage we all have from our growing up
years) That means I'll talk about bad body images, and what my inner
peanut gallery says. If you're triggered by those things, I will warn
you, I'll always put "Trigger Warning" on. If you think
mental illness means I need to get closer to god, or that I'm making
shit up: Fuck you, and fuck you and Fuck You!
If you treat people the way you want to be
treated, if you're able to shut up and listen, and occasionally get
ranty about things you're passionate about: You're welcome to stay as
long as you like! I don't care if we can't agree on the colour of the
fucking sky! Just as long as we can both say, "well, I see where
you're coming from, however..." and mean it with all of our
manners and civility. I'm more than willing to STFU and listen to you
rant, from time to time, too.
Now we've got that out of the way, back to the
introduction.
I used to be a prolific writer of all things
logical and politically precise. I worked hard to present both sides
of a debate, to present all the facts, all information needed for my
readers to make an informed decision. I kept my own politics out of
the discussion, preferring to let my readers, my listeners make their
own choices, just as I had done. It was always fun for me, finding
the balance... if there was one. I wouldn't write too much about
things that were one sided, like the RCC's baby raping rings. I can't
justify that shit, and wouldn't try; some things don’t' balance.
Then the 2008 Presidential campaign happened.
Wow! Did it happen!
Full disclosure: I was registered Independent at
that time, and I voted for Cynthia McKinney. Yes, I know she's not
all there, but neither is McCain (his record was too long and full of
shit!), and I wasn't sure about Mr. Obama (his record wasn't long
enough for my obsessive need to research and understand). I'd have
voted for Hillary, though.
I watched people panic en mass. It was
amazing! People I had thought to be relatively decent, albeit overly
religious, or overly conservative, or even overly weird. But
generally decent people. They all threw their hands into the air and
began to run around screaming about the end of the world.
I hoped no one would harm him, the new President,
nor his family. I barely remember Hinckley shooting Reagan back in
'81. I was barely three then, but I remember sitting on the floor
with my Dad, and the way my parents acted in that moment. I'm sure
for those who remember Kennedy's assassination, it was a thousand
times worse. Not something I want to experience. Knowing there were
(and still are, to my horror!) people who would harm the President
merely for the colour of his skin appals me, so I worried for him and
his family.
Speaking of bigots, don’t' even get me started
on the tea-bagger movement! No, I won't call them the Tea Party. They
chose Tea-Baggers as their moniker before they knew what it was, and
if they really don't like it, they should have used their Google-Fu
(or asked their grand kids) and looked into it. For the record,
tea-bagging can be fun as hell with the right gent! Yeah, I have a
thing about these tea-baggers. But that's not for now.
About that time my parents' marriage
disintegrated. They were married just about 30 years. To this day I
have no idea why my mother left; Dad doesn't know either. He never
did get an answer. She just decided she wanted to get with someone
else, I guess. I don't know. So I was helping my Dad navigate divorce
court, and the afterwards. Having been in a marriage that died during
W's wars (no, the war in Iraq wasn't the reason, merely the impetus
for me to get the fuck out while the getting was good!), I was able
to help Dad get through the first bit. Even if you know your marriage
is fucking dead, it's hard as hell to get through the first few
weeks.
During the election itself I was making plans to
move to Arizona with the love of my life. He and I moved in together
the 14th of November, 2008, and have been enjoying the ride ever
since. Moving almost three-thousand miles and starting a new life was
crazy, but we did it. I'd follow that man to the ends of the earth--
even Antarctica! (And I hate the cold)
Just in time to see the new President get sworn
in, and the GOP to shit the bed! That's even before 2010's election
and Speaker Boner took over and started crying all over the place.
I tried so hard to be balanced, honest and open,
and yet not call them every single name I could think of.
It didn't work very well. So I stopped writing.
They reminded me of when my kids were toddlers; you know how it is,
the throwing themselves on the floor, having a fit about something.
That's what those GOP'ers remind me of, and if I was their mother...
Better for them that I'm not.
I couldn't be logical when writing about panicking
white, rich men, desperate to get their power back. I couldn't write
kindly about legislation designed to strip women of the right to
complete sovereignty over their bodies. I just don’t' have it in me
to be that blind. I'm a Libra, not Lady Justice. I couldn't be happy
for the fat-cat bankers getting money when people were losing their
homes. I couldn't write about Cheney being anything other than a
war-criminal.
It was my policy not to write anything overtly
negative about a sitting President, or VP. I felt they had a tough
enough job that I didn't want to add to it-- even in an oblique way. I would merely state "I disagree with Stance B" and leave it lay.
No, I wasn't and am not, arrogant enough to believe that anyone close
to the President has ever read anything I've written (well, maybe an
email or letter about some piece of shit legislation I wanted Vetoed,
or a thanks for being a decent dude).
I can't be that way, any more.
This even handed, mild mannered, quiet Gamer Girl
is fed the fuck up! I am Fed Up! I am tired of hearing people cry
because they don't like the way the country's going, but they're too
busy going to church on Sunday and getting sanctified to do anything
other than bitch about brown people.
I'm tired of Wall Street being in the pocket
of Congress, or perhaps, Congress is bought and paid for by Wall
Street. That relationship is so incestuous that even they
don't know where they end and the other guy begins.
I got tired of hearing, "If you don't like
it, leave!"
So, I decided to get ranty.
So, I decided to get ranty.
I'm a Socialist. It's not a dirty word. It's
just the way it is.
I love the US. I was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan
for crying out loud! It doesn't get much more white-bread than
Michigan. So I'm not going anywhere.
This blog will be a little of this, and a little
of that. Some profanity and poetry. Fiction, non-fiction and
occasional rants against whatever I feel like ranting about.
Expect Romney-bot to get ranted on and Senator
Frothy, too (That'd be Santorum. If you're not familiar with him,
please go to www.spreadingsantorum.com.
It's not for the faint of stomach). Newtie will get ranted on, as
will my Governor, Leather Faced Brewer. I'll even throw in some of my
observations about the fashion disasters I see down here. Tucson,
Arizona is a fashion nightmare!
I'll probably bitch about the credit card system,
how little education is valued in the south and how much I love
chocolate and enjoy cooking. I read voraciously, love news, hockey
(Go Pens!) and hate basketball. I belly dance, love Irish music,
techno, opera, Euro-thrash, punk, ska and electric rock (pretty much
any music). I love bad B-movies, and documentaries. I play video games, shooters, RPG's, adventure and puzzles, in addition to my MMO. As you can see, I've a lot of disparate parts.
Like I said, RedHeaded Confetti
It's about time you got back to it Ms. Rantessa! :)
ReplyDeleteI can't wait to hear what you have to say, compare opinions and generally enjoy our likemindedness. :)
ReplyDeleteBlessings.
Betsy