Friday, May 31, 2013

Capitalism in Ghettalonia, or How We Hustle.

People living in neighborhoods like Ghettalonia are pretty much all the same. Everyone seems to know everyone. Surviving is a struggle and folks help each other out.

Life isn't easy here and people do what they can to make ends meet. Ghettalonians are an entrepreneurial bunch.

See, it gets damned hot in the desert (or cold in the north). Far too hot (or cold) to walk blocks to the store and back. So, what ends up happening is someone will set up shop in their house. Usually in a central location that gets a lot of traffic. Within a small apartment complex, just about anything you might want is easily accessible.

There's a cigarette lady, she also sells ice cold soda.

There's two candy stores where you can get small bags of chips, small nickel candies, $.50 juices and things of that nature.

There's a lady that sells nachos. Another that sells tamales.

So, I decided to toss my hat into the ring. I'm selling frozen cups of Kool-Aid and homemade cookies.



If it goes the way I expect it to go, I'll make my money back for ingredients and double my initial investment.

Not bad for what essentially comes down to a Kool-Aid stand.

I guess I did learn everything I needed to know in kindergarten.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Dear Mr. Bigot,

I've been pondering folks like you who screech about LGBT's.

"I don't want those kind of people around my children! GOD says BLAHBLAH!!"

All I am left thinking is, if your faith and indoctrination are so right, if you've done what God told you to do, why are you so insecure about it that you have to shield your children from it? To the point you want to ban any expression of a sexuality not biblically correct? I mean, according to your bible, Jesus sat on a rock in the desert and faced the devil. If you want to be Christ-like, be Christ-like and shake that shit off. If a little "temptation" makes you weak, you weren't very strong in your faith to begin with.

So, if little Billy decides he wants to be called Wilamina and wear a dress to school, and that's what makes him happy, he should have the fucking right to pursue it. It might threaten your carefully crafted bubble, but it doesn't harm you.

This little gem popped up somewhere on the Intertubez and it just..I shook my head.

"There is no reason anyone should be forced to tolerate people"

To this ignoramus I say:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Just so there's no misunderstanding, here's the definitions of unalienable and liberty:

unalienable: un·al·ien·a·ble, adj.
Not to be separated, given away, or taken away; inalienable

lib·er·ty: noun \ˈli-bər-tē\
1: the quality or state of being free:
a : the power to do as one pleases
b : freedom from physical restraint
c : freedom from arbitrary or despotic control
d : the positive enjoyment of various social, political, or economic rights and privileges
e : the power of choice

Which means, yes, you stupid motherfucker, there is a reason. First sentence, second paragraph, Declaration Of Independence. All men are created equal, and that includes the ones wearing a dress.

Take a damned civics class and STFU.

If your belief system, your guidance, your faith, and your God aren't enough to fortify you and your children against differing views, maybe you ought to reevaluate your views, or buy a fucking island and separate yourself from humanity.

-drops the mic-

Monday, May 27, 2013

How much are you -really- worth?

I have a Cree friend I follow on Facebook. He posts many things on Native culture. He speaks of how they lived, how no one was left out, how everyone served a purpose, had a place in the community. I won't claim Native blood, but I can say that something deep within me resonates deeply with the culture.

It isn't that way anymore. Every man for himself. Fuck the little guy. Sucks to be you!

You're only worth as much as the sum of your stuff.

I watched the TED Talk with Amanda Palmer and she was speaking about her stint as a human statue who would move when someone dropped change into her hat and she'd hand out a daisy and make prolonged eye contact with the person. She spoke about people yelling at her to get a job. Being a human statue WAS her job. She went on to talk about how she would make eye contact with these people, and she'd make a connection. That for those few seconds of interaction, two humans made a connection. These connections MATTER.

So, yeah. That mime is doing their job. That human statue is doing their job. That street musician is doing their job.

And? That older, disabled lady down the block who doesn't work, but bakes cookies that make people happy, will babysit in a pinch and always has a meal for someone hungry? She is doing her job. She teaches the young women to cook. She remembers all the old, home remedies. She's the keeper of traditions. She's the the neighborhood equivalent of a medicine woman.

That homeless guy is doing his job. His job is to remind you that he could be you and to show some compassion. His job is to remind you to feel some gratitude.

Single moms who do not work are lambasted for being on welfare, as if raising children isn't a vital part of society.

Married, stay-at-home moms get much of the same vitriol as the single moms, and the so-called 'dregs of society' (which, anymore, translates to anyone who doesn't have a "good enough", "real" job). Except instead of being accused of leeching off the system, she's accused of leeching off of a man.

Even the worst humans among us do their job. They set shining examples of what NOT to be. Even they aren't worthless.

There's always going to be a certain percentage of the population that cannot, or does not, work in a traditional sense. That doesn't mean they don't contribute to society, and it doesn't mean we should look down on them, or let them remain homeless or hungry or completely miserable in their lives.

Worth isn't always about dollars and cents. I wish more people looked past the earning capacity of a person and saw their inherent value beyond their own jaded perceptions.

FDR was a pretty smart cookie coming up with that whole New Deal shindig. He recognized the importance of insuring that in our society, no one ever had to go without. That we, as a society, had an ethical responsibility to our fellow human.

We're losing that, though, and no one seems to want to stop and think about what we're losing with it.

As Americans our ancestors committed what could not be called anything less than genocide on Natives. These people who lived for thousands of years, successfully as complex societies, and they took care of their own. Everyone ate. Everyone was housed. Everyone was clothed. Everyone had a place in society.

They we're nearly annihilated and were replaced with what we have now.

---You're only worth as much as your paycheck.---

We called them savages, and we call ourselves civilized.

I don't think those words mean what folks think they mean.

Battle cry of the Entitlement Brigade!

"You're part of the problem!"

"Your sense of entitlement pisses me off!"

"You're NOT ENTITLED TO FOOD STAMPS! IT'S A KINDNESS! BE GRATEFUL AND NEVER EAT A STEAK!"

Well, folks, YOUR sense of entitlement pisses ME off.

See, I had 21 years of work history under my belt before I became disabled. I paid taxes for a lot of years. I paid into social security for a lot of years. I was FORCED to pay into these programs. I was forced so in the event I, or someone in my country, needed help to live it would be there. Like insurance. Sometimes you need it, sometimes you don't and you're damned lucky if you never do.

So, how many years is enough, you wailers of 'You're spending my money'? How many years is enough to pay in before it's ok to ask for it back without feeling guilty? Without being accused of being a drug addict and asked to take a test? Without hearing on a constant basis what a drain on society I am? How many thousands and thousands does one need to pay in order to not have to justify how I live my life? How much does one have to pay before they stop being accosted in the grocery store because one felt the desire for a steak?

If that money could have gone into an account of my own, managed by someone I trusted to make it grow, I wouldn't need to be in a program. We're not given that choice, though. We're made to pay into these programs, and then expected to never take advantage of them because...

ENTITLED BITCHEZZZZZZZ!!!!1111ONEONEELEVENTYBAMILLION!!!

Fuck you, I paid my fair share.

You don't call the person pulling their money out of the bank entitled.

You don't call the government entitled for taking that shit and fucking it off.

You'd call a bank a thief if they took your money and then said, "HOW DARE YOU ASK FOR WHAT IS YOURS YOU ENTITLED CUNTS!"

You call me entitled, but you're awfully entitled telling me how I should spend what I gave my government in case some shit went down.

Maybe you should call yourself entitled the next time you file an insurance claim. Same shit, different smell.

Don't call me entitled for expecting what the fuck I signed up for when I signed my W-fucking-2.

And don't hate on my fucking steak.

Why MILF is not a compliment in my world.

I hate that acronym. MILF. Mother I'd Like to Fuck.

I learned fairly early on that just because someone wants to fuck you does not necessarily mean they like you.

So, you think calling me a MILF is a compliment? It isn't.

I have a vagina, getting fucked isn't really all that difficult.

No, really, it isn't.

By telling me you think I am hot enough to fuck and neglecting the whole person behind the fuckholes, you insult me. You belittle what makes me a decent human being. You turn me into something not human. You turn me into a toy you want to play with. You reduce me to the sum of my breasts, ass and cunt.

MILF is not a fucking compliment, so, stop saying that shit.

Wanting to fuck me isn't a compliment. Wanting to get to know me is.
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