It's been a difficult year.  But somehow, October makes it all better.  It always does.

The older I get, the more sick of women and their womb culture I become.  I simply fail to identify with any of it.  I barely understand it and what I do understand horrifies me. 

What am I on about?  Let me explain it.  For some reason that I can't honestly define, the majority of women I know or notice seem utterly obsessed with their wombs.  They seem to define themselves and measure their worth and esteem in large part by what goes into and comes out of their wombs.  This is only rivaled by how much crap they've accumulated by paid dollar amounts and how much their chosen mates have accrued.

Come on, ladies.  We're better than that.  Or we should be.  I could have sworn that we now live in an era and a society where female humans can do better than simply acting as life support systems for sexual organs and standing in the shadows of men.  Now before you decide I'm one of those rabid, frothing feminazi creatures, realize that I think female superiority is as ridiculous as male superiority.  Gender doesn't dictate real worth or potential.  It's an accident of chromosomes that determines if your 'nads are innies or outies.  That's it.  Nothing more.  All it does is dictates which side of the reproductive equation you're doomed to, should you choose to breed.

But let's get back to that whole culture of the womb thing that's irritating me.

Someone recently remarked that they thought that it was a real shame I opted out of the whole breeding thing.  I still get gentle rebukes about it, as if I've committed some social crime by not burdening the world with yet another kid.  I'm vaguely horrified at the frequency of which I hear breeders say that they don't think a woman can be happy or fulfilled unless she's carried at least one uncomfortable, demanding lump of larval human around for three quarters of a year and then had the pleasure of looking after them for the rest of her life.  And if you go for one, you have to take seconds or your first won't turn out so well... I thought we'd left this female gender identity measured solely by how many heirs you could provide back in the 18th century along with slavery and flat-earth theory.

I'm a lot more than a life support system for a vagina and uterus.  My destiny is not limited to breeding babies and I can choose whether or not, how and how often I'm going to have sex.  I'm not defined by who I'm doing it with and my worth has nothing to do with my breeding potential or choices about it.  I'm happy and quite fulfilled as a woman without children.  I had other things to do with my life.  I still have them.  I really think a lot of these condescending, disapproving motherhood cultists should have chosen the childless path along with me, as more than a few of them are not very good at that whole motherhood thing they're so in love with.

Sorry, ladies, I don't want to be on your mailing list.  I don't want to hear about how beautiful your babies are (when I've seen them and find them, like most other babies, to be ugly, lumpy-looking and more than a little smelly).  I don't want to pat you on the back and tell you how full of awesome you are for getting yourself full of a baby.  Any female can do that by mistake if she's healthy.  It's not worth praise or rewards no matter how special you think it makes you.  No, I really -don't- want to hold it, touch it or make noises at it.  It's a baby.  Yours.  And babies are a lot like religion and politics in that you really shouldn't insist on sharing them with anyone you aren't absolutely sure wants to opt in on them with you.  No, that's not everyone.  Really, I'm sure.

And no, once the fruit of your wombs has become ambulatory, you shouldn't assume that everyone you know wants you to bring them when you go to visit.  There ARE women out there who don't want the invasion along with the huge imposition and peril of social awkwardness when your toddlers range free over territory that isn't their own.  What IS it with women, especially the mothers of very young children that they honestly can't fathom that their kids aren't welcome (especially the ones who aren't capable of keeping their hands to themselves -- which in my experience is the majority) everywhere they go?

All part of that womb cult thing.  The womb, and everything that comes out of it must be held sacred and elevated to stupid heights. 

I just don't get it.

Even Mormons will stop pushing their religion on you if you very clearly, politely and firmly explain to them that you're not interested in it.  And they're nice about the rejection too.  So why not mothers and the rest of the womb-worshipers?

Just something to think about, ladies.

Just when I think people can't convince me they're any more stupid... they do.  Most especially on the internet.  I swear, it's as if their brains switch off as their browsers switch on.  Seriously. 


That was one brain trust's response to a conversation about some nude model being arrested in a museum.  How does one respond to such amazing stupidity (and obvious misogyny)?  I found myself at a loss for words after reading this crap.  I was even more disappointed that there were actually people taking this mir'shebs seriously.  The only intelligent way to respond to something like that is "Uh, sure, dude... whatever you say." followed by an /addignore if you don't just go straight for that ignore.

Granted, I'm not a huge fan of the public naked.  It's just not my thing, really.  But that's just a preference.  I'm not going to stand around trying to justify it or to justify forcing my preference on others.  I'm certainly not going to go that extra mile to back up that preference with some spurious alarmist bullshit claiming that the very act of being naked is some sort of health hazard.  I'm just going to say "Thanks, no, I'll pass.  Have fun." and find something to look at that pleases me more.

I'm just so sick and tired of people who think their personal preferences should be so important that they can run about trying to make other people seem disgusting, vile and dangerous if they don't conform to it.  And I'm sick to death of the stupid.

I think my cat is getting ready to die.  The only thing that hurts worse than your own most terrible pain is the pain of what you love most in this world. 

If there are gods or benevolent overthings in this universe, have mercy.

Sometimes I wonder if in addition to everything else people shovel into their gaping maws that they've added stupid pills to the insatiable obligatory orgy of daily consumption.  It stands to reason because otherwise I'd just have to start thinking that people are inherently and naturally too stupid to survive without keepers.  And it takes a powerful amount of stupid to be surprised about the latest shocking findings about the hormones they push on menopausal women.

It's not like it hasn't been in the fine print in that list of "rare side effects" for practically ever.  And it's the same sad list of cautions you'll find in your birth control pills.  Yes, if you are at all unhealthy, you should just refrain from putting any of that crap in your body or it's rather likely that you'll end up having a stroke or heart failure or even drop dead.  None of it's good for you.  If you're a smoker, you should just forget it altogether because honestly, your system doesn't need any additional encouragement to crap out on you (take it from a two-decade smoker -- just don't mess with the crap).

Really, if people had half a shred of a clue about the osik that their prescriptions did to them or were highly likely to do to them, they'd think more than twice about letting their licensed pushers prescribe the garbage they're so eager to have you buy.  It boggles my mind sometimes to think of how most of this got past the FDA... till I remember that the FDA isn't really there to ensure what I buy to eat or to remedy an illness is safe -- but instead exists to act as a willing partner to big business to keep those special interest groups throwing money at their employers.  And no, though it's our tax dollar that pays them, we are NOT their employers.

I'm so tired of our government and the system we seem so content to endure.  I'm twice as tired of the numpty di'kuute that seem so determined to keep themselves down by keeping people in power who mean them no good and use them mercilessly to create more wealth and power for themselves.  We indeed seem damned to the government the majority deserves (which is rather much like the government our founding fathers put their lives on the line to be rid of).

It seems almost comical that half a year ago I'd almost hoped that things would be different.  It was a moment of weak-headedness.  We are a savage, selfish, stupid nation, led by the most savage and selfish that can be dredged up from the wealthy.  It's no wonder that most of the world either fears us, hates us or both.  It's difficult at times not to be utterly disgusted and I'm a born and raised American.  And sad to say, that's no claim to be proud of anymore, when freedom and bravery are only empty words to the majority, often yelled but little understood.  Sure, it's better than being born in Africa and living in terror of rape gangs or in Afghanistan and living in terror of religious extremists.... but that's really not saying much when it comes down to it. 

No, I don't hate America.  I only hate what we have allowed it to become.  I don't hate liberty.  I despise hearing the words from the mouths of people who would deny it to their own neighbors because their neighbors look or act or love differently.  I don't hate religion or god.  I loathe the people who cherry-pick through the doctrine to justify hating and hurting other people who've done nothing to them while thinking themselves above the laws written in the books they themselves use as weapons.

You can't pretend to be living in a free country where all men are created equal when you're denying any segment of your population the same rights you take for granted.  You can't claim to live in the best country in the entire world when more than half of your fellow citizens can't even be assured of basic healthcare and you're statistically ranked well below the top 20 best in medical care and life expectancy.  You can't claim to be living in an open, enlightened society when you permit your leaders to torture and degrade people and get away free with it.  You can't claim to be afraid of socialism and be smug and content in your assumed capitolism when the poor and the middle class are ruined to benefit the very wealthy in times of crisis caused by the greed and irresponsibility of those same wealthy (honey, that reeks of the Eastern Block old-time communism).

It really has to be stupid pills.

Because if it's not, there's an aweful lot of you out there that should look in the mirror and feel a lot less proud of yourselves for taking what you're being fed for truth and believing that we are not all sick nearly to death from it.

That is, if you can stop texting before you park that SUV (or crash it because you weren't paying attention).

While it doesn't make it feel any better, there's something reassuring about having science prove you're not just being a total landuur puss about things.  Seems that there's now scientific proof that the same gene that gave me red hair, makes me sensitive to light, heat and UVs and ups my chances of getting some horrid skin cancer... also gifts me with the ability to feel a good bit more pain than those blessed with blonde or dark hair.  And the kicker?  It also makes me more resistant to anasthetics and anasthesia. 

From the NIH:

And I'm far from alone in my utter phobia of going to the dentist, it seems.  Again with the red hair.  Seems redheads make anastheiologists crazy, since we're so difficult to sedate.  It's not just an in-the-head thing.  Not merely a hysterical reaction.  It's a malfunction in our genes that screws up our pain receptors and makes us around 20 percent more difficult to numb and knock out.

So kriff those of you who've told me "it's all in your head" and "you can't possibly feel that" and "stop being a baby".  Up the shebs.  With a cactus.  Science has backed me up and validated my very real pain and my very valid anxiety.

Seriously sick.

So, tonight, someone posted a blatantly pedo composition to this monthly art challenge I participate in.  I won't link to or post the image because I won't encourage this sick jackass by helping him spread his crime further.  But I will describe it for you and quote this jerkoff's text.  You have a child of around twelve or thriteen tops standing dead center wearing nothing but a very skimpy bikini bottom, covering her tiny little girl breasts with her hands.  In front of her is a bowl of strawberries and cream.  He titled his disgusting display "The Reluctant Debutante".


Every Pin-Up had a first "shoot" sometime and handling such a debutante may be a challenge for the photographer too ... unless (s)he knows how to handle the model ...... you need one hand to hold the bowl and the other hand to eat ...

That is a cut and paste, direct quote of his entry blurb.  It makes it patently clear that the child doesn't want to be photographed partially nude, but that if she wants a treat, she has to bare it for the camera.  I was so disgusted and incensed by this that I was at a loss for words.  But what really, REALLY turned my stomach was the comment that followed two entrants complaints about the subject matter.

..humorous and very sweet.

I think I threw up in my mouth a little. 

For the first time, I've resorted to using a forums report button.

No, my dear, perverted sicko, that was neither sweet nor humorous.  What it is, is sick.

I'm so tired of religion and politics.

It seems like you can't escape either these days.  Sure, I concede, there are plenty of reasons why both are necessary, but it's not at all necessary to go on about them endlessly to everyone you encounter.  If anything, it's pushy and rude.  No, really, it is.

Think about it this way:  Do you want to hear about the intimate details of everyone else's sex lives or bathroom habits? 

Most people don't.  Most people have absolutely no desire to listen to you go on and on about how big a dump you took this morning or how you prefer to shag your partner.  Well it's the same basic thing with your religious or political beliefs.  I don't care what or how you worship or who you would rather have screwing up your life on Capitol Hill.  It's even less interesting to me than what was in your droppings yesterday.  As a matter of fact, after a while, it becomes just as offensive to listen to some numpty blather on and on about how great The Savior is (or how awesome <insert random diety here> happens to be in your oh so enthusiastic opinion, which must be taken as fact) or how much the Democrats (or the Republicans or the Libertarians or the Socialist or what-the-kriff-ever party) suck big donkey meat and OMG let me tell you why for the next three hours that you can never have back.

The reality of it is that despite the fact that people are rabidly divided over how they feel about these things, they all behave the same way.  They have this pathetic sithy "you either agree with me or you're an evil asshole" thing going on that just blows the mind in its toddler's simplistic rhetoric.  Nevermind that when their side does the exact same thing you're frothing about that you defended it and presented me with some ridiculous diatribe of the same sort just last year.  Nevermind that you haven't the faintest idea what the actual core values of your espoused cult that has changed your life actually are and that I can plainly see you are still living your life in defiance of those actual values.  None of what you have to say actually ever changes anything for the better or has an ounce of positive forward thinking in it. 

The more you run your mouths about these things, the more they seem like endlessly lame garbage that aren't worth my time.  And this kinda places YOU in the center of a raft of feelings of annoyance, distaste and dislike.  So keep it to yourself.  I don't want to hear about how you found Jesus.  I don't want to hear you parrot some witless talking head from the idiot box about how much you hate President Obama or how brave people who murder doctors who perform abortions in the name of "right to life" are or how some up-jumped Puerto Rican chick is unqualified to be on the same bench as total purity and genius cases like Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito.  This is deep into eye-rolling and wandering off to avoid you territory.

So seriously... dont tell me.  Save it for someone who wants to hear it.

We woke up this morning to find Kitty couldn't stand up and walk.  Obviously, we lost our shit and immediately rushed her to a vet.  She's not young anymore, after all.  The first vet we visited was at the Ashburn Village Animal Hospital.  I will never go there again. 

The receptionist could have been manning a cash register at Seven Eleven for all she seemed to care.  The vet wasn't much better.  She had us convinced we might as well put her down and ignored our suggestion that one of us should be handling Kitty because she didn't do well with strangers.  Her ignorance got one of her people bitten and caused pointless, unneccessary delays while the health department gave permission for us to take her to a specialist.  This is a rule for animals that bite people.  Cam and I were in tears, convinced on her word that the worst was happening.

Fortunately the TLC clinic in Leesburg and the neuro specialist there were vastly more qualified to handle both animals and people.  And they must have been the only ones in the county who are, judging by the serious traffic in emergencies these people went through while we were there.  And we were there All Day while they gave her nearly every test known to vetinary science to try and nail down exactly what was wrong with her. 

Kitty doesn't get sick or hurt often.  It's a good thing, because when she does, it is COSTLY.  You don't want to know what we paid today or how much we'll pay next week if she doesn't recover and ends up having to get MRIs to see if there is spinal cord problems or brain tumors.  The neurologist -thinks- she suffered a stroke and predicts that she should be up on her feet in a couple of days on her own.  He didn't just throw expensive meds at it.  We appreciated that.  We also appreciated how the people there handled both us and Kitty.

THEY heeded the biting warnings.  They didn't wall us out and isolate us, then blow us off with dire prognostications.  They let us stay in a visiting room with Kitty while she waited for different doctors, which was good for her AND us.  The neuro had ME handle Kitty while he examined her and he actually got to do some examining instead of fending off her feeble attempts at defending herself.  Let me tell you, even so feeble that she can't stand up, it seems Kitty can get a good bite and claw combination sprung on the unwary faster than seems possible.

But she passed the "baby food test" by the end of the visit, so the vet is sure she'll be fine.  There's something pathetic, sad and cute about the sight of a cat in one of those funnel collars that can't sit up entirely on her own power with her nose stuck in a jar of babyfood, greedily slurping it up.  It was a LOLcat moment.  Poor Kitty.

Okay, it's rant time again.

There've been a few things stuck in my gorge lately that I need to puke up in text.  The most pressing being my beef with people being such landuur pussies.  As kids, when someone makes fun of you or says something that hurts your feelings, you have an outburst or a tantrum or whatever and the grownups tell you to simmer down and be a big kid instead of a big baby.  So why is it these days that grown adults take this behavior to extremes about things that aren't even directed at them and it's acceptible?

Seriously, people, you need to get over yourselves and get over it. 

Yes, I know some people have died of the Swine Flu.  But let's put this in perspective, shall we?  Many, many more people die every year of the regular old flu and nobody says squat about it.  But the media gets desperate for something to scare people into watching them obsessively, picks up some less lethal disease, turns it into the end of humanity and everyone goes freaking insane over it.  Suddenly all those morons who laugh at Mexicans and make racist comments where they think nobody but their intended targets will hear them become the Political Correctness Police.

There are about a half a dozen of these white apologist PC Feuhrers making a huge fuss over at the Daz forums because some hapless, clueless schmuck stuck with the usually scheduled catchphrases on a sale that featured a cute little piglet model on Cinqo de Mayo.  Suddenly, due to an unfortunate set of coincidences and a less than alert marketing approval (no doubt massivley overworked) these little PC Police have been raising the torches and pitchforks claiming DAZ hates Mexicans and making outrageous accusations and demanding that the people responsible be sacked (among other things). 

It's a lot like con politics, in that one malcontent gets a bug up their overpriveledged ass and whips up a fury among the usual suspects, who then infect the easily inflamed with their dramastorm and produce the angry mob who go all Republican on anyone who refuses to validate their gripe and join the herd of now-brainless bitchers to escalate what was originally nothing much into End Times crimes status.

In this case, what the core of these mouthy twats wants is something free to shut them up because the repeated apologies from half of the DAZ staff just isn't good enough for them.  It's classic greed and conceit going on here, reinforced by society's insistence on rewarding this kind of behavior in exactly this way.  The ringleader, no doubt won't shut up till she's banned or given a hefty payoff and a scapegoat fired. 

But yeah, people just LOOK for ways to be offended so that they can throw these disgusting tantrums and have their little circuses.  Where the haran is this shit coming from?  Why does anyone tolerate this sort of behavior out of adults?

I'm sick and tired of hearing a constant refrain of "OMG I'm so offended!!!" from hundreds of keyboards about the stupidest shit.  Maybe if most people didn't hop around like trained monkeys, falling all over themselves to make ammends for just about anything including looking at someone the wrong way or even for shit they HAVEN'T said or done, these big crybaby drama llamas would simmer the shab down and quit going on and on to anyone who will listen and half the folk who don't about how big a crime someone's committed against them or (insert racial or religious group here) and then gleefully go on about how insensitive and horrible the offender is and how greusomely they should be punished for their imagined insults. 

My answer would be a bucket of water.  It's what people do to settle dogs down when they've lost their shit.  If it's good enough for dogs, it's good enough for these twats.

Hey you.  Yeah you.  The ones whining about how horrible Daz is for making a bad ad and accusing them of going out of their way to be evil to Mexicans and to insult you.  Yeah you.  It's not all about you.  Get over yourself and shut the fuck up.

Thank you.

Have a nice day.

You whiney PC cunt.

Daddy's Watching

:D

Oya!  So I've managed to win a Daz artwork competition.  Guess even when it's all digital, I've still got it.

The piece was called Far, Far Away.

So I'm hitting a level of chronic frustration and impatience that can't possibly be healthy.  Sleep is becoming a challenge again.  I don't feel like I'm doing anything particularly well.  I'm getting that gnaw my own foot off to escape feeling.

My game friends miss me.  I get to log in, but generally not when they're on.  They play during prime time.  I'm monopolized during prime time.  And prime time seems to be spreading to almost prime time and not so prime time.

I have to stay up till nearly dawn to do any rendering or anything else that requires some unbroken attention.  It's not doing anything for my disposition.

No, I haven't died.

It's just that I've had this gradually increasing load of crap that needs doing.  It's become so time consuming and tiring that it's actually eaten my reading, gaming and writing time.  It almost seems as if the more time I spend on regular, mundane, everyday things, the more time I'm expected to spend.  Now, it feels as if it has eaten up nearly every corner of my waking life.

I feel like Cinderella.  Pre Prince Charming Cinderella.

Yes, I know how dramatic it sounds.  So sue me.  I need to vent.

See, I feel pushed into a corner.  I'm at one of those points where it almost feels like if I just abdicated the domestic role and took an outside job -- ANY outside job, no matter how awful -- that I'd feel less stressed.  You see, we're back in that cycle of him not knowing exactly how good a ride he's getting again.  Asking for more and not appreciating what he's got, thinking that maybe if I was just like other women, he'd be happy.  What he doesn't take into account is that other men don't have a woman washing their clothes, feeding them, keeping their house clean and all that other long, long list of luxuries he takes for granted.

What he doesn't seem to understand is his mother wanted a house full of kids and one adult male kid didn't phase her.  And his dad has always spent a lot of time away, leaving her a little space to have off-time.  I don't want kids.  That includes an adult male one.  And I get no space.  At all.  He doesn't back off when we're in this cycle of increasing demand.  He only retreats, leaving behind a palpable sense of unreasonable expectation and disapproval.  And when he presses back in, it's harder, bigger and even less digestible.  It needs to stop soon.

I feel the need to rant today.  My rant is society's secret love affair with The Lie. 

I hate it.  I find it repugnant.  I also find it inexplicable.  People lie for every reason imaginable -- for profit, for promotion, for respect or adoration, for social acceptance, to avoid punishment, to avoid pain... so many, many reasons.  It is all-pervasive.  Yet lying serves no real good in the end.  Lies, even those meant kindly, twist in the liar's mouth and corrupt the intention.

So many people lean on others to perpetuate the lie.  They say the truth is cruel and that nobody deserves to hear it (unless it's soft and comfortable).  Tell me how that's kind, again?  By telling a comfortable, pretty or socially acceptable lie, you are removing the chance that someone might grow, improve or become stronger or better.  You are misleading the recipient into believing something that isn't real rather than letting them know what you yourself think and perceive.

By lying to others, you begin building a prison for yourself, binding yourself with fabrications into a construct of artifice and fantasy.  The more you do it, the more you have to do it to preserve the illusion you've built.  You become constrained by the lie you build and unable to see a way free of it you continue to maintain.  And the longer you do this, the more hollow and guilty and unhappy you will feel.  Because you start to lose sight of the truth, yet deep inside you know you aren't living it.

How can any person be happy never knowing if someone, anyone might possibly like or respect or accept them if they actually knew who and what they really are?  Lies aren't the protection people seem to think them to be.  They undermine self esteem worse than the problems and foibles they are used to cover up.  Lies don't defend the liar from emotional pain.  They only serve to let that pain grow and fester and spread.

Lies create fear and insecurities.  Needlessly.  All liars know that they risk being unmasked.  Leave a lie long enough and it will distress you enough that when the truth DOES come to destroy it, even the consequences (almost always made more severe by the lie) seems a relief by comparison to the anxiety of maintaining the lie.

So tell me again, my friends, why is it that you embrace the lie so fervently?  The truth, quite literally, can set you free.  Free to improve.  Free to know what's real from what's not.  Free to become stronger and smarter and more beautiful and more meaningful.  Free to be known.  REALLY known.  Free to love someone else and even yourself.

Reject the lie and join me in embracing what you're sure is the truth.

Stop lying.

Start living.

Be who you are and say what you believe.

In the musical play "My Fair Lady", Henry Higgins bemoans the failings of the so-called fairer sex and asks "why can't a woman be more like a man?".  I'm sure this was intended by its authors as satirical, since his character was deeply flawed, yet there are many days I find myself in agreement with his complaint.

Not all women, but many, really get on my nerves.  It's not entirely their fault.  We are conditioned by society to behave the ways we do.  Denied healthier, traditionally male outlets for our aggression, we are taught to vent it differently -- in more socially acceptable ways.  Denied the satisfaction of physical and direct and honest outlets, we are indoctrinated into a much crueler, destructive and competitive way of dealing with things.  In this we are taught to be imminently more dangerous than our brothers... using them as tools to our ambitions and our anger, usually against each other.

Men view us typically as not competitive or aggressive.  They are blind.  They don't see the not-so-secret wars that girls and women wage right under their noses.  If they saw and understood, they might look at us very differently.  They'd fear the ones who did adhere to the social roles we've been given and be grateful for those few who refuse to rather than the other way around.  Because those who are more like men in their approach to life know how to forgive and observe certain boundaries.  Most women do not hold those things sacred.

But, Uurdala, you might say... you're a woman.

Yes, yes I am.  However, I refuse to let a ridiculous set of gender roles excuse being a osikla person.  Being born with ovaries and a uterus does not entitle me to be vicious and destructive and to use the other gender as pawns in some mostly invisible struggle for social power and revenge against other women for standing too close to my territory.  It does not guarantee me a free pass to do anything it takes to focus all attention in a social circle on me.  My gender only ensures that I will be the target of the majority who share it.

This doesn't mean I dislike all other women.  I don't.  Some of my dearest friends are female.  All of them, like me, curl the lip at our designated gender roles.  We are not outwardly meek and covertly sly.  We are direct, honest and very.... manlike in our approach to life, men and each other.  We play by rules and limits, unlike our more socially embraced sisters.  We see men as our equals and as people rather than as tools and prizes to be displayed to incite envy and anger.  We engage in healthy, friendly rivalries.

But having said all this, I have to say that I'm sick of the behavior of the majority of the women I've known.  Socially mandated or not, ingrained by a lifetime of example or not, it's weak, petty, ignoble and plain old pathetic.  I can tell you why we, as a gender have yet to acheive true equality in arenas historically dominated by men.  It is because so many of us accept the lies you're given as little girls, embrace the selfish, destructive behaviors you are taught and undermine not only yourselves, but ALL women in a futile attempt to gain an illusion of power for yourselves.

As a commercial holiday geared toward rabid consumption, this year's Christmas wasn't the amazing suck it could have been.  Not for my family at least.  The shredding frenzy of ribbon, gift paper and pretty packings was at its usual level of high.  The gifts were plentiful and satisfying to their targets.  There was the traditional surplus of rich food and drink.  Considering my inlaws are staring at the shreds of their retirement savings and feeling concerned, it was vaguely mystifying.


The world stands on the wrong side of the brink of chaos, yet somehow, inconceivably, my family passed through Christmas as usual.  Surely some benevolent power is smiling on them.  But I can't help but think about the people who aren't enjoying the light of that smile.  There is no guilt associated with these thoughts, only a vaguely uneasy sense of sadness.  It's difficult to express it, really.  I wish every last soul living on this planet at least this one day of rest, companionship and plenty.  One day lacking too much worry or pain or privation.  One day to celebrate surviving another year and to look forward to the next with determination knowing the sun will rise again at the end of the longest, coldest night.

See, Christmas for me isn't what it is for so many others.  Yes, I follow the herd and indulge willingly in the capitalist bacchanalia that modern Americans so adore.  But that is a socially expected ritual.  No, I don't buy into the fable of it being Christ's birthday.  It's historically established that the person that may or may not have been the Christian son of god was born some other night and that what we know as Christmas was a bid to garner converts by planting Christian holy days on top of pagan ones just as they built churches on top of their temples.  I humor people and use the commonly accepted names and phrases because in the end, it hurts nothing and all boils down to a similar spirit. 

What it is defies what it's clothed in or the rituals we use to frame it.  What it is, most simply put, is something that all humans need -- to look into the dark bravely and to remind themselves that they are alive despite the efforts of a cruel and difficult world; and to await the new day, keeping the fire going against the unknown that waits out in that dark night.

So keep that fire burning.  Take heart, for the sun WILL rise again.  Be thankful for what you have and hold.

Happy Phat Lewtz to you.  May you receive all you need and may you give well and wisely.

Another year in the Virgina megaburb and another snowless, cold, dreary Christmas. 

Memory suggests that there should be snow on my bit of yard, covering the brown, dead winter grass and reflecting the riot of strung colored lights and the glow of my old fashioned radioactive reindeer.  But no.  While my northern and western friends tell tales of white blanketed neighborhoods, mine remains stubbornly....brown.

The only snow I'll see this Christmas will be on cable, rolling in unlimited repeats of A Christmas Story.  I understand that I won't be seeing world peace, an end to the global financial crisis, humanity discovering the joys of becoming humane or anything else grand and meaningful under my tree in the morning.  But could I at least be given a yard of unstained, pure white snow just this one day of the year?

*sigh*

Father Christmas, why have you forsaken me?