the world seems to be turning itself inside out, like it's taking off a turtleneck, and the time pendulum is swinging backwards as the neck of the turtleneck lingers and hugs the globe. then pop the turtleneck is off and the world has reverted back to say 1618. swung back to the eve of the thirty years war.
only this time the war is on "terror", which is an unofficial war. war on "terror" is more a euphemism for the march of the christians globally. then there's that little thing called "jihad" or "holy war". both the war on "terror" and "jihad" are happening on the world stage, i found this piece interesting about boko haram and how 2000 lives have been taken in nigeria but 17 french murders dominate western media.
then there's the matter of free speech. but that too is getting dicey because now free speech in france may depend upon what you are saying. watch jon stewart comment on this below ('subsume your hypocrisy").
then there's the story about a young woman age 17 who has cancer and refused chemotherapy because she wants to explore alternative methods. but the state of connecticut took her away from her mother and placed her in foster care and are forcing her to undergo chemo, against her will. i'm just gonna put this out there; if "cassandra" was black she'd be dead and not by her own free will.
and if these kids were black, this would be a non-story. in the day and age of helicopter parenting, where susie and bobby only see the neighborhood through the greasy windows of their parents shitty minivan or the pernicious hybrid of the station wagon/suv (which i DESPISE) this story is refreshing yet unfuckingbeliveable . some parents in maryland let their children walk around neighborhood! gasp, quick i need an emoticon.
i remember when i was a kid, and i was able to be gone for hours. all i said was "i'm going outside." i'm fairly certain i had a parameters and boundaries, like if i was going to go inside someone's house and not just in the neighborhood playing, i had to call or ask. i also had to be home in the summertime when the streetlights came on. that's it. it wasn't a sign of neglect, it was a sign of trust and respect. or maybe it allowed time for my dad to take a bong hit. whatever it was, it felt like freedom.
speaking of freedom and being turned inside out, i'm finally getting to why i started this particular post in the first place.
for those of you who know me, i eat pretty darn well. my husband and i garden, sometimes together (ahem) and one time he weeded in his birthday suit, but i digress. we have an organic vegetable garden, we can produce, we buy organic unprocessed foods for the most part, and we know where our meat and dairy comes from because we have developed relationships with farmers. our food is our biggest expense. but we aren't always perfect, or rather i.
i had a craving yesterday, it usually happens on a thursday. on thursdays i think about the taco bravo at taco johns. rarely do i act on the bravo impulse and yesterday i didn't give into the taco bravo impulse. no, rather i gave into the small potato ole's and a side of shitty orange cheese impulse. oy. bad choice. really bad choice.
within a half-hour i was doubled over in the bathroom unsure of whether or not i was going to puke or poop. my gut had spasms. my ass had spasms. after peeing out of my ass over the next two hours i then slept for 11 hours. i couldn't tell my husband that it was ole related because i was mortified and i didn't want to hear about it. all he knows is that i "made bad choices". but they are my choices.
if you want to publish a cartoon that offends millions, then you better be ready for consequences, but you have a choice to do it or not.
if you refuse toxic treatment for a terrible disease, you may suffer the consequences of it, which may or may not include death, but that is your choice.
if you want your kids to be able to walk through their neighborhood unattended that is your choice, you may suffer the consequences of it, just ask johnny gosch's mom, or you may have given your kids a healthy sense of responsibility and freedom.
and finally if you want to eat shittay food, i mean shittAY food, don't mayor bloomberg or nanny state it, eat it and suffer the consequences.
2 comments:
At least it wasn't a 6 pack and a pound. I don't think you would've survived that one.
i did that once. once. gave me canker sores on my tongue. you'd think i'd steer clear of all of it. next time it's tasty tacos, and just the taco.
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