Category Archives: Personal

Red Moon Eclipse

Because I’m up early enough every morning, I went outside to enjoy the beautiful weather at 1:00 a.m. and to watch the red blood moon eclipse. As with so many things, it doesn’t matter whether I post a beautiful well-defined picture or a careless one. I took pictures when the moon was crimson, but oddly prefer the crescent-lit luminescent bites of the Moon. You can find beautiful red shots of the moon in other places. All of them will render second hand experiences if you weren’t up and outside to witness it

Pictures have meaning when they are anchored to first-hand experiences. To stand outside barefoot close to the Ides of March, looking up to the sky in the dead of the morning was special. But it’s like trying to explain the color blue to someone without vision. It was my stolen moment and I’m sorry you weren’t there to witness it.

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Hate

Earlier today, someone shouted an old Spanish nickname of mine. It was an odd place to hear an old nickname. I remembered him immediately because he had the same smile, although it was hidden behind twenty additional years of hard-earned wrinkles. I will call him Sonrisa.

He told me he works with my old friend Carlos. After joking about the unlikelihood of Carlos working much and sharing a laugh, Sonrisa told me that Carlos was giving up on getting the citizenship that he had been promised for years. Both Carlos and Sonrisa are incredibly hard workers. Sonrisa told me a version of the same story I’ve been hearing repeatedly over the last few months: most of their cohort has given up on the United States being the promised land it once was. 

They’ll probably return to El Salvador. It will be a loss for everyone. Not only are they hard workers, but they’re funny even in English. 

They didn’t used to be prone to cynicism. Sonrisa remembered that I was one of the few gringos who actively stood out in the crowd in recognition of the contribution of Latinos. 

He wasn’t surprised when I told him that there was not much hope in sight to feel respected as long as the current crowd of political idiots get their way. 

I’m paraphrasing, but Sonrisa added, “You know he’s an idiot when he starts a fight with a friendly white country like Canada. I know if we go back to El Salvador we’ll experience similar authoritarian BS like we do here. But at least it won’t be based on prejudice.” He added, “I remember years ago when you said it was better for people to curse you directly to your face because then at least you knew who they were. We had a few great years here where the racists mostly kept to theirselves. We always knew it was there. But now? He gave them permission and gasoline to act openly.”

There’s no need to explain what people mean when they use the word ‘HE.”

I waved goodbye to Sonrisa and asked him to tell Carlos hello for me.

I silently hoped that 47 and the people who support him don’t get their way. But on the other hand, as always, a little part of me also hoped that they would continue to f*** around and find out.

Not only about the absence of a sufficient workforce to prop up our economy, but also the unavoidable consequences of believing that you can denigrate one group of people without harming the respect threshold for everyone else 

Hate breeds hate, and distrust contaminates everyone. 

There is no “them.” They are us and vice versa. You’ve simply avoided being targeted. Yet. 

Authoritarians and those who believe they have the right of superiority are never content. Fear-mongering is an appetite that never lessens.

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JD And DJ Rage

The lady listening to JD and DJ give a master class on narcissist idiocy accidentally gave the world a recap of what the people in the room were witnessing.

Watching the videos of JD and DJ attacking Zelensky made me embarrassed and infuriated.  There’s a reason such behavior shocks. Presidents do not behave that way. Raging alcoholics might. Narcissists definitely do, but usually in private. 

How anyone versed in history or politics could see this behavior as anything other than a huge red flag baffles me.

It’s not strength. It’s toxicity. 

People who demonstrate this type of behavior have no place in politics or government. 

JD was already pissed off because the special sofa he asked for was not made available for the meeting. 

DJ oozes the type of demeanor and behavior that defines him. 

Our previous allies were already on a razor’s edge about the mountain of incredible things that have come out of the mouths of our administration. 

Because I follow a lot of international news, I can tell you that while the United States might be feared, this is the equivalent of waiving a gun around in a room. Our previous allies are no longer looking at Trump as a buffoonish distraction. They understand that he is leading our country toward something unrecognizable and as a threat to world stability.

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Mannequin Ursula

I think Erika might have heard me joke one too many times about getting a mannequin for pranks. 

This one arrived with only one instruction included: Do NOT burn incense near this mannequin after 8: 34 p.m. There were some odd Chinese symbols of knives, fire, and amputation with the admonition regarding incense. I’m sure it’s nothing.

I dressed Ursula and then used my fabulous wig to top off the ensemble. 

In other news, this damn thing has startled me more than once already. Adding the knife to the right hand will be a nice addition on extermination day or in the unlikely event someone is stupid enough to break into my apartment. 

My cat Güino has already indicated Ursula is a better conversationalist than me. 

PS The prank possibilities with this mannequin are infinite! 

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Blowhard

Everyone’s had that experience at a party or social gathering. One guy, and it’s almost always a guy with too many opinions, (not to mention an endless supply of drinks)  is a domineering a******. You don’t want to be directly rude to the host and tell them why you’re ducking out early or on the invitation itself. 

Social media in many ways is similar. Each person gets to gatekeep not only their content, but those who participate as well. It reminds me of attending a party with that one guy who is so negative he might as well be half of a battery terminal. This dude rarely sees himself as negative. 

Increasingly, I realize that I’m hitting block a lot more quickly. Not because of disagreements, but because I wouldn’t want that person in my conversation, much less in my living room. 

One of my social media friends, one whose opinion I respect, always had a couple of blowhards who didn’t understand the concept of volume, frequency, or disagreeableness. Although it’s unfair, I name those people Mike when I run across them. 

I recently learned that one of my friend’s biggest blowhards passed away. I will admit that I initially felt relief upon hearing about it. That doesn’t paint me in the best light – but it’s true. A debilitating case of carpal tunnel would have been enough. 

Repeating what I said before, it’s not about disagreements. Rather, it’s about disagreeableness. 

As for people insulting me, if it’s creative, I don’t care what their motive is. I love being snarked and insult-burned if it’s done with finesse and intelligence. This is in part true because I steal the good ideas. 

It’s very difficult for me to get insulted if the insult comes from people I don’t know or whose opinion I don’t respect. 

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This Place (A New Song)

This Place
I threw down the manual and kicked over my chair
one more set of numbers might murder my will to live
ain’t got another damned day to give

this place
this place
never had any grace

every second measured, each move under evaluation
human life reduced to numbers to the left of zero
ain’t got another damned hour to give

this place
this place
never had any grace

each morning takes a little corner of my mind
listening to contradictory and meaningless instruction
ain’t got another damned minute to give

this place
this place
never had any grace

if I don’t break free and surrender from this place
even the idea of me might dry up and blow away
might not have another damned second to live

this place
this place
never had any grace

(screams)
I’m out of here!

Blessed Be The Fruit

Blessed Be The Fruit

People are discussing the complexity of the human capacity for collective evil. Whether one section of the population likes to acknowledge it or not, Germany’s example constantly pops up.

How can so many people stand by and watch the country descend into madness?

The best way to visualize this capacity is to watch the movie The Stanford Experiment. If you’re even slightly interested in the psychology of collective misbehavior, this is the easiest shortcut to benchmark how things go astray so deeply, even with intelligent and otherwise kind people.

The same effect applies to police, the military, or even people making decisions in business.

Anyone who’s never experienced the environment of a production line might not understand it. Each employee is present to earn a living and mostly do a good job. Those who own the production line want to profit while providing a living for those who work there. An interesting thing often happens, especially in poultry and similar industries.

The need for profit puts those in charge of the environment, the efficiency, and the speed of the production line often blurs the line of humanity by increasing the demands on those working it. It becomes hard to perform the job safely over time. People suffer the indignity of sometimes being able to exit the line long enough to take care of their basic bodily needs. For some, it becomes easier to dehumanize those who perform the jobs in order to be profitable and efficient.

The above can’t be explained to someone who hasn’t experienced it.

The same effect applies throughout our society. We justify less than a living wage, even though we know these jobs are necessary and that our collective decision to fail to pay sufficiently to live even a basic life is causing misery. All of this is based on economic concerns rather than the primary focus of human happiness and dignity. It is a them problem rather than an us problem.

We don’t provide universal health insurance, even though doing so would cost less than our current system. But this does not stop us from passively watching as millions of people suffer from a lack of health care or go bankrupt.

We put on our hats of authority and often forget the results of callousness. It’s our job, we think. Society apparently wants it to be that way, or we would have intervened to change it. We make decisions without consideration for how they impact people, or we are put in a position to be powerless to change things.

We marginalize certain groups. Over time, this gives us a silent yet undeniable tendency to view others as lesser. This justifies our collective behavior that often results in denigration or harm to the people in those groups.

My upbringing gave me an unholy understanding of the possibility of violence inside people. Even the pious in my family found ways to justify turning a blind eye toward what can only be called evil. Family who could observe a child being hurt and find ways in their minds, especially based on the societal norms around them, to fail to act to protect them, were they evil? Or were they just the product of their environment? Several of them held dear their holy books – and did not react well when I grew up and became confrontational about the disparity between their alleged message of love and kindness. That message had justified their deliberate choice to do nothing.

People in history are no different from us, even if we want to think they were. This gives us a pass and carte blanche to continue to behave inhumanely, even if we are technically just doing our job or fulfilling our role as citizens.

Love, X

Lost

It is the office itself that yields the honor and respect, rather than the person temporarily assuming its duties.

The expectation of someone behaving in a presidential manner is one that’s been shattered. For some, this is a welcome change. For others, it’s a chaotic and devastating reality.

We have demonstratively proven that anyone can become president. 

Growing up most of us were superficially exposed to the civil war. Almost all we learned was of dates and places and broad themes. We did not then viscerally understand how a nation could become so irreparably shattered. 

We go about our lives because that’s what we can do. 

Regardless of your political affiliation, those of us paying attention now unfortunately feel it in our bones. Whether you’re excited about the upheaval recently brought to Washington or you’re onvinced that our government is in jeopardy, I don’t think people will generally deny that this is something much different.

We are united on paper much in the same way that Jefferson’s hollow words about all men being equal applied only to white wealthy men. 

The intelligent people I trust are saying the same thing. Countries who were once allies are unilaterally warning one another and the world. People have shouted that the sky is falling and cried wolf before. It feels different this time because it is. 

This isn’t Clinton refusing to resign even though he should have. Or Bush demonstrating incompetence. 

I will be surprised if the end of February has not brought us to cataclysm. 

People need stability, as does the economy, and society in general. 

The struggle through the generations to create a reality in which all people, regardless of belief, religion, skin color, or their sexual identity could coexist in peace now resembles a dystopian fantasy. 

Power and progress are both unstable. The problem with authority and authoritarianism is that they both fall into chaos. 

Chaos is inevitable. Entropy governs the universe. 

Those who currently seek to redefine America will learn the lesson. 

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Pranks

“Every book is a mystery novel if you tear out the last 15 pages before reading it.”

My dad loved doing this to people. Imagine reading 245 pages only to discover that the last chapter is gone. Mom wanted to murder him more than once. Uncle Buck laughed about it after the fact. Mr. Dunivan, dad’s boss and cousin by marriage? He was the perfect victim for Dad. I don’t remember all the details, but Dad put a dirty magazine right on the dashboard of Mr. Dunivan’s car more than once. Or on his office desk. Mr. Dunivan’s mom initially had a conniption fit about it, but after discovering that Dad pulled the prank, she laughed like she was dying. Due to that prank, I realized you could LEAVE any magazine or book you wanted in a doctor’s office, friend’s house, etc. This realization made for some inexpensive fun for me as I got older.

Years ago, I used to keep my mom supplied with books, music, and movies. Even though I did it by accident, the final few minutes of the film Seven were missing from the end of one of the VCR tapes I’d sent her. Initially, she was convinced I did it on purpose – and pissed. Given its “head in the box” gut-wrenching ending, it was quite the coincidence that Seven was the particular movie in question. I re-taped it and sent it to her. It was a joy to mess with her sometimes. Putting the craziest random movies on tapes, inserting a death metal song into a collection of class country songs, or adding screams at maximum volume when she least expected it.

When MP3s became popular, it was easier than ever to prank people with wild, unexpected audio files in the middle of their gifted CDs. One of my victims rolled into the Silver Dollar City parking lot, blaring one of my mix CDs. I had inserted the Cheech Marin dialogue from “From Dusk ’til Dawn.” (The one where he is selling something I can’t mention here.)

I sometimes reminisce about pranks that I witnessed. I hated so much about my Dad, but I loved the fact that he could audaciously pull off some of the most outrageous pranks, ones that you couldn’t be certain might result in a heart attack, mandatory anger management enrollment, or (hopefully) small explosions.

One way I know I’m not my usual self is that I lose interest in spontaneous shenanigans. It’s a tell-tale sign for me.

The prank is on us, though.

You got up this morning, assuming you’d pass through the day to its completion.

To know the ending of these cold hours in front of us.

It’s not true, though.

Some of us have our final pages ripped out. We just don’t know it yet.

Love, X
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PS The picture is one of my parents after they remarried. Dad died nine months after they remarried. Shockingly, Mom was not the cause of his demise.
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To Be An Ass

If you need proof that sometimes I’m an ass..

I waited patiently at the counter of the inconvenience store. Not only is it perennially short staffed, but it was shortly after the expected shift change. I waited two to three minutes for the clerk to do her thing.

A woman came in behind me. I could hear her stamping her foot and muttering under her breath. “Geez, take your time buddy.” That’s not all she said. But you get the idea.

I turned politely and said,”I apologize for the wait. It’s shift change.” I smiled and nodded. The look on her face could best be described as a hybrid between spoiled milk and what a fart would look like if it took human form.

She rolled her eyes and ignored me.

To my delight, it took the clerk another two minutes to finish. The clerk exchanged a commiserating glance with me at the other customer’s behavior. The staccato click of the woman’s feet tapping the floor sounded like a drummer who took too much ephedrine.

I’m fairly quick on the draw. But giving me even a minute to plot my verbal revenge?

When I was done, I thanked the clerk and told her it was no imposition at all for her to have taken a bit to get her day started.

The woman behind me flung her items on the counter as if she had been attacked by wild bees.

“Hey, Karen, I hope you have the day you deserve,” I told her as she briefly made eye contact.

I heard the gears grind in her head as she attempted to understand exactly how I had had insulted her.

The clerk burst out laughing before she could stop herself.

Because I was already in an altered mood, I bowed slightly and made my exit.

I hope Karen does have the day she deserves.

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