Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset

As a pet owner, I am well versed in the ‘Art of the Protest’. My cat organizes a rally of one on the daily to protest my lack of attention in issues relating to food. She gets her recommended amount in order to keep her stylish indoor feline figure, plus a couple choice treats. I am doing what the nice veterinarian man told me. But despite my continued efforts to serve and relentlessly please – I walked out of my bedroom this morning and found this scene:

 I didn’t know whether to laugh, run and hide in a remote northern location or turn the hoses on her. I opted for the release of a catnip bomb and the situation was then quickly defused. She’ll undoubtedly be back tomorrow and every day after till I cave. I often must leave this space in an attempt to flee feline persecution (persecution at the hands of a cat). We’ve had several lengthy conversations to discuss how we may co-exist without conflict and I feel (I can’t be sure) that she would like complete and total freedom to consume as much food as she wants all the time and without judgement or consequence. Wait… is that a thing that can be done? Asking for myse…. the cat.

 A protest is a public expression of objection, disapproval or dissent towards an idea or action, typically a political one.

Protests have existed for a LONG time… probably even before they started documenting these types of demonstrations back in the 16th century.

It has been suggested that it took over 100,000 men, 20 years to build the Great Pyramid of Giza (between 2560 B.C. and 2540 B.C.). The workforce is thought to have consisted of thousands of skilled tradesmen and paid laborers, as opposed to slaves. And I can guarantee you, that somewhere during that 20-year period… at least one guy had a problem with the working conditions and kicked up a sandstorm that started a protest.

Countries all around the world have protests ALL THE TIME and the good old internet has made knowledge of these discords more accessible. I feel that is a good thing… unless you plummet down the rabbit hole and get lost in the thickets of despair when you read up on people protesting more than a simple mask mandate.

Here are just a few of the most recent ones:

October 2019, Bangladesh: STUDENT MURDER PROTESTS (lasted one month)

TRIGGER:  Murder of Abrar Fahad, a student who posted anti-government content on his Facebook feed.

MOTIVATION: Concern over the increasing levels of political violence, especially from the Chhatra League, the youth wing of the ruling Bangladesh Awami League.

KEY PARTICIPANTS: Students.

OUTCOMES: No policy/leadership change in response to protests.

 March 2020, Mexico: FEMICIDE PROTESTS (lasted three weeks)

TRIGGER: Recent murders of a 25-year-old woman and seven-year-old girl. Overall increase in gender violence and femicide, and lack of effective government response.

MOTIVATION: Violence against women and lack of government focus on addressing gender-based violence.

KEY PARTICIPANTS: Women, feminist organizations.

OUTCOMES: No policy/leadership change in response to the protests.

 November 2017, Zimbabwe: MUGABE PROTEST (lasted ONE day)

TRIGGER: Military takeover of power, after which protesters began demanding that then president Robert Mugabe step down.

MOTIVATION: Desire for political reforms and repression under Mugabe.

KEY PARTICIPANTS: General public, including war veterans.

OUTCOMES: Mugabe stepped down and was replaced by Emmerson Mnangagwa

 April 2020, Canada: COVID 19 RESTRICTIONS PROTEST (ongoing because that’s how we roll)

TRIGGER: Enactment of coronavirus restrictions, including mask mandates, vaccine mandates, and lockdowns.

MOTIVATION: Being asked to assist in keeping our healthcare system from collapsing and maintaining the sanity of our healthcare workers so they don’t become exhausted and mentally fragile – by wearing a mask, socially distancing and making a concentrated effort to be a good human by thinking of others and just not ourselves.  Wanting carnal relations with Prime Minister Trudeau (allegedly)

KEY PARTICIPANTS: General public, especially antivaccine advocates and conspiracy theorists. Some slow folk.

OUTCOMES: No policy/leadership change in response to the protests (despite what those protesting believe)

 I was in an organized protest once. It was back in high school and we walked out to protest… something. I really don’t remember. This is why I am a terrible protestor and why you don’t want me on that line with you. I’ll most likely get distracted by a squirrel or if someone has brought a dog… I’ll be petting it and not chanting in anger. True story. Also, I think not many people understand how to or what snacks to bring to one of these things. I am by no means picky, but I feel we can do better than individual bags of plain chips and bottles of flat water. We’re protesting. We are not animals. Charcuterie travels well. Just saying.

 THE TOP 3 PROTESTS WE SHOULD BE PARTICIPATING IN:

1. Stop the Normalization of the Term ‘FAKE NEWS’ as A Valid Argument!

This is the modern-day equivalent of “I know you are but what am I?” in an argument from those elementary sandbox days. Only, it’s far more dangerous because now it’s no longer about hurling silly insults, it’s about controlling perception.

Did you know the term was first used in the 1890s when sensational reports in newspapers were common? I didn’t. Proving once again that the real problem we’ve always been facing is people. Slow clap.

It doesn’t seem to matter where information is coming from these days because the moment someone yells “FAKE NEWS” – it changes the dynamic of that story. And there is always ONE (if not more) person willing to carelessly behave like cholera in a broken petri dish and fuck shit up for everybody.

When you whip out “FAKE NEWS” as a counter point and don’t follow that up with proof that isn’t FOX NEWS or far right-wing hot garbage ‘news’ sites (and no, I do not consider CNN or MSN to be reliable either), you’re exposing more than just your position. And from that point in time forward… this is how I feel I need to communicate with you:

 2. JEANS!

In the 1960’s women burned their bras to stand for Women's Rights. At the Miss America Protest in 1968 there were trashcans that were labelled ‘freedom trashcans’ and in these cans, women threw things to be burned such as bras, girdles, curlers, tweezers, high heels, make-up and anything that made them feel oppressed. And yet, no jeans.

Why have we never protested jeans?

Jeans are mean because they will tell you, quite viciously, that you’ve gained weight. Fabric should not be able to hurt your feelings. Fabric should also not be able to embarrass you in front of strangers. And fabric should not try to physically damage your internal organs. Jeans are jerks.

Do I need to rant about trying to put on jeans if you’re still a little damp from the shower? Or moist from humidity? Or while retaining water because you begrudgingly ate plain potato chips at a stupid protest?

How about removing WET JEANS after having been caught in a rainstorm? The violence it takes to be free from water-soaked denim… upsetting.

Or the ongoing controversial topic of, “Should you be washing your jeans?”. Everyone has an opinion. I feel like… if it touches your crotch, you should be washing it at some point. No?

And let’s talk about all those different cuts and styles:

-          Straight (this is discrimination)

-          Slim (fuck you)

-          Skinny (and you too)

-          Boyfriend (to be paired with a dude in a wife-beater T)

-          Loose (is this the opposite of skinny?)

-          Flared (settle down)

-          Bootcut (we cool)

-          Distressed (you are denim, of course you’re troubled)

-          Mom (so Dad jeans are… sweatpants?)

-          Paper Bag (you know you’ve too many styles when…)

-          Sailor (why the fuck??)

And we can’t forget about:

-          High Rise

-          Medium Rise

-          Low Rise

-          Extra Low Rise

-          Hooker Rise

None of it even matters because no jean is the absolute perfect fit. They were originally designed to be durable work clothing, not body-hugging assholes.

You can try on a pair that fits nicely in the waist and legs but is miles too long and makes your butt droop. Or you’ll have this weird gap in the waist (for holding snacks… OMG, SNACK CUT JEANS! Not the same as cargo pants so fuck off!) and one leg will be tight but it’s the right length. Last time I checked, most people have irregular bodies and why we’ve embraced the humble yoga pant despite never going to yoga.

And finally – Jeggings. The fashion world’s answer to a question no one fucking asked… what if we combined leggings with the look of denim?

 3. HISTORY!

I don’t want to be THAT person… you know, the one who says “I told you so”, BUT back in 2020 when Covid-19 broke and proved it wasn’t just a bad flu that would blow over in a few months, I wrote to go back in time and study the Spanish Flu. My main reason for that suggestion? The Spanish Flu lasted two years. And where are we at right now? I fucking told you so, that’s where.

I feel as though people have trouble with history (and not just world history, but personal as well).

Acknowledging it. Learning from it. Trying not to repeat it.

Instead, they – hate it, deny it and want to destroy it.

The only way to change the past, is to travel backwards in time and fix the events that created the present. I’d suggest sending a woman though because we are the ones who get shit done. Send a dude and chances are he’ll accidentally sleep with his great grandmother.

Protesting history has already begun. And I don’t feel the need to expand on how because:

 Protesting history is basically denying our past. And since all the cool kids are taking part, I want to, too.

Items I’d like stricken from my “record”:

-          That time when I lived in small town New Zealand and got so drunk one night, I barfed all over one of those beautifully hand drawn sandwich boards… ruining someone’s creativity and hard work

 -          That time I took the stairs down instead of being lazy and using the elevator. I fell, destroying my knee and all the dreams of high athletic performance on a grand scale

 -          All the times I let those people have a second chance and they proved that sometimes second chances are merely just another bullet they use to harm you

 -          Acid wash JEANS and that one time I wore pink

 -          That time I spoke ‘my truth’ to a broken person

Doesn’t matter that these events helped to shape me and taught me some important life lessons… I just want them gone. Toppled over. Erased. Forgotten. As if they never happened. I’d like to try on a life that does not include anything on that list.

One of my favorite movies is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Google it.

And while I feel we all need a little ‘scrubbing’ of the mind from time to time… I also feel it is imperative to preserve memory (history) no matter how painful, annoying or maddening those recollections may be for us.

Remember back to the movie TITANIC and this dialogue between Rose and Thomas Andrews (ship builder):

ROSE: Mr. Andrews, forgive me. I did the sum in my head and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned, forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard.

THOMAS ANDREWS: 'Bout half, actually. Rose, you miss nothing, do you?  Sleep soundly, young Rose, for I have built you a good ship, strong and true, she's all the lifeboats you need.

And then this a little later on as everything is going to hell….

ROSE: Mr. Andrews, I saw the iceberg and I see it in your eyes... please, tell me the truth.

THOMAS ANDREWS: The ship will sink.

The start of 2020 can be compared to the first exchange. Rose notices a potential problem, but Thomas pats her on the head and basically tells her ‘there is nothing to see here’.

Almost all of 2021 can be compared to the next interaction. Rose, having never really believed him, corners Thomas and presses him for a reality check. Thomas replies with ‘we’re fucked’.

Follow me for more ‘no bullshit interpretations of what people are actually saying’.

I didn’t enjoy 2021 as much as I did 2020. Maybe it was just because of an exhausted spirit or a broken heart or too many changes happening all at once. I am admittedly a slow processor of information. You know who we are… those people who intensely look at you when you’re speaking but you’re not entirely sure if we are all there upstairs. And you’re convinced we’ve understood nothing and you’ve wasted your time. There are millions of us out here and trust me, not only have we understood you, we’ve also managed to soak up all the surrounding information you’re not giving us as well as the unspoken parts of your speech and are currently dissecting every miniscule detail in our BrainLab… which is manned by a howler monkey… which is what takes us a little longer to process. I woke up at some point in early 2021 and screamed, “What the fuck is Covid-19?!’.

I feel as though everyone had their hopes pinned on 2021 to be better and 2021 turned around and said:

“Follow me into the gutter, child.”

Now we are starting out in 2022 and it feels… like it did when I was a child and my Mom would bring home a new box of Honeycomb cereal (want to fight about it?) and there was a prize to be had at it’s sugary bottom. Getting to this prize would always prove difficult due to three siblings also vying for the reward within and the strict rule about not opening a new box until all other boxes of cereal were empty. The other problem was sometimes there was no toy, despite written promise of one being inside. The. Horror. If 2022 is one of those teaser boxes after bringing its Big Toy Energy to this dying party, I will burn the internet down to the ground for lying to me, again

I can no longer watch the news. And I know so many of you feel the exact same way. I didn’t say I wish to no longer be informed, but rather – the world is a dumpster fire and I’m tired of hearing about it ALL THE FUCKING TIME.

I’m not sure where your state of mind is at, at this moment, but mine is slowly morphing into an unsolved Rubik’s Cube with 25% of the colored stickers missing or starting to peel away. Not that my brain and its shitty extended family, thoughts, have ever been agreeable… I at least always had a chance of figuring stuff out because I could visualize a finished product. Now, turning the cube makes absolutely no sense because all the potential and excitement has been ripped off by the likes of the Marjorie Taylor Greenes and Kyle Rittenhouses of the world.

But, it’s fine. Everything is fine.

I’ve never really thought too much about the ‘supply chain’. I go to the store and assume they have my 40oz bottle of imported prison hooch in stock. I don’t think about how it arrived at the store. I just know when it’s not in stock, I wonder which inmate is being lazy. I naturally just assume what I need will always be there because for the most part, it’s always been in stock. Is that entitled thinking? I’m sure someone will tell me as that’s a thing now.

When everyone was being lock downed, everyone started baking. The demand for yeast skyrocketed because everyone decided to become bread makers. At one point I could not escape people and their fucking Sourdough Starters. I was being asked if I had any yeast at least three times a week for a very long time because all the grocery stores ran out of it… and flour was being purchased by the cart load. As a home-baker type person, I now found myself searching for items that I would normally find quite easily and in great quantity. For instance, cupcake dividers for cake boxes. Baking powder. Icing sugar. When speaking with employees from grocery stores, they all said the same thing: “this is madness”. But what it really was, was demand for supplies. And getting those supplies became complicated.

The three words I’ve come to hate – DUE TO COVID.

DUE TO COVID your shipment will be so fucking late, you’ll forget about it before it ever arrives

We are unable to process your request DUE TO COVID screwing up our staffing situation

We are closed (wait for it) …. DUE TO COVID

DUE TO COVID I won’t be attending your party because it doesn’t appeal to my introverted side (that’s mine)

But here is the thing…

I am not complaining. Maybe I’m too stupid to complain. Maybe certain inconveniences just didn’t bother me so much because in the grand scheme of things – they revealed themselves to be unimportant. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve shed many things that became insignificant… DUE TO COVID. And I gained a greater appreciation for one’s ability to pivot, survive and keep moving forward… DUE TO COVID. See how annoying that gets?

SIDE NOTE: I can’t write anymore about panic buying toilet paper. Already tackled that back in 20fuckyou. BUT it’s nice to see much less of that now in 20stillfuckingyou because smash and grab robberies are steadily on the rise and I had Winter 2021/22 as my pick in my fantasy league for when the live action version of THE PURGE would happen.

While enduring lockdowns back in March 2020, I’d entertain myself with walking for hours throughout my neighborhood and city. I highly suggest this activity because you miss out on so much when just speeding by in your vehicle. And wandering is good for the soul. I’d often encounter many other people doing the exact same thing as me and as we’d pass on the sidewalk there was always either a nod of recognition or a brief exchange of pleasantries acknowledging that we were all going through this shit, not together, but as human beings. I dislike people as a rule, but it made me weirdly happy to ‘connect’ with complete strangers. The smiles. The waves. The genuine greetings. The bad jokes about our current situation. I enjoyed it all.

Flash forward – no one says ‘hello’ anymore. No more smiles. No more waves. No more pleasantries. I feel used.

There is an underlying current of uncivilized, bloated hostility out there now and it throws me off. More so than ever before. People are ruder. More impatient. Fuller of anger at the little things. And all too willing to shove their opinions at you after doing “research” on Twitter and Facebook or YouTube. Everyone knows real information comes from TikTok.

Even I feel increased fury within myself. And it’s coming out in weird ways. For instance, I’ve moved beyond just yelling at those House Hunters on TV for bitching about paint colour. If I really want to let my rage fly, I’ll force myself to view an episode of Tiny House Hunters (no, not tiny people, tiny homes). The moment one of those fuckers makes a single remark about something being “too small”, I legit lose my shit. Bear with me while I quickly explain myself – You’re searching for a tiny space because, AND I QUOTE: “I don’t need much space; seems like a waste”. You don’t then get to subject us, the viewers, to whining about how you find the storage space in a 212sqft home on wheels… terrible. Or how you thought the space would be bigger. I swear to ggaaawd I want to murder these people and stuff them in that home’s toilet /shower /dishwasher / laundry combo.

But, it’s fine. Everything is fine. I’m FINE.

I want to keep on the topic of this underlying current of hostility because it’s not so underlying anymore. Whether it started during the pandemic or before *cough* 2016? *cough* it doesn’t appear to be going anywhere and in fact, is gaining momentum. And I don’t even know where to start on this… racism, anti-vaxxers / anti-maskers, mandates, over wokeness, cancel culture, climate change, political strife, Joe Rogan… fuck I could go on for while here. But instead, I’m going to touch on just one – The Freedom Convoy up here in Canada.

Look, I am all for exercising your right to protest. I am also a defender of freedom of speech. But know this about me – I believe in accountability and consequences when you exercise these FREEDOMS. If you instigate a situation with someone in a bar; insulting them while using your right to speak freely and they punch you in the face… that punch is YOUR consequence for talking garbage. The potential arrest and charges will be the consequences for the other person. You both will be held accountable. See how that works? And how easy that is to understand? I swear I’ve written all this before in a previous piece. Getting some real déjà vu over here.

I’ve spent some time hanging out on this Freedom Convoy’s Facebook page. I do not engage; I only read and observe. (Side note: I’ve engaged once. They were using a quote from someone and got her name wrong. So, I pointed it out for them and asked if they could do better. I was called dumb. Hot take.) I do this in an effort to understand the people involved and those who support the convoy. They are also providing live streams from downtown Ottawa and I like getting some boots on the ground coverage from sources that are not the media. This is not me taking a piss on the media. This is me simply saying I want more coverage than the three minutes it appears to be getting on some channels. I’ve been watching videos from all sorts of angles and viewpoints. Again, I’m just trying to understand and attempting to craft a well-rounded opinion.

There are moments when I can see the point of the Convoy folks… they don’t want the vaccine mandated so they’re forced to inject something into their bodies that they don’t believe in as they don’t trust science. OK – I hear you. I truly do. I’ll side with those of you with valid and real health concerns over the vaccine. The problem is – the others.

The classless brats who harass employees that have been tasked with checking vaccination cards. Those who harass healthcare workers and block entrances to hospitals. That guy who threw himself down on the ground in a Costco and had a legit tantrum because he was asked to wear a mask while shopping. The “adult” toddlers who purposely cough on others and laugh. Those who don’t respect the decision made by others to get the vaccine, despite wanting respect for their own choice. There are plenty of individuals supporting the convoy screaming for freedom by imposing their jackassery on people trying to do what they believe is the right thing.

Basically, they don’t want to do anything they don’t want to do regardless of what it could mean for our healthcare system and those who need its services. I’d call them children, but that would be an insult to actual children. Instead, they claim their freedoms are being taken away. Instead, they’re claiming Canada is becoming a communist country. Instead, they’re bastardizing things to suit their cause. Like, The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Instead, they’re spreading misinformation while claiming doctors and scientists are the ones leading us down a deadly path. Yes, question everything you hear – including the bullshit coming out of your own mouth.

For me, that’s much of why I’ve willingly taken the vaccine. For others. Am I a hero for this? Fuck no. I’m just a person doing her best to help those around me without expecting a thank you. A parade would be nice though… something understated, on a Saturday afternoon with lots of snacks. Scotch. The Foo Fighters. The cast of Yellowjackets.

The apparent theme of the Freedom Convoy’s FB page is – PEACE LOVE UNITY FREEDOM. Sounds delightful. But it has become a chant. And I am not a fan of a chant. It is a well-known brainwashing technique used by cult leaders and dictators to indoctrinate their followers. Look it up. Or just remember this one: ‘Lock her up! Lock her up!’.

The person responsible for making their FB posts starts each one with those four words. Most brainwashing uses chants which are often comprised of just a few simple words. And for good reason – less intelligent people respond better when it’s easy to understand and to remember. If you can get a large group of people to continually repeat your chant, it sounds powerful. And if you’re in that crowd, chanting or even not chanting (at first), you will be overcome by the sheer enthusiasm and probably find yourself adrenalized. You’re suddenly high and you’ve no idea how that happened but you feel the need to chase that feeling. Now that they’ve got you, they can tell you anything and purposely point you in any direction they require.

I mentioned watching videos from people on the ground and right in the middle of the protest. Some of these videos are of protestors doing good things… like shoveling the snow off the memorial or helping to feed the homeless or cleaning the streets and disposing of all the garbage. I’d be so much more impressed if I didn’t feel these were low key propaganda films. (I know, now I’m just getting ridiculous. It’s because I went dry from alcohol on January 2nd and I spend more time with my coherent self. Sucks) But these clips are effective not in winning over those who disagree with their “occupation” of downtown Ottawa, but in keeping their supporters on board. The organizers of this convoy are not stupid. Do not underestimate their cleverness.

This FB page is, for the most part, peaceful. And while there is no talk of violence or rioting etc. and organizers repeatedly remind people to be respectful while in downtown Ottawa (must keep up appearances)… I’ve noticed far too much support for the likes of Tucker Carlson and Sean Hannity who’ve brought their brand of discounted, basement intelligence to Canadian politics. As if we need more of that bullshit. And Trump. The rotund orange herpes blight on the world.

You can’t call yourself a peaceful protest when you’re Nazi adjacent. And by this, I mean, if you’re in a crowd protesting (your absolute right to do so) and you’re standing in UNITY with people who are waving the Confederate flag, or displaying swastika symbols on their jackets or showing their support for QAnon… to borrow some words from Jeff Foxworthy – you might be a racist. Own it or go home. Or better yet, denounce their beliefs and them (several times) and show us that you won’t tolerate those people. Because you know what? They are hijacking your message.

Quick history lesson: Across much of the world, the swastika is the ultimate banner for genocide and intolerance. It is a symbol that became irreparably tarnished the moment it was co-opted by Hitler. But it is important to acknowledge that the swastika represented something entirely different for thousands of years before its appropriation by the Nazi party and that there are many who still consider it a sacred symbol.

There will always be white supremacists just as there will always be people who dislike white supremacists. I’ve always held a small fascination with this group. I’m white, but I’ve never felt particularly supreme and I feel as though I’d benefit from some pointers. I mean, not in the hair and fashion department, because… you know, WOW, but in the area of being supreme. I bet if I joined a white supremist group, within time and with lots of training in personal hygiene reduction, highly regrettable tattoos, penis envy and gourmet microwave cookery from inside a rented double-wide trailer… I too would feel superior.

The problem with this Freedom Convoy “movement” – stupid mother fucking people.

But, it’s fine. Everything is fine.

"the ability of an observer to judge the spatial relationships of objects, especially their relative distance from the observer and from one another"

Wylie Coates had a single eye. Evolution saw fit to provide him a skull with only one socket opening for one deluxe pupil package. He was normal on the right side of his face; a freak on the other. One flat smooth abnormality - one sterling blue eye. And with it, he looked out onto a world not overly accepting of a deformity.

His family provided unconditional love. But sometimes he felt as though they were just making the best of an unfortunate situation. Like when you're assigned a middle seat on an airplane while you were counting on a window seat because it's more comfortable on long haul flights… so, to cope you down three high potency sleeping pills with three mini bottles of cheap vodka. You do what you can and hope that when you wake up, it's all over.

The first time Wylie heard someone call him 'cyclops', he froze. He looked around the room and realized everyone was staring at him with both their eyes. He was four. And even though he didn't know what a cyclops was at this time, he most certainly felt the bile in which it was spoken.

"Kids can be mean, Wylie. It's because they don't understand and it makes them afraid," His Mom would say to him in a caring voice, in between sips of her morning coffee. "Don't make any time in your heart for anyone who only wants to hurt you. You're special and deserve the best you can get from this life of yours.” She'd add while peering into him. He didn't need two eyeballs to see her sadness.

Cyclops. Freak. Uni-loser. Butt-hole head. Gross one-eyed penis face. He knew kids could be mean, but he quickly learned by the age of 15, that they were also pretty stupid. For this reason, Wylie didn't have many friends and of the few he did - he could never fully trust their intentions. He'd heard his Mom on the phone with Raymond Verve's Mom, practically bribing the poor woman to bring her son over to play with Wylie.

"I'll make us a delicious Cobb salad and sweet tea; I've got fresh baked pastries and I can whip up some pizzas for the boys. We just put a trampoline in the backyard and of course bring your swimsuits and take a dip in the pool. Please. It would mean so much to both Wylie and I if you came. Please".

Raymond Verve lived four houses down. He was slightly pudgy and laughed without ever opening his mouth to let the sounds out. He spoke softly, but often; his hands always telling a story while his beer bottle brown eyes darted from left to right and up and down. Wylie liked him. If Raymond felt pressured to play with Wylie, he certainly didn't show signs of being uncomfortable or bored. In fact, Raymond was innocent with his comments and curiosity. Something Wylie enjoyed.   

"Do you ever run in to walls or fall into open man holes?" He'd ask.

"Walls... sometimes. Open man holes... not yet."

One day Raymond placed a pirate patch over his left eye so he could experience life in partial darkness.

“I feel like I’m missing out on half of everything. I need to keep turning my head to the left so I can get the full picture. Do you ever feel like that?” Raymond spun and spun until he became dizzy and fell down.

“I have two good ears and I can hear everything. I don’t need to be able to see the full picture as long as I stay quiet and listen. Even silence has a sound. Most people think it’s obnoxious... like it clangs together like pots and pans, but that’s not what I hear. It sounds more like... a scream.”

The first time I ever set eyes on Naomi Osaka was when she walked out, onto the courts, for the 2018 US OPEN WOMAN’S FINAL against her idol, Serena Williams (who played a distracted game, causing great controversy and turmoil during the match). Headphones securely attached to her ears, head down and fully focused. With a slight raising of her eyes and a wave acknowledging the crowd when her name was announced before returning to her safe space… a sly smile crept up on me. True blooded introverts will always recognize one of their own.

She was only 20 and ended up defeating Williams to earn her first ever Grand Slam. The first ever Japanese woman to win a Grand Slam singles event.

Let’s just quickly break down that last sentence:

-          Only 20

-          Playing against her childhood idol AND LEGEND Serena Williams

-          Wins her first ever Grand Slam

-          Represents an entire country with her victory

No pressure at all.

I’ve no need to write out anything about Osaka’s accomplishments. They’re impressive and don’t need my $1.11 worth of attention. Instead, I wish to focus on this unbelievably strong young woman’s ability to be a pillar of class, intelligence and perhaps a somewhat reluctant role model. Because introverts do not like to be the center of attention and every moment spent giving our energy away means 1000 moments in solitude to try and gain it back.

If you’ve just Googled Naomi Osaka (no judgement), I hope you noticed those eyes. She is one of those rare individuals who does not have to speak a word about herself for you to know her depth of character is probably bottomless. And she has consistently proven it on and off the courts in the last three years.

What I really want to bring attention to is Osaka’s recent choice to withdrawal from The French Open.

She won her first match and made the decision to skip her media obligations stating that these interactions with the press were damaging to her mental health; causing her great anxiety. She was fined $15,000 by the French Open and warned that she could face expulsion from the tournament following her decision not to speak with the press during the competition.

One day later she announced her withdrawal from the competition with this public statement:

“Hey everyone, this isn’t a situation I ever imagined or intended when I posted a few days ago. I think now the best thing for the tournament, the other players and my wellbeing is that I withdraw so that everyone can get back to focusing on the tennis going on in Paris. I never wanted to be a distraction and I accept my timing was not ideal and my message could have been clearer. More importantly, I would never trivialize mental health or use the term lightly.

The truth is I have suffered long bouts of depression since the US Open in 2018 and I have had a really hard time coping with that.

Anyone that knows me knows I am introverted, and anyone that has seen me at tournaments will notice that I’m often wearing headphones as that helps dull my social anxiety.

Though the tennis press has always been kind to me (and I wanna apologize to all the cool journalists who I may have hurt), I am not a natural public speaker and get huge waves of anxiety before I speak to the world’s media.

I get really nervous and find it stressful to always try to engage and give you the best answers I can.

So here in Paris I was already feeling vulnerable and anxious so I thought it was better to exercise self-care and skip the press conferences. I announced it pre-emptively because I do feel like the rules are quite outdated in parts and I wanted to highlight that.

I wrote privately to the tournament apologizing and saying that I would be more than happy to speak with them after the tournament as the Slams are intense.

I’m gonna take some time away from the court now, but when the time is right, I really want to work with the Tour to discuss ways we can make things better for the players, press and fans.

Anyways hope you are all doing well and staying safe, love you guys I’ll see you when I see you.”

Athletes go through media training.

Media training is a specialized form of communication training for interacting with media. The goal of media training is to assist and prepare someone for representing themselves or an organization. It teaches them how to predict questions, avoid common traps, and focus on delivering any messages they want to get across.

Media training does not help you cope with your mental health.

Osaka’s statement surprised many… probably because of its raw openness. Here is a 23-year-old champion whose career is just beginning and she just told the WORLD – she hasn’t been doing well in the past three years.

Let’s quickly flash back to that 2018 US OPEN FINAL in which she beat Williams.

It wasn’t a happy win.

Williams was penalized for a coaching violation, then threw her racket down in the second set for a point penalty. The umpire awarded a game to Osaka to put her up 5-3 after a third violation, for verbal abuse, after Williams called him a thief. And while Williams and Osaka had an emotional embrace after the match, Williams refused to shake the hand of the chair umpire. The crowd, who favored Serena, booed relentlessly at what unfolded.

During her post game interview, Osaka said: “I know that everyone was cheering for Williams and I’m sorry it had to end like this, I just want to say thank you for watching the match.”

In what should have been the most triumphant moment of her career, Osaka ended up apologizing for winning. (I will not tantrum on women having to apologize for being awesome, I promise)

Once upon a time the words “mental health” felt taboo. There is still a slight stigma behind psychological balance when it tips towards feeling NOT OK. And if I’ve said it 1000 times, I’ll say it another 1000 times – it is my firm belief that 94% of the world’s population is prancing around with undiagnosed mental disorders. Yes, I made that percentage up and it is merely based on… oh I don’t know, watching people be themselves.

One more time for the people in the nosebleed section – this world class athlete who was born to perform, whose drive and passion are formidable on their own, who has a loving and supportive family, young girls who are looking up to her and whose shy, quiet nature conceals undeniable strength both on and off the court… confessed to being NOT OK and removed herself from potential glory, accolades, a huge pay-day and heaps more adoration from fans all over the world in order to protect her health.

If you’re not cheering for her right now, you should be.

On those days when I don’t feel OK even the smallest decision appears overwhelming. Imagine having to make the choice to withdraw from an international tennis competition possibly letting down your coaches, supporters and anyone who has put an ounce of energy into your career.

While I applaud Osaka for putting herself first, there are a few others who have not only mocked her but also attempted to shame and poke at her for the decision she made. And this is where I’ve come to shine.

This began when some conservative radio host named Clay Travis (Side note: let me save you a Google search on this 42-year-old fuck-knuckle… he’s your typical insolent, misogynistic little boy in an adult body who loves attention for making shit out of his mouth hole instead of his ass) tweeted, "Since saying she's too introverted to talk to the media after tennis matches, Naomi Osaka has launched a reality show, a Barbie, and now is on the cover of the SI swimsuit issue." Proving he is severely lacking in altruistic intelligence. And possibly jealous because the only magazine who MIGHT put him on the cover is… TRASH PANDA: The monthly publication for bottom feeders.

Here is a pic of Clay Travis doing an impression of himself…

 After his tweet, Megyn Kelly chimed in with, "Let's not forget the cover of (& interview in) Vogue Japan and Time Mag!"

Osaka responded with, “Seeing as you’re a journalist I would’ve assumed you would take the time to research what the lead times are for magazines, if you did that you would’ve found out I shot all of my covers last year. Instead, your first reaction is to hop on here and spew negativity, do better Megyn."

And because Kelly is incapable of growth, she came back with this, “Osaka blocked me while taking a shot at me. She is apparently arguing that she shot her many covers b/4 publicly claiming she was too socially anxious to deal w/press. Truth is she just doesn’t like Qs she can’t control. Admit it.”

Well thank you Megyn, just really, really thank you so much for your acidic insight. I’m thrilled for your input because now you can take my output and shove it in that hot garbage receptacle you call a butt.

You are unnecessary. In a world full of journalists and commentators – you’re an unnecessary cog trying to convince people of your worth. Let me help you with that… you do not have any. I’m going to throw my Hail Mary here and say you must be getting worried about your career and that is why you’ve jumped on Osaka for NO REASON. The distance in which you’ve fallen (from your own show on Fox News for years, a failed existence at NBC where your contract was terminated EARLY because you’re too stupid to understand cultural appropriateness when it comes to blackface to creating your own production company because you’re tainted goods now and then launching a podcast on Sirius XM) must make you dizzy. I mean, what could be next for your career? Turd farmer? Consultant for Ivanka Trump’s shoe line?

You’re a bully. And I fucking hate bullies.

Maybe try due diligence. Know the reality of a situation before you come for people. But that would require compassion and effort. It’s easier for you to be caustic for the purposes of staying relevant. You’d rather attack a young woman who is pursuing her passions (tennis and fashion) and making decisions for herself that protect her own well-being. Such a class act Megyn. What I would give to watch Osaka serve a tennis ball straight through your face.

Ok, rant over.

When we see high caliber athletes like Naomi Osaka, we often hold them to these impossible standards while at the same time forgetting their thoughts and emotions can be just as devastating and confusing as ours. We wish for them to be these real-life mortals who can achieve the feats of a superhero in an athletic arena – often for our entertainment. And to think of them as anything less than always mentally OK, just doesn’t compute for some people.

People, check on your athlete friends. They may be conditioned not to speak about how they are feeling, but it doesn’t mean they should be ignored.

Netflix has a terrific documentary on Osaka right now and it’s something you need to watch.

Also, please read this piece by NHL goalie, Corey Hirsch. I feel not enough people were exposed to what he wrote:

https://www.theplayerstribune.com/articles/corey-hirsch-dark-dark-dark

There are a few things in this world that gross me out to my very core:

-          Children eating ice cream. Just no. More gets on their face than in their mouths and it activates my gag reflex and I must look away in horror. And someone get the hose because I am not touching any of it come clean up time.

-          Feet.  There are no words

-          Bestial older men who terrorize young women and under-age girls with sex and those who help them engage in lascivious behavior. Should this not be something that disgusts everyone?

My zodiac sign pegs me as more of a leader than a follower. I find this laughable, but some around me might argue that I am capable of taking the reigns, but not always the best at adhering to authority exerted by others. If I am challenging you for your position, it’s because you’re either a bully or a fucking senseless shitbag and I don’t want those around you subjected to your vast lack of insight. Because in reality, I am super happy to follow intelligent, respectful human beings and even behave myself. It means I can just smile and nod and day dream – my favorite pastime.

If you are not familiar with the name Ghislaine Maxwell, I still hope you cringe at the name Jeffery Epstein. Convicted sex offender and all-around sack of malevolent slime. Also, a coward. Also, unfortunately dead (either by his own hand *I don’t believe it* or snuffed out by some frightened people of great power *I believe this*) before he was able to be made someone’s bitch in prison. Such a tragedy when sex offenders / sex traffickers don’t live long enough in prison to be passed around and used like a cum dumpster. Sometimes the punishment SHOULD fit the crime.

There is plenty of information out there about Ghislaine Maxwell. Here are a few key points on her:

-          Her father was Robert Maxwell. He was a British media proprietor, a former member of Parliament (MP), a suspected spy, and a fraudster (having misappropriated the pension funds of his employees). Just to give you a good idea of who Robert Maxwell was: he was the inspiration for the villainous media baron Elliot Carver in the 1997 James Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies. I. Am. Jealous!

 -          Her father died in November 1991. He had boarded his 190-foot yacht, aptly name, Lady Ghislaine and found the next morning naked, spread-eagled and afloat in the Atlantic. Two autopsies could not conclusively prove a cause of death, but most say suicide because he was set to answer questions surrounding his corporation’s billion-pound debt load that was distributed among at least nine different international banks and investment firms, and the massive hole in its pension reserves. In simpler terms – he was fucked

 -          Robert Maxwell left his family in ruins. Ghislaine, his favorite child whom he groomed in his image from a young age, was understandably crushed

  -          Ghislaine is best known for being a socialite with immense connections among the international elite. It’s been stated that she was quite personable, a little bit quirky and therefore often a standout at parties; with many people being drawn to her. (Side note: I recently watched the HBO documentary on her titled, ‘Epstein’s Shadow’ and the tagline under ALL of the people they interviewed who knew her on a social level read, “former friend of Ghislaine Maxwell”. This just made me laugh. I’ve tried to envision the conversation where these people demanded that FORMER be included. Yes, quickly distance yourself from the stink less they think you too might smell bad)

  -          Depending on who you listen to, Ghislaine met Epstein in either the late 1980’s when her father introduced them (how apropos) or in the late 1990’s at a party in New York following a difficult breakup with a Count. I wonder what breaking up with a Count looks like, feels like. A Count is a historical title of nobility in certain European countries, generally of average rank in the hierarchy of nobility. So basically, he’s not THAT special. But probably feels he is because, well, he has a title. Just imagine the insult you could hurl at him during the break-up: “Count von Count has a bigger penis than you!” *If you do not know who that is – just leave now because you’re shameful*.

 -          Epstein and Maxwell started out as a couple, but that morphed into more of a companionship / friendship / let’s rape young girls together type situation. You know, how most connections organically evolve.

 -          Ghislaine Maxwell has been accused of befriending minors and attempting to build a relationship with them, then later delivering them to Jeffrey Epstein to abuse. Maxwell would allegedly lure the young girls to Epstein’s residence under the guise of paid massage work. She’d target disadvantaged minors who she thought wouldn’t be able to refuse the money. Maxwell & Epstein allegedly lured slightly older women into their gross lives with the promise to assist in their careers.

 -          Additionally, Maxwell and Epstein have been accused of trafficking some of these girls out to their friends and associates among their extremely elite circle. Most notably, is Prince Andrew. Investigators have identified as many as 36 girls that were victims of Epstein and Maxwell’s sex trafficking ring. Some of them - as young as 14. It’s believed there are many more victims yet to be identified.

 -          Following Epstein’s arrest in July 2019, the FBI started looking for Ghislaine. She went into hiding. Eleven months after Epstein’s “suicide” in prison on August 10, 2019, Maxwell was located. She was arrested in New Hampshire, where she was living a life of seclusion on a sprawling ranch.

 -          Ghislaine Maxwell faces federal charges including transporting a minor for the purposes of criminal sexual activity, and conspiring to entice minors to travel and engage in illegal sex acts. She is awaiting trial in a Manhattan jail. A trial that was to begin July 12, 2021 but has been delayed till the fall at the request of Maxwell.

 You now know all you need to know about Ghislaine Maxwell for the purposes of finishing this piece.

The HBO documentary poised a question and instead of answering it, they’ve pretty much left this viewer with repetitive thoughts and disrupted sleep while trying to answer that very question… ‘Ghislaine Maxwell, Co-Conspirator or Victim?’.

Victim: a person who suffers from a destructive or injurious action or agency / a person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency

My first thought when this question came up: “Wow HBO, if I was a victim of Epstein’s depravity, I’d be so pissed at you right now. Daring to group in the woman accused (several times over) of basically being a fancy pimp and securing playthings for her rich, giant-faced brute and his pals, with the young women whose lives and brain chemistry (yes, I said that: see TRAUMA) have been forever altered by Epstein’s fuckery… BOLD”.

But that thought took me to this thought: “Ghislaine was a Daddy’s girl. And as we know, her dad was a fiend. It is repeated many times in print, that Robert Maxwell conditioned his daughter and corrupted her character. In some twisted way, there might be a case in which she is in fact, a victim. A victim of a severe patriarchal environment that started at a young age and was instrumental in forming her concepts of success, decency and love (given and received)”.

My mind then went straight to this:

 She was raised by a plump, rotten human being and most likely, wanted to please her dad… as most daughters often do, and perhaps never thought to question anything. How many of us are guilty of that?

Robert Maxwell passes (Ghislaine has maintained that he was murdered, but with no evidence to support her claims) and the now lost, without a compass Ghislaine, finds her way to Jeffery Epstein.

I think there is something to be said for what and who we attract into our lives. And for what and who we allow to stay in our lives. I’m just going to assume that the majority of people in this world do not willingly desire to attract destructive, soul sucking wankers into their lives, but have had to expunge a number of them from their existence. Full vision doesn’t always mean you are not blind. Love can be murky and really fuck up those rose-coloured glasses.

Co-Conspirator: A co-conspirator is a fellow conspirator - someone engaged in a secret plan by multiple people to do something evil or illegal

By this definition, Ghislaine Maxwell should be spending a great deal of the rest of her life in prison.

She saw bad stuff. She blinded herself to bad stuff. She facilitated bad stuff. She became the bad stuff.

If I was the prosecuting attorney, I might end with those four sentences. But make it all dramatic… throw in a brief pause after each one… maybe do the Bill Clinton “I did not have sexual relations with that woman” thumb gesture:

 On second thought, considering how intertwined he could be in all of this… I’d most likely just use the classier karate chop into the open palm to bring my points home:

 (Side Note: if you really hate your life, try a deep dive on active hand gestures and how they often provide social leverage)

 So, to finally answer HBO’s question: ‘Ghislaine Maxwell, Co-Conspirator or Victim?’…

As I was told numerous times in counselling… “You are not at fault for the things that happened to you when you were young and had no control. But as an adult, you can’t let those past experiences define you and your actions. If you do, then you are responsible for the things you do now”.

Fault is past tense. Responsibility is present tense.

Ghislaine is not at fault for how she was raised or groomed, but if she lured just ONE girl/woman into Epstein’s clutches to be raped and trafficked, then she is absolutely responsible and should be held fully accountable.

She was a victim who turned into not just a co-conspirator but also a lying coward.

This morning at my gym I was approached by a fellow member; one who’d not seen me in probably 3+ years because she changed locations. I’m not into talking to people at the gym. It’s not a social visit for me, but I know it is for others so I do my best to be an absolute fucking delight while quietly hating my life in those moments. It’s all about balance.

Before there was a mutual greeting or acknowledgment that I even recognized this woman (I didn’t) she proceeded to vomit this gem into my airspace: “Oh my gawd! I’ve not seen you in like forever! You’re not fat anymore! You actually look amazing! Did you get liposuction?? Tell me what you’ve done! Why don’t I see extra skin hanging off you?!”. I shit you not… this is word for word.

Now, I do not know this woman… really at all. I don’t recognize her and my brain believes we’ve had a conversation before, but clearly has not bothered to take notes. And clearly for good reason. Let me paint a brief picture for you – in her 40’s, a forever tiny build, I could probably bench press her many times. (SIDE NOTE: I will often talk about bench pressing human beings not from ego, but for the pure comedy)

In a perfect world, I could just slap the stupid out of this woman and not suffer any consequences. But because I live in this reality, I was left with two options: verbally strip down, embarrass and educate her on how oblivious her gobbledygook was OR smile and nod and play nice, then internalize, smash a killer workout and return home to write it all down in an effort to process this exchange. I am not the idiot whisperer, so here are all my words about this interaction.

I didn’t feel it necessary to launch into specifics with this woman because her opening statement already alerted me to her level of intelligence and I felt anything beyond: “Nope, just been working hard at being fit.” would’ve been a waste of my energy. Why? Because some people are not interested in understanding or even hearing about your struggles with your weight and most definitely do not want to hear about your hard-earned successes. They merely want to let you know that not only did they once see you as inferior and made a point to catalog it into their pea-brains, but they also want credit for recognizing the difference in the “new and improved” version of you by expecting a polite response to their “compliment”.

Fuck off.

That is what I wanted to say.

Fuck off, because you don’t have the right to assume I wouldn’t put in the work.

Fuck off, because you’ve measured my worth based upon how I look.

Fuck off, because you’ve no idea how my story has been written.

Fuck off, because if you don’t, I’m going to follow you around the gym every day and outperform you with heavier weights, longer endurance and better technique. And I’m going to do it with the biggest smile my stupid face can muster.

Fuck off.

That is what I should’ve said.

At the bottom of this entry is a photo. You may think it a terrible photo because it doesn’t really show you anything more than my ridiculously amazing forearms. If you know me, then you’ll know my obsession with those forearms and my attempts to make every picture I have to take – about those stunning beauties. Have I ruined family portraits? Possibly. Have I stolen a bride’s thunder in her wedding photos? Maybe. Have I been asked to get my forearms out of the x-ray machine so the technician can get a clear view of my chest cavity? Yes. But this photo actually represents a whole lot more than my exceptionally crafted forearms.

I took it this morning after my workout.

This image represents exhaustion. It represents 3000+ hours spent in the gym working on myself. All the times I could barely move the next day because of muscle soreness from the previous day’s workout and all the cursing done because of it. STAIRS AFTER LEG DAY - if you understand, you understand. It embodies all the times I was told I wasn’t good enough; that I was literally too much. The constant setbacks and restarts. The injuries. The loss of all hope. The time spent looking in the mirror and hating my very existence. The tears… the thousands of tears. This picture honors all those who have spent their energy to train with and work with and put up with me through this ongoing process. The ones who never gave up or give up on me despite my pushing away (red headed looney toon). It is determination and the realization that this will always be my life. I will always be working on myself in this manner. And lastly, this image is about the love I have found for myself where there was once none.

And my forearms.

See, I barely post about my workouts and never will you get a photo of me showing off for attention. I am hard wired to just put my head down and do the work and clap for my damn self when the pants I bought a year ago, which didn’t fit at all, are now too big. And I swear I am working on accepting authentic compliments regarding the visible outcome of all my efforts, I’m just eternally hard on myself. But when I do put up something showing results, it’s because I want you to believe it can be done. It just takes a lifetime of putting in the work.

In the 1993 movie FALLING DOWN, Michael Douglas plays a working-class guy who is… basically losing his shit all over the place on a horrid hot day in Los Angeles. One scene has him freaking out at a fast-food joint when given a burger that in no way, shape or form resembles the juicy, delicious example in the picture, on the menu. He ends up accidentally (but not really) firing his gun at the ceiling and scaring all those inside. He just wants what he was promised – the burger in the picture. Not the pile of hot garbage he received instead.

I can’t be the only one who sympathizes with this character. Who among us mortal beings have opened up their fast-food burger to discover it is the deflated red-headed step-child, twice removed and with a slightly grey complexion staring back at us? Why does it not look like the fluffy, pristine, tasty offering in the photo… the one tempting us with plump pieces of bacon, crisp lettuce, a vibrant red tomato and a beef patty that actually came from a cow? WHY!?? Because perfection doesn’t fucking exist, that’s why.

Still going to eat the burger though, right? No shame from me.

The oldest definition of "perfection, goes back to Aristotle. In Book Delta of the Metaphysics, he distinguishes three meanings of the term, or rather three shades of one meaning… three different concepts.

That is perfect:

1. which is complete — which contains all the requisite parts

2. which is so good that nothing of the kind could be better

3. which has attained its purpose

Now, we can argue that based upon his “shades of perfection” that many things can actually be considered perfection. And of course, as always… depending on your own preferences.

For instance, I think my Mom’s Shepherd’s Pie is pure perfection.

- It contains all the requisite parts: mashed potatoes, well-seasoned beef, the trio of peas, carrots & corn as well as dabs of other ingredients like parmesan cheese, Worcestershire sauce and tomato paste

- I’ve personally never tasted a Shepherd’s Pie that was better

- It fills me up and makes me deliriously happy

But the reality is – perfection is a construct we hold for ourselves. We have ideas of what is perfect FOR US/TO US.

If asked to build the perfect house, I highly doubt I’d want the same bells and whistles as many of my friends. The addition of a hot tub *barfs in mouth a little* might make someone feel their home is perfect, whereas I feel their home is a possible germ factory and I’d be afraid to black-light many rooms in their house. And they might not enjoy a Scooby-Doo themed recreational room. Even though… come on, it would be perfect.

We’ve all had what we feel are perfect moments. Until a better moment comes along and changes our definition of what is perfect.

The sensation of something being perfect to us sparks emotion… happiness, joy. It can create memories that our minds will hang onto and oft times call back on when we might be lacking current happiness, joy.

There is also no such thing as the perfect person either. Every single being on this planet is slightly askew. We form paradigms for ourselves to find that one person (or people) who is askew in a way we find – perfect. In a way where they compliment our own uniqueness; sparking emotion, creating memories. And some of the time, they are opposite of us in many ways… giving us the chance to learn and grow. (side note: that learning and growing shit – it’s a lifelong process, just in case some people thought they might be done)

We can’t make people perfect. We can’t mold them to our “standards”. We can’t change them in a way they are not designed… just to fit into our “perfect box”. We can’t bend ourselves into an unnatural position to suit someone’s version of flawless. It will not hold because it’s not real. Also, you’ll probably sprain your neck.

How we see someone, might not be how they are, but therein lies the adventure of discovery and the opportunity to accept them just the way they are (or not, and that is when you move the fuck on) … without the added pressure on them of trying to “measure up”.

Let me balance all this out with – imperfection.

I currently don’t live in the same city as my parents, but I do call home at least once a week. It’s part checking up on them (a concept I find amusing because I respect our roles: me-child, them-parents) and part needing to stay connected to something familiar.

I always call early in the morning as I know my Mom is up enjoying her coffee while she nails all the questions on Cash Cab; giving herself quiet kudos. And my Dad will have left the house already to engage in retirement activities like golfing or running errands directly related to golfing. My Mom likes to chat about all sorts of stuff… from how she’s excited to plant their ever-increasing vegetable garden to how much she won on scratch tickets to which renovation she saw on an HGTV program that she’s plotting to undertake that will inevitably annoy my Dad. I like to respond by simply just making her laugh; whether it be imitating reactions my Dad always has to stupid things (which I can do very well) or regaling her with tales of my stupidity and the lack of the wisdom she tried to instill in me that I wished I had taken more seriously.

Quite honestly, it’s simple conversations that I never, ever take for granted because I know how lucky I am to still be able to ring her up and just talk. There is always so much noise in the world and not much of it makes sense, especially currently, so it’s nice to hear about how she is taking on 18 tomato plants this year instead of 11 like last year – despite the house being overrun with tomatoes and the creative ways she had to use them all. If you need some homemade frozen pasta sauce, I know where you can get like 25 big jars.

Two of my most favorite people in the world were my Nan and Pop, my Mom’s parents. They made graceful exits from this world a number of years ago and there is rarely a day that goes by where I don’t think of them.

They were beautiful people who influenced me in many ways and I’d be doing them a great dishonor if I didn’t mention that I am convinced they are playfully haunting me. I mean, FOR REAL. They both had wonderful senses of humor and I’m wholeheartedly sure that is where my own comicalness originated. Watching my Pop endlessly tease my Nan was a thing of joy for the mere fact that he did it out of true affection for her. And my Nan, was a legend - cheeky, sarcastic and could stand her ground.

He would always fetch her coat for her and even helped her put it on. She would hand him a glass of scotch in an effortless gesture of anticipating his needs.  She would craft delicious meals and he’d jokingly needle her that it was terrible, yet eat every morsel and lick his plate. He passed first and she spoke of him daily - “he’s always next to me, bugging me in my good ear”.

Maybe I don’t do things as the norm might dictate, but they were/are my examples. And I wish I could talk to them right now for just 10 minutes.

Banning books is not common practice here in Canada. Instead, we “challenge” certain titles. I love us.

The first book banned in the United States was in 1637. And the name of that book is: New English Canaan.

It was written by an English businessman named Thomas Morton. In 1624, he arrived in Massachusetts with a group of Puritans, but left them because he didn’t want to abide by the strict rules and conventional values that made up their new American society.

Morton stomped off and created his own colony (now Quincy, Massachusetts) with the forbidden old-world customs that the Puritans loathed. The Puritan militia exiled him, sparking his anger. He filed a lawsuit and wrote a TELL-ALL-BOOK. Read that again. The first book banned in America was a tell-all-book critiquing and attacking Puritan customs. It was so harsh that even other New English settlers disapproved of it. He compared the Puritans to crustaceans. Imagine living in a time where the most abhorrent insult was being compared to a lobster (the cockroach of the sea back then). Nowadays people will call you a lousy, dirty heathen for forgetting your reusable grocery bag in the car.

If you ask the all-mighty Google search engine which books have been banned, the first site to come up is this one:

http://www.ala.org/advocacy/bbooks/frequentlychallengedbooks/classics

It gives a substantial list of books that have either been banned or seriously challenged over the years and lists the MANY reasons why. The list contains such classics as:

- The Great Gatsby: Challenged at the Baptist College in Charleston, SC (1987) because of "language and sexual references in the book

- Ulysses: Burned in the U.S. (1918), Ireland (1922), Canada (1922), England (1923) and banned in England (1929). (Side note: this book was thought to be “like the work of a disorganized mind” and that makes me laugh)

- 1984: Challenged in the Jackson County, FL (1981) because Orwell's novel is "pro-communist and contained explicit sexual matter."

-  Of Mice and Men: Banned from classroom use at the Scottsboro, AL Skyline High School (1983) due to "profanity." The Knoxville, TN School Board chairman vowed to have "filthy books" removed from Knoxville's public schools (1984) and picked Steinbeck's novel as the first target due to "its vulgar language."

-  Slaughterhouse Five: Banned in Levittown, NY (1975), North Jackson, OH (1979), and Lakeland, FL (1982) because of the "book's explicit sexual scenes, violence, and obscene language."

I’ve read all these books, except for Ulysses. It’s a 730-page quest I’m not stoked to embark on anytime soon. And with the exception of Slaughterhouse Five, all of these other books were school assignments.

I’ve said this before – I’m a free speech advocate, BUT words and actions have consequences. Do I always agree with those consequences? No. I struggle with ‘cancel culture’ and the unwillingness to let people atone for their behavior. But pulling at that thread right now will start a whole other conversation and I’ll spiral off topic for a long time.

I did a quick search on what books have been banned / challenged recently and found a few:

- Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher (published in 2007)

- The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie                    (published in 2009)

- Beartown by Fredrik Backman (published 2016)

- Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (published 2002)

The reasons range from the books being obscene with very vivid descriptions of sex to being vulgar, graphic and just unnecessary subject matter to the use of filthy words to reference masturbation and themes viewed by many as anti-Christian. A couple of these books were specifically targeted because they were being assigned in high schools and parents were the driving force behind getting these titles removed. Fair enough.

There is always going to be someone who gets offended by some thing. Always. And if they have the drive and can convince enough people to see it their way, well then that some thing could be at risk.

Out of all the books I’ve ever read, I can’t think of a single one I found offensive enough to warrant keeping others from reading those words. And I’ve read Mein Kampf. No, this is not me supporting Hitler. If you want to read it, go for it. But let me save you the time you’d be wasting by reading that book with this quick review: Even Hitler distanced himself from the book.

The recent dust-up around the Dr. Seuss books got me to thinking about books I’d like to see written just so they can then be banned. I’ve come up with three. Lucky you.

1. The Cat Owner’s Guide to Being Owned

Synopsis: So, you got yourself a cat? Welcome to The Thunderdome. Prepare to be dominated! This book will assist you through the process and inevitable transformation into the 1-20 year sentence of being a servant to your house tiger. You will be taught how to cope with your newfound humility because of realizations such as:

1. You are no longer in charge

2. Scooping piss and poop from a litterbox is a chore you willingly took on when you brought that fucking cat into your home

3. Failure to fill a food dish that is already 65% full results in constant pestering and could bring on serious consequences ranging from the destruction of your valuables to urine-soaked bed sheets. Please note: you no longer own any valuables

4. Your size is a non-factor. The house tiger is a brilliant survivor who will not think twice about eating your eyes should you die in your sleep

By the end of this book, you will have come to the conclusion that you may have made a mistake.

Why this book should be banned: If the cats get a hold of it, WE ARE DOOMED.

 2. Your Period and You, by Dr. Peter Tampon

Synopsis: Dr. Tampon is a renowned Florida based gynecologist who understands women and the female experience better than most women. And in this follow up to his multi copy selling debut “Lady, It’s Not Your Hypothyroidism, You’re Just Fat and Lazy!”, he will tell you all the reasons why you get so fucking batshit crazy one week a month. Discover your body through the eyes of a male professional and learn practises to save everyone around you from certain peril should they speak to you during Aunt Flow’s monthly visit. Techniques include: just keeping your mouth shut, crying into your pillow to avoid bothering others with your weeping sounds, going for a long, long walk so no one has to deal with your imagined pain & discomfort and Dr. Tampon’s personal favorite – it’s all in your head.

Why this book should be banned: If it’s not self-explanatory then chances are you’re an actual tampon.

 3. In Absence: A True Crime Novel About The Disappearance of Kindness

Synopsis: It’s 2021 and in the midst of a worldwide pandemic – Kindness is missing. But where did it go? Some will blame The Maskless Deniers – a group of petulant children posing as adults hellbent on spreading selfishness and misinformation about their personal freedoms being violated. Perhaps science is the culprit; with all it’s pesky facts and unashamed insistence that you pay attention. Others will say it’s The Sheeple – those willing to blindly follow without question while forcing others to adhere to public health orders. And then there are those who will say the world is full of jackasses who feel they have invisible permission to create chaos and screw civility in the eye socket, so Kindness packed its bags and left on its own.

Why this book should be banned: Maybe it shouldn’t? Maybe this needs to be written about and just left alone.

I was raised in the Roman Catholic faith. Went to church every Sunday with my family from the time I was four until the age of 19. I was baptized, received my first communion and attended CCD classes (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine). And just for fun and out of curiosity, I've read the bible (New Testament) three times. [I want to quickly share with you the meaning of the word "confraternity": 'a lay brotherhood devoted to some purpose, especially to religious or charitable service'. Already its clear women are not really welcome.]

Once I was free to make my own choices, I stopped going to church. To be honest with you, I couldn't hear myself think over the constant propaganda being served to me by an elderly ornery priest wearing a $2500 robe and asking me to kneel at a $10,000 marble alter while attempting to guilt me into giving the church money to help feed the poor. I've never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but I knew something wasn't quite right with this religion. A friend of mine introduced me to the term "recovering Catholic" and I've adopted it as my own.

Do I believe in God? What... a terribly complicated question. In short, yes. In length, I believe in something I can't put my finger on and it has a name. I know I talk to this Universe character a great deal, maybe that’s it? Anyway, the God I believe in... that something with a name I can't accurately put my finger on - is about kindness and compassion, respect, acceptance, tolerance and love. And I mean, for real. Not just because it sounds good in your mouth.

Have you ever looked up the meaning of TOLERANCE?

‘allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one does not necessarily like or agree with) without interference’

The fact I’ve not yet killed anyone, means I am a highly tolerant being. Ego stroke.

You may have your own opinions and beliefs; in fact, I encourage you to form your own opinions and sift through what you do and don't believe. But let other people find their own way. Be who they are to be and if it's a different path than yours... don't tell them they're going to Hell. All that does is stress Satan right the fuck out.

I was taught to pray from an early age. Kneel down beside the bed at night, make the sign of the cross and talk to God. Ask him to bless the people you love, show compassion for those who wronged you and be thankful for everything you've been given. End with the sign of the cross. Although I no longer kneel at the side of my bed or make the sign of the cross, I do still pray. I've never had an issue with prayer. It's a form of communication and communication is king. Even if you believe no one is listening, it truly does help to just have raw dialogue with yourself.

Have I ever used prayer to help me out of a tough spot? Absolutely.

Have I ever prayed for something and promised something else I knew I most likely wouldn't follow through with? Yes. Have I ever prayed then become angry when things didn't go my way? Definitely.

Have I asked for forgiveness, mercy and wisdom? Yes.

 I'm not ashamed of any of those admissions. But I'm not going to print them on a t-shirt and strut around either. I don't feel I am any different than anyone else when it comes to prayer. Evidence of this are the religious contestants on Survivor who ask God for assistance in winning a million dollars so they may do good with all that money.

Currently, for me, prayer is an open-ended conversation that takes place in my soul. There's yelling and screaming. Blame. Crying and swearing. The launching of projectiles and ever so often... peace, laughter, approval and cookies. There's chaos and harmony and somehow, I manage to cultivate enough intelligence to string together a bunch of words to make a half decent sentences from time to time.

This brings me to: The Ten Commandments. Take a quick gander at this so you can get your bearings:

https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/ten-commandments-list

In a nutshell, these are "God's standards" which he wants you to live by.

Going to confession was the worst. Especially as a typical 15-year-old girl. "I am not telling you shit" was pretty much my life's motto so to expect me to open up to an old priest and share my sins and secret thoughts so he may shame me with a mini lecture and an act of contrition, was insanity.

Every time I went to confession, I used the same three "sins":

I disobeyed my Mother and Father                                  

I took the Lord`s name in vain

I lied

I figured this to be believable for a girl my age. If you look at the commandments, I wasn't going to covet my neighbor`s wife or his ox and I certainly wasn't going to get myself another God to worship considering I already couldn't figure out the one I'd been given. And murder? I probably didn't even know what that meant. I mean, until the guidance counselor at my school pointed out to me what suicide was, I had no idea it was even possible to do that to yourself. I wasn't stupid, but rather innocent. And isn't it funny that it took a person of "authority" whose intentions were being governed by a higher power, to bring those kinds of ideas into my brain where they once didn't exist? Something to ponder.

Let's be honest, the Ten Commandments... as they stand right now in current society... a little outdated, right? Technology is rapidly changing how we communicate and behave. And it's time to modernize in order to keep up. I'm not proposing we abolish the original document. I'm not trying to offend anyone or stamp out their beliefs. I know the Ten Commandments is a sacred collection of words that many believe is straight from the mouth of God. Attempting to rip up or shit on something with that much power over so many people... is suicide. (Look Ms. Foster! I learned another way one can harm themselves other than dragging a razor over one's wrists! Your job wasn't meaningless after all!)

I'm merely proposing that someone (ME ME ME) take a stab at writing up a new set of standards which people (YOU YOU YOU) should SERIOUSLY consider following if they wish to achieve a pleasant after life. And the only person you must believe in - yourself.

The first thing I want to do is change the word "commandments" to "suggestions". It's less aggressive and more light-hearted, even though you're still expected to comply. No one wants to be told what to do, not really, and by "commanding" them in a preachy way to curb behavior... well, you're just asking for trouble. Imagine the success rate if Moses had come down from the mountain and said:

“Hey... hi everyone, look, God spoke to me and mentioned something about these ten suggestions He'd like us to seriously consider if we want to get into Heaven. He was pretty adamant that we pay attention and do our best to not ignore this list. I think He spent a lot of time coming up with this stuff... so we really do owe it to Him to try and give this all we got. Ok, thanks everyone... back to not raping women and making false idols out of gold".

I just feel that by changing the wording and therefore tone of this document - you're not alienating the more cantankerous, free-spirited or stubborn people of the world with a menu of demands you expect them to blindly obey.

The second thing I want to do is provide a brief explanation for each "suggestion". There is nothing worse than treating people as though they don't deserve further information when you'd like them to do something that wasn't their idea. Communication is comforting and reflects respect. You can't say: "Because I told you so" or "Just do it" and expect to be well received. All this is going to get you are responses such as: "You're not the boss of me" and "Go fuck yourself".

So, without further ado, I give to you:

The Ten "Suggestions" For A New World

 Please do not update your Facebook status message more than once a day:  This is a sign of vanity, a deadly sin. And it's really annoying to the point where people secretly want to kill you for repeatedly mugging their news feeds with updates in increments of 32 minutes, on the broad details of your existence. No one actually cares here, on planet Self Absorption.

Please do not kill: This is the only original "commandment" included on this new list because it has stood and always will stand the test of time. There are loads of shitty, stupid, selfish & servile individuals in the world and relieving them of the burden of breathing seems like an all-around great idea, but it's actually a terrible idea. Why? Well, for starters... it's not your place to end a human life. It's just not. Life is special. You - not so much. Plus, it causes debilitating pain for a great many people. When you take someone's life away you create a hole inside the people who love them. This hole can never be filled. It will never get smaller. These people will never heal. They might be able to carry on... eat food again one day, maybe buy a new couch, laugh at a joke - but they will never heal. They will walk around, unhealed and with a hole in their heart till their dying day. Don't make holes in other people.

Please resist from being a complete douche bag: (Traditionally the term 'douche bag' is     usually gender specific and applies to men, but for this  "suggestion" it also applies to women, because women can be douche     bags as well. This does not apply to cats. The lives of cats are based upon douche-baggery, but it's cute and therefore exempt)  Being a total jerk is in your bloodline. Eve was a jerk to Adam. Adam was a jerk to God. The snake was a jerk to Eve. God was a jerk to the dinosaurs. And the dinosaurs were jerks to everyone. So... this  "suggestion" is going to be a difficult one not to fail at from time to time. The idea here isn't to be perfect, because that isn't unachievable. But rather, genuinely compassionate and generous when you see someone who wouldn't benefit from you running your truck into their fence and then driving off like a douche bag coward. And the state of being a douche bag isn't always limited to actions befitting a little scamp, no it can also be in the way you dress (Underwear above the pants line? Come on!) Or how you tell uninterested parties about your drunken antics and the loss of your favorite pair of really expensive shoes. Or  tweeting/texting the person next to you while you're in a group setting. Now you can see why pretty much everyone will be unsuccessful at this "suggestion". We're douche bags.

If  you open a bottle of wine - please finish it: This really shouldn't require much explanation. Drinking two-day old wine is the equivalent of sucking on week old doughnuts. Even hobos understand this concept. If you save your wine, you're stealing food out of the mouth of a grape stomping child. Is that what you want? No. Drink your damn wine already.

Please flush the toilet after you poop / wipe the seat off if you urinate on it: No  list of "suggestions" would be complete without a mentioning of bathroom etiquette because so many people are unable to recognize and execute proper manners in this area. I reckon 74% of the population does not want to see your excrements. And the other 26% need to seek out some counseling. Immediately. Leaving your shit in the toilet for others to    view does not make you regal, it makes you a filthy barnyard animal. And it's not funny or clever. Neither is urine on the seat. And this applies to both men and women. Take ten seconds, grab some toilet paper and WIPE THE SEAT OFF. Your pee is not liquid gold. No one wants to bottle it to sell on eBay or Etsy.

Please do not use social media to draw attention to your drama: This     is a tough one, I know. We all suffer from drama and when we feel severely slighted by the Universe, a person or even a business... we just want to share our pain in hopes of others being able to relate to us and provide some words of comfort. And what better way to reach your 472 "friends" than screaming out on Twitter or rapidly posting about your discomfort on Facebook. But the problem is... you're not actually connecting to anyone. Not really. You can't see their expressions. You can't hear the tone in their voice. And you definitely cannot count on their sincerity if they don't contact you privately and not in an open forum for all to witness. And, it's awkward. Once people see your drama, they can't un-see it. Even if you delete it, you don't get to delete it from their minds. And as a sub-section to this "suggestion" - also try to avoid saying stuff on social media that you wouldn't say to a person's face. This is just a fancier version of talking behind someone's back while doing it in front of their face without them actually realizing that it's being done.

Please do not text and drive: If you own a car you probably spend a     decent amount of time in that car, driving. Probably so much time that it     feels automatic, like blinking.  And because it's automatic you will rarely think about what you're actually doing - operating a 4000-pound killing machine. What is more important than taking your eyes off the road to check in on your game of choice? Or answering that text about where     you're going on your vacation? Your life. The lives of others. (please see "suggestion" number two) Chances are you're already deeply distracted by your real life, there is no reason to add to that list fumbling around with a cellphone so you can tell someone what you thought about last night's episode of Spring Baking Championship (is that just me?).

Please leave your ego at the door: People love confidence; they hate     arrogance. Arrogance is phony. Intimidation and strutting around like an erect penis OR vagina won’t hide the truth - that you’re afraid and maybe a little underwhelming in your own mind.  There is nothing wrong with     having flaws... accepting those flaws... flaunting those flaws. It builds     character. But if you must insist on being an arrogant tool, then you must  also accept that you're not only unhealthy to yourself, you're toxic to     others.

Please do not give others false hope: If someone has posted an ad on     Kijiji or Craigslist - don't express interest and give them a date and time of when you're going to show up to purchase the item if you have no intention of making an appearance. Forget about it being rude and full of    atrocious manners; it's downright cruel to let someone believe they've     just sold their dining room table when in fact - they haven't. (Yes, I’ve been scarred).

Someone recently asked me how I come up with things to write about and post. Well, these posts are bona fide dumps of random thoughts that sneak in when I’m not engaging any part of my brain. I love them because they’re unpolished and exactly how my mind endlessly prattles on in conversation with itself. Truth be told, it’s usually in the shower. And the dumping of these words here is comparable to spring cleaning. It helps to declutter the mind too from time to time.

Last week my Mom and I were talking about the recent decision by Dr. Seuss Enterprises to stop publishing six of their books because of racist and insensitive imagery. For all the people screaming out there – THE COMPANY MADE THIS CHOICE. They were not forced by cancel culture, but rather listened and took feedback from audiences including teachers, academics and specialists in the field as part of a review process. This is called being responsible and allowing for growth through intelligent conversations. The company recognizes that certain depictions of Asians and Black people are hurtful and wrong and have taken steps to acknowledge these facts. They are NOT banning these books and have said they’re committed to listening and learning going forward.

Here is the list of the six book titles and the year they were first published:

- And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street (1937)

- McElligot’s Pool (1947)​

- If I Ran the Zoo (1950)

- Scrambled Eggs Super! (1953)

- On Beyond Zebra (1955)

- The Cat’s Quizzer (1976)

Have you ever stumbled upon a journal or something you wrote 10 years ago and it made you cringe? Anyone who says NO to this is probably in possession of some of the worst poetry by their hand, in the world. I know that if I was to release some of the stuff I wrote down from a number of years ago (and in reality, some stuff as recent as 3-4 years ago) I’d be embarrassed by their level of absolute lameness. I write with emotion and unless you’re Tucker Carlson or stunted inside from your head to your toes, you know what it means to evolve. It is what we’re supposed to do, otherwise we are simply stuck in one place forever and I for one can’t think of anything more grotesque than remaining the same.

“You are being presented with a choice: evolve or remain. If you choose to remain unchanged, you will be presented with the same challenges, the same routine, the same storms, the same situations, until you learn from them, until you love yourself enough to say “no more”, until you choose change.

If you choose to evolve, you will connect with the strength within you, you will explore what lies outside the comfort zone, you will awaken to love, you will become, you will be. You have everything you need.

Choose to evolve. Choose love.”

Creig Crippen

It is OK to make mistakes, especially when you don’t know any better. Applying how we have grown as a society to the way we behaved 80 years ago is absurd. We are allowed the opportunity to become better before an angry mob comes along and without discussion wants to rip our character to shreds. There are so many chances for real conversations to promote development that are not happening because people are being so quick to condemn and cancel. Fucking stop it! You’re not a crusader. You’re not the moral authority. You are not the Universe’s gift to man/womankind placed here to draw red circles and X’s on every little thing you deem ‘incorrect’. What you are, I suspect, is empty. And I do not know what it is you’re missing, but you won’t find it in a state of ‘over-wokeness’ and tumbling around looking to smite Cookie Monster for passionately enjoying baked goods.

There have been calls to tear down statues and eradicate movies and people for basically what is THE PAST. If you have an actual working time machine, I suppose you can go back to the set of ‘Dirty Harry’ because apparently:

“The film mocks liberal judges and do-gooders, and the villain claims police brutality, planting the seed that other such charges are fake moves to get sympathy.”

I can’t even with that one.

The removal of statues… ok, I understand this one. But I am not of the mind where these statues should be destroyed and essentially erased from history. I am fully onboard with placing the offending bronzed individuals into a museum with a plaque stating something along the lines of: ‘Once upon a time many of us had some crazy fear-based ideas and poor ethics that marginalized large groups of our fellow human beings and created negative stereotypes resulting in a great deal of hurt. We are trying to be better than those placed before you behind the velvet ropes.’

The past cannot be expunged. But it can be a teaching tool. And in some cases, the past can be used to say – “We still suck, but we’re at least trying to evolve into improved people!”

Sadly, instead, we’re taking down Pepé Le Pew. Let’s not believe women when they come forward with claims of sexual abuse, but let’s ban together and get this cartoon skunk with perceived rapist qualities, cancelled. Bravo. Has Pepé Le Pew been a naughty guy? Well, if you break down his actions through the lens of adults – he is incredibly aggressive and borders on being a pervert. I also suspect he’s a chronic masturbater. I grew up watching Looney Tunes (which should surprise NO ONE) and I never liked that skunk. But not because he was overly persistent in his search for love, rather because he was so obnoxious. Worst character on the show. If anything, the French should be offended because I grew up believing all French people were smelly, forceful jerks.

I am flabbergasted at what we are finding urgent and of significance these days. We allow ourselves to become distracted with the stupidest things; revealing exactly where our priorities are placed. Now do not come at me and accuse me of saying racism is not important. Sit your little crusading ass back down because that is not a thought I’d ever possess. This post is not about racism.

I do not give a flying fuck if you hate Megan Markle, love Megan Markle or think Oprah practices her reactionary facial expressions daily in the mirror, but the fact a pregnant woman went on TV in front of MILLIONS of people and admitted to being suicidal while pregnant with her first child and was met with indifference, ridicule and hate… is fucking disgusting.

The mental health status of a pregnant mother is less important than going after Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street because he is misrepresenting homelessness. Oscar is NOT homeless. He lives in a garbage can and if you knew anything, you’d know that garbage can is spacious and in terms of square footage, it is probably the most expensive home in the neighborhood. See? I can distract with silly things too.

I am going to end all this randomness with a warning…

Victor Frankenstein created his monster from old body parts and strange chemicals and it was brought to life by a mysterious spark. The monster is large and strong but with the intelligence of a newborn. Victor abandons the monster, leaving him confused and when he tries to integrate himself into society, he is shunned. Seeking revenge on his creator, he kills Victor’s younger brother. Then after Victor destroys his work on the female monster meant to ease the monster’s pain and solitude, the monster murders Victor’s best friend and then his new wife.

Ok, I think it is wonderful that our society is taking inventory of certain items and doing our best to right some wrongs… even though I believe many people are being persnickety assholes. But what has been created recently… let’s call it ‘cancel culture’, where “THEY” (please someone tell me who all the THEY people are because I’d like to know who is this organized) seemingly go in search of people, places and things to ostracise… is starting to create a monster of a backlash. (Again, this is not about race/racism so don’t start chirping about white privilege etc.)

To know me is to know my taste in music runs the full spectrum, minus country music and death metal. And anything Mariah Carey sings. Not dissing her talent, just her. Sometimes I will succumb to disposable music. Its music that’s popular for a little while, but then later discarded. Think the opposite of tunes like AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck’. A song that has passed the test of time. Disposable music feels overly processed and is ultimately not good for you, but acceptable in small doses.

For example: Mariah Carey is like microwave popcorn. There’s nothing wrong with popcorn and there’s nothing wrong with microwaving food. The problem is the bag itself. Perfluoroalkyls are just one class of chemical found in microwave popcorn bags. Some studies have linked perfluoroalkyls with health problems as diverse as impaired kidney function and poor semen quality. Mariah Carey is the bag.

Ok, I really just wanted to find a way to compare Mariah Carey to a bag of microwave popcorn.

I will just assume you understand what I mean when I say disposable music.

Britney Spears. Not sure how this is going to sound, but I was never a fan of hers UNTIL she shaved her head and attacked people with an umbrella. I’m also a fan of when mistreated elephants in captivity snap and trample their oppressors. Something about a caged animal finally fighting back… really resonates with me. I’m sure one day my future therapist will have a blast unpacking that last sentence, but until then let’s focus.

I recently watched the documentary “Framing Britney Spears”. Here is a quick synopsis from IMDB:

“Her rise was a global phenomenon. Her downfall was a cruel national sport. People close to Britney Spears and lawyers tied to her conservatorship now reassess her career as she battles her father in court over who should control her life.”

I’m not going to talk about the documentary too much, but it appropriately chronicles her rise to fame and gives you an idea of what happens to these young performers when they become held captive by the very thing and the very people who made them famous in the first place. I found parts of it almost… sad and other parts suffocating. If you’re able to find it, give it a watch. Some of the people who have dedicated a great deal of their time to this ‘Free Britney’ movement are obnoxious, but their intentions don’t feel misplaced. Britney Spears had nothing to do with documentary but has acknowledged it and approved.

Now, I know some people take the stance of – “Oh poor you, you’re famous with lots of money and adoring fans and if you choose that life you deserve no privacy and no sympathy when people pester you for pictures and autographs. That is life in the public eye”. Well, I somewhat disagree. And I disagree because whether it be acting or singing or whatever, it’s only a J-O-B.

Imagine you’re an accountant and suddenly it becomes the least boring profession in the world. Every time you leave your house there are throngs of people scurrying to catch a glimpse of you in all your glory while you’re just going to the pharmacy to get that rash cream prescription refilled. Not only that, they get up in your face… crowding you, snapping 100’s of photos at close range hoping to get a cringe worthy picture to sell to the tabloids, pulling at your sweater vest and screaming “do me and then do my taxes!”. Doesn’t that sound awesome?

I don’t believe anyone is sitting at home at this very moment and wishing they had the life of Britney Spears.

One of the best moments in that documentary (and something I didn’t even know had happened because I don’t pay much attention to her career) is when she was supposed to announce her next residency in Vegas. It was a live streaming event in Vegas with loads of crazed people in attendance where she was to come out, perform a little on stage and then talk.  She came out. Walked down the steps to the stage and kept walking. She walked right past everyone without a word and disappeared. People were pissed. I laughed and cheered.

She then made a post stating that until her Father was removed as her conservator, she would no longer be working in any capacity. Full stop. A total walkout and strike.

If you’re not familiar with the situation with her Dad… the long and the short of it is – when her mental health became compromised due to MANY factors, he took over control of her life. Her career, her money… everything. And at that time, it was seriously the best thing for her. But now at 38 with two teenage sons, she wants her freedom. Her Father is insisting that he continues to manage her life because she is not capable of making healthy decisions for herself and fears the vultures are always waiting to pounce and take advantage of his daughter.

Honestly, I don’t have an opinion regarding her conservatorship. None of us should. We can sympathize / empathize but we don’t have any actual idea of what is really taking place behind closed doors. As a fellow human being just trying to make it to the end of toilet roll with all my marbles intact, I hope she is ok.

Does the world owe Britney an apology?

This question came to me after watching the documentary and hearing about how Justin Timberlake was called out to say sorry to her for weaponizing their break-up to his advantage; as well as Diane Sawyer and a number of others for their various questions, comments and jokes they’ve made at her expense over the years.

Funny thing about apologies… sometimes they don’t mean shit. Sometimes, without appropriate action, they’re just words people say to make themselves feel better about being instinctively terrible. Going on an apology tour for something you did a decade ago just seems inauthentic. Acknowledging your past mistakes and making concentrated efforts not to repeat poor behavior feels more appropriate. It’s called growth. It’s one thing to say your sorry to someone you feel you’ve wronged, it’s another to be pulled out and placed on display by the media and publicly forced to reconcile previous atrocities of character. For one thing, the media is hardly the yard stick for good morals. And the public… well if Twitter has taught us anything, it’s that everyone needs an enema of their soul. And it wouldn’t hurt if some people got their mouths washed out with soap for being callous little trolls looking for attention.

I write this to you as someone who has been both apologized to and done the apologizing. I fancy neither of these options. While it may be nice having someone tell you they’re sorry for something they did that didn’t exactly give you the feels, I struggle with the authenticity. That’s a me problem. I don’t scoff at any delivered apologies, but rather squirm, accept and want to move forward. I’ll tell you what is better than saying sorry to me – scotch. The silent peacemaker.

I don’t feel the world owes Britney Spears an apology in the same way I feel beets do NOT belong on a burger. Some will agree with me and some will argue that I’m wrong. Look, that documentary puts into focus how terribly she was treated by a wide range of people across the globe on multiple platforms. And the bottom line is – she’s not the first and won’t be the last. People love to see others fall and that is just the truth and people love to take cheap shots at them on the way down. Should they say sorry for being shitty humans? Nope. But they should not pretend they’re nothing more than headcheese adjacent. No one will be saying sorry today because WE DON’T LEARN. Maybe next decade?

THE SHAKE DOWN

I am a handshake person.

A handshake can tell you so much about someone. Sometimes it can tell you too much.

There are a number of types of handshakes, but these are the only ones that that stand out to me:

The Sweaty Palm - a sign the person is nervous

The Dead Fish - lifeless, lame… probably a good sign of that person’s personality

The Two Hander - the politician’s special

The Bone Crusher – the attempt to intimidate while constricting blood flow to your fingers, therefore your brain as well

Since COVID, handshakes almost feel – criminal and I find myself having to correct my normal behaviour because my instinct when I first meet someone is to shake their hand. Currently, looking to shake hands is like pointing a gun at someone and expecting them to welcome you. It’s not like I’m desperate to shake hands with anyone, but it’s part of how I construct my first impressions. And because there are no handshakes and everyone is masked, I can’t process smiles because there are none! What am I suppose to do now? Ask people to take off their pants?

I’m an energy person. Meaning: I’m an empath. Empath seems to be the new fancy word that everyone uses, like when the Acai berry became a “superfood” and was suddenly everywhere after having been nowhere even though it’s been around since the 18th century. The term empath is new to me as well, having only learned it’s meaning a couple years back.

Here is a light-weight definition of what an empath is:

“The term empath comes from empathy, which is the ability to understand the experiences and feelings of others outside of your own perspective.” 

I wish it WAS just the ability to understand the experiences and feelings of others because it’s actually so much worse. Saying it’s an ability almost sounds like something you might find yourself wanting… like a superpower. Below is my drawing of me as a superhero with empathy powers. Behold my greatness:

 I hope either the Justice League or The Avengers accept my application. I could really use some of that Superhero money for therapy.

Empaths filter the world through their intuition and have a difficult time intellectualizing their feelings. We are highly sensitive people (not sensitive as in delicate because I will deck you while crying) and when we are overwhelmed with the impact of stressful emotions… empaths can suffer panic attacks, depression, chronic fatigue, food and drug binges, and physical symptoms that defy traditional medical diagnosis.

All true. I’d like to add to that – an overwhelming desire to tell everyone to fuck off.

I can only speak for myself and what my own personal experiences are, but I know many will be able to relate… while others are about to assume some of us empaths are maybe not right in the head. I say this because I’m about to tell you just to what extent I’m able to pick up on energies. And how there are times I can SEE the vibrations of others.  As depicted in this second drawing I did of me running away from those intense vibrations.

 So, I’ve been this way since I was just a wee one. But back then I was just labelled as weak and weird. When you don’t know why your child is terrified to go to a birthday party at McDonald’s or why that child seeks refuge under the dining table rather than sitting at it… as a parent, you’re probably not assuming it’s because the energies surrounding that child make her feel like she’s suffocating.

Upon meeting new people I’m usually put at ease by their vibrations or I become unsettled. This isn’t easy to explain…  but it’s like your gut instinct got into a secret stash of cocaine, only you should trust it and believe it’s not going to sweat all over your couch and poop in your shower.

How it feels when around someone with “harsh” energy: The air and space around you gets heavy and being in close proximity adds resistance to the point where your chest experiences pressure… as if someone is pushing on it. And the thing is, you never expect it… or hope for it… or want it at all… it just grabs you and doesn’t let go.

I remember trying to explain these happenings to my Mom when I was a teenager, but she’d just push it off as me seeking attention or telling a fancy story because I was bored. Not her fault as I didn’t understand it either. I too assumed I must be bored and weaving this tale of being choked out by invisible waves of emotions. This is when you take those thoughts and bury them and wait for them to rise up and crush you when you’re an adult and expected to be able to handle it better.

That does not happen by the way. The adult stuff.

I’m always left wondering if this “ability” is a curse or a blessing. Maybe both?

It’s a curse because I’m never able to successfully explain to anyone why certain people repel me to the point where I refuse to speak to them or want any time in their presence. Even though they’ve never said anything awful to me or mistreated me in any way. I sound insane. I sound like a snooty bitch. I sound mean. I sound dismissive. All things I’ve been called when attempting to state my reasoning.

It’s a blessing because I strongly feel I’ve managed to avoid some bad shit in my life. That is, when I listen to my gut. This doesn’t always happen (because you want to believe first and foremost that people are good and kind) and when I ignore myself – I get burned. I mean, I even know it’s wrong not to listen and yet… sometimes I just don’t want to because it’s easier and more peaceful to just be congenial… until it’s not.

A long time ago I had to do a phone interview (hiring, not applying) and everything was going well with this young man who I then invited down for a face-to-face meeting. As we were engaging in our final pleasantries, he said this: “I can’t wait to come down there and party with you girls”. And that’s all it took for me to turn against him. Not because of WHAT he said (not an unusual thing to say for the job it was) but rather the slight change in the tone of his voice when he said it… it was like a fire started to rage in my chest. Something about how he said that sentence just didn’t sit right with me.

And of course, I couldn’t convince anyone else to believe me.

Long story short – I managed to keep him from getting hired because I WAS able to perfectly demonstrate my lack of comfort with him in a way where it couldn’t be ignored. He went away and was hired at a business just a block from us (small town) and within six months he was picked up and charged with sexual assault on a female co-worker.

Soaking up what other people are putting down is draining. It’s feeling all the good in them, but also all the sadness. For empaths, emotions are transferable. Meaning, we take on whatever that person has rolling around inside of them. Like I said back there in less extravagant terms – it is the worst superpower if you want to be seen as cool. Yes, it makes us more understanding and exceptional listeners and someone you will most definitely underestimate because of how fiercely we protect our serenity… but I swear to you, I wouldn’t want to be any other way.

Just kidding.

This is another one of those ‘if you live under a rock, you might not know what is going on’ pieces. But because this story appears to be unfolding daily, I’d think you’ve heard a murmur here or there even if you haven’t really paid too much attention to it because for many, I think this may fall into the “that guy has been a messed-up weirdo for years so I’m not surprised” category.

Please note that in NO WAY I am making fun of this situation, but I learned a long time ago that I require a certain amount of humor to be able to digest much of what this world presents to me.

As always, let me give you the Coles Notes version with the hopes you will go and do your own reading as well.

On February 1 actress Evan Rachel Wood posted this on her Instagram:

"The name of my abuser is Brian Warner, also known to the world as Marilyn Manson. He started grooming me when I was a teenager and horrifically abused me for years. I was brainwashed and manipulated into submission. I am done living in fear of retaliation, slander or blackmail. I am here to expose this dangerous man and call out the many industries that have enabled him, before he ruins any more lives. I stand with the many victims who will no longer be silent."

Quick history lesson – They started dating in 2007 when she was 18 and he was 34 and were engaged for a brief time in 2010.

This was Manson’s response to what she wrote:

"Obviously, my art and my life have long been magnets for controversy, but these recent claims about me are horrible distortions of reality. My intimate relationships have always been entirely consensual with like-minded partners. Regardless of how - and why - others are now choosing to misrepresent the past, that is the truth."

Since the original statement on February 1 a number of women have come forward with stories of their own ranging from physical and emotional abuse to human trafficking. And everyday something new is revealed. Evan Rachel Woods is feverishly posting on her Insta-Story and is slowly burying Manson in an ocean of consequences. She isn’t “fired up” or “a woman scorned”, she is a victim rising above the shame she has felt and the fear of what others will say about her to tell her story and encourage others to do the same. She is the voice that started the ball rolling. The ball that is about to crush Marilyn Manson.

Whenever I write stuff that is currently being heavily featured in the media, I always dive into articles so I can get as much information as possible. But more importantly, I plunge my sensitive little soul into the murky depths known as “the comments section”. I do this because unlike those polished, finished pieces the comments section will give you a better idea of what your fellow human beings think and feel about the topic at hand. And it is never polished or even polite. And often not for the faint at heart. In case you didn’t already know – people can be quite terrible.

The comments section is the modern-day gladiator pit. Only most (not all) of the participants are not ripped, athletic warriors but rather drooling basement dwellers with one hand down their pants (not gender specific by the way) and the other hand maltreating the letters on their keyboard.

Side note: Look, I am not the grammar police as I often just push past all the warnings from the Gestapo editing program in Microsoft Word. BUT I know the value of proper spelling, well placed punctuation and valid attempts to appear smarter than a domesticated turkey by making sure sentences are well-thought out and complete. Raising your argument doesn’t mean USING ALL CAPS AND ABUSING THESE THINGS -> !!!

I just deleted three paragraphs going over the recent “reckoning” that has taken place in the past few years with regards to sexual and physical abuse accusations against (mostly) men in positions of some kind of power. I eliminated all that writing because I started to tumble off topic. I’m not writing about all the dicks now getting their comeuppance, but rather the reactions to it being Marilyn Manson’s turn in the chamber.

Victim shaming is sadly a real thing.

The easiest way I can explain this to you – if a person gets pickpocketed and then blamed because they should’ve known better than to carry their wallet in their back pocket.

Evan Rachel Woods and others have come out to accuse Manson of some pretty appalling acts of abuse and what I’ve found to be the biggest reaction is, “How did they not know he was a bad guy? His music is so graphic and they thought it was all an act? Why did they stay so long?”. As innocent as those questions might seem, and I say that because our brains don’t always serve us or others well, it is a form of discrediting those women. Let’s be honest here… it’s hard to look at Marilyn Manson and his art form and not say, “What the fuck, this guy has bad idea written all over him!”. I feel that is a perfectly reasonable response, but that is where it should end. I think it is fair to pause and attempt to understand the choices of others, but it’s heartless to minimize their experience by placing blame on them for a situation we couldn’t possibly understand if it has never happened to us.

And like I’ve quoted before: People only understand from their level of perception. But that doesn’t stop them from laying on the judgement and damaging already fragile individuals with their inability to show compassion for a fellow human being. Reading through comment sections isn’t just maddening, it’s disappointing and sad but also a real look into how awful many people feel about themselves… to the point where they seem to derive some pleasure or satisfaction from condemning a rape victim for wearing a short skirt and getting drunk.

So… we have to touch on this to be balanced: innocent until proven guilty. Only these days it’s an automatic trial by media with the public acting as judge, jury and executioner. This is where “cancel culture” steps in and within days can destroy an entire career / life. I am not a fan of cancel culture. It does not give people a chance to learn from their mistakes or make amends as it immediately harms their very existence. Often times even before any proof has surfaced. I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous this is… the fact that just an accusation could ruin your life.

Let me make this clear: if someone comes forward and claims they’ve been sexually assaulted/abused, they need to be taken seriously and not dismissed based upon the circumstances, their gender identity, the color of their skin, their economic position or profession or the person they’re accusing. In turn, the individual being accused should be given time to address the claims before the public begins demolishing their life.

A reoccurring comment in almost all these cases where someone comes forward and alleges abuse YEARS after it happened, is – “Why did they wait so long to come forward?”.

Is this a fair question? Sure. And I feel it is asked because our brain needs to find a way to understand the information we are being given. Because while we’d all like to think that if in the same situation we’d be unfuckable with and anyone who dared to bring damage to our doorstep would immediately suffer the consequences, we actually cannot predict our reaction. There are too many unknown variables to be able to confidently say we’d instantly speak up and seek retribution.

The fear of not being believed. The fear of being blamed. The fear of rejection. The fear of retaliation from the person being accused. The fear of being forever defined by your experience. The fear.

It does not matter the why, what matters is the chance they’ve taken by speaking up at all. Those who come forward should be embraced, not ridiculed. Not abandoned. Not criticized.

“Don’t ask why victims wait so long to speak up. Ask what systems were in place to keep them quiet”. Anonymous

I own a few Marilyn Manson CD’s. And I’ve even attended one of his concerts. Would I say I am a fan? Probably a number of years ago I was but truthfully, I’ve not paid attention to any of his music in recent years because I feel it devolved while my taste evolved. That’s not a slam against him or anyone who fancies his work, it’s more a statement on how I’ve matured and now seek out music that feels authentic to me.

The one concert I attended was opened by Courtney Love. I know, what a duo to pay money to see. Near the end of Manson’s set he made a disparaging remark about Love and trashed her music. At the time he was wearing some pretty hefty platform shoes so it made it all the more hilarious when from out of nowhere she charged like a rhino and tackled him to the stage; throwing punches at his head all the way down. When he finally was able to get up, he announced the show was over. There would be no encore and then him and his bandmates trashed the stage in a temper tantrum worthy of a toddler Napoleon. Still makes me laugh to this day.

Shoutout to Evan Rachel Wood and her most recent movie ‘Kajillionaire’. Watched it on demand about a month ago and it’s a brilliant comedy that will also pull at your heart. I highly recommend you give it a chance.

Check out the trailer:

The building I currently live in has been having an increase in break-ins to our underground parking. Storage cages are being forced open to gain access to bikes (easy to pawn for quick cash) and car windows are being smashed when valuables can be seen from just looking inside. There is now noise within the complex, with people screaming that they want cameras installed and a security guard to patrol the parkade during the early morning hours.

While this MIGHT help the situation there is no guarantee that it will stop these wanton crooks from their dastardly deeds. One, because they can simply cover their faces from the cameras and avoid the security guard. And two, because the real issue of security isn’t being addressed – people are not taking any responsibility for the safekeeping of their own building. Not waiting for the large parkade doors to close before leaving the property. Buzzing up SkipTheDishes drivers instead of going down and meeting them at the front doors, therefore allowing anyone to follow them into the building and gain access to the parkade. Leaving their key fobs in their cars where they get stolen. And caring only about themselves to the point where they fail to report any strange activity around the property.

The lack of personal accountability is a real problem. And not just in my building.

The definition of Freedom of Speech as given by Dictionary.com is as follows:

“the right of people to express their opinions publicly without governmental interference, subject to the laws against libel, incitement to violence or rebellion, etc.”

Let me Coles Notes a few things here:

-    Wednesday January 6, 2021 Trump gives a “spirited” speech at a rally in Washington that manages to provoke his feistier followers into marching down to the Capitol Building and storming inside using force. Five people died and dozens were injured.

-    Within a week Trump is banned from Twitter, Facebook, suspended by Instagram for two weeks and Parler (social media app used by many vocal extremists, Trump supporters and conspiracy theorists) was booted by hosting services such as Amazon, Apple and Google.

-    Trump is reduced to only being able to use the Amazon product reviews section to intimately reach his supporters

-    Uproar over censorship/freedom of speech begins.

Below is a link to the transcript (and video) of Trump’s “Save America” speech he gave just before the attack on the Capital Building. It’s long of course, but I encourage you to skim through it, or put the video on and listen while you’re doing other things. You may think it’s not significant and you don’t want to hear the ramblings of #45, but it IS important if you care about freedom of speech and the obligation we have to not be total raging assholes with no regard for morality or law and order.

https://www.rev.com/blog/transcripts/donald-trump-speech-save-america-rally-transcript-january-6?cjevent=47b9f152576311eb8162015f0a1c0e10&cjdata=MXxOfDB8WXww

Since the election Trump has been peddling his theory that the election was stolen from him by way of shifty voting and ballot counting procedures and a conspiracy to turn Trump votes into Biden votes. He’s been pushing this idea hard and without reprieve despite no creditable evidence and despite his hand-picked Supreme Court ruling against his claims. I don’t feel anyone with a brain thought he was ever going to go quietly if he lost. You don’t spend your first term in office talking about how they should allow for three or more terms if your plan is to exit with grace.

I never had a problem with Trump wanting to challenge the election results. Whatever floats your boat Cheeto. I didn’t like that he asked for donations from supporters during all this and managed to gather over 200 million dollars. Something I feel he did just to fill up his own coffers with zero respect for those putting their money behind him. But I digress…

Without tangible proof, Trump is now hawking these inaccuracies to his supporters, of which there are MANY. And breeding within those MANY are the extremists. And within those extremists are those who just love the chaos.

“Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.” Alfred Pennyworth, The Dark Knight

Yes, I just quoted a Batman movie.

You can say that Trump has been telling lies for over four years and you’d be right, but the difference now is this latest set of fabrications has inspired some of his supporters to engage in acts of violence (it’s being called domestic terrorism) against their own democracy. These individuals are currently being hunted down and arrested and WILL be charged with a number of offences while Trump throws them under the bus and takes no responsibility for anything. Oh, and he blamed the Democrats for causing all this anger.

Side note: One day people will listen to me about this… one day.

Below is a link to the trailer for a Netflix documentary titled ‘GET ME ROGER STONE’. Roger Stone is a political strategist with over 40 years on the Washington scene. He is credited with inventing negative campaign attack ads among other diabolical maneuvers. He is also partially responsible for Donald Trump’s effectiveness in winning over voters and his ability to seemingly get away with everything. I’ve been yelling about this guy for four years, but he is so slick. He was recently indicted in connection with the Russia investigation. Trump issued him a full pardon. He has this thing called Stone’s Rules (with regards to operating within politics) and one of those rules is:

-          Never admit to any wrongdoing

-          Deny. Deny. Deny.

-          Go on the attack.

Does that sound like anyone you know? Maybe someone who was just impeached for the second time for something he won’t admit to doing, has adamantly denied and blamed on others?

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IPyv4KgTAA

I am 100% for freedom of speech. I believe you should be allowed to say whatever you want to say, whenever you want to say it.  If you wish to chant at the top of your lungs, “Fight for Trump! Fight for Trump!” you have every right to engage in comedy. If you wish to strip down to your soft cotton bush pants and yell, “the President personally invited me here!”:

 Then you’re probably this guy who is quickly learning that actions often have consequences, as does freedom of speech.

While you’re allowed to use your voice to express your opinion, there is this little pesky caveat that comes along with speaking freely and that is – you will be held accountable. And rightly so.

Do you remember the old school yard mantra – sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me? Am I the only one who never bought that baloney? Words can hurt. The power of words is far greater than that of sticks and stones. Words spoken, no matter how hard your try, cannot be taken back. You can’t put them back in your mouth. Or back in your head. Once they’re out, they’re either doing some good or they’re doing some damage. Speak freely and speak often, but know your audience and take some fucking responsibility for the ripple effect your words might create.

Was banning Trump from pretty much all social platforms the right thing to do? Or is it a scary precedent that threatens freedom of speech?

For starters, Trump was banned by COMPANIES, not the government. These companies therefore reserve the right to ban anyone from using their platform who they consider to be in violation of their terms and conditions (user agreement). Within that wordy legal document that we all barely skim over is usually a part about not using the application to abuse and harass others and not posting anything that incites violence or brings harm on groups or individuals. In other words, don’t use a service like Twitter to spread bullshit amongst your unhinged supporters who then get filmed at the Capital Riots chanting “the President sent us!!” as they throw fire extinguishers at the police.

Over the course of four years Trump sent out an estimated 56,000 tweets. I have a Twitter account. I tweeted once then gave up, so I have to give it to the old guy, those early morning toilet tantrums on Twitter really added up. During that time, he was fact checked A LOT and to the surprise of NONE he lied MANY times. My one and only tweet was also a lie. I believe I said something along the lines of “Happy to be here!”.

During the 2020 election year many of his tweets were flagged and labelled as misinformation. He wasn’t banned until after the Capital Riots out of fear he would continue to ramp up his extremist supporters and provoke them into further acts of violence. Without Twitter and Facebook etc. Trump has been deprived of his oxygen – his ability to intimately interact with his followers. Because when you strip back all the yelling and flag waving and crying about the right to say whatever the fuck you want… you are left with a simple lesson we all (should have) learned when we were children. If you choose to behave badly, then the consequences you shall suffer.

Here is a link to a list of all the platforms that have banned Trump. Whether it be hashtags or online shopping stores, companies are taking a serious stand NOW on the spreading of anything Trump: (you should read this as it goes into context as well)

https://www.axios.com/platforms-social-media-ban-restrict-trump-d9e44f3c-8366-4ba9-a8a1-7f3114f920f1.html

It’s funny how some people believe they deserve to be able to use and abuse a free service like Twitter for their personal needs such as attacking others, but don’t believe in things like universal health care, equal pay, unicorns, Covid-19, love, climate change and the possibility that Walter White is still alive.

I personally have never broken any online platform user agreements with regards to abusive speech. In person, most definitely. I’m rarely inspired to battle online people who are looking for a fight because by not engaging with these keyboard warriors I am performing acts of charity for the cerebrally challenged. In the real world, well, you know what they say – it’s hard out here for a pimp.

Trump has behaved poorly for years now. His Republican party members (looking at you Mitch ‘melty face’ McConnell) hid behind him like the bottom feeders they are and got fat with power in his wake. The GOP will never be the same again. Trump’s grip on this party is akin to that of an uncatchable boa constrictor lost in high rise building’s plumbing. Slithering around deep in the bowels of the structure threatening to re-emerge as something far worse. If you lived in that building, you’d never be comfortable again. Your whole existence would be based on fear. Fear, which just so happens to be an effective weapon when trying to control others.

There is another concern floating around right now and that is the power of the big tech companies to control what we can see and what we can’t see. I’ve not given this enough thought yet to be able to provide any coherent ramblings. BUT it is definitely something we all need to be aware of and watching in our very near future.

I’m left with one question – was Trump responsible for the Capital Riots?

It would be so easy to blame him, as many have. And now that he is literally on his way out, getting those final kicks in is giving many people a stock pile of delight. So, the most satisfying answer is – fuck yes. But let’s not forget all the Republicans that have remained silent for the past four years as Trump went on TV’s around the globe and called Africa and Haiti “shitholes”. Mocked a disabled reporter. Stated that Americans who died in wars were “losers and suckers”.

And all of this:

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2016/01/28/upshot/donald-trump-twitter-insults.html?_r=0

If you are a parent or a care taker of children are you prone to sitting silently and allowing those children to run amuck in a restaurant yelling at people and causing havoc in hopes the manager will give you free ice cream to shut that child down? Is it that child’s fault you refuse to discipline them out of fear they’ll replace you with a more agreeable parent? Are you getting my point?

“Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope.” — Robert F Kennedy

One final thing…

Well, we reached the end of that toilet roll only to start another one, because that is what we do for as long as we are allowed to continue revolutions around the sun – we keep going.

2020 was a terrible year for so many. My brain is incapable of processing the number of losses suffered on a global scale. Be it jobs, security, rights, sanity, relationships or life. My brain is not just incapable of these calculations, it has plain refused to entertain those thoughts on behalf of my heart. My heart, that sensitive little blood pumping work horse who not once allows itself to stop. Thank goodness.

I don’t believe the majority of people are willing and able to bring themselves to fully comprehend what was lost in 2020.

Here is a list of a few more losses suffered last year:

- People lost their shit. And over the most ridiculous things like toilet paper, having to wear a mask to secure toilet paper and being held to the consequences resulting from not wearing a mask when asked to while attempting to purchase toilet paper. Pause for a moment and let that last sentence hang around in your mind. 2020 made that happen. I didn’t make it up! Recently I saw a news piece showing a man (40’s) lying down on the floor in a Costco to protest being asked to wear a mask. He spoke loudly, he beat his hands at his sides and wildly kicked his legs when an employee asked him to get up. Now, I am not judging for I too have participated in such behaviour MANY times. Granted I was three, but hey… some of us mature faster than others.

 - People lost their damn minds. 2020 should be dubbed “The Year of The Karen”. For those of you not in the know about the Karen phenomenon, here is a description courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

 “Karen is a pejorative term used in the United States and other English-speaking countries for a woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is appropriate or necessary. A common stereotype is that of a white woman who uses her privilege to demand her own way at the expense of others.’

 Basically, a Karen is a I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER type person (There is a male equivalent, but it seems no one can agree on the name… Chad, Terry, Kyle, Kevin, Steve). You can often find a Karen on her cellphone calling the police to report a black man who lives in her neighborhood, simply living his life in her neighbourhood. I didn’t make that up either.

 More recently a Karen was videoed in a UPS store claiming that she didn’t have to wear a mask because that space was government property and not a private business. Would it be safe to say that most Karen types suffer from a lack of oxygen to their brain? Possibly. But that would involve science and Karen types DO NOT enjoy hard facts.

 As always when I download my thoughts into reality, I must go within and search myself. Am I a Karen? My immediate answer is: no fucking way. I can honestly say I’ve never once asked to see a manager or called the police to report someone eating their lunch on a park bench. I do not enjoy confrontation. Unless there is a bully involved. Then I will drag that person to hell with me. I much prefer discussion over going straight to the ‘I triple dog dare you!’ approach to the world. (If you got that reference, you are my new favourite) Because that is who a Karen really is… someone who jumps right to the most extreme action in order to satisfy their need to be superior. Truly, we should feel sorry for these people because instead of engaging they’re raging. And how awful must their insides feel… always full of anger, fear and self doubt. I say instead of judging these Karen types or putting them on blast on social media, we should hug the shit out of them. Just grab them and squeeze as hard as you fucking can until they stop talking. Peaceful solutions my friends, peaceful solutions.

 - Pets lost their faith in us. Children a close second. If you are a proud owner of a pet or a child, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ve always operated under the notion that my cat loves it when I’m home and hates it when I leave. 2020 has taught me it might be the other way around. Because our animals are, well, animals we just believe our presence is the greatest gift in their lives. Remember when you were old enough to be left alone by your parents and once you had the taste of that kind of freedom, you just wanted more of it and couldn’t wait for them to go out? I feel it’s like that with our pets now. We might not think animals have a routine or preferences or enjoy some alone time, but we’d be wrong.

I think at first our pets were thrilled. If we are home more it means more time for prolonged petting, walks and the opportunity to ritualistically train us to respond to their caterwauls for more food and treats than normal. But then as the weeks of lockdown and working from home increased, so did our pets desire to kill us in our sleep.

 I’m pretty sure my cat has asked me several times using her feline glare: “why the fuck won’t you just leave?”. It would be naïve of us to assume we don’t disrupt their day with our constant noise making and snacking and scotch drinking that leads to a good buzz that leads to showing too much affection to our pets. To the point where they run and hide when they see us coming. Please tell me I didn’t describe just my own experience.

 There is such a thing as everything in moderation, we know this, so I think it can be applied here. People, get away from your pets. Give them the space you often desire from human beings. Because if you don’t, that random turd in your shoe could be pointing to a much larger, more alarming problem you’re about to encounter.

 I had the absolute blessing of being able to assist in caring for and raising of my three nephews (12,9,6) for the last 11 years. So, when I say: ‘children are always watching us’, I feel I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been mimicked so often by these young boys that I’ve had to pause due to mortification. Children will hold you accountable without even knowing it. I’ve had some behaviours of mine corrected by a 5-year-old and let me tell you, it stings like hell.

 As adults, when our world was thrown into turmoil because of Covid-19, we looked to our medical health professionals and our politicians for guidance. Basically, we searched for those who would lead us. The children – looked to us. And while many adults handled this responsibility the best they possibly could, many more failed miserably and displayed attitudes I can only describe as juvenile, damaging and pathetic. I suppose it doesn’t help if the people the adults are looking to for help are themselves - juvenile, damaging and pathetic.

 When I say we still have not grasped just how much has been lost over the past year, I’m hinting at integrity, compassion and creditability. Three vital qualities you’d hope people want to instill into their children. But if they themselves are unable to display such valuable traits, what does this say for the children who are looking up to them as an example on how to act when life gets challenging?

 For myself in 2020, I gained by losing.

When they locked our gyms down for four months last spring, I came close to being one of those people who lost their shit. While people were moaning about wearing a mask for 20 minutes in the grocery store, I was contemplating if murdering those people could be considered a cardio exercise and would that hold up in a court of law.

To reflect on that time period now (especially since our gyms are closed AGAIN at the moment) the loss of the gyms brought me the knowledge of how important the routine of going to and being in the gym is to my mental health. I won’t launch into how I feel about shopping malls being open and gyms being closed despite their proven benefit to one’s overall health because then I really will lose my shit.

People always say getting to the gym is the hardest part and once they’re there it’s easy to workout. And for many that is the truth, but for me it’s all a part of the workout. Getting to the gym is the psychological effort. Putting in the work at the gym is the physical. You can’t have one without the other. I became so pathetic that I’d often walk to the closed gym from my house, stare at the closed doors and then walk home. 1.5 hour round trip. True story.

Remember a few years back everyone became obsessed with that Netflix show ‘Tidying Up with Marie Kondo’? It is the show where that lovely woman from Japan showed us all how to declutter our homes by getting rid of anything that didn’t bring us joy. Those acid wash jeans from 1989… sit with them… hold them close to your chest… if they don’t make you happy, remove them from your space. Well, the same idea can be applied to people and ideas and even feelings. And 2020 was a great year for simplifying our lives. I’ve heard so many people talk about how they can’t wait to get back to ‘normal’… not me. I’ve already started my ‘new normal’.

The loss of drama has gained me peace and a better understanding of the importance of remaining true to who I am instead of trying to please others in hopes it wins me points. Because it doesn’t. Because its inauthentic and only brings you more loss and more drama. And anxiety. And sleepless nights. And an overall sense of hatred for everyone. 2020 gave me the option to no longer care about the things that don’t make me happy and to embrace the process of letting all that stupid bullshit fade away.

It was a year of gained focus.

It was a year of gained appreciation.

It was a year of gained gratitude.

It was a year of gained love for myself.

 I’m going to leave you now, but not before I share one of my favorite songs by the Tragically Hip:

In A World Possessed by The Human Mind

Just give me the news

It can all be lies

Exciting over fair or the right thing at the right time

Everything is clear

Just how you described

The way it appears, "A world possessed by the human mind"

 Then I think I smiled

Then I think you said, "it's fine"

And quietly I dressed, in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 We're in awe of no one

We've none of their fear

Fighting's goin' nowhere and we stay right here

Where everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

"In the shadow of the law and with colours of justice"

 Then I hope I smiled

Then I'm sure you said, "It's fine"

They got no interest in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

Quiet enough to hear God rustlin' around in the bushes

Oh, but it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

 Then I hope I laughed

Then I hope I said, "it's fine"

And quietly undressed in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Oh it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

In case you didn’t hear NXIVM founder and Ryan Gosling look-a-like, Keith Raniere, 

was sentenced to 120 years in prison after being convicted of sex trafficking, racketeering and conspiracy after testimony that he had created a harem of sexual “slaves,” branded with his initials and kept in line with blackmail. There are currently two docu-series running right now (SEDUCED: INSIDE THE NXIVM CULT and THE VOW) that give you a chilling look into this cult. Both series are palatable and will have you saying – “How the hell did these people get pulled into a cult? Because from my couch I can tell you that would never happen to me!”

There is so much information out there about the NXIVM cult that I don’t feel the need to educate you on all their dastardly deeds. Instead, I want to ramble on about how the majority of us probably feel we could never be drawn in and held captive by a cult. Plus, after that election in the United States we could all use a wee laugh.

First…

The TOP FIVE Reasons WHY I’d Make A Terrible Cult Member

5. Terrible with Crowds

Does anyone really like crowds? Hoards of people gathering is a whole lot of stupid I just don’t want anywhere near me. Cults can’t survive without people. I suppose you could be a cult of one. If that is allowed, I want that. I brain-wash myself on a daily basis as is (‘Today is going to be awesome!’ ‘You absolutely do deserve a donut!’ ‘Drinking wine from a mug is considered sophisticated!’) so I feel I could make this work. Gym clothes are required clothing but will make an exception for all-day PJ’s on the rare Friday when I ‘just can’t even’.

4. Blindly Following Directions is Not My Strongest Quality

I am not a wanton rebel but I do fail (succeed) at being a part of a collective consciousness, especially where one person places themselves in charge of everyone else. While I don’t require for you to have degrees or letters of recommendations from heads of state, I must insist that you’re not a fascistic idiot. Also, you need to be a good person. Not just on the outside where you’re putting on a show for others, but on the inside where it really counts and shines through without you having to promote your intentions. There is just no way I am able to blindly follow directions from a person who I do not respect. And typically, I don’t respect anyone who craves and NEEDS control over a group of people, no matter the size, to make themselves whole. The bottom line here is: if you are this type of person and you attempt to snare me into your cult, I promise you I will be your problem child.

3. Isolation? Yes Please!

Cults wish to isolate you from your family and friends because then it becomes easier to indoctrinate you without any outside voices cluttering up your mind. Instead of isolating me from family and friends (who, I assure you would appreciate the break) it would be much more effective to separate me from my inside voices, of which there are many. Obviously, I am more attached to those voices than my family and friends and I bet my inside voices would eat your inside voices for breakfast, so if your intention is to try and control me you better be prepared for a fight similar to that of the Game of Thrones Battle of the Bastards. But seriously, I’m begging you… please isolate me from my inside voices. I could use some peace and quiet. This is a cry for help people!

2. Refusal to Have My Food Intake Monitored

The NXIVM cult preyed on women by forcing them to go to extreme measures in order to lose weight. They often had to take pictures of their food (counted and weighed on a scale) and ask permission to eat. Right away I’d have a serious problem with this bullshit. If I want a donut. I am going to eat a fucking donut. You want a picture of it? Ok, knock yourself out:

I’m eating this no matter your opinion.

I understand that withholding / limiting food (valuable protein, nutrients etc.) makes it easier to break someone down but just how far gone do you have to be to allow someone else to monitor and approve BY TEXT MESSAGE what you eat? I guess if we want to pull at this thread we can say organizations like WW, Jenny Craig and Nutrisystem “approve of” and even provide you with what they want you to eat in order to be successful if using their programs… and if I wanted to rip into them some more I could claim they are somewhat “cult-like”, but at least they don’t require naked, compromising photos of yourself just in case you fail to lose weight and they want to keep you accountable.

Confession time: when I go to a restaurant with friends and they want to “share” plates, I am not amused. Who the hell came up with this concept of “sharable plates”? If I want to order some crab cakes (usually two to a order) what makes you think I want to give you one in exchange for some of your fries? If I want fries, I will fucking order my own fries. Now that this secret is out… sorry to my friends who have politely forced me to share my food with them.

1. I Can’t Be Any More Brain-Washed Than I Already Am

BRAINWASHING: any method of controlled systematic indoctrination, especially one based on repetition or confusion.

Here’s a thought – we brainwash ourselves.

Well, first it’s our parents. And we don’t have much control over that for a long time. In that mix of original brainwashers is television with it’s cleverly made and repetitive commercials. We are being advertised AT from an early age and it’s a process that continues for our entire life. You don’t watch TV? Doesn’t matter if you own a cell phone or surf the web or have a pair of working eyes. It’s everywhere. You’re being convinced you need stuff. Or persuaded to believe in the magical powers that alcohol will give you (which through experience is NOT charm, grace or coordination). Just last week I realized I’ve been programmed to not give a flying fuck whenever I see a Kardashian. Or Mariah Carey. Or emails from Christian Mingle (please stop contacting me, you really don’t want this).

We brainwash ourselves into believing certain untruths in exchange for temporary happiness. I believe we all fall into this trap. Let’s be real and admit that life is fucking hard. Our collective goal is to be happy and to survive. If you need to convince yourself of some untruths for a short while in order to get through, you go right ahead. Just don’t let the lie take over your reality. It’s destructive. And you’ll miss out on how beautiful life can be if you don’t pull your head out of your own shit.

These two NXIVM documentaries really had me shaking my head in disbelief over just how these seemingly intelligent men and women fell for such a gigantic load of crap. To listen to this Keith Raniere speak and think to yourself “yes, here is a stable human being I want to follow who just happens to talk about how it would feel to rape a baby (it feels like nothing apparently) and requires us to kiss him on the lips when we say hello and goodbye” seriously puts your mental health into question. Am I right? Because I don’t actually know. Am I sitting in judgement of these cult members? Maybe just a little and that is simply because I believe myself to be… not smart, but not a total moron. Now having said that, I know that everyone is searching for spaces where they can belong. Where they feel comfortable enough to be themselves. Spaces that speak to them and people who mirror their desire to be better, do better. Their tribe, if you will.

If you were brand new to this planet and I told you about this activity that millions of people took part in, in some capacity, where they used a curved stick to chase around a hard rubber object on frozen water while wearing steel blades, you might give me a curious, tilted head look. You know, the one you give someone when you’re trying to determine whether or not they’re insane. Sports teams and especially their fans could be considered cult-like. Some people will shell out big $$$$ to attend the Super Bowl dressed head to toe in their team’s colors. Soccer fans in Europe have killed referees over what they felt was a bad call.  

Look at this line-up:

This was for the release of the latest iPhone (12). All these people brought together by an inanimate object with the technology to make/receive phone calls, take photos, listen to your conversations and advertise to you across all your social media platforms. Oh, and it can tell you the time.

If you dig far enough into the NXIVM cult (beyond the “ring leaders” who profited financially and at the same time fed their perverted yearning for supremacy over others) you will inevitability come across people who were at their very core – lost. Lost and looking for purpose. Lost and looking for a place where they could belong. Lost and looking for something special. I don’t know about you, but when I am feeling lost and low on hope, I don’t always make the best decisions.

Time to go eat all the donuts.