Where You Been, Girl?!

Uh . . . I'm a grown woman. Respect.

What's it been folks? A week? I've just been doing me. I needed sometime to get back to what I do.

I don't do politics.

You're Still Here!

Oh, that's great!

A lot of things have been happening in my personal life. All good . . . and perfect, thankya Jesus! Hallelujah! For real.

I've finally been given a firm diagnosis - a mild narcolepsy - which explains my fatigue, but not the pain. Which, is okay since both are being treated. The new medication for fatigue hasn't yet made me feel "normal"; just not so week-old road-kill sick. And that's absolutely fabulous! Yeah, I still spend much of my day on the couch or online; but, like I said, I feel better. And that feels great.

Now, as for my continued inconsistency. First off, like I said, I still don't feel normal. And secondly, my brain has been some vacation of sorts for at least a couple of weeks now. I don't know why. It's not that I feel dumb; and trust, I do know that feeling. No, I'm just mentally tired. I mean, when I say a lot has been going on in my personal life, I do mean a lot. It's taking quite a bit of mental energy to keep things straight. So I don't have the usual zest for thinking out examples or implications or anything of the such of racism or sexism or anything in our current events.

In fact, I have a post on draft right now that I started last week, and just couldn't get my head to finish. Something about how the little racist "Obama chia pets" and "nappy-headed hos" comments are all part of a society that enables what amounts to essentially robbing the black community: Well's Fargo targeting the black community for sub-prime loans. I was gonna explain how all the seemingly harmless statements mount up to damage the black community. The whole circle made sense in my head, I just couldn't quite find the words. But since I'm on a bit of a roll, let me just say this - people who see nothing racist about the recent "tea parties" nurture an environment where people see nothing wrong with gouging the black community of very hard earned moneys. And to make a point that hard-working white Americans need to hear: the people who saw nothing wrong with loan officers lying both to the client and to the underwriter so the cost of the loan will be higher leading to higher profits for the company and higher bonuses for the loan officer also see nothing wrong with the exorbitant bonuses received by the executives who brought down the global economy. Mark my words chumpy, which shit gets to flying, everybody gets hit. Instead of listening to the idiots who propagate the lie the affirmative action is "reverse" racism, you should be listening to those of us tell you that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

Well. Guess the good ole noggin' is doing better than I thought!

Also, I've just touched base with my cousin Lauren. If you don't remember, I have a cousin and cousin-in-law who're both based in Afghanistan right now. They're army medics, kinda like on MASH I would imagine. Lauren describes what she does as kinda working in an emergency room with injured people coming in all day. Her working hours were increased, so she works 12-hours shifts now. She has a furlough next month. I can't wait! It's not even about seeing her. It's just about knowing she's home safe and sound.

Oh! What brought about this sudden post anyway? This op-ed piece in the New York Times by Frank Rich. Pretty cogent stuff. Gets straight to the point. Gotta read. Here's a quote:

Then he brought up another recent gunman: "If you're one who believes that abortion is murder, at what point do you go out and kill someone who's performing abortions?" An answer, he said, was provided by Dr. George Tiller's killer. He went on: "If you are one who believes these sorts of things about the president of the United States ..." He left the rest of that chilling sentence unsaid.

Rich also mentioned something I hadn't really thought about, but which is true:

We don't know whether the tiny subset of domestic terrorists in this crowd is egged on by political or media demagogues - though we do tend to assume that foreign jihadists respond like Pavlov's dogs to the words of their most fanatical leaders and polemicists.

I'm not quite sure why it never crossed my mind, but at any rate. If you're interested in a discussion on whether or not hate speech should be regulated, here's a good start. I already have comments there, but I'm about to add Rich's thought to the convo.

Anyway, I hope you're still here when I get back. Don't know when I'll be posting again. Just can't shake the dead-brain feeling.

Momma, You Know I Love You

That's the lyrics to that "Soul Food" song. Not sure I'm going to play it, though. I just refer to it because "Happy Mother's Day" is done.

Now, about mothers, let me offer a word of advice to those of you with the more strong-headed children.

My mother is an amazing woman. She's managed to take care of me, my father to some extent, and the family business all the while still being involved in church, civic and political activities. Just recently, she's decided to cut back and focus her attention on family and the business. Something I've been suggesting for years.

My mother is the one who introduced me to public life, right? She's instilled in me a sense of civic duty. A responsibility to my community and to others to help in any way I can. And for my family, due to my great-grand and grandfather, and our baby-faces, public life and political office is one of the ways in which we can help.

She's also instilled in me a sense of business acumen. Buy low, sell high. Invest and save. Manage and budget your money. Save for retirement which will need to be about 70% of your current income.

She's instilled in me a sense of excellence, or to be more honest, perfection(ism). You know, try my best at every turn. Nothing less than a best effort is acceptable. That whole thing. Because of her, I'm terribly, terribly self-motivated.

And to her great agony, she's also managed to instill in me a strong-will. She's actually okay with it when I use it against other people or situations. I managed to finish college even though the onset of CFS came my last year due to God's grace and a strong-will. She's proud of that. I'm single, but should I marry, there's no worry that I may marry someone who's abusive. She's proud of that. I speak out against sexism, even if it's to my uncle. She's proud of that. I've managed to be my own person despite all the teasing and peer-pressure I endured growing up. She's proud of that.

I'll even stand up for myself when I feel like she's disrespecting my boundaries and independence. She not proud of that.

So here's my advice to mothers of strong-will children. Mothers whose children don't always take their word as gospel. Children who will let you know they think they're right and you're wrong.

You are the mother. This title and position can only change if you allow it. If you apologize when they fuss because you didn't cut the crust, the position has changed. If you let them put you in time-out, the position has changed. But, if when they fuss about the crusted pb&j sandwich, you calmly say to them, "You don't talk to momma like that," while you cut the crust, you've done two things:

1. You've diffused the situation. Oh trust and believe, if you throw your shoulders back and straighten your back preparing for battle, your child will do the same. Oh I know you don't allow that and this poor child will have to suffer your wrath. No pb&j for little Toot-toot. Here's my question for mothers who take the battle-route: what do you think you've accomplished? Do you really think you've taught your child how to respect other people, including you? No, no, no. Listen. As iron sharpens iron, so a strong-will sharpens a strong-will. What you're doing is teaching your child how to battle.
2. You've taught them how to respect you, themselves, and others. I know you may well think that not putting up a resistance is not the way to teach your child to respect you. But understand this. Your child can't respect you if s/he doesn't know how. How we treat others is by responding to evil words with kindness. This kindness doesn't put the other person in a better battle position than yourself. This isn't about taking licks by refusing to fight. This is about ending the other person's need to fight. This kindness, in fact, disarms, the other person. How can the other person fight when they have no weapon? Turning the other cheek isn't letting the other person know they can hit you again. It's letting the other person know you will not fight, they're making themselves look bad, and, by the way, "That first punch didn't knock me out." By killing your child with kindness, as it were, you're made them embarrassed about having had such an attitude. Your child will probably put on a sheepish face and apologize. "Sorry, Mommy. I love you."

We've gone from the child trying to boss you around to the child now seeking your approval, right? And how do you respond? You then respond by approving of their humble behavior. No, no, no. This isn't teaching your child false humility, that they're worth less than other people. This is teaching your child true humility, that everyone is worth as much as them. And this isn't approving of their bad attitude. It's approving their response to you. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You gave them what they wanted. But you've taught them that they can get that by being nice. You know, "you get more with sugar than with vinegar." Or, some such saying. Whatever.

Now, it may not go as scripted in every case and lets deal with two probable situations. Let's say your child responds with, "You better cut my crust off." Here, you take away the sandwich, which now has no crust, until they behave. Again, you're not engaging them in battle, not sharpening their strong will. In this case, you're just demanding respect. That's fair. They don't get what they want until they do what you want by respecting you. That's fair. Then, situation #2, let's say your child doesn't respond to your kindness with kindness or such. Let's say kindness has no effect on them whatsoever. No emotional response at all. They never put on a sheepish face and seek your approval. Then instead smile snarkly and just say "ok." Darling, I hate to have to be the one to tell you, you might be dealing with a psychopath.

Don't get me wrong. It's not standing up for my independence that my mother has a problem with. Here's the problem: by defending my independence, I have to challenge the idea that she's right. Her problem is with me challenging her. And she has this old-school, discredited, idea that a child should never, ever go about as though the parent is wrong. Well, on second thought, when it comes to other people and their children, it's okay. When it comes to me and her, it's not. All my life, I've felt like she's disrespected my agency of choice. Trust and believe, even children have the ability to choose and they like to exercise their ability to choose. Yes, set boundaries. Don't let your child choose what's for dinner, choose what you cook. But whether or not your child eats dinner is up to them. Let them sit there hungry. They'll eat eventually. And most important, you've let them exercise their right to choose on matters dealing with them. But you've set the boundary that they don't choose on matters under your control.

But really. If your child has realized their independence from you as a separate individual, be glad about that. That's something that has to happen for healthy human growth and to become a healthy adult. And in fact, if your child never asserts this independence as a separate adult, they will either grow up to be everybody's doormat, or they're a psychopath who can adjust as needed before they strike to kill.

When they assert their independence from you as a separate individual, assess the situation. Is this decision ultimately about you or them. If it effects you as in the previous pb&j example, diffuse the situation with kindness. If it effects your child, like what shoes they wear on any random day just to go out, again, diffuse the situation with kindness. And this kindness says, "Okay, you can wear those shoes."

Or, if they're trying to wear sandals during winter, this is what you do. You acknowledge that they want to pick out their shoes themselves be inform them, teach them, that sandals will make their feet cold. You done two things here: one is letting your child know s/he's been heard. That's very important. Everyone wants to be heard and one of the things that exacerbates an argument between my mother and me is that she never lets me know I've been heard. This also helps them understand for themselves as a separate individual that you don't wear sandals during winter cause your feet will get cold. Next winter, you have to tell them they can't wear sandals. Then, after acknowledgement and teaching, let them choose among the pairs of acceptable shoes. If you have a stubborn child you refuses you, still don't fight back. Don't sharpen their stubbornness. Just continue acknowledging, teaching, and offering alternative choices. Children's attention span isn't long enough to be stubborn for very long. And if you're pressed for time, just put a pair of shoes on their feet and toss them in the car screaming and crying. Again, a child's attention span isn't long enough to scream and cry about shoes. Just as sure as you're born, they'll notice something else and move on.

Now that I've gotten all that off my chest, let me go practice what I preach and try kindness on my mother. I ask that those of you who know the words of prayer, pray for me.

Obama's First 100 Days

Update: Great minds think alike! I wasn't the only one who thought it ironic that Gov. Perry (R-Texas) was turning to the federal government, that oppressive regime, for help. Check out this article from Mother Jones.

Sorry I haven't post in about 100 days. Let me just say chronic fatigue is no joy and leave it at that. Until I feel up to posting on a regular basis again, you can find me commenting at The Field Negro and Racism Review.

But I have been watching the news. I'm up-to-date with the craze around the first 100 days of Pres. Obama's administration, tea parties, and pig flu. Which leads me to ask . . . what would Texas do now if they had seceded? "Encroaching on states' rights." Please.

I Forgot to Mention . . .

The House version of the stimulus bill wasn't going to help states balance their budgets. It would help cover just 45% of the budget shortfull between what states need and what states have. The Senate version, where Republicans managed to get 48% of the package turned into tax cuts, would not even help that much.

Hat tip to Slate.com.

Make no mistake about it, the longer this goes on, the more convinced I become that congressional Republicans are either heartless or sheer idiots or both - sheer heartless idiots. Even Republican governors support Pres. Obama's stimulus plans. The good news is that it seems like Americans are starting to wake up a little. The Republican base is shrinking. Maybe, hopefully, come 2010, the Republicans will lose even more seats. I'll be ecstatic to vote for the Democratic challenger, whomever he or she may be, for the Senate seat currently held by a Republican.

Now, to my new readers - welcome to my blog! I should warn you though, this current pace of postings is unusual. I have chronic fatigue syndrome, which sometimes causes me to miss up to a month of blogging. But, you have my word that as much as I can, I'm going to give you the best I got.

Febuary: Black History Month

Here's what I have to say about Black History Month: Carter G Woodson had a great idea several decades ago. And in the absence of a more inclusive national history, Black History Month remains pivotal. We celebrate "white" history all 12 months, so anyone complaining that there's no White History Month needs to catch a clue. Now, I believe it is important to note that much of black history involves white people, just as much of "white" history involves black people. So, there is some inherent danger in the separate notion of "black" history to the extent that it can engender the idea that black people suffered at the hands of some mysterious force and not the white people with whom they share citizenship and/or this country. But, again, in the absence of a more comprehensive history, I think it necessary to take the risk. Also, I would like to be part of a movement that has the teaching of a more comprehensive history in our schools as its goal. In fact, let me look into that and get back to you. Since I celebrate and discuss black history all year no matter the month, that's about all I'll be saying in regards to Black History Month. Anything else will be along these same lines.

Now. In other news, I just saw Lauren's kids yesterday. They're doing okay. They are scary smart. And I mean that seriously. I saw some of the work they produced in daycare and was frightened. I'm waiting for one of them to explain e=mc2 to me. The youngest, who I'll call Babygirl, sneezed in my face. Luckily, I'm pretty sure that was a regular, "clearing the system" sneeze and not a flu sneeze. The middle child, who I'll call Sasha cause I think both she and the youngest Obama daughter are clowns, did a lot of laughing and giggling. The oldest, who I'll call Smart Pants, insisted on answering "Lauren" when I asked her what my name was. Her older cousins kept telling her "No1KState," so I'm pretty sure Smart Pants kept saying "Lauren" just to be funny. I asked her, "Why are you messing with me?" She just smiled.

And me? I'm good. One of my great-aunts is making me some yum-yums! It's a baked desert with pecans. I'm not a cook, so that's all I can tell you about it. The interesting thing, though, is that she's my maternal grandmother's sister. (Well, this particular great aunt. I have several.) And it occurred to me that while my grandmother had four daughters (Living at least. We know she and Grandpa had a child before they got married who died as a baby or was stillborn. We thought it was a boy, but I saw some other info that it may have been a girl.), only one of them had a daughter by birth - and that daughter of a daughter is me. If we were Amerindians, it would be my son who would become chief. Plus, I don't know, every time I think about that, I feel some added pressure to make good on my grandmother's genes. You know? There is another daughter of a daughter, but she was adopted. And I'm the older of the two of us, anyway. But don't get it twisted, I love her like a sister. Hurt her and I'll cut you.

Lastly, let me thank my new readers. I'll do my best to give you accurate info with some great thinking behind it.

War, Hoo!

Lauren and Jamie left earlier today before the youngest one's next dose of cold/flu medicine. The middle child turns 3 Monday. The oldest one looked at me like I was stupid when I offered to throw, as if it were a ball, some kind of Army rag doll with Lauren's picture as the face. Lauren asked the oldest, "Who's that?" "Mommy! You!"

But in other news, toddlers shouldn't be able to "talk with their eyes" the way this kid can.

Let's not kid around here. The only people this war in Afghanistan has helped are the terrorists and poppy growers and whatever private companies are in charge of "reconstruction."

Can you even think of a war that wasn't waged because one side wanted something the other side had? Or, in our case, wanted to try some ill-conceived experiment of democracy by force. I mean, really. Democracy by force? Was there no English major to tell the neo-conservatives in BushCo that "democracy by force" is a contradiction in terms?

And what about all the chicken-hawks? Those "patriots" who completely support the military but can't join themselves because they have "other things to do." Yeah. I understand now. Nobody wants to miss the birth of their children or a child's birthday. No mother wants to leave while a child is still sick. (Even though, when I was visiting, the medicine was working, and this little person was dancing like someone auditioning for Soul Train! Well, when it comes to energy and effort if not quite yet craft.) No father wants to miss the milestones in his children's lives like the first time they use the potty. (Only the oldest of Lauren and Jamie's children is potty-trained, which means I'll only offer to baby-sit that one.) Though, you do have the ever so brazen who are perfectly happy sending others to fight the battles they want to win - the chickenhawks.

It's no secret. I have no intentions of ever joining the military. And depending on the circumstances, I'm not willing to marry anyone who did; even if he's been discharged.

But I do have a suggestion or two before our next military adventure. I propose that a change be made to the Constitution that all family members of Congresspeople who vote for pre-emptive war who are fit for battle must join the military. The same goes for the family members of the President who carries out the wishes of the Congress.

Unless we are actually hit by a country, we should never enter war. Yeah, I'm willing to risk those initial American lives. Often, we have enough intelligence to be prepared for such strikes and prevent any acts of terror. We had the intelligence before Pearl Harbor and 9/11. We should start using it and hold in distrust those politicians who don't.

See, violence begets violence. War begets war. I don't know what reasonable excuse we have for not invading Saudi Arabia when 17 of the 19 attackers on 9/11 were Saudis; the royal family doesn't practice religious much less political freedom; the version of Islam that tolerates such violence is taught in schools that receive financial support from individual Saudis, members of the royal family, and even sometimes Saudi Arabia as a nation. But I do know that my cousin and her husband are gone; Americans, Afghans, and Iraqis are dying; and, bin Laden has gotten exactly what he wanted.

"They say we're fighting to keep our freedom, but Lord knows there's got to be a better way" (Whitfield and Strong, 1969). - No1KState, 2008

UPDATE: Car bombs in Iraq kill at least 25, wound 64
As Taliban nears Kabul, shadow gov't takes hold

Merry Christmas? Um . . . Yeah! Merry Christmas, Indeed!

Today is Christmas. No, not the day Christ was born. It's the day we celebrate his birth because once upon a time, the Catholic Church had to do something to compete with the pagan winter solstice celebrations, and thus Christ-Mass.

Not that I'm hating. Not at all. I love the Lord. I celebrate his birth everytime I consider my life with him. Whew! Thank ya, Jesus!

But, this Christmas is a little odd. My cousin Lauren leaves two days afterwards to join her squadron or whatever before heading to Afghanistan. Meanwhile, the man that got us in this mess is living it up at Camp David with his family, including a son-in-law and definitely some nephews who are militarily fit. Uhg! The thought sickens me.

And, I have to add that one of my mom's cousins made me promise to call her today. Not to say, "Merry Christmas," but because her daughter, a chiropractor, adjusted my back yesterday and I couldn't give a glowing, "Oh, my! I feel soooo much better!" Not that I didn't feel the difference. More spacing in my spine. Nice. But I already had a couple of tender spots and she pulled my neck further than what I was ready for, so my back hurts a little and my neck is sore. Don't get me wrong. My back was hurting when I left. And pain in my neck comes and goes. What's more is I think everyone should dump their doctor and get their back adjusted. Seriously. Why take pills for the rest of your life when you could get your back adjusted with all the benefits of having your nervous system in order and none of the side effects of recent treatments that include, but are not limited to, death. My mom's cousin, who shall remain nameless, has even stopped taking her blood pressure medicine. Her doctor doesn't know it, though, and I don't feel like coming up with another fake name.

On the one hand, this Christmas should be a nice relaxing day. Movies. NBA basketball. Mozerella cheese sticks. But it's also a day closer to Lauren leaving and me having to face the fact that I will have a close blood relative in a war zone. Before, Afghanistan was something I could shake my head at and wish the troops could hurry home for their families. There've been at least Christmas I wished Jamie could hurry home for Lauren and the kids. But now . . . :sigh:

It's hard to get thrilled about Christmas when it draws me closer to having to say good-bye to my cousin. And maybe for good. I mean. Like I said, we aren't that close. But we did grow up singing in the church choir together. Me, Lauren, and her sister whom I'll call Willona, ran the church choir. For a while, we even formed our own little singing group. We came in second singing acuppella in a talent contest that we heard of last minute and had only a day to prepare for. Not too bad. Come to think of it, Lauren will probably want to sing at her going-away party. For once, I'll sing without too much prodding. Before, I'd practically make her beg. (Sorry. But singing aggravates my chostochondritis.) If she asks, and there's not guarantee she will, but if she does, I'll sing. I mean, be honest. Obama is planning on escalating the war in Afghanistan. My cousin could die.

She better not. If Bush, who started this mess without finishing it, thought Cindy Sheehan was a walking scandal, he has not met my aunts. I've considered doing a documentary of my mother and her sisters (though, it's her brother's daughter who's leaving) on a road trip. But I always decide against it. Even Lauren agrees I don't wanna besmirch the family name.

But, Christmas. I hate Lauren and Jamie have to leave. I hate even more my brother, who already made plans with his in-laws before my uncle decided to throw the post-Christmas get-together, may not be here to say his good-byes. -And I should add hellos. My cousin's leaving her kids here with her parents. I love seeing Lauren's kids. Of all my cousin's children on this side of the family, hers are the best behaved . . . until they've been here long enough for their other cousins to show them how to act a fool and the adults in the family to spoil them. Too bad for them, one of their biggest fools has a new grandbaby to act a fool over. I always told Lauren to have her children down here to take advantage of the idiocy before it ran out.-

But, I'm not without hope. After all, today is the day we celebrate God's coming down to reclaim humanity for himself. He'll get Lauren and Jamie to Afghanistan and back without a scratch to show for it! They're safe in his hands.

And so am I.

And if you've accepted Christ, so are you. If you haven't, look. Make this Christmas real. Accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior. That's the real reason to get excited about today. That's the only reason to be excited about any day! It's why I'm excited. Sometime more likely in the spring about 2000 some odd years ago, God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believed wouldn't die, but have life forever.

And I'm so glad I get to be with Jesus, now too! not just when I die; I'm so glad God was willing to become a little baby, I hardly know what to do with myself! If you want to accept Christ, but don't quite know how, just get at me. I can explain it to you just like that! Or check out the link under "Serious Answers to Serious Questions about Religion."

So celebrate today by placing your hope and faith in Christ.

Merry Christmas!

This Christmas - The Temptations

Okay, maybe not what you were expecting. Here's something more traditional.

My Two Soldiers

Blagojevich smalojevich. Barack Obama has had nothing to do with this pay-for-play scandal. Whatever Blago had in mind, it's clear he knew that bleeping Obama was only interested in giving him bleeping appreciation.

And to the US Senate Republicans: come of it! Stop hating on the UAW. The labor union isn't the problem. US auto companies haven't been making cars people want to buy. When I buy a car, I don't even have intentions of buying from the US auto industry. So, if you wanna clear out the ranks of upper-level, executive management, please do. But leave the union alone. Cause the way I see it, you're coming up against to philosophical contradictions. One is that the cost of workers in the North is too high, especially do to healthcare cost. One way to get rid of the healthcare cost burden on employers would be some sort-of "socialized medicine" via national medicaid/medicare for all, some sort-of single payer system. At the very least, we got to get rid of the system we have know: healthcare for profit. Sorry. People's lives shouldn't depend on insurance companies' bottom lines. And some form of "socialized medicine" will help cut costs for American business - and that's important to you, right?

The other contradiction you're up against is this notion of the free-market. The way I've understood it, in a free market, labor is a form of capital. Why are you so willing to help one side of the free market, business, but not the other, labor? In a truly free market, labor is allowed to make the same self-interested decisions that business is allowed to make. So, in the end, quit hating on a system you purport to support.

Now that I've expressed my feelings about that, I'm moving on. The Republicans are idiots. They're being obnoxious to block the American auto bail-out, or rather, bridge loan. And they're being especially obnoxious to demand Obama come clean about any contact and talk he or his staff or any emissary may have had with Blagojevish. I repeat: if we know nothing else, we do know that Blagojevich was angry that Obama wouldn't play game with him. Doesn't that clear Obama? Quit trying to paint him with Illinois corruption and call me when the Cubs win the Series, or the Bulls win the Finals. I have bigger fish to fry.

My cousin and her husband are due to be ship out to Afghanistan in early January. Hence, my title. And, quite frankly, I'm conflicted about the situation. I understand we need to finish the job in Afghanistan's, and I'm pissed that lame-a, er, -duck Bush didn't do so in the beginning. And the latest reports are that Afghans aren't do any better than they were before. For some, especially women, the situation has become worse. Just a few months ago, I watched part of a special about Afghan women setting themselves on fire as acts of rebellion against someone, be it an abusive husband or an abusive mother-in-law. (I don't know whether or not they had access to guns. But I do know that women aren't likely to use guns to commit suicide. And, I suppose, watching "your" woman burn to death at her decision can stick in the craw of the men who claim control of them.) I only watched part of the special because my stomach couldn't take it. Many of these women were unsuccessful at the quick suicide they intended and eventually died slow, painful deaths. They lived long enough to tell their story, so I guess that's something to support. But watching these talking faces with charred skin and lips noses burned off was more than I can take. Don't get me wrong. When it comes to the crime dramas I love so much, I can stomach stuff like that. I know it's fake. But when it's real, it causes not just my stomach to ache, but my heart as well.

So, part of me understands we may need the military to stabilize the situation enough so that, I would hope, we could send in more nonmilitary aid. But I hate that my cousin and her husband's lives are at risk. Now, I must confess, my cousin, who I'll call Lauren, and I aren't that close. I haven't really spoken to her in almost a year. But she's my cousin, and I love her. And I think she was dumb to have joined the army in the first place. I mean. First of all, I don't believe the myth that for this country is all that honorable. I mean, for me, it kinda depends on the war. I don't know. I just don't think America is worth my life. It's kind of hard to explain, so I'll leave it for a later post. Suffice it to say I think dying for America means you've died to maintain a system that cause more harm than good. And, I just can't accept the notion of dying for America in the face of having committed my life to Christ. I and anyone else who professes to be a Christian is supposed to be seeking God's kingdom and righteousness, and I just don't think America represents either one.

Plus, all the military deaths I can think of post-WWII haven't been for "freedom." They've been for oil or just maintaining control of the world. All this hype about winning the Cold War without bloodshed is just that - hype. Hundreds of thousands have died in the "Cold" War between Russia and America. Don't get me wrong, it's a good thing the situation never came to a war of nuclear weapons, but really. Do you really think someone would've turned America into a communist nation against our will? If you do, it's no wonder you think Al Qeada or any other terrorist organization could turn us into a Muslim country against our will. Or that the immigrants from south of the border will suddenly turn us into a Spanish-speaking 3rd world country. You're delusional.

Did I mention I'm actually angry at Lauren for having joined the Army in the first place? That's why I'm a bit conflicted about her and her husband, who I'll call Jamie, being called to Afghanistan. That's a choice they made as much as a mess BushCo. created. Now, from what I understand, the army was a way out for him. But her? She just initially joined the National Guard for the grad school money. It's not like she couldn't have earned scholarships or my aunt and uncle couldn't have chipped in. In fact, another aunt of ours said they would've gone door to door raising money for my cousin to go to school. For generations, our family has supported education, starting with my great-grandfather who opened a school.

And here's what really bothers me. Lauren and Jamie have three children. Three. One child should be two-years-old by now. Another turns three after Christmas. The oldest turns four in February. So, with 12-16 month tours, my cousin and her husband are going to miss the birthdays of their children, and the missing starts right away.

And what happens if Lauren and Jamie die? I know all of my family will do whatever we can to take care of the children. In fact, that's not even anything I personally have to worry about. But it's something the children will have to deal with. One memory I have of the oldest when she wasn't quite one is of her picking up telephones and remote controls and saying into them, "Elno. Doing!" as though she were expecting Lauren on the other end. And I can hear my cousin always answering the phone, "Hello? How you doing?" I'm not sure the children are old enough to understand death. In my mind, I can only imagine how long they'll expect their parents to be on the other side of a ringing phone or opening door.

Then again, what happens if Lauren and Jamie both survive? We know that post-traumatic stress disorder is under-reported and undertreated. Are they going to be the same parents the children remember?

I'm just conflicted about this whole thing.

And to top it off, cause I feel it needs to be, bin Laden has lived to see his nefarious plan come to fruition. At this point, over 4200 American soldiers have died in Iraq alone. That's more than the number of people who died in the 9/11/01 attacks. 540 Americans have died in Afghanistan. I haven't even started on the number of dead, injured, or displaced Iraqi and Afghan civilians. The total is well over 2 million. Closer to 3 million I would venture to guess. And for what? Are we really any safer? Isn't Obama still sending out messages? And last I heard, this whole Gitmo/torture/rendition method has been working against us; and, according to someone who's talked to foreign insurgents in Iraq, there's an untold number of American deaths due to US torture of so-called enemy combatants.

And now, the Mumbai attacks.

What of my cousin? What of her husband? What of their children? What of them and other families like them. Has this venture really been worth it? If you think it has, you're either delusional or evil. Maybe both.

My Evolution II

Well . . . since I spent yesterday describing my evolution, I suppose I need to explain how I got through the really tough times. I mean, the nights when I couldn't sleep but knew I need to avoid the kitchen because there were knives there, I had to really call on Jesus.

That's the truth. That's why I just can't for the life of me imagine renouncing or converting from my Christian faith.

Now, let me say I did avail myself of counseling/therapy. If you feel you need to talk, but don't have think you can afford it, you probably can. Do some calling around and there is probably a mental health facility in your county that provides services that, depending on your situation, can range from free to your insurance co-pay with no upfront cost.

Then there're a few scriptures that helped me out, too.

When graduation came and I had no plans, hadn't applied to grad school or for any job, hadn't even taken the GRE, Jeremiah 29: 11 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future (NIV)." Now, I place emphasis on what really spoke to me at the time I needed it. The fact that God knew the plans he had for me meant that . . . I didn't have to know. What's said in the Black Church is usually, "I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I know who holds tomorrow." Eh . . . that didn't quite do it for me at the time. I was freaking No1KState and I was supposed to have plans. I was supposed to be on my way to a PhD. Not knowing what "tomorrow held" just "won't getting it."

But one day, I was reading that verse expecting "plans to prosper" to soothe my anxiety. It didn't. But every time I read through, "I know the plans I have for you," my spirit calmed. And that finally did it for me. I knew I had to quit fighting God on the issue and just let him have his way (By the by, Hezekiah Walker has a song that says exactly that. I listened to it endlessly. Can't find it online, but I'll keep looking.). I had to, as David says in Psalms 131, stop worrying about things I had no control over, and just trust God like a child trusts her mother (I paraphrased.) And honestly, that kept me from . . . Let's just say it kept me. (There's a song with those lyrics, too, by the way.)

Then, as far as finally receiving God's love for me, well, the involves all of the book of Ephesians as well as some other New Testament passages, and most especially a book by Robert McGee titled, The Search for Significance. I strongly suggest you read the book yourself and get the workbook, too. I most confess, the college staff member of The Impact Movement who was assigned to UNC gave a group of us all the book with workbook for free my second year. I was so full of myself then, I really didn't pay it much attention. I "graciously" went through it with the rest of the group because really . . . I'm No1KState. I felt I was the very definition of "being significant."

Er . . . uh . . . yeah. That kind of pride will lead to a bit of a battle with God. Hence, perhaps, the whole episode prior to graduation of not having any plans.

It was till just a few years ago that I read the book seriously. To say it changed my life would not be an overstatement. It helped me open myself and my heart to love. It helped me reject the lies I had believed about myself. Oh, I'm still working on trusting God with my heart. But, I used to respond to the staff member, who is now I dear, dear friend, saying "I love you," with a disbelieving shake of my head. She would tell me how I was such a sweetheart, and I would respond that she really didn't know me. She would argue that she thought she did, and I'd just let her win. I didn't see the point in a needless argument with someone who didn't know me.

Now, I can say, "I love you," first. This morning even, I told my parents I loved them. That's a big deal for me! I mean, it's not that I didn't love people the way Christians are supposed to love everyone, I just didn't hold anyone in any special affection.

Except my little cousin who's my "little sister."

That's part of what I love so much about my church family Palmer Grove. You know what, this is my blog, I'll tell you exactly what happened. I heard a woman call out my name, I just smiled and waved in the direction of the voice. Then Minister Thurman grabbed my shoulder and asked if I knew who she was. I didn't. She explained who she was and how she knew me, and that's when I realized that there were people who held me in special affection . . . just for me! Granted, folks were always impressed and sometimes proud of my accomplishments. But, it wasn't till that moment that I realized she was showing affection to me, not because of my family connections or accomplishments, but because of me. I mean, lots of people were greeting me because I had just joined the church. But the look on her face when I confessed I didn't know who she was (because I previously didn't care - she doesn't know that), let me know she was interested in me. Me. Not No1KState. Not the lead soprano or trumpet player or the basketball player or the genius. Me.

And guess what? Me, myself and I am sweet. I am a sweetheart. A number of people, strangers, have told me I have a beautiful spirit. At a group of young adults meeting together to minister to each other, a woman just all of a sudden hugged me tight and kissed my head. Once, a visitor at church pulled me aside and said he just wanted to speak because I had such a beautiful spirit. Apparently, that means just in my presence, people feel loved. That's what the strange hugging lady explained to me.

That's the truth. That's my truth. If I've accepted you as a part of my "circle," I do love you; and, I love you strongly and unconditionally. That has always been the case. I have always been willing to fight on behalf of my family, even if that meant I'd get beat up. And excepting God's love for me has made loving others all the more easier.

I'll end with this verse: Zechariah 11: 4 "This is what the LORD my God says: "Pasture the flock marked for slaughter. 5 Their buyers slaughter them and go unpunished. Those who sell them say, 'Praise the LORD, I am rich!' Their own shepherds do not spare them. 6 For I will no longer have pity on the people of the land," declares the LORD. "I will hand everyone over to his neighbor and his king. They will oppress the land, and I will not rescue them from their hands." 7 So I pastured the flock marked for slaughter, particularly the oppressed of the flock."

Yeah, few people actually get to the part of the Bible. (I'll save my thoughts about Evangelicals and Fundamentalists for another post.) But, that's what inspires and prompts my quest to change the world, to fight racism, sexism, capitalism, and other oppressions. And now that I'm broadening my horizons to international issues, nationalism. At first, it was just American nationalism that bothered me, but now that I've learned about Turkey - I'm taking that on, too.

So, basically, I'm still celebrating turning 27. It's my own tradition to celebrate my birthday for at least a couple of weeks. Especially since my brother thought I was his early birthday present, I take the liberty of extending my own celebration past his. I'm not sure I'll be blogging about my personal growth again for a day or so, but. :sigh: My next posts will probably be about some political or international issue. It's just that, I'm so proud of myself for how far I've come. I'm thrilled that I'm finally receiving sufficient treatment for my CFIDS. I can hardly contain myself. I mean, of course, I have to. My health can't take a lot of hoopla, no matter the cause. But, I'm just excited about another day and another year.

Listen. Life is an adventure. I'm on this adventure with Elohim, another name for God, which, by the way, is Hebrew feminine plural, and a couple of other friends. I'm finally living life to the full and I love it! I wish you the same peace, contentment, and anticipation I have!

My Evolution

Today's my birthday. I'm 27 today.

Yeah. I know 27 isn't a special birthday. It's not like I'm getting my driver license or anything. And, I'm not going crazy like my closest friend did last year when she cried, "Now, I'm just 3 years from 30!"

Actually, I'm looking forward to my 30s.

But for now, I'm 27. Not that 26 wasn't good. It was. But, this birthday is special to me. Even now, I can feel eyes watering. It's because of how far I've come since . . . ever.

You know. Usually, when I give my personal testimony, I recall how I couldn't believe Jesus loved me so much that he became a baby just for me. And the fact that he came back to life with Papa Smurf's help did it for me. I was sold! It was gonna be me and Jesus for life.

I was 4 when I accepted Christ. And don't worry. If I didn't know what I was doing then, and I did, I certainly do now. Nothing's changed about that testimony. That God would put on flesh and limitations of humanity just to pay for my sins still sends shivers down my spine, and that he was cruxicified and arose without a defibilator still blows me mind. I'm still sold. It's still me and Jesus for life.

But, I've never told anyone the entire truth of why accepted Christ. It wasn't that I didn't know anyone who loved me more. I didn't think I knew anyone who loved me. Yeah. Odd for a four year-old, and my mother would hate to hear that, but that's how I felt.

I used to have a hard time accepting or believing anyone loved me. Unconditionally, I mean. Even through my teens. You don't know my family, and this would make more sense. My mom is a local politician and has a lot of influence in the black community. My grandparents' and uncle owned their own business. I was a star student and basketball player. So, when people smiled and hugged me or shook my hand, I always thought it had more to do with mom than me. Or because my grades or basketball play impressed them. Even when older women would comment to my mom how pretty I was, I didn't pay that much attention. I thought that was more a compliment for my mom than for me; everyone swore how much I looked like her. And boys, well . . . let's say I was aiming for an academic scholarship and I wasn't interested in high school sex. I mean really. Having sex with someone who walked around with his pants hanging off his hips and couldn't remember to bring paper and pencil to school? Yeah, um, no.

College wasn't much different. Of hundreds of classmates, I only managed to remember close to 60 or 70 or their names, and most of that was due to some nudging. So, I really didn't care much for other people. Only a few people really stuck.

Oh. And that was just school. I was star in religious circles, too. Not a bad singer. Pretty good speaker (when I wasn't full of myself at the time).

But now, and granted it's took sometime, I actually believe people love me for me. And I can actually love them back. Nothing's changed in the way my family demonstrates affections, but I even believe my mom loves me. That wasn't always the case.

So, now that melodrama's been explained, there's actually more.

I know who I am now. Growing up, there were some lies I believed about myself. One was that I had a mean streak. That was punctuated by the fact that I could successfully discipline a youth choir of 15 kids without much hometraining. But now, I know who I am. I like sports, but I'm not gay. I can be quite prissy actually. But, going through life believing the worst about yourself just isn't a way to live. . . . Unless it's true, then, it's time for some self-examination I'd say.

And I know what I want from life. I know who I want in life. I don't wake up every morning hoping to die because the pain and exhaustion of chronic fatigue and immune dysfunction is so disorienting.

The best part is that I'm not afraid of the future any more. I'm not absolutely sure what the future holds for me, but I'm not afraid to meet it.

And here is where I digress a bit for the purpose of making a point. Contrary to what evangelicals and fundamentalists believe, not all lives are worth living. Terry Shiavo's husband was doing the right thing. Her parents didn't care about her. They just wanted to have their need for her presense met. Waking up hurting places you didn't realize you had isn't a way to live. So, let your loved ones go. Don't make them suffer for your own selfish reasons.

Back to me. I have been suicidal. It started during adolesenses. Part of the reason I spent over half my life thinking my mother didn't love me isn't just that she didn't say it; it's because she was always fussing at me about something. And there seemed to be nothing I could do that she wouldn't critique. And parents, that's not a way for your kids to live, either. What I didn't know was how she bragged about me to other people, including my brother. He and I both thought the other was the favorite child - parents, don't do that to your kids. Everything doesn't have to be perfect. Don't get me wrong. My mom didn't miss a basketball game. Even if all she talked about on the way home was how I didn't hold my follow through long enough.

But I've put all that behind me. I'm responsible for what I feel and think about myself. And, I'm taking God's word for it that I'm the apple of God's eye.

So, basically. Since life has no more meaning that what you're able to put into it, and I know that, I'm not afraid of the future. I know I have plenty to put into life. And know I have definite plans. In college, it killed me that I didn't have a clue as to what I'd be doing after graduation. Plus, I was sick and didn't know. Think it's bad having a doctor tell you there's nothing left for them to do and you only have a few months to live. Try just turning 22 and have a doctor look you in the eyes and say, "I know something's wrong. I just don't know what." My world crashed. I could hear and see my life shattering like broken glass. Like I had been in a head on without a seat belt, but not dead. I wish I could say no pain . . . but well, unbeknownst to me and the doctor, I had CFIDS.

Now, treatments are getting better. I finally have enough pain medicine, none of which is narcotic - but if you got an extra vicodine or something from oral surgery . . . Ha ha ha! I'm just kidding.

Not really. So, I was afraid of a future that virtually had little to nothing to offer. But now, I'm 27. I'm not as afraid to share my heart as I was just a few months ago. I don't know exactly what I'll be doing the next few years, but you can believe the world will change as far I can reach it.

I've come a long way in what's really a short time. I'm 27. And I'm making my life happen.

This One's Painful: Guess Someone Couldn't Share the Spotlight

My heart goes out to Jennifer Hudson and her family. I hope the nephew will be found safe and alive. Cause this is just ridiculous! On a number of levels.

First of all, black community, we can't on one had complain that not enough of the ones who make it come back and then also terrorize them and murder them when they do. Now, I know the same thing probably goes on in the white community, except, they're celebrated for moving to Hollywood and staying. But, come on people. Please.

Second of all, black folks who make it out . . . stay out! This is what happens when you come back home. Those negros who were already jealous to begin with are really gonna let you have it. Luckily, I can come back home. I didn't grow up in a "rough area," and I have to hand it to my local black community - we handle our business (That's a shout out to Ms. Bradshaw and all the black bus drivers who were illegally fired while a white . . . I just blog about that later. Oh, and Mrs. Degree and Mrs. Accor and Mr. Hooker. Pastors Smith, Thompson, Littlejohn. And, of course, my big brother and little sister-in-law. And, and I better mention my momma cause I there's this car I want. And even the people who used to tease me in school now recognize the importance of spiritual and political engagement.).

But, I guess Hudson's tragedy is especially saddening because, I don't know, I identified with Effie White. I identify with a down home black sister who's just trying to make good. And I can't imagine a world without my momma and my brother. And just recently, some good friends have had their grandmother and greataunt pass. My little cousin's mother's funeral was just this past week. And, I guess, I'm still in a mournful mood.

I told one friend of mine that it was okay that even maybe two weeks after her grandmother's passing, that she still missed her and her heart still ached. It's part of the human experience. It took a while for me to adjust to my grandmother's passing. Now, I see her in my dreams . . . and she usually has a date. I don't get that. But, anyway.

I wouldn't know what to tell Jennifer. This is one of those times when, "Hold on to God's unchanging hand," won't do. My grandmother and my friend's grandmother died because they were sick. They didn't die because someone murdered them. Now, I do know that God's grace is sufficient - sufficient enough for her to be really pissed off at him if that helps her grieve. I also know that God can piece back together a broken heart. And if you need to be angry with God or scream or cry or yell, it's okay.

I'm not going to say, "It's going to be all right." The first person really close to me who died was my grandfather. I was thirteen. And I distinctly remember fighting the urge to punch someone in the face for telling me, "It's going to be all right." Excuse my language, but who the hell cares about what's going to be. If you wanna make it all right right now, how about you bring my grandpa back? How about that? If you can't do that, then you need to shut your dang pie-hole. "It's going to be all right." All right, hell. Oh yeah, the next person who told me that was gonna catch an unholy "rhetorical flourish."

But I will say, the sun will rise and it will set, and another day will pass, and another, and another, and in one of those days, somebody better get that nephew back to the family. Don't play no "ransom" shit. You've done enough. We get your point. You can't come from "da hood," do well, and expect to stay like nothing ever changed. No matter how homeopathic it is for you or how much you wanna help your people. Yeah. You're the ones who make the rest of us look bad because ignorant crackas judge all of us by your nigger-acting black ass. So, yeah, thanks.

Oh, wipe the drool of your face. I said I'm a Christian. I never claimed to be a saint.

But back to my condolenses to the Hudson family, you'll always miss your mom and brother. You'll always love them. Right now you still can't believe it, and that's okay. The pain is overwhelming and that's okay, too. Whatever you feel, it's okay. God's grace is sufficient, and it's okay.

You're listening to some songs I chose to go out to the family. Now, at black funerals in my area, we have a good time, so I added some hallelujah gospel songs as well Hudson's songs.

Oh, and by the way, Palin's lied about some dirt she's done about the whole Alaskan pipeline.

And UNC beat Boston College. The Hudsons aside, that does make me feel better.

These Are My Confessions

Updated - I changed "white atheist" to "Republican Christian" and "black Muslim" to "Democrat Muslim."
. . . with apologies, of course, to Usher Raymond.

There are a few. Like, I should actually be in bed now if not asleep. I have a head cold on top of the usual CFIDS, and I have to get up in the morning to be sure to make it to Wednesday morning Bible study, in part because I love Bible study at my church, but mostly because I gave my word to my pastor. And I want him to know my word is bond.

Here's another one. There's a guy a like who I might run off because I'm afraid I'll run him off because I haven't been in an adult relationship ever. If you actually saw me, you'd think that were impossible. But if you actually knew me, you'd see how that could happen. And my mom and brother think it's funny that he wants to own a . . . spa. That doesn't sound as bad as the word originally used that my family thinks is funny. And I'm not even sure how he feels about me yet, or for that matter, how I really feel about him. (Though, I do want to change my relationship status on my networking sites.)

But here's my real confession. I'm a Christian. Yes, yes. With my support for contraception and even "abortion on demand" (I'm not telling anyone to have a kid I have no intentions of helping her raise.); and my support of gay rights and even same-sex marriage - or something legally equal to it; and my belief in evolution, or at least some form, I. am. a. Christian.

Born and raised in a Baptist church. My grandfather baptized me. Oh, don't worry God-haters, I've gone to college. I've had my doubts. I have none presently, but on occasion I do, and something unexplainable just won't let me go.

I've heard all my life how important it is to vote for someone who's Christian who shares my Christian values. Now, being that I'm black, that has usually meant concern for racial and economic justice, truth and honest in politics, so forth and so on, but not necessarily, if at all, anti-abortion and gay rights. Black folks have enough on our minds before we start actually considering voting on personal issues like that. You lucky white person you.

You know how the best response to accusations that Obama is a Muslim is to say, "First of all, he's not. Second of all, so what if he were?" Well, honestly, I do have a mild problem if he were. That's my confession. I'd have a much easier time voting for a Republican Christian than a Democrat Muslim.

That's not to say I wouldn't vote for that black Muslim or any Muslim. And, I guess, here's my basic point, there are some things some of us Americans are dealing with that are so deep and unconscious that they don't come up without prodding. Racism, for example. Granted, doesn't take much prodding, but you get my point.

Here's the thing. Whatever you were taught as a child, that's over. You can't keep blaming your parents or even society for your willful ignorance and prejudice. Just like I can't blame my upbringing for the anxiety I feel voting for a random Muslim or in this fledgling relationship.

I'm an adult. I'm my own person. I make my own choices and decisions, good or bad, which accounts for why I'm still up long after I should actually be in bed . . . if not asleep. And if there's something inside of you that won't let you vote for a colored/negro/black/African-American, you have to make a decision to vote based on principles, policy, etc and not race. And. You can do it. You mush. Otherwise, and here's where I can release some pent-up cynicism, you're a racist.

So, that's my little piece of sincerity today.

Here I'm Is

Yeah, I don't mean that sentence literally. It's not acceptable in any form of English. It's just something I heard my little cousin say when she was 2-years old.

Again, today. Some stream of consciousness about the world around me.

Let me start by saying that Americans, especially those who lack the melanin content of others, need to get over ourselves. We're not God's gift to the world. Right at this very moment, while we claim to support democracy and are willing to occupy a country that posed no danger to us, we're undermining a democracy in South America. Quite possibly just because Evo Morales and his left-leaning government doesn't dance to our tune.

No, America. We're not the greatest place on earth. We're not the the Disney Land of the world. Get over it!

We claim to be a land of religious tolerance. Not true. Ask the Muslim in your neighborhood. There aren't any? Try your job. Still none? Find someone who looks Arab, promise you're not wired, and ask them their truest thoughts of America.

We claim to be a Christian nation. That's not true, either. Oh, I know how candidates for president have to profess a belief in Christ. I know how we treat the poor, the orphaned, the widowed, etc, etc, so on and so forth. All of which leads me to the conclusion that we got a bunch of people who're crying, "Lord, Lord!" and ain't nowhere near heaven.

We claim to be a racially tolerant nation. Well, I'm black so I know that's a load of crap. In fact, that's what the previously mentioned male friend added to my list of traits I want in a husband. He's anti-assimilation. Which is odd if you knew him. But, that's what I heard him say. And, well, I like that. I'm anti-assimilation, too. Yes, I can speak standard American English with the best of'em. I have my "white" voice. I can "act white" when necessary. But ultimately, I feel as though I'm being deceptive when I do those things. And I am indeed deceiving the audience of my "white" performance into accepting me for the person they would like me to be, and not the person I really am. I do that to get what I want. Studies have shown that the average person responds more positively to whiteness than blackness. So, I get what I want and go on with life.

I mean, take a look at the most liberal site you can find. Huffington Post. Alternet.org. Read the articles, then read the comments.

Which further proves my point that we're not a Christian nation. Over 30% of our citizens, in order to be successful, have to put on a performance. We 30% have to spend at least 8 hours of our day lying about who we really are. Um, yeah, any religious leader who spent more time with the so-called "sinners and tax-collecters" than he did high priests and scribes would not force others to be anything but who they are in order to be successful.

Now, granted, I'm kinda down right now. My football fantasy teams aren't performing as well as I had hoped. You'd think I'd be able to just shake that off, but no.

So, here I'm is with a few of my general complaints about America.

And when I mention our lack of religious tolerance, I'm including dogmatic atheists and agnostics as well. It bothers me that these intellectuals who understandably demand rational proof of God can't separate religious teachings from religious people and their most demonstrably religious actions. I once can across someone who was trying to make the barb that in Christianity, a man dies to receive 10 virgins while at least Islam gives him 72. The guy was referencing a parable, a story Jesus told to help explain how the Kingdom of God works. The fact that he couldn't tell the difference between a parable and actual promises led me to the conclusion that he's not the genius atheist he thinks he is.

Which brings me to another point. We claim to be a sexually tolerant nation. We're not. Whether or not your sexuality and sexual activity is accepted depends on your race, your gender, and the particular group you're in at the moment. We have a healthy margin of people who believe whole-heartedly in sexual purity - at least for females - and who decry the relatively high amount of sexual content on TV. As though they can't turn the channel. Then there're those who think waiting until you're married to have sex is a terrible idea. No, no one's actually explained to me why that is, but whoa! Just find yourself someone who's "sexually liberated" and find out just how uptight they are.

Yes. I'm a virgin. Oh, believe me. It's by choice. If at this moment right now, I decided to have sex, I could change my networking-site status and find at least 10 sexual partners available tonight. And another 10 who'd be willing to fly in or fly me out by tomorrow.

And, as promised, I suppose I should list some general complaints about the world at large.

Okay. Let me first start with America's international affairs. We went to war with the Taliban if Afganistan, illegally invaded Iraq, talking tough about Iran and Russia. Meanwhile, there's a genocide in the Darfur region of the country of Sudan on the continent of Africa and what have we done? At least 5 million people have died in the war(s) in Congo on the same continent and what have we done? . . . Oh, I should be clear. I mean, what have we done to promote peace? Cause the fact that we're selling weapons in these regions does count for doing something, just not something constructive. And before you fault "those people" as though we American are above such destructive actions, interview some Iraqis and also, some women in our military.

And as far as international affairs apart from America, Georgia needs to stop their illegal, genocidal actions in South Ossetia.

Okay. I gotta go now. But I'll be back. And I'm not promising a better mood.

So Much To Talk About

First of all, Tucker Bounds, spokesperson for the McCain campaign, is despicable, I think.

Secondly, PAYING HIGHER TAXES IS PATRIOTIC. Let's talk about who'll be paying higher taxes - people who make a quarter of a million or more. The hedge fund managers who've made millions in the midst of this financial crisis that's required a government bailout. And seeing as how the military is made up overwhelmingly of young people from the working class, it wouldn't kill the chicken hawks to pay more in taxes so that people in the working class have more options than joining the military.

What else has happened in my life?

Oh. I've finally reconnected with a friend I haven't spoken to in a couple of years. Though, we probably won't be as close as we once were, the whole thing is kinda odd. There was a time when I needed her friendship just to maintain my own sanity. And now, two years later, I'm fairly sure I'm sane. Pretty sure.

It's just odd how much can happen in a couple of years. There are many ways in which I've grown and matured. And there're other ways in which I'll probably never change. For example, I now know I need to open myself and my heart to new people and experiences. On the other hand, my crooked way of view the world and expressing what I see hasn't changed. Another friend actually prayed that in that vane, I don't change. Which makes me wonder, is there something I actually should consider changing . . . I wonder but make no effort in that vane. I'm cool.

Then there's just life itself. Since I last talked to this friend, my brother has gotten married. I've gotten over my college crush. For a few months, I thought I had found the man I would marry. And I know all the reasons why I felt that way. This person not only met every standard I have, he added one! To me, that's amazing.

And I'm living the life I want to live, my health notwithstanding. I couldn't say that two years ago. Then, as now, I wanted to bring intellectual stability to the Black church. But now, I have a greater sense of how to do that.

I'm meeting people from around the world. I'm imagining a life beyond America. Two years ago, I couldn't imagine life beyond my house and the aunts and uncles up and down the road from me. Today, I can imagine life years from now. Two years ago, I couldn't imagine life much beyond any particular day.

Which is odd. Cause two years ago, it killed me that I couldn't imagine life not hardly a year out. But today, I enjoy each day on its own merits. And because I'm receiving better treatments, I can start to imagine years out. But, it wouldn't bother me if I was just marking from one day to the next.

Two years ago, the stock market was at all time highs! Do you remember that? Do you remember when the Dow Jones kept brushing up and down 14,000? At this moment, it's at 9,556. And even two years ago, it was apparent that prosperity wasn't trickling down.

And here's why I've had to take a break from American politics. See, I have a low tolerance for shear stupidity. Now, despite the mess conservative philosophy has made of the economy, people are still considering voting for McCain/Palin. Is that not shear stupidity? This whole, supply-side theory has never worked! We've always had to borrow money to make up for the loss of revenue from lowering taxes on the rich.

It's the conservative philosophy that has us in this energy crisis. If we had followed President Jimmy Carter's advice 30 years ago, the cost of gas wouldn't matter that much. And people are still considering voting for McCain/Palin. Isn't that shear stupidity?

Neo-conservatives have gotten us into Iraq. The conservative policy of privatizing everything gave us the Katrina disaster. Conservatives want to "drill, baby, drill." Meanwhile, it's just becoming clear the environmental damage the previous hurricane has had, including oil spills and damage to oil rigs in the gulf. And not only are there people who are considering voting for McCain/Palin, there are some idiots who will vote for McCain/Palin. They're buying this idea that Barack Obama gets "touchy" when his record is questioned and that that should make them question Obama. I mean, do they not recall how indignant McCain gets anytime someone questions his record. And this whole Rev. Wright issue only serves to prove how racist mainstream America is.

And the McCain campaign has decided to turn the page from talking about the economy to bringing up guilt by association issues with Obama. And there are some idiots who will go for it!

Shear stupidity.

So, that's my post for today. More of less stream of consciousness. I tried to find some theme so my post would make sense to you, the reader. But . . .

Oh, yeah! That reminds me. The most ironic thing about this particular friendship is that she graduated with a BA in biology. I majored in history and minored in creative writing. Now, I use my writing skills mostly for the blog and recently for writing essays for grant applications. And she has a website advertising her professional writing skills! Everything from poems to technical writing. I haven't touched fiction in at least a year. It's amazing to me. Then again, it could be my crooked way of viewing the world that I should or shouldn't work on changing.

And let me give a "shout out" to my 22nd rank UNC football Tarheels! You better do it, boys!