Last night I got to see Iron Man 3 with my family. We saw it in the theatre. I think the last movie I saw in the theatre was Oblivion, and before that, The Avengers. I don't get to see movies in the theatre as much as I'd like. But last night we went to a theatre with great 7.1 digital surround sound, with bass tones that vibrated my chair and tickled my butt, and I got to choose where to sit (because we were celebrating my birthday), so I got to sit right in the front row. There's no better seat than right down in front. The screen can't get any bigger than that. You're completely surrounded by the movie. As close to living in it as I've ever gotten. And I got to be there with both my boys and my best-friend-wife. And we didn't have to pay for it because we used my birthday gift certificates. And the movie kicked ass. Supremely.
Then I went home, and I got a clog out of my washing machine drain. Nobody thought I could do it. I didn't really know if I could do it. But I did it. With almost no effort. With a plan that I came up with on my own. That my family makes fun of me about from time to time. But it worked this time. Pretty easily. And now my drain is unclogged. And maybe, my washing machine will work okay now, since I fixed the drain tube last weekend and it doesn't leak anymore. Yeah, I did that. Fixed the drain tube. All by my fuckin' self.
And then I got to sleep next to my best-friend-wife. We were both feeling sick, but we both had some skin on each other. And usually that's all that matters-- having a little skin on each other.
And then today, I got promoted. After being denied twice before, I got promoted.
And I might have a better job in line in the future. Which I would very much like to be better than my current job, and would like to take it if it's better than my current job.
And my wife and two boys haven't been bothered by legal people or abusive fathers in almost 24 hours.
Yeah, I'm doing okay today.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Hello, This Is God
Hello. This is God speaking. I really just wanted to take a few minutes and clear up a few things.
First off, yes, I exist. Secondly, I am able to make a rock so big even I can't lift it. I know that's a troubling one, but it's true. If you don't believe me, think about Heaven. I created the universe, the Earth, and all the people on it. I created Paradise, but nobody was allowed in. Why? Well, when you find a really great resort, do you go around telling everybody you know about it so that it becomes crowded with tourists, or do you keep it to yourself? I rest my case. So I've got this groovy pad to chill in, you people can't get in, and everything is coolio. But then I start hearing a whole bunch of whining from Hell. "Why didn't you tell us about Heaven, God?" "Why are you keeping it all to yourself??" Well, it's not like I could just open the doors for everybody. It had to be exclusive, otherwise it wouldn't be Paradise, would it? So I made it so that nobody could get in unless my son (which wasn't gonna happen, cuz I ALWAYS wrap up the God Cock), dies on a cross, gets buried for three days, and then rises from the grave (yeah, right), to open up the doors of Heaven for everyone. Nothing I can do about it. So you see, the way into Heaven was so difficult even **I** couldn't open them!
And I wish you guys would stop calling me the God of Love. Seriously, I knocked up some chick on her way to Bethlehem before her husband even had a chance to get in there, let her have the kid without even so much as a Devine Pain Killer or a Holy Epidural, let the other guy raise my kid without so much as one alimony check, then I let his friends spit on him, throw rocks at him, jab spears into him, nail him to a cross until he died, let him get buried in a tomb for three days (you know how hungry you get after a day without lunch? Well, I made him go three days without ANYTHING), and then I made him WALK all the way from Golgotha to Heaven, at which point I said, "yeah, okay, you've done enough. You can go ahead and come in. And you can let in your friends, too." I kinda started Facebook like that. Anyway, that's not really "love", is it? I mean, yeah, if you define love as "really cruel acts of physical brutality that continue over a sustained period of time and don't feel good", I suppose all of that would be considered love. But then, you wouldn't call "sex" "love making", you would call "rape for three days in the butt with a cactus" "love making". And you don't. You don't do that at all. So, really, I'm not the God of Love.
In fact, most of what I do would be classified in the I Don't Care section of life. I don't really love you people. Yeah, I made you. Kinda like you make poo. It just happens. And then you flush it. And then, suddenly, your toilet starts talking to you, calling you Hosanna and shit, and you're like, "Whoa, my shit is talking to me." And then, you know, just for fun, you make one of your turds think he needs to kill his son to prove how much he loves you. And he actually almost does it! I mean, he's got the knife above his head and he's ready to kill his son, and you have to jump in and stop him, cuz he's just a shit and he doesn't know that he's just a shit and you were just joking with him. I mean, you joke around because you never thought your shits would become sentient, let alone start building cities and discovering fire. It's just, you know, not what you would expect. So you walk away from the toilet, because you've got other things to do-- PlayStation, porn, you know, that kind of stuff-- and you come back, and the shit is STILL THERE! Thriving! Singing praises to you! Fuck, I mean, it's interesting, but not something I'm gonna sit around all day long and watch after. That's like what you are to me. I don't care about your prayers, I don't hear them, cuz most of the time you don't say them out loud, I don't let bad things happen to good people because I'm not there most of the time, and I don't have that much invested in you in the first place. How much do you have invested in your shits? Not much, that's right.
Just about everything else, you guys made up on your own. You created the story of Adam and Eve. You made up Noah. Cuz seriously, do you honestly think **I** would be so stupid to create horrible people who don't do what I say TWICE?? If I said "Don't eat the apple," and then you go and eat the apple, I'm not giving you a second chance. And I'm CERTAINLY not gonna go, "Well, dammit, you ate the apple, so now you guys have to go out and fuck a lot." Because unbeknownst to a lot of you so-called "Christians", sex is fun! It feels good! You're so busy hiding in fear from it and not talking about it and being scared that some dude is gonna stick his dick in your butthole that you ignore just how excellent it really is! Why do you always associate goodness with sin? Are you really that fucked up? "This chocolate cake is SINFULLY delicious!" "Don't masturbate or you'll go to hell!" "Bacon isn't kosher!" What is wrong with you people?! Fucking fuck, you're all idiots.
Look, just live your life. Quit being so concerned with how anybody else lives their life, and just life your life. I don't care if you believe in me or not, because I don't really care about you. Honestly, you've given me very little reason to care about you. All the genocide and anger and hate and war and weapons and senseless killings and rape and murder and aggression and jealousies and hostilities and small-pox-infested-blankets you gave to the Native Americans and slavery and sexual oppression and the Crusades and witch hunts and divorce lawyers and step-mothers and Russell Fucking Crowe... there is so very little you have done that would make anyone stick around for longer than it took to shit you out in the first place. There is no Heaven. Just the rest of my bathroom. There is no Hell. Just my disposal. There is no Limbo, Purgatory, saints, or Holy Days. I don't care if you pray, because I'm not listening. In fact, I'm not really God. I'm just a guy with a crapper filled with shit, and the shit wants to think it's something more than it is. You're just shit. And one day, you'll get flushed. As soon as I can get a plumber in here, you'll all just go away. So fucking live your life and shut the fuck up. Make good use of the time you've got and quit worrying about everybody else.
First off, yes, I exist. Secondly, I am able to make a rock so big even I can't lift it. I know that's a troubling one, but it's true. If you don't believe me, think about Heaven. I created the universe, the Earth, and all the people on it. I created Paradise, but nobody was allowed in. Why? Well, when you find a really great resort, do you go around telling everybody you know about it so that it becomes crowded with tourists, or do you keep it to yourself? I rest my case. So I've got this groovy pad to chill in, you people can't get in, and everything is coolio. But then I start hearing a whole bunch of whining from Hell. "Why didn't you tell us about Heaven, God?" "Why are you keeping it all to yourself??" Well, it's not like I could just open the doors for everybody. It had to be exclusive, otherwise it wouldn't be Paradise, would it? So I made it so that nobody could get in unless my son (which wasn't gonna happen, cuz I ALWAYS wrap up the God Cock), dies on a cross, gets buried for three days, and then rises from the grave (yeah, right), to open up the doors of Heaven for everyone. Nothing I can do about it. So you see, the way into Heaven was so difficult even **I** couldn't open them!
And I wish you guys would stop calling me the God of Love. Seriously, I knocked up some chick on her way to Bethlehem before her husband even had a chance to get in there, let her have the kid without even so much as a Devine Pain Killer or a Holy Epidural, let the other guy raise my kid without so much as one alimony check, then I let his friends spit on him, throw rocks at him, jab spears into him, nail him to a cross until he died, let him get buried in a tomb for three days (you know how hungry you get after a day without lunch? Well, I made him go three days without ANYTHING), and then I made him WALK all the way from Golgotha to Heaven, at which point I said, "yeah, okay, you've done enough. You can go ahead and come in. And you can let in your friends, too." I kinda started Facebook like that. Anyway, that's not really "love", is it? I mean, yeah, if you define love as "really cruel acts of physical brutality that continue over a sustained period of time and don't feel good", I suppose all of that would be considered love. But then, you wouldn't call "sex" "love making", you would call "rape for three days in the butt with a cactus" "love making". And you don't. You don't do that at all. So, really, I'm not the God of Love.
In fact, most of what I do would be classified in the I Don't Care section of life. I don't really love you people. Yeah, I made you. Kinda like you make poo. It just happens. And then you flush it. And then, suddenly, your toilet starts talking to you, calling you Hosanna and shit, and you're like, "Whoa, my shit is talking to me." And then, you know, just for fun, you make one of your turds think he needs to kill his son to prove how much he loves you. And he actually almost does it! I mean, he's got the knife above his head and he's ready to kill his son, and you have to jump in and stop him, cuz he's just a shit and he doesn't know that he's just a shit and you were just joking with him. I mean, you joke around because you never thought your shits would become sentient, let alone start building cities and discovering fire. It's just, you know, not what you would expect. So you walk away from the toilet, because you've got other things to do-- PlayStation, porn, you know, that kind of stuff-- and you come back, and the shit is STILL THERE! Thriving! Singing praises to you! Fuck, I mean, it's interesting, but not something I'm gonna sit around all day long and watch after. That's like what you are to me. I don't care about your prayers, I don't hear them, cuz most of the time you don't say them out loud, I don't let bad things happen to good people because I'm not there most of the time, and I don't have that much invested in you in the first place. How much do you have invested in your shits? Not much, that's right.
Just about everything else, you guys made up on your own. You created the story of Adam and Eve. You made up Noah. Cuz seriously, do you honestly think **I** would be so stupid to create horrible people who don't do what I say TWICE?? If I said "Don't eat the apple," and then you go and eat the apple, I'm not giving you a second chance. And I'm CERTAINLY not gonna go, "Well, dammit, you ate the apple, so now you guys have to go out and fuck a lot." Because unbeknownst to a lot of you so-called "Christians", sex is fun! It feels good! You're so busy hiding in fear from it and not talking about it and being scared that some dude is gonna stick his dick in your butthole that you ignore just how excellent it really is! Why do you always associate goodness with sin? Are you really that fucked up? "This chocolate cake is SINFULLY delicious!" "Don't masturbate or you'll go to hell!" "Bacon isn't kosher!" What is wrong with you people?! Fucking fuck, you're all idiots.
Look, just live your life. Quit being so concerned with how anybody else lives their life, and just life your life. I don't care if you believe in me or not, because I don't really care about you. Honestly, you've given me very little reason to care about you. All the genocide and anger and hate and war and weapons and senseless killings and rape and murder and aggression and jealousies and hostilities and small-pox-infested-blankets you gave to the Native Americans and slavery and sexual oppression and the Crusades and witch hunts and divorce lawyers and step-mothers and Russell Fucking Crowe... there is so very little you have done that would make anyone stick around for longer than it took to shit you out in the first place. There is no Heaven. Just the rest of my bathroom. There is no Hell. Just my disposal. There is no Limbo, Purgatory, saints, or Holy Days. I don't care if you pray, because I'm not listening. In fact, I'm not really God. I'm just a guy with a crapper filled with shit, and the shit wants to think it's something more than it is. You're just shit. And one day, you'll get flushed. As soon as I can get a plumber in here, you'll all just go away. So fucking live your life and shut the fuck up. Make good use of the time you've got and quit worrying about everybody else.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Losing A Little Bit Of Me
I think I've always thought that people, basically, try to do good things. Basically. No matter what your belief system is, I've always believed that people try to be good. Sometimes you get bad behaviors, but those behaviors aren't typical and wouldn't define a person as not trying to do good things, according to my definition. I guess I'm not even really sure what my definition is of "trying to do good things" would be. But I guess I figured that people tended to act like me, and I tried to make others as happy as possible while establishing secure boundaries around myself to make myself as happy as possible. And I thought others did the same.
Recent events, however, have brought me to a different place in my life where I don't really believe that anymore. And I really don't like it.
Recently, my wife broke down crying, telling me that going to court was making her act in a way that "wasn't her", and it was hurting her. She was speaking about having to keep track of all the horrible, nasty, ugly things that people do, notating all the awful and reporting on the awful to somebody else. Focusing on the bad, and making sure that it translates into something that will make others believe it, too, is bad. And keeping track of all the times somebody breaks a law or missteps. Those actions are not my wife, and those actions were what was hurting her. She is a person who tries hard, every day, to make sure she focuses on the things that make her happy. And if you focus on the things that make you happy and try to push away the things that make you miserable, when you go to court, you have no case. Because, essentially, you're happy. And you've tried to forget about the things that haven't been good. But that's all they want to focus on in court: the Not Good Things.
I believe, at this point in my life, that there are people who don't want to do good things. I believe there are people who want to do bad things. And I believe that they know certain things are good or bad. I believe that everyone has a feeling when they do something good, and even if they aren't aware of it, they know the feeling to be a good one.
I also believe that the Christian faith has provided a very good shelter for those who want to do bad things. One of the things Christianity teaches is that all sins will be forgiven if you simply believe in God. With this in mind, one could easily justify all behaviors if one said he believed in God, as the Almighty, the Most Powerful, The Creator Of Heaven And Earth, Of All That Is Seen And Unseen has seen what you do and has forgiven EVERYTHING you do because you believe in God. Therefore, you have no more responsibilities. For anything. Beat a cat but believe in God, forgiven. Rape a child but believe in God, forgiven. Start a genocide and the second world war but believe in God, forgiven. There is nothing you can do which holds any power over that part of you that feels your actions might be good or bad anymore, because EVERYTHING you do has become good. As long as you believe in God, there is nothing you can do which is bad. Not all Christians believe this, but this train of thought provides a refuge for those who want to do bad things. It is the perfect place to hide if you want to be bad and be acceptable. And it's not fair to other Christians who want to be good.
But basically, it's not fair to the world. There are people in the world who want to hurt you, perhaps repeatedly. They aren't simple bad behaviors. They are people who intend harm always. I did not believe there were such people. Now I do. And I feel like I've lost a little bit of me because of that. And I miss that part.
Recent events, however, have brought me to a different place in my life where I don't really believe that anymore. And I really don't like it.
Recently, my wife broke down crying, telling me that going to court was making her act in a way that "wasn't her", and it was hurting her. She was speaking about having to keep track of all the horrible, nasty, ugly things that people do, notating all the awful and reporting on the awful to somebody else. Focusing on the bad, and making sure that it translates into something that will make others believe it, too, is bad. And keeping track of all the times somebody breaks a law or missteps. Those actions are not my wife, and those actions were what was hurting her. She is a person who tries hard, every day, to make sure she focuses on the things that make her happy. And if you focus on the things that make you happy and try to push away the things that make you miserable, when you go to court, you have no case. Because, essentially, you're happy. And you've tried to forget about the things that haven't been good. But that's all they want to focus on in court: the Not Good Things.
I believe, at this point in my life, that there are people who don't want to do good things. I believe there are people who want to do bad things. And I believe that they know certain things are good or bad. I believe that everyone has a feeling when they do something good, and even if they aren't aware of it, they know the feeling to be a good one.
I also believe that the Christian faith has provided a very good shelter for those who want to do bad things. One of the things Christianity teaches is that all sins will be forgiven if you simply believe in God. With this in mind, one could easily justify all behaviors if one said he believed in God, as the Almighty, the Most Powerful, The Creator Of Heaven And Earth, Of All That Is Seen And Unseen has seen what you do and has forgiven EVERYTHING you do because you believe in God. Therefore, you have no more responsibilities. For anything. Beat a cat but believe in God, forgiven. Rape a child but believe in God, forgiven. Start a genocide and the second world war but believe in God, forgiven. There is nothing you can do which holds any power over that part of you that feels your actions might be good or bad anymore, because EVERYTHING you do has become good. As long as you believe in God, there is nothing you can do which is bad. Not all Christians believe this, but this train of thought provides a refuge for those who want to do bad things. It is the perfect place to hide if you want to be bad and be acceptable. And it's not fair to other Christians who want to be good.
But basically, it's not fair to the world. There are people in the world who want to hurt you, perhaps repeatedly. They aren't simple bad behaviors. They are people who intend harm always. I did not believe there were such people. Now I do. And I feel like I've lost a little bit of me because of that. And I miss that part.
I Hope I'll Get To See You Sometimes
Imagine that your 12-year-old is the kind of person who doesn't want to rock the boat. He's the kind of boy who wants everything to be smooth sailing. Heck, who doesn't, right? But he will almost go out of his way to make sure nobody is upset with him.
Imagine that your ex-husband is abusive and everybody is always guilty, according to him. And he wants to hurt you as much and as often as he can, because you divorced him. You didn't allow him to control you. So he's made it his life-goal to punish you every chance he gets.
Imagine that you try to make your 12-year-old comfortable and happy as much as you're able. You tell him that you want him to tell you what he wants, even if it hurts your feelings. You want him to express himself.
These three things concoct the perfect storm for the abusive ex-husband to steal the 12-year-old from you, possibly forever. The 12-year-old wants everything to go smoothly. When he's with you, it's all smooth, no matter what. When he's with dad, it's only smooth if he's doing what dad says. And, ultimately, it's not smooth with you if your 12-year-old does what you say and the dad finds out. Because then you're going against dad, because siding with mom is siding against dad. And the 12-year-old just wants everything to be smooth. If he doesn't go against dad, it's all smooth. So the answer then becomes Don't Go Against Dad.
So when dad signs up the 12-year-old for Christian Brainwashing Camp, he Doesn't Go Against Dad. And when dad signs him up for football camps, and football intensives, and football footballs, he Doesn't Go Against Dad. And you get cut out. And you don't get to help raise your own child anymore. And it's very possible, that even though the court order says the visitation remains the same unless dad schedules something for the 12-year-old to do, dad will make sure that the 12-year-old has something to do every week he's supposed to be with his mother. Not only possible, but probable.
And there's nothing that can be done about it.
So, the moral of the story is: if you want to hurt and bully somebody, nothing can stop you.
Like terrorism.
Imagine that your ex-husband is abusive and everybody is always guilty, according to him. And he wants to hurt you as much and as often as he can, because you divorced him. You didn't allow him to control you. So he's made it his life-goal to punish you every chance he gets.
Imagine that you try to make your 12-year-old comfortable and happy as much as you're able. You tell him that you want him to tell you what he wants, even if it hurts your feelings. You want him to express himself.
These three things concoct the perfect storm for the abusive ex-husband to steal the 12-year-old from you, possibly forever. The 12-year-old wants everything to go smoothly. When he's with you, it's all smooth, no matter what. When he's with dad, it's only smooth if he's doing what dad says. And, ultimately, it's not smooth with you if your 12-year-old does what you say and the dad finds out. Because then you're going against dad, because siding with mom is siding against dad. And the 12-year-old just wants everything to be smooth. If he doesn't go against dad, it's all smooth. So the answer then becomes Don't Go Against Dad.
So when dad signs up the 12-year-old for Christian Brainwashing Camp, he Doesn't Go Against Dad. And when dad signs him up for football camps, and football intensives, and football footballs, he Doesn't Go Against Dad. And you get cut out. And you don't get to help raise your own child anymore. And it's very possible, that even though the court order says the visitation remains the same unless dad schedules something for the 12-year-old to do, dad will make sure that the 12-year-old has something to do every week he's supposed to be with his mother. Not only possible, but probable.
And there's nothing that can be done about it.
So, the moral of the story is: if you want to hurt and bully somebody, nothing can stop you.
Like terrorism.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Newton's Laws of Emotion
Today, I find myself getting pissed at the courtesies I've shown to others.
Yeah, I know. Normally I would get down on myself for not being kind enough to people, or ruminating on something I said that I deemed not polite or empathetic enough. Not today. Today, as I take my exhausted brain, back, arms, legs and butt, and raise my exhausted axe above my exhausted head, I'm not aiming for myself for failures of etiquette or decency, but rather my willingness to extend those acts of decency to those who shouldn't have them.
A while ago, a colleague of mine got in my face and screamed at me for a prolonged period of time in a manner in which, I thought, would result in his fist pounding into my gut or face. I was certain I was going to get punched. I didn't. And after he screamed at me, for something that was not my fault, he extended his hand, saying, "Welcome home." I shook his hand. I'm so mad at myself for shaking his hand. He did not deserve that gesture. And it was a lie. A lie signifying that I was okay with him. And I was not. And I still am not.
Yesterday, I arrived at my home and the guardian ad litem was there, doing a home visit and speaking with her clients, our children. The last time she was hired to represent them, she did not do her job very well. She failed our children, and caused my wife and myself great hurt from injustice. Yesterday, we allowed her to be alone with the children. Yeah, it's the law. But as a parent, how happy are you to leave your children alone in a room with somebody who has a history of not looking out for their best interests? If you're even a semi-decent parent, it probably gives you pause. Yesterday, however, when she emerged from our 16-year-old's room and saw me for the first time since I had arrived home, she shook my hand. And we hugged. I am mad at myself for that gesture. It's a lie.
I wish my Axe of Justice really worked, and everything I swung at was immediately handed Justice. But my wife reminded me yesterday of words our previous lawyer said at one point: "There is no Justice."
Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's good that there's not Justice. If there were Justice, I would be punished for shaking my colleague's hand, or for hugging the guardian ad litem. And, honestly, I don't really want to be punished for that. I'm sure that I've done bad things, acted with malicious intent, intentionally caused... I dunno... "harm" is too strong. I'm not sure that I've intentionally caused harm. Yeah, now that I'm thinking about it, I have intentionally caused harm. And sure, it can be masked behind, "I was in a fight and I was trying to defend myself." But I was still intending to do harm. The reason doesn't really matter when Justice is concerned, right? If there is no Justice, then I can forgive myself for causing harm to those guys who were trying to mug me when I was a kid, or for fighting my roommate in college when he was wrestling me and wouldn't let me go, or when I punched my father in the asshole for pulling my hair and throwing me down to the ground. No, I didn't start these fights, but I did have malicious intent. I wanted to hurt somebody. And Justice would probably have something to say about that.
Or not. Maybe Justice is the karmic manifestation of Newton's Laws of Motion, specifically the third law stating that any action must have an equal and opposite reaction. Upon reflection, though, this doesn't quite mesh with my example. Example: My father tells me to throw away an aluminum can. I tell him I'm going to recycle it. He tells me there isn't time. I start walking to the recycling bin. He grabs my hair, stopping me. I swing at him. He throws me to the ground. As he's sitting on me, I punch him in his asshole. So, to simplify, the action of physical aggression, as was first demonstrated by my father pulling my hair, should result in an equal yet opposite reaction. Taking a swing at him is not opposite of his actions towards me. Not completely. He acted with aggression, and I reacted with the same aggression.
I find it difficult to imagine a situation that would align with Newton's Laws of Motion when it comes to the motions of human emotions, in that it's hard to imagine an opposite reaction to an emotional action. I love you, so you react with the opposite emotion of love, which is apathy. Rarely does this happen, if ever. Think about kids on a playground. Timmy runs over to Sally and says "I love you!" I don't know that I can imagine a situation where Sally doesn't react to this at all. Similarly, acts of hatred result in equal acts of hatred, not acts of love or peace. Even demonstrations of Passive Resistance, like Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. used, are not similar. They would be examples of making sure people see what the struggle is about. The Indians want salt, so the English beat them down, but the Indians continue march to get their salt from the ocean. The struggle is not about the fight between the English and the Indians. It is about the Indians wanting what is theirs, and the English beating them away from it. Similarly, the American Civil Rights Movement was not about black and white people fighting. It was about black people being treated as people, and the white people beating them away from it. Peaceful resistance is a very cerebral way to fight, but it is still a fight.
And maybe this is all me misunderstanding the scientific minds of those who came before me. Maybe I'm just a dumb actor who doesn't know shit about shit.
It sure would be nice if the reaction to being punched wasn't to punch back, but to hug.
And yet, my Justice Axe wants to cut into me today because my reaction to being punched (metaphorically) by the guardian ad litem was to hug her.
Fuck me. Everything is stupid.
Yeah, I know. Normally I would get down on myself for not being kind enough to people, or ruminating on something I said that I deemed not polite or empathetic enough. Not today. Today, as I take my exhausted brain, back, arms, legs and butt, and raise my exhausted axe above my exhausted head, I'm not aiming for myself for failures of etiquette or decency, but rather my willingness to extend those acts of decency to those who shouldn't have them.
A while ago, a colleague of mine got in my face and screamed at me for a prolonged period of time in a manner in which, I thought, would result in his fist pounding into my gut or face. I was certain I was going to get punched. I didn't. And after he screamed at me, for something that was not my fault, he extended his hand, saying, "Welcome home." I shook his hand. I'm so mad at myself for shaking his hand. He did not deserve that gesture. And it was a lie. A lie signifying that I was okay with him. And I was not. And I still am not.
Yesterday, I arrived at my home and the guardian ad litem was there, doing a home visit and speaking with her clients, our children. The last time she was hired to represent them, she did not do her job very well. She failed our children, and caused my wife and myself great hurt from injustice. Yesterday, we allowed her to be alone with the children. Yeah, it's the law. But as a parent, how happy are you to leave your children alone in a room with somebody who has a history of not looking out for their best interests? If you're even a semi-decent parent, it probably gives you pause. Yesterday, however, when she emerged from our 16-year-old's room and saw me for the first time since I had arrived home, she shook my hand. And we hugged. I am mad at myself for that gesture. It's a lie.
I wish my Axe of Justice really worked, and everything I swung at was immediately handed Justice. But my wife reminded me yesterday of words our previous lawyer said at one point: "There is no Justice."
Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's good that there's not Justice. If there were Justice, I would be punished for shaking my colleague's hand, or for hugging the guardian ad litem. And, honestly, I don't really want to be punished for that. I'm sure that I've done bad things, acted with malicious intent, intentionally caused... I dunno... "harm" is too strong. I'm not sure that I've intentionally caused harm. Yeah, now that I'm thinking about it, I have intentionally caused harm. And sure, it can be masked behind, "I was in a fight and I was trying to defend myself." But I was still intending to do harm. The reason doesn't really matter when Justice is concerned, right? If there is no Justice, then I can forgive myself for causing harm to those guys who were trying to mug me when I was a kid, or for fighting my roommate in college when he was wrestling me and wouldn't let me go, or when I punched my father in the asshole for pulling my hair and throwing me down to the ground. No, I didn't start these fights, but I did have malicious intent. I wanted to hurt somebody. And Justice would probably have something to say about that.
Or not. Maybe Justice is the karmic manifestation of Newton's Laws of Motion, specifically the third law stating that any action must have an equal and opposite reaction. Upon reflection, though, this doesn't quite mesh with my example. Example: My father tells me to throw away an aluminum can. I tell him I'm going to recycle it. He tells me there isn't time. I start walking to the recycling bin. He grabs my hair, stopping me. I swing at him. He throws me to the ground. As he's sitting on me, I punch him in his asshole. So, to simplify, the action of physical aggression, as was first demonstrated by my father pulling my hair, should result in an equal yet opposite reaction. Taking a swing at him is not opposite of his actions towards me. Not completely. He acted with aggression, and I reacted with the same aggression.
I find it difficult to imagine a situation that would align with Newton's Laws of Motion when it comes to the motions of human emotions, in that it's hard to imagine an opposite reaction to an emotional action. I love you, so you react with the opposite emotion of love, which is apathy. Rarely does this happen, if ever. Think about kids on a playground. Timmy runs over to Sally and says "I love you!" I don't know that I can imagine a situation where Sally doesn't react to this at all. Similarly, acts of hatred result in equal acts of hatred, not acts of love or peace. Even demonstrations of Passive Resistance, like Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. used, are not similar. They would be examples of making sure people see what the struggle is about. The Indians want salt, so the English beat them down, but the Indians continue march to get their salt from the ocean. The struggle is not about the fight between the English and the Indians. It is about the Indians wanting what is theirs, and the English beating them away from it. Similarly, the American Civil Rights Movement was not about black and white people fighting. It was about black people being treated as people, and the white people beating them away from it. Peaceful resistance is a very cerebral way to fight, but it is still a fight.
And maybe this is all me misunderstanding the scientific minds of those who came before me. Maybe I'm just a dumb actor who doesn't know shit about shit.
It sure would be nice if the reaction to being punched wasn't to punch back, but to hug.
And yet, my Justice Axe wants to cut into me today because my reaction to being punched (metaphorically) by the guardian ad litem was to hug her.
Fuck me. Everything is stupid.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
today's thoughts
i'm not doing any goddam work today.
i'm just gonna sit in my office and fart.
fuck this noise.
i'm just gonna sit in my office and fart.
fuck this noise.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Catch
A couple of days ago, I played catch with my wife in our backyard. We used a hacky sack and just tossed it back and forth.
It was great.
We'll be doing that again soon.
We're in the market for a ball that glows in the dark (what she would prefer) or a ball that lights up (what I would prefer), but we don't want to have to deal with batteries (what we'd both prefer). Something we could see in the dark and still play catch.
...maybe one day...
It was great.
We'll be doing that again soon.
We're in the market for a ball that glows in the dark (what she would prefer) or a ball that lights up (what I would prefer), but we don't want to have to deal with batteries (what we'd both prefer). Something we could see in the dark and still play catch.
...maybe one day...
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