Forgive Me.

I am watching very carefully how the world, the U.S., the media and the blogosphere react to the Virginia killings.
I am watching the reaction to evil. What was in that young man's head was evil.
Now, how do you react to evil?
Attempt the barn-door approach? I'm seeing a lot of that, with talk about locking down campuses. Most of these discussions were so lame and ass-covering that they fade quickly.
The Second Amendment approach (if we all had guns, we'd've shot 'im)? Saw some of that as well, and I see the logic in it. I don't necessarily agree with the logic but I see it.
Then there is the approach that says we have to change our society, it is evil-engendering. We have to close the ozone hole, too. More success doing that.
He was sick, no doubt, and many people knew it. No one did much, since the pressure not to exceeded the need to.
If we say that people need to get involved, that means people will start "getting all up in my business"- can we handle that?
How about we just say he was whacked, and leave it at that. I say this because 10 months from now, very few people outside of Virginia will remember anything other than "a bunch of people got killed by a nutcase".
If this isn't an issue that can change our way of relating to each other on a daily basis, then let's just forget it now, since we are going to later this year anyway. Unless you know a whacked person, and you do something, say something or get in their face. If you don't, then just forget it.
So decreed.

I sometimes let the "inner college student" run the place for a while. Not too long, though- he has a tendency to go out and buy beer, Doritos and dip and then I have to clean up the living room.
(01:07:42 PM) Steve: I feel like crap.
(01:08:00 PM) Steve: Oh yeah, hi!
(01:08:07 PM) Steve: Good afternoon!
(01:08:12 PM) Leann: i would think so... but so do i for other reasons
(01:08:34 PM) Leann: did you sleep well?
(01:08:42 PM) Steve: no.
(01:08:49 PM) Leann: damn
(01:09:14 PM) Steve: life sucks. I hate sunshine.
(01:09:53 PM) Steve: damn happy people going out in the sunshine. hate them too.
(01:10:25 PM) Leann: hmmm... i'd say someone is grumpy today
(01:10:44 PM) Steve: what are you trying to say? go ahead....spit it out.....
(01:11:11 PM) Steve: are you saying I'm not being a ray of sunshine?
(01:11:21 PM) Leann: you're acting like me when i'm PMSing
(01:11:22 PM) Steve: 8>D
(01:12:12 PM) Steve: yeah, I'm generally pissy today.
(01:12:40 PM) Steve: all I want is to dive into a vat of chocolate covered ice cream.
(01:12:56 PM) Steve: and play video games
(01:13:00 PM) Leann: hmmm... that does sound good
(01:13:11 PM) Steve: and watch aqua teen hunger force.
(01:13:29 PM) Leann: all i have is lego star wars 1 & 2, enter the matrix
(01:13:57 PM) Steve: those suck. I want to kill babies and puppies.
(01:14:22 PM) Steve: in a video game, of course, if the government is listening. Hi guys! (waves)
(01:14:38 PM) Leann: lol
(01:15:03 PM) Steve: baby puppies would be even better.
(01:15:27 PM) Leann: riiiiight
(01:16:24 PM) Steve: we have a poster at work-
(01:16:40 PM) Leann: about?
(01:16:44 PM) Steve: picture of yoda and vader.
(01:17:08 PM) Steve: yoda- "help you I can?" vader- "sometimes the dark side gets me down."
(01:17:15 PM) Leann: nice
(01:17:36 PM) Steve: it's like a "choose your attitude, help someone today" thing.
(01:17:47 PM) Steve: I want to rip it into tiny pieces.
(01:17:57 PM) Steve: this is my dark side day.
(01:18:07 PM) Leann: i've noticed
(01:18:07 PM) Steve: I am kidding, of course.
(01:18:13 PM) Steve: but not
(01:18:18 PM) Steve: yes I am
(01:18:22 PM) Steve: no I'm not
(01:18:29 PM) Leann: doing some venting?
(01:18:49 PM) Steve: listen you, shut up, I'm doing the talking. No, you're not, I am. No, me.
(01:19:01 PM) Steve: Sorry, the voices are a little testy today.
(01:20:03 PM) Steve: don't even get me started on the whole "he's on my side of the brain" argument.
(01:20:49 PM) Leann: don't worry... i won't
(01:30:33 PM) Leann: so what are you up to?
(01:31:10 PM) Steve: morose indignation, up from flagellating self hatred.
(01:31:29 PM) Leann: well that's productive
(01:31:34 PM) Steve: that's psychically flagellating self hatred. I'm too lazy to actually do it.
(01:31:35 PM) Leann: anything else?
(01:32:31 PM) Steve: oh, the usual- a little laundry, pay a bill or two, plan world domination.
(01:33:05 PM) Leann: don't forget to wave to the government... [waves]
(01:33:17 PM) Steve: and then go to the library and drop off my "positive attitude" books.

The Wolfowitz at the Door

There are a few things in this world that will tick me off, probably unreasonably. Power-mad moneycrats will every time. So I guess you can probably tell how I feel about the BushWalker dynasty. One of their lackeys has been featured recently:
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ap/fn/4713775.html
"(She) says she is a victim and was forced into a job transfer because of their relationship."
Life is a shithole, ain't it? Quit the job, girl. Get another one. It's that simple for your ilk. Or talk your man into it. Oh no, he's too much of a man, isn't he? He'd NEVER do that for little ole' you.
In what way is she not a whore, and he not a john?
I LOVE seeing him do the media equivalent of putting his coat over his head on a perp walk.
Did either of them give the money back?
I am so sure he transferred her against her will, and she didn't know she had an extra $80,000 coming in. Guess he just took care of his woman, as a real man should.
As my dear old granny used to say, "Fuck you, motherfucker!". Actually, what she would have said is, "Honestly, I just don't know what gets into some people.". Same difference, no?

Internal Bar Fight.

I have been admitted to the bar since I was 15. Not the judicial bar, the alcohol dispensing kind.
I am the same size (of varying hefts) now as I was then.
I find bars more friendly than church. I have been asked to come over and help build a garage by people in a much-frequented bar. Never in a much-frequented church. I digress.
I had my last bar fight 6 years ago. I've had a lot of practice over the years.
Last week a friend was verbally attacked by another acquaintance (who had overserved himself). Friend is female, "un femme d'une age certaine", and diminutive. Said acquaintance is 6'2", but no physical specimen. He was using language that was not allowable, even given the latitude that is allowed the overserved. He then did the unthinkable, the unacceptable. He put his finger in her face, and threatened her.
Immediately, I went into overdrive. Expanded my lungs for more oxygen, clenched my fists and headed for him to take him down.
I then turned around and walked out of the bar.
As I had walked toward them, I had noticed that verbally she gave as good as she got. She had other friends around her should he go any farther. She wasn't in danger.
As the cold air hit my hot head, I realized I was in turmoil. I promised myself six years ago I would never, never fight physically again, excepting for my life. For six years I have not been in a situation to do so.
This situation didn't require it, truly. I thanked the nighttime I saw that in time. I feared I might not have the understanding in time again. I doubted I did the right thing. I am aware of my knight-errant leanings. I felt I should apologize to her, but for what?
We, 8 of us, went to breakfast after closing time. She sat in the booth across from me. At one point she reached across the table, took my hand, and mouthed "thank you". She knew. She had seen, and understood, even in the middle of the verbal nonsense she had to deal with. She wasn't approving the impulse, she was acknowleging the self-control. I nodded my head in gratitude, and ate my suddenly exquisitely-tasty huevos rancheros.
I think we'll count this as a victory in the bar fight won/loss columns.
So decreed.

Hideous Glee.

In my last post, I mentioned "sick makes me laugh". I found this out in a discussion with a woman. We were in the "getting to know about your family history" stage. Beyond dating, beyond first physical activities (whatever you conceive that to be). She told me about her grandfather- a brilliant, well-known man in his international community. He died when her father was in his early teens. She told me her grandfather was riding in a jet airplane, the window blew out and he was sucked out the window. The scene was horrific in my mind, and I laughed. I could not control it. It was not a belly-laugh, not a joyous laugh. It was as if the absurdity of it took control, and I was being tickled unmercifully by the gods of chaos. I couldn't help it in any way. I was laughing, completely unwillingly, as I said "Oh my god, no, honey. That's awful. I am so sorry." It didn't last long, but it surprised us both.
A few minutes later I apologized profusely, but I know I hurt her feelings. I know she believed me, and she had occasion to see it again in other circumstances where hideous absurdity became risible to me. She knew it was unwilling, and not something I enjoyed, but something beyond conscious thought.
I'm sure knowing that didn't make it any easier, but I am also sure that she probably will today occasionally say, "This guy I used to date, when I told him how my grandfather died getting sucked out an airplane window, LAUGHED! Can you believe it?"
So decreed.

What's the Deal with the Real?

Hmm. Must be spring.

Pretty Lady is looking for a Real Man. Well, not actively per se. Go visit her, she is perfectly capable of explaining. She has some standards- good ones, by my reckoning.

Nine Pearls has a man, and is asking other men what a Real Man is, and what is manly. Always a good question. Got the usual mix of unintentional hilarity and sincere but bizarre wackiness that occur when we men-folk start opining on ourselves. She rides herd well on the out of control elements. As of this writing, none of her non-heterosexual female readers haved weighed in that I can see. I'm am very interested in their take, should they have one.

I confess, at the half-century mark, that I have spent a good portion of my life trying to be anything but a real man. It came about that I, while not physically attractive in the classic sense, appear to be very solid. I have appeared to be successful, wise, caring, and have a great future ahead of me. I appear to be protective from a physical standpoint. I appear to have strength and gravitas. I have been approached by a lot of women for a lot of reasons, most of them based on image- the image in their mind.

Mind you, since this started happening long before I became a thinking human being sometime in my late thirties, I went with it, often. It got me laid, it got me female companionship. I do not celebrate, excuse or brag. Please do not think I am proud of it. I mention it only as context.

I have been the Nice Guy to one woman, and the Shit to another. I am the One Who Got Away, and also the One She Couldn’t Get Away From Fast Enough. On my really, really effective days (notice I don’t say good) I have been all those concurrently. I have repaid faithfulness with infidelity, and also had unfaithfulness done to me. Which I deserved, by the way.

So, am I a real man?

Sadly, no, which is actually the basis of my beginning to become a real man. So how the hell do I become one?

Pretty Lady actually brought it up as a description of her father, who sounds like a hell of a guy. She states he has integrity, in great quantities. Apparently it’s a genetic thing, passed down father to son for generations.

If so, then my genes are, well, different. My father was an alcoholic politician with a gift for gab and the underhanded deal. My maternal grandfather was an embezzler of note- his father was a very successful insurance salesman, which is in some ways the same thing.*

Integrity was not an integral component of my manliness.

Dad always said, “You’ve ultimately got to face that man in the mirror”. Dad was an asshat, and wrong to boot.

No one is easier for me to face, and to lie to.

What was hard was to look at the wreckage around me, and say, “How the hell did stuff get wrecked?”.

So I’ve been cleaning up wreckage. This blog will sometimes be part of the clean-up process. Yeah, like a thousand others- I know. I'll try to make it interesting on occasion, or at least grammatically correct. Sometimes. I can promise it will usually be spelled correctly. Best I can do right now. Most other times it will be the usual mix of uninformed opinion, half-truths and outright distortion. Sort of like Fox News. Or Air America (R.I.P.).

When a house is flooded, it is relatively easy to clean the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the outside. What’s hard is to open all the kitchen drawers and get the gooey, yucky silt and sludge out from the drawer, behind the drawer, and inside the frame of the cabinets.

So, if you read any of these or future words, thanks for recognizing the clean-up in progress. I’m trying to discern the integrity of the foundation. It may need shoring up, or replacement- or may be completely irreparable. I'm not too familiar with integrity, but willing to learn.

Helpful suggestions always appreciated.

Can’t tell ‘til the muck is out of the way. This is a site Under Deconstruction.

So decreed.

*Insurance salespeople, do not freak out. 1. I spent 11 years in the trade, I know whereof I speak. I wasn't talking about you. 2. I said “some ways”.

(Mathew Baldwin is, to me, a Real Man. I usually smirk at my computer, rarely LOL. This made me giggle. Yes, I know, it's actually a little sick. Sick makes me laugh.)