Lest I be accused of "looking the other way", Spitzer is a dork. You know, there are just certain things you probably shouldn't do as a person holding public office. Getting involved in a prostitution ring would be one of them.
Oh, and Rethugs so quick to call for Spitzer's resig: what about all your dumbfucks who got caught doing similar things but didn't feel the need to resign (or worse, who tried to cover it up completely)? See
Sen. David Vitter as an example.
Ultimately: pots and kettles are both black, comprendez vous?
I'm still pretty wiped out from yesterday afternoon's idiocy. After I finished making the soup (just before 7pm), I retreated upstairs and just went to bed. I was done fighting Catholic bullshit for the day. My mom came in at one point to ask me something (I vaguely heard her), but then left when she saw the whole "lights out". I hope she feels fucking guilty. She goddamn well should.
I know the lie of the land with my family. I get it. As the black, non-Catholic wolf in the fold of compliant purple-Kool-aid drinking sheep that is my family, I do not belong. They will never understand my views, or how my life experiences lead me to reject Catholicism. There is no hope of rational discussion. Religion sort of precludes rational thought.
The reason stuff like yesterday gets me so upset is because it's not just a rejection of things, it's a rejection of ME. So much for love being unconditional by your mother. My maternal biological unit is a Catholic first, mother to me second. Somehow, because I do yoga (or tarot cards), I am "wrong" or "deficient" as a human being. I am not to be trusted. Gee, thanks, assholes. And you wonder why I get so angry?
Hey, I know it goes both ways. I know I don't trust my family because of their views. I think they're wrong. I think they're fucking stupid. But that's their choice. I know I am not going to change them. If my mom wants to blow $3,500 out of her meager-ass practically poverty-level $29,500 income for the year on supporting the church, fine.
Believe it or not, I do try to keep a low profile on all that stuff with my family and practice avoidance, because as yesterday shows, confrontation about it serves utterly no purpose. The only one who gets hurts is ME. The least courtesy my own flesh and blood could offer me is to quit trying to convert me or actively saying this shit to my face. I blog about it so I have a place to vent it, so I don't bring it up with them. AGAIN, because I know there is no point.
Sidebar: You would think I could write down some of this stuff in a letter to my family. NOPE. Been there and done that method before on different stuff. There's longstanding reasons why I keep my mouth shut in my family and why this idea of being considered "wrong" and "deficient" is so deep-rooted in me. It's amazing I even like to express myself in writing at all. I like the time it takes; the way you can edit and craft something before giving it out. I tried explaining my feelings in writing - in a non-confrontational way - to my mom once as a teen (13 yo). Hell, I did the whole "I" statement thing, because I was desperately trying to be non-accusatory. What did she do? Drag me in to a therapist without even discussing ANYTHING with me first. I felt like I was being punished. Like how I felt and what I did was wrong. I was so wrong that I had to be dragged somewhere, against my will. This is AFTER I included in the letter how bad I'd felt as a little kid when she did the EXACT same thing to me after my parents' divorce and that incident was one big reason why I typically did not like sharing my feelings or thoughts with her. I was dumped in a therapist's office with NO explanation. What do you think that does to a seven year old's psyche? And then my mom REPEATS the whole thing? OH, I was furious. I sat there in that office and refused to speak. I had my walkman with me and just kept it on.
It would have been one thing, especially as a teen, if my mom had bothered to talk to me first and we'd both come to a mutual decision to see someone. All I was asking for was some understanding and an explanation. I've always been that way: looking for an explanation. If you can give me that, I'm usually willing to negotiate. But nope, two formative experiences drove home the fact that I was somehow "wrong" and I couldn't trust or be accepted by my own family.
It's been that way: Dump me in a therapist's office, or hand me off to Dad because I'm "unmanageable".
Back to religion:
I went through this whole "you're deficient!" thing with two of my friends a few years ago, who actively tried to proselytize to me (both some evangelical crap). I had to put the smackdown on that and tell them in no uncertain terms that what they were doing was offensive to me. I don't try to shove my beliefs down your throat; what gives you the right to do so to me?
Maybe all these people in my life need to read about B.F. Skinner and behaviorist thought. Because all they are doing is giving me negative reinforcement: thoroughly and brutally shoving home the belief in me that religion is mental and emotional enslavement. It is something to be avoided and scorned. Religion is a tool used to bully others. Religion makes people think it's okay to criticize and put down others for being different. Religion is a crutch used by insecure people to prop themselves up and beat someone else down with. I am developing a deep and pathological hatred for Catholicism. It's fucking growing exponetially at this rate. Logically, I know religion can be good for some people. Emotionally, I want to run in a screaming panic from it given all my bad experience.
My right eyebrow/eyeball has been twitching all this morning. Stress. Great.
I guess I'm lucky I'm not gay, huh? I'd probably have been sent to a deprogramming camp or been cattle-prodded.
I just want to cry again.
