It finally happened, folks.
Politics (or the stupidity it seems to attract from all sides) has officially caused me to lose. my. shit.
There is an individual I have known for a rather long time here in Chapel Hill.
Today I was called a Nazi.
When I asked how health care was not covered under the “General Welfare” clause, I was informed that if health is nationalized then it’s one more step towards a Communist state and from there Nazi Germany and burning Jews in ovens.
So National Health Care Reform = Slippery Slope = Communism=
Godwin’s Law* is a powerful thing indeed.
So let’s forget the fact that I am not a socialist. That I am not a nationalist. That I do not blame specific groups for the troubles of my country. That I do not see the need to “dispose” of political dissidents.
Or the little tidbit that I would have had to go into hiding if I wanted to avoid either the camps or a bullet.
To the people out there who see this as socialism, please be sure of its definition. Wikipedia has a lengthy set of articles on the subject. “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”*
But what do I know? I’m just an Obamaniac who only voted for the man because he was black.
If you’ll excuse me, I have to go offer a few goats to the Obama shrine I have hidden in my closet while I wait for him to reveal how he fooled the world.
Or I could “worship” someone else which sounds like a much more enjoyable use of my time.
auf Wiedersehen, meine Fruende.
*Godwin’s Law is an observation made by Mike Godwin on (paraphrased) how the longer a discussion goes, the greater the likelihood that a comparison to Hitler is coming.
**The quote is directly from The Princess Bride
***Photo credit goes to Quentin Taratino’s Inglorious Basterds and its official site.
****The phrase translates to “goodbye, my friends” in case anyone was unclear.
Sunday evening, a few of you caught my outburst on Twitter, I apologize for that. For those curious, I am better now. Not a lot but I am no longer in danger of curling into a ball and sobbing or smashing something in anger.
Probably would have been both.
What could destroy every single shred of emotional stability I have like that, you ask?
If you have been reading this blog prior to last June or just read back through my archives, I make it pretty obvious that I adore children. We’re talking kid fever like woah. This is part of why I came to care for Daybreak as much and as fast as I did. If I’m in the supermarket and there is a baby around, I will make silly faces at them without fail. My paternal instincts have been turned up to 11 and have been since I hit puberty.
And in that lies the irony that played a big part in my hating God for almost 6 years.
Because of some damage to my testes, I have a very low sperm count. (Very simplified explanation.) As a result? Sterility.
The guy who wants kids so much so that it hurts? Can’t have them.
While I had known for years that I would have trouble fathering a child, going to a doctor and finding out that it would actually be a damn near impossibility outside of in vitro or adoption for me to have kids…there were tears. I eventually accepted this fact (as much as you can accept something like that) and had decided that when I was fully ready I would just adopt. Have to admit thought that it was easier to hide when I was a teenager and only two or three people I knew were having kids as opposed to now where seven couples are expecting, one just had a baby girl last week, and two others are actively trying.
Every single time I see a baby, I kind of melt into a puddle of goo. And even though it does hurt, I still love to make them smile or laugh. Seeing those eyes light up and hearing a loud giggle as they kick around leaves me with a huge smile on my face.
I am OK with that.
Then this happened.
Said video was also accompanied by a message saying I needed to learn to deal with the issue.
You, as my friend, think you are doing me a favour by shoving that in my face? Bet you were surprised by how pissed I was at you during that phone conversation huh?
Would you send someone who had a permanent limp a video of a man running a marathon and tell them to deal with it?
Then why the fuck would you send me something like that?!
I don’t get why taking a small moment to think before doing something is so hard for people. We aren’t that lazy, are we? It’s called compassion folks, practice a little.
The events of yesterday cost me a friend of 2 years. And as apparently I should be able to deal with this (in her own words, “keep how it affected me to myself and deal with it as a man ” and that I should not be angry for her “doing her duty as my friend”) I was told that she would better off without me.
Feeling’s entirely mutual, bitch.
Not letting it show how much things affect me led to me almost putting a gun in my mouth. I’m never going back to that. I refuse to.
So I’m going to bandage the new bruises on my heart. I’m going to find my happy place. And I’m gonna move on with my life.
Last night was not in the least pleasant. So after I hung up the phone and was trying to bottle the emotions until I could control them, I decided not to. I let it out and then I tried to find something that made me happy. Just one thing.
There really was no contest there.
And with tears still falling, I danced.
Even when my heart was clattering against the floor, I still found it in me to smile. That, dear friends, is dealing with it. The best way I know how.
*Thanks to everyone who sent me good wishes and checked up on me last night. You all win at life. Seriously.
**Super oh-my-god-I-would-hug-you-if-I-could thanks go to BelleRenee who having never heard of me nor knowing what my situation was not only sent her own good thoughts to me and asked how she could help but did not hesitate (there was seriously like a 2 or 3 minute wait) to agree to give me permission to use her famous vlog for this post.
***Comments are open on this post. Please don’t make me regret that.
Don’t know if you’ve been listening lately but I have been blowing up your prayer hotline recently. Not sure if my messages got through (certainly hope they did) but decided to drop a line just for my peace of mind.
I spent a good portion of my life thinking you were just one more pretentious man whose name has been used to excuse bloodshed for 2 millenia. In my defense, I was young and unhealthily angry. I know I know, no excuse but what else can I say other than I eventually grew out of it. But my time as a…I guess militant agnostic is as close to accurate as I can get, did leave its mark.
Despite being my wholly unrepentant sinful self (slight sarcasm mode here), I do try and live up to your examples. I do my best to remain humble. I do help anyone who needs it. I do follow The Golden Rule. I try not to judge. I think I hit most of the high points of your own teachings.
However when I hear of churches who collected donations for Question One in Maine asking what they though you would do? I was pissed. Then some followers outdid themselves by proclaiming they would stop caring for the homeless if gay marriage was legalized and this was held up as a good idea instead of hypocrisy. My brain broke. And I have to wonder what you actually would say if you were to walk the Earth again in the 21st century.
I disagree with many of your followers. Nor am I particularly quiet about it.
Forgive me if this really is some kind of grave sin. Not sure where you said not to think for myself, would like to think you had more common sense from that.
Maybe I’m just bitter at being ostracisized from my own church? My faith in fellow Christians? Yeah it kinda died a little when someone I had prayed with for 2 years tells me to my face that I have no business among them if I disagree with your word. Or that they would pray I would change my mind so I would be allowed into Heaven. “Your word” being that lovely passage in Levictus that is pointed out so often.
I still have faith in you, still talk with you, still try and live my life as best I can. Maybe I just shouldn’t go to church period and fully embraced lapsed Catholicism. Then again I’m stubborn and I know that I will come to hate myself for “copping out”.
What I do know is that when I die, if I get to the Gates and Peter or you tell me that my dissent means I will not be allowed in, I’d have to say you aren’t the person I thought you were and I was disappointed our relationship was under false pretense.
Couldn’t really be that sad as I have all ready promised a friend I would share a condo with her out in the 4th Circle. Whole new spin to the term housewarming, no?
A disappointed Catholic
P. S. I am currently hoping my little heart out that you have a sense of humour because if not, then I am thoroughly screwed.
Dear New York Post,
The copy editors saw nothing wrong with this before giving it the OK to print?
If that’s the case, then you (the management) completely deserve the shitstorm headed your way.
Maybe you (the artist) thought you were being witty because of the recent chimpanzee mauling and how you thought Obama was crazy? Apparently you’re pretty short-sighted since it never occurred to you that likening a half-black president to a monkey was a very very bad idea.
I could ask why the cartoonist thought this was funny but I’d probably just be more infuriated by the answer. Quite honestly, I didn’t believe my mother when she called in full rant mode about this. I didn’t think any major paper today would actually be stupid enough (not naive enough to think no one would think about it, just that the collective staff was smarter) to not pull the plug on it. Then I saw it myself this morning.
Congratulations, you made a self-proclaimed motormouth speechless.
When the only reply I can make to my mother’s tirade on the evils of white men is that it was one idiot, a response which sounded weak even to my ears, then the line has been crossed twice. I could go into how despite the fact that this was the action of one man, it reflects poorly on a whole group of people but I just don’t have the energy.
Sometimes, there is really nothing you can say.