Make Up Your Minds

I'm not privy to details, and the stories contradict each other, but what it boils down to is this:  A civilian was given a weapon and sent (or allowed to go) into what was essentially a battle.  The weapon was not anything a civilian would have ever used outside of a gun range.  Add the youth of said civilian to the mix.  Frankly, it's a miracle more people were not killed.

Society tells us that anyone even a day under the age of 18 is not capable of informed consent.  Any adult who gives a minor a beer, a cigarette, or an orgasm is breaking the law.  The news media and the general public will opine at length about how the adult victimized the child.  

Kyle Rittenhouse was 17 years old.  He is neither hero nor villain.  Kyle is a victim, a pawn played by polarized talking heads.  Legally speaking, as a child, he was not capable of making the choices he made.  His adults let him, perhaps even encouraged him to, go into danger.  

Those adults should be put to trial.  I believe the legal terms are "contributing to the delinquency of a minor" and "child endangerment".  Likely, there are others in the book we should be throwing at them.   If Kyle was not capable of  consent where beer or tobacco or sex is concerned, he absolutely was not capable of knowing what the was getting into that night. 

If Kyle was capable, we need to take a long hard look at how we, as a society, view teenagers. 

Costumes

 Lots of fuss this time of year, every year, about insensitive costumes and stereotypes.  I don't really take offense at stereotyped costuming because I understand that it's all in fun and no one with more than 5 brain cells believes them.  However,  I thought I'd toss out a few work-arounds just in case.  

The witch, for example, goes back to earth religions (most obviously Wicca) and therefore could be seen as insensitive to modern adherents of those faiths.  If you want to be a witch for Halloween, yet still be thoughtful of your witchy friends and neighbors, consider choosing a specific witch from pop culture.  Wicked Witch of the West and Witchypoo even have the whole pointy-hat thing going on.  Variations could be a more colorful or modern take like one of the Halliwell sisters or a Hogwarts professor.   Mix up the tropes - maybe the Neutral Witch of the South? 

The cultures native to North America seem to take a beating every fall.  Often costumes include things that, in the real world, are sacred.  Those beautiful feathered headdresses are earned, usually through combat or wise leadership.  Would it be acceptable for me to wear a Medal of Honor as part of a costume?  If you go the buckskin-and-braids route, you're playing with the stereotype.  You can mix it up there - be a "mountain man" or even a "caveman".   Or go specific again.  Little Suzie wants to be an "Indian Princess" for Halloween, go Disney.  Pocahontas in reality had very little in common with the cartoon, and you can make that a teaching moment if you want.  For a real teaching moment, get historical.  Buckskin-and-braids-and baby = Sacagawea. 

The classic hobo, a staple of poor kids and dummies who wait til the last minute, is said to mock the homeless. You can easily turn the hobo into a scarecrow if that concerns you.  

I see stereotyped ethnicities trick-or-treating every year.  I have family and friends who I could claim these people are mocking.  I see it as playful teasing among friends.  I'm a hillbilly/redneck, a mental patient, a single woman over 40, and probably other "costumes" that I can't think of at the moment.  

Some costumes are more problematic than others, obviously.  Usually based on a negative stereotype.  Usually worn by the politically polarized or satirists.  Sometimes just heart breaking (Anne Frank).  Those I advise against across the board.  But let's be honest - almost every costume out there might be offensive to someone.  I suggest we all, on both sides of the issue, be more sensitive to others.  

Sex, Gender, and Shut Up

 Had two different conversations recently that bear on the sex/gender issue.  Now, to review - when I say sex I mean biology or the reproductive act.  When I say gender, I refer to society's notions of how we should look or behave because of our biology.  I'm also going to touch on sexuality, but just a bit. 

The first conversation was with a male teenager.  He's slender and has shoulder-length hair.  Someone tried to shame him by telling him he looks "like a girl from the back".  I say tried to, because the young man really doesn't care!  The incident actually bothers me more than it did him.  Why does it matter to anyone if he looks "like a girl from the back"?  Why would anyone be ashamed of this, as he was expected to be?   The only explanation I can come up with is Toxic Masculinity - one of the media's current hobbyhorses. Long hair on a boy threatened this person's personal image of himself.  Something the media likes to ignore, though, is that Toxic Femininity is also a thing.  So is Toxic Maturity, but I digress.  

Humans of both sexes are from birth (and even before that with ultrasounds) to conform to Gender Roles.  If we don't, we are generally mocked if not outright shunned.  Especially males.  A female child can be a tomboy, after all.  But for purposes of this particular rant, I'm going to be discussing adults or those approaching adulthood.  

My mother used to tell stories beginning with "When I was a little boy..."  not because she was actually male, but because she was commiserating with a male child.  She wanted to get that pesky division out of the way, because the story related to children of both sexes.  She was a female - but never a GIRL.  I have childhood photos of her, and she's wearing a dress (it was the 1940s) but that's where it ended. I probably have peers who thought she was a lesbian.  Yo momma wears combat boots wasn't playing the dozens for me, it was just the truth.  I have no memory of her ever wearing a dress.  A child walked up to her in a store and said "Excuse me, sir..."  She thought that was funny. 

Imagine catcalling a hot chick in an amusement park and my brother, with a full beard and mustache, answers you.  Again, it was funny.  If he reads this, he will laugh heartily at the memory.  The only gender roles we were expected to follow applied to chores, and I strongly suspect that was a holdover from when my parents were married.  

I tell these two stories to show that I've always had a very clear division in my head between Sex and Gender.  And you thought I was digressing again, didn't you?  

The second conversation was with a gay male couple.  These men have two children.  The children have lots of female role models despite the fact that they don't have a mommy.  Even if they didn't, I think they'll grow up just fine.  What is a woman going to teach them that a man or a book can't?

Anyone out there who thinks a parent's genitalia keeps them from parenting, shut up.  My momma wore combat boots and that was not one of the things she got wrong, so shut up.  If you cat-called some hippie dude and are now having an existential crisis, that's your problem, so shut up.  Unless people are hurting somebody, just shut up.  

As always, I invite civil debate of these points.  If you just wanna call names and insult people, shut up. 

Nickel's Worth of Free Advice

 If you are dealing with clinical Depression, or possibly another mental health issue, I want to help if I can.  Following are the things I do to keep Sybrie The Tenth locked up tight in her cage.  Maybe you can do these things, or a form of them, to keep your own demon under control. 

1. Keep the faith.  Whatever it is that you have faith in, remind yourself often.  Commune with whatever higher power you believe in.  For me, that's best done in nature.  I live in a rural town, right on the Ohio River, so there's lots of nature around.  Even just on the property of my little apartment complex, there are several trees I can go sit under.  I run away to the Smokies every chance I get.  

2.  Surround yourself with good people.  This is your support system.  Select people who are good to and for you, not people society tells you to associate with.  If a person makes you doubt your own worth, they are toxic and should be avoided.  

3. Remind yourself to try.  I do this via wall art and even kitchen towels.  "Gather with a grateful heart."  "Enjoy the little things."  My favorites are Ralph Waldo Emerson's Success and the prayer of Saint Francis.  

4. Forgive yourself for failure.  One of the things hanging in my little office corner is a degree from UC.  I failed to learn ahead of time how few jobs in the field there were in my area, so I never actually "used" it, but I earned the dang thing!  I grew my brain in the process, something I recommend everyone do.  (I also failed to become a mother, so I focus on Aunting.)   

5. Accept constructive criticism.  Constructive being the key word.  When one of those good people you've surrounded yourself with suggests you might have a problem (or be a problem), listen to them.  They probably have a point.  My own support system has standing orders to bully me into taking walks with them because I need the exercise!  

6. Develop coping skills.  It doesn't matter what they are, as long as they harm no one (including yourself).  I play with dolls and color in coloring books.  I write fiction I'll never have the courage to submit for publication.  I love to learn so much that one of my nicknames is Research Whore. 

7. Focus on the positive.  This can sometimes be easier to say than do, I admit.  Sometimes you really gotta search, but I promise it's there.  

I'm sure I'm forgetting something.  I'll apply #4 when I remember what it is.  

Aggravations In Illness

 It's quite difficult to have a chronic medical issue, whatever form that issue might take.  In my case, it's   Diabetes and Depression and often I find what helps with one does not help with the other.  Eating carbs, for example.  As a diabetic, starches and sugars are to be limited.  As a Depressive, however, I'm encouraged to eat things that provide my body fuel (starches and sugars).  

Exercise is another bone of contention.  It's good for both conditions and for obesity.  However... the very nature of Depression makes motivation difficult.  The obesity leads to other issues, too.  Carrying around extra weight puts undue stress on the joints.  The hot humid summers of Ohio are hotter and more humid when you're toting the equivalent of a child.  I do have friends and family that "bully" me into walking (and hiking when we go to the mountains).  Weather permitting, I prefer to walk when running errands here in town.  I might take a hour to do what should take minutes, but I get 'er done. 

It's late July in Ohio.  It's not unusual for the "real feel" to creep into triple digits.  My apartment is air conditioned, so this isn't a problem except for one thing.  My allergies don't like AC.  When the dog days of summer hit, I find myself having to chose between heat exhaustion or feeling like my head's an overinflated balloon.  I keep my thermostat at a higher temperature than most find comfortable.  

Managing my medical issues is a balancing act, but most of the time I succeed.  I worry when something is off, like if my sugar's running high or if my demon is growling in her cage for no apparent reason, but that's part of the deal.  I just wish one illness didn't need things that makes another worse!  

Pandemic Positives

A pandemic in a capitalist society inhabited by a social species.  It's a no-win situation, it really is, but we've managed to muddle through.  It's not been without losses and controversy, and there's been reams written about all the negative aspects.  A large part of my arsenal against Depression is positivity, and there have been times this pandemic seems to have exhausted my ammunition, but something happened the other day that has me locked and loaded, at least for a little while. 

I'm not even sure why it touched me as it has.  I have known about and even gone to local food pantries when I needed to.  Almost every church in my area has at least a little closet full of beans and rice for those in need.  One church even brings residents of my building a little meal once a month and a bag of groceries at Christmas.  Really, this event was just an extension of that.

A loud knock on my door Saturday morning.  A gleeful command to come downstairs and get my free food.  I didn't need anything, but I've never been known to turn away someone who is trying to help me out, so I go.  These people brought me two big boxes of food, some frozen meat, and a ten pound bag of potatoes!  All I had to do was help tote the boxes to my kitchen.  

I did go back to the truck since I'm one of the spryer residents, but I think there were a dozen people out there.  So I got the heck out of their way.  Maybe it was the fact that they took the time to load up a truck and deliver the stuff.  Maybe it was the sheer amount.  Maybe it was the big smiles and laughter that came with the food.  

As Mr. Rogers says, look for the helpers.  The helpers are always there.  Even in a disaster.  I thank these helpers that Saturday.  They filled my pantry, my belly, and (best of all) my heart.  We're getting through this thing because of people like them. 

Who Are We To Judge?

Humans judge.  It's just something we do, and I accept that fact.  Maybe it's even part of our evolved instincts.  I'm not up on my soap box today about normal day-to-day judging.  I'm here to clarify a few things about The Pearly Gates.  

Prince Phillip died the same day as rapper DMX.  Actress Kerry Washington said something on her social media about the two of them meeting at the Pearly Gates and caught (no pun intended) Holy Hell for it.  Apparently, Phillip would not be there because he was a racist.  DMX would be there because he was a Good Christian.  

RANT 1: 

Even when I was a Good Little Christian Girl, I did not believe it was my place to decide who was and wasn't going to Heaven.  I believed that was God's job.  I believed that if you sinned, it was between you and God to sort out.  So... a mighty presumption on the part of all these people.   

DMX had more than a dozen children, only four of which were born to his wife.  That makes him a fornicator and possibly an adulterer.  Adultery is one of the Top Ten Sins.  Fornication is mentioned often in The Bible as a sin.  We could also talk about his addiction issues vs that whole body-as-a-temple thing, but I'm not going to attack a fellow mental health patient.  

Phillip was a racist, at least by modern standards.  There's no denying that. Many Biblical passages have been interpreted to support the notion of racism.  The first that comes to mind is the Curse Of Ham.  Many sects of Christianity used Ham's Curse to justify slavery and opposition to racial intermarriage.  By that thinking, Phillip's bigger sin would have been welcoming his grandson's mixed-race bride into the family (as she has gone on record he did). 

But as I said, that's between them and God.  Not my call. 

RANT TWO:

The Pearly Gates are often seen in popular culture as a death metaphor.  One of my favorite comics is three clerics, one from each major world religion, standing before a pagan goddess at the Pearly Gates.  It makes me giggle every time. 

Popular culture tells us that the dead stand before St Peter (not God) at the Pearly Gates.  It makes sense that Phillip and DMX would meet there.  Them meeting there just means they died about the same time.  It doesn't mean that either one is going to get wings. Peter still has to check the list, like a bouncer at an exclusive nightclub.  Peter.  Not you, not me, not even God. 

RANT THREE:  

Both these men had faults.  They were human beings, after all.  Both these men leave families who should be allowed to grieve without the entire world sitting in judgement.  

We Don't Matter

The Social Security Administration and Internal Revenue Service are pointing fingers at each other.  Neither is willing to admit blame.  Americans who worked to the best of their abilities, who earned the benefits of the SSA, are expected to wait patiently for something everyone around them has already gotten.  Something pretty much everyone agrees we need.  

The third stimulus check.   

Speaking for myself, this money is not even the point.  Had they said SSDI recipients don't qualify, I would have been okay.  I keep a careful budget and I've had no major unexpected expenses.  But they did tell me I was getting it, that I mattered, that I was important enough to be included.  So I am waiting.  We are waiting.

Whether it was an accident, or malice, we are still waiting.  We matter less to those in power than their own reputations.  They've made it quite clear.  They'd rather sully the names of those they're supposed to be working with than see to it we get that money.   We've been told "soon".  We've been told "possibly by the end of March".  We have not been told anything with certainty and we've certainly gotten no apology. 

Again, I am speaking only for myself.  My demon (Depression with a dash of anxiety and a side of paranoia) has been and remains quite vocal about how little I matter to the world.  Reminding myself of those I do matter to - friends and family - only sets me to wondering if they are being dragged down by loving me.  If they matter less because of me.  

In short, this situation makes me fear a major depressive episode is coming.  I manage my life using tools learned in years of therapy and my own research into the matter.  What I know is often quite different from what I feel.  I know I matter.  But lately I'm not feeling it.  Every day, when I check my balance and then the news, I am reminded that no one in Washington cares about some crazy broad in Ohio who feels betrayed.  They care about themselves, their reputations, their own bank balances.  I don't matter to them. 

Right now, my home is in need of a good cleaning and I could use a bath.  I'm forcing myself to get out of bed each morning.  I haven't the emotional energy to do more than that.  I'm hoping that writing this, that sharing my struggles, will remind me that I'm not alone.  There's a whole world out there of people who don't matter to the politicians.  

The politicians would also be well served to remember us.  We are old or crippled or both, but we are not and never were useless.  We matter.  We vote.  I can't speak for all of us, but I have made a note of exactly who took action for my benefit, and I will remember it come election day.  If these people were appointed, I'll remember who appointed them.  And if they luck out and I drop dead before then, those people I do matter to... will remember.  

 

The Amazing Insight of the General Public

 I am disgusted.  Why do people insist upon assuming the worst?  And proclaiming it as fact without validation?

Man in a car accident?  "He was drunk" "He was stoned" "He was speeding" "He was getting a hand job while driving" "His ex tampered with the car" "Someone forced him off the road" This is all presented as fact.  As if the entire population was in the car or had helped the attempted murderer. 

Little girl found wandering a rural road?  Parents are stoned, drunk, dead of an overdose... then the truth comes out.  After a long road trip to visit relatives, the adults slept in.  Little girl wakes up, decides to explore the new place, and gets lost in Aunt Susie's neighborhood.  Everyone with any experience with youngsters knows it's possible, there are police reports, but no.  Those parents were negligent at best. 

Woman dies suddenly.  She overdosed.  She was beaten to death by her spouse.  She killed herself because (insert melodramatic and negative reason).  Never mind that people die every day of unknown health issues or in accidents... no, we must jump to the worst possible cause and proclaim it as fact. 

Yes, we as humans are going to gossip.  We're going to speculate.  We even have a real need to assign blame.  But if I'm found dead tomorrow, no one is going to know it was suicide.  (It's a reasonable assumption, given my history, but that's beside my point.)  No one is going to know one of my exes came creeping out of my past and offed me.  No one is going to know I overdosed.  Not until more facts come along, anyway.  

Protests and Riots

I already wrote a blog about the different definitions of those terms. It seems even the mass media doesn't make the distinction any more, preferring to define them by motivations instead of behavior. To sum up, protests don't do any real harm. They may annoy you, but they don't actually hurt you.  Riots hurt people, physically and financially. 

 

Any crowd can turn it into a riot. It's happened at rock concerts and after major sporting events. One guy throws a beer can, some others think that looks like a good idea, and it grows from there. And that's a spontaneous event. 

 

It's more likely during a protest.  Protestors are already angry. That's why they're protesting.  Because it's more likely, the police might show up in full riot gear. The protestors see that and are insulted. They might even feel the urge to do what they feel they're being accused of.  So what happens when the first punch is thrown or window broken? 

 

There's been talk, and not entirely without basis, that the riots of 2020 were caused by outside agitators.  They joined a BLM protest and deliberately incited it.  Deliberately. This was a BLM protest, but a disproportionate number of those arrested was white. Many of them were found to be sympathetic to causes that directly oppose BLM. 

 

The bricks thrown by rioters were already there, usually at construction sites.  There's not much weight to stories of them being shipped in by the opposing political party of the one telling the tale.  There's very little weight to the notion of the conspiracy rising to those levels.  I have no doubt, however, that the riots were the result of someone's psychological manipulation of the crowd. 

 

But who?  Many people are pointing their fingers at “Antifa”.  To the best of my knowledge, Antifa is a loosely affiliated group who collectively stands against fascism. Their definition of fascism is unclear, but their methods… well, let’s just say rioting is within their skill set.  If these riots are not the work of Antifa, they’re the work of someone similar.

 

It might even be as simple as “Hey, let’s go down to that protest and start some crap. It’ll make them look bad.”  It could even be “Cool, a riot! Let’s go break stuff and steal something!”  I can find no reason to believe these riots are anything but a symptom of America’s larger problem.

 

The Great Trump Divide. I’m not blaming any of this on the man himself, at least not directly.  Had Clinton won in 2016, I’d be calling it the Great Clinton Divide. I believe the Russian Meddling in the 2016 election was not to help either specific candidate. They have profited for decades from the Divided States of America, and saw us uniting behind maverick politicians like Bernie Sanders and Gary Johnson. So they stepped in. Before that election, we were a protest. They turned us into a riot.

 

And we let them.  We’re continuing to let them. Shame on us.