Unnatural Forces

When folks should shut up

2011-11-16T11:18:00.000-05:00

I just read Thers' post here, and it was spot-on, and I started writing a comment, but then it got too long. So now my comment is here.

I had the great privilege to spend this past weekend with OWS just before it was raided. And I don't usually wax poetic about touchy-feely stuff, nor can I join a drumming circle.

But what amazes me is how people (academics, bloggers, pundits, people who have never been to an Occupy encampment) erase one of the most important messages of OWS: that every single individual is valuable, and deserves to be treated humanely. They talk about the Movement and miss that at that camp, everyone tried in their way to take the best care they could of each other. That is a tragic thing to lose.

There were problems. There were outsiders who just wanted a piece of the thing, and like any movement, people bring their shit with them. But people also tried to talk and listen and be kind and good to each other. They did this because you cannot change the world without it - large-scale justice cannot be achieved without justice amongst each other, between friends, fellow activists, tent-neighbors, lifemates. And this is hard and it takes patience and empathy and time and all your fucking energy sometimes. You can't do it from your office chair. It's messy and you have to get down in the dirt. So while there was a Movement, yes, to miss the movement in the park itself, between the people, is to miss something important.

It made people feel powerful, some said for the first time in their lives. Scary stuff, to the 1%. Revolutionary, even.

So the bloggers and academics and pundits mouthing off about this in terms of what is best for policy and affecting legislation and blah blah blah are really just being lazy. They want the Occupy movement to do things they can write about from their office chairs and desks and pontificate about, so they don't have to get up.

Photos from Occupy DC / Stop the Machine, Oct. 6, 2011

2011-10-06T15:27:00.001-04:00

Dick Gregory spoke, and of course it was awesome:

I gave this woman a hug before leaving. Everyone was just taking her picture. I thought she should get some love back.

We are the 99%

2011-10-01T09:45:00.000-04:00

Go. Read. Add yours.

I think I'm in love!

2011-09-24T19:22:00.003-04:00

Swoon.

Hands off, ladies, he's mine.

Update: The original post was taken down. Dunno why. This is what google cache is for. YOU'RE WELCOME, LADIES.

Update Update: So apparently, this guy thinks he can sue if you copy and paste his little okcupid screed on a your site and then mock it. See shenanigans here. And all I can say is: dude, BRING IT. SUE. It would give me funny shit to blog about for MONTHS.

Message: “Date and mate?”
Profile:
My Self-Summary
I’d love to date you, really, I would. But first, I just gotta get somethin off my chest:

Honestly, im kinda done writing any of you girls. I’m also not paying for your night out, ur free ride, ur meet and greet, cuz its $$$ in a fire baby…poof! If anyone should pay, its probably you. Oh gasp, did a guy just really come out and say that? oh man, he must be cheap and an asshole…no ladies, thats called “entitlementtttttttttt……… . . !!!”. Chivalry is nice, Im all for it, when I actually know you. Not dropping 5+bucks a date on a totally random stranger(you) that is either completely psycho, or is about to have a mental breakdown cuz your x boyfriend just dumped you for a younger, thinner, and far nicer less entitled girl that he has been hooking up with for the past two months!

-breathe-

ok! Things Im also sick of reading about: grammar nazi’s, if ur a grammar nazi, ur not cool enough to hang with me. for real, Im most likely 1000% the writer you will ever be, have impeccable grammar when i want to and more than likely have 10x the education you could ever imagine…so there. I treat this like a text message, not a love letter.

Oh and corporate girls, blah, ur not nearly as business savvy as you think, buy a power suit, and keep climbing that ladder…im the guy on top of it greasing the pole and pushing u down. zzzzoooooom! have a nice ride.

Also, girls, since im on a role tonight, I cant stand the god damn red sox and fairweather surburbanite fans that came out of the trees in 2003/2004 left in 2005 then suddenly arrived again in 2007, cuz it was quasi cool again for 2 months, man get real. seriously take off the pink cap, wear a bruins shirt if u must, and put down the vodka cran, more than likely you’ve already had far too many.

Furthermore, you are far less attractive than you think you are and what guys in new england give you credit for. cold weather, desperation and alcohol makes us see things that arent there, k? If you want to know what a beautiful woman looks like move to Italy, Spain, Southern France or Eastern Europe and take lots of notes.

lets see what else, no a girl hasnt screwed me over, and no im not bitter, and yes you do look fat in that skirt, hmmmm thats about it for now.

So if you
1.are sane
2. take ur pills if ur not sane
3. arent prissy, think ur entitled, or just loooveee the red soxxx
OMG! like for real LOL oh jacoby he’s soooo cute. (vomit)
4. you are actually classy, genuine, ridiculously good looking, or at the very least oddly attractive, sincere, compassionate, funny, and just happen to have a great rack and an ass that they rap about, feel free to write me!!! Id love to hear from you!

Im actually really nice and sweet. I know i sound like a dick, guilty as charged, but im also very nice, this rare combination makes me a bit of an ass. and i know u like ass. Im looking forward to the love/hate mail! Which, btw Ive only received one hate mail, but she’ll do on a slow night so I favorited her, and she flipped, but i think there is a chance, def a combo pack with that one, psycho and hurt, i best hide my light switch. chop.

check that, just got another hater, told me to “die in a ditch”…sorry baby, im getting cremated, graveyards are such a waste of good real estate. she must be the type i just wrote about…i kinda feel bad though, she has some sort of snookie complex…unlike most fakers, I was actually born there! proof: most babies kicked in the womb before they were born. I fist pumped.

Listen, im just trying to speak the truth…Most likely we are not meant to be, a long term entity, and that is the key, or we’d be… at fucking e.harmony!!!…..So lets skip the date and lets fuckin mate! nothing wrong with some Tiger style….at least for a little awhile…tie me up! and tickle my toes, in your bed i do propose…so let us hang!and let us bang!….my greatest asset is my 12” wang!
What I’m doing with my life
1.probably you. maybe ur best friend too.
2. eh, throw ur twin sister in, might as well.
3. saving kittens out of trees.
4.Working out, I have the body of a Greek God, no really i do.
5. Writing random rants that make me laugh
6. Telling it how it is on this site
7. knitting, i love to knit.
8. Mourning GIZMO, RIP fluffyface, 15 more weeks of mourning.
9. BEING THE MAN
10. Manning the be
11. kinky sex (wanna be next?)
12. running my pay per site. cam-boy-sausagefest.com

p.s. when we are DO-ING IT, u bad, nasty thang you…please refer to me at all times as Captain Kink. Ay! Ay! Captain Kink! and yes you will have to dress the part with me…think captain america, but with a kickass K
I’m really good at
SEX WITH MY EX hahahah jk…and writing! (this gun’s for hire, just do urself a favor and never hand me a style guide) hmmm what else…. im really good at pissing off corporate girls and red sox fans, turning you on, killing shit (hahaha jk), jumping jacks, cursive, eating, atari, candyland, the color blue, love making, making love, tiger style.

oh and kissing. Ever heard of an Australian kiss? no? really? ok, well its like a french kiss, but down under.
The first things people usually notice about me
my ghetto booty. (u better thank my momma!)

Damn, Im good looking.

12 inch penis. just kidding its only 11.75 inch. but im a growing boy so give me some time. Plus, I hear its like ears…the older you get the bigger it grows. Or is that the hotter you are the bigger it grows. i dunno give me a test drive we’ll see what happens.

I’m really not an asshole or a dick, cuz im sweet, so I guess that makes me a sweet dick or a sweet ass. literally, figuratively, u decide.

Im kinkier than a Rihanna sex tape.

that im hung like a horse…… SEAHORSE!

no jk….im really hung like a bull…………GERBIL!

ha that was just a joke…im actually hung like a light switch.

im far nicer and a bit more serious/less nutty than my profile projects, and no i dont care if you dont think its going to get me any girls, because more than likely ur the type of girl i just ranted about and therefore I would never give the time of day to! but really, im very sweet.

And i didnt give an accurate age…. im not over 30, but i dont give out any details to ppl i dont know (thats you creeper!).

I prob dont have time to write you, if u get one dont feel lucky I was probably just bored. however, i do try to respond to everyone, and im usually kinda nice.

oh im not “over 6ft” sorry gals, not everyone can be perfect prince charming, p.s. prince charming was a jerk, yup watch the first 45min, poor cinderalla. im not perfect, and i know ur not, double neg = positive, so lets date baby! any geeks out there? confirm that for me, the lassssttt thing i want is to look like an idiot on this. on a serious note, whats the deal with u girls and height..guys dont give a damn…the only height requirement y’all should have is the height inside my pants.

Speaking of math, anyone take the GRE/GMAT? what a joke. shim sham industry at its finest. More money in the fire. Worse than money in the fire girls, its time in the fire. So…
1. First, I have to pay for you and
2. Second, I have to pay for you so u can waste 3hrs of my life.

So if u just didnt get that analogy here it is….GMAT is to women as gun is to head. bingo! u get a perfect score, u high achiever you.

Hmmm, the going rate for this badboy is 50/hr. you do the math!!! ok, i will do it for you because i know 20% of you are thinking…’I dont gettt itttt’. If I go on 2 dates a week (shocking he must be a player, no…its dating ladies get over it!) thats 6 hrs of my time at 50 and 150.00 of my soft earned cash buying tasteless beers for 5 each! What are we at 450/week? 1800/mo? you want to impress a guy? take him out, cuz baby, there are a zillion of u on this site, and only 1 of me. its called pick of the litter. For the 2% out there that ‘stilll dont get ittt’, im so so sorry, but we just arent meant to be.

this girl asked me one day, ‘hey xyz have you ever paid for sex?’
Me: “no, but i sure have paid for a lot of dinners!” Zinnnggg!

Im really good at faking it in bed…goes something like “oh, oh yeah, oh yeah thats the spot, keep going, oh jeezus oh god oH OH OHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHH…deeper…harder!harder! harder harder!!!!!!! wait, too hard, way too hard, ok stop, ok no really….. ohhhhhhhhh….. AHHH!!!! AH BLAHHHAHAAHAHAHA AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!….awwwwwwwe. ok, sleepy time.”

Turnover……

“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”

but dont worry, im no one minute man, TIGER STYLE baby… its a guarantee….. u’ll be going to work in a wheelchair.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
all of them! actually, i dont read…unless there is big glossy pics…then i skim through.

anything with keanu. boy so fine.

“I saw a gay porno once. I didnt know it until half way in. the girls never came! THE GIRLS NEVER CAME! oh my god! I am freaking out!!!!”
The six things I could never do without
online dating rants
pizza, beer, nutella
europe
my 85 camaro thats right bitchezzzz we ride in style!
people with a pulse
art/design/writing
not conforming
THE HOFF
Tiger Style!!!!!
Hot Bitchezzzzz
BEING THE MAN!
my wee-man, he is my He-Man
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Sex. Any guy that writes anything different is a liar. and i know u dont want anything to do with a liar. sex with you, sex with your friend, sex with you and your friend, it is the one true love, the one constant, the one desire that makes us deal with your constant dribble and monthly if not weekly hormonal hallucinations.

But dont worry, this cat isnt judgmental at all….. tall, short, black, white, fat, thin, i dont giv a… as long as u got a pretty face and can put it in the right place thats all the matters to me. besides, big girls need love too.

oh and i always practice safe sex…so i usually double bag it, one bag over ur head and another over mine… just in case urs falls off! (ohhh no he didnnttttt! ‘snap snap snap’… oh yes i did! ‘snap’)……jk girls, im wayyyy more kinky than that!

Oh and I have a ton of SEX too…. with myself that is. lend me a hand? but seriously, i dont have any std’s….that i know of. there was that one week romp in amsterdam high as a kite, found myself in a small room with this girl, she had a collar around her neck and just refused to take it off, religious reasons i think….said her name was Apple or Addam or sumthin, Maddam Addam? like i gave ah…when i woke i hadnt a clue what the fuck happened or where the fuck i was…and she just looked at me smiling…. reaaaal stalker like. Thanks Absinthe! or was it ecstasy that time?……..hmmmmmmmm.

but dont worry baby momma, Im not into one night stands. 2 nights minimum. Or night/morning that counts as long as u make me breakfast.

Speaking of morning, yeah its a must….. I mean, I wake up with a totem pole the size of a redwood ya know? gotta help my little fella out…my one eyed snake, man he needs to go back in his cave…. my italian stallion giddy down big boy! giddy down! my piece, my rod, my little unit, my junk(dont touch my junk!)…ahhhh my light switch. be gentle ok, its early…and hurry up on that breakfast!

P.S. me sleeping with you on the 1st date doesnt make u the village bike, me paying for ur dinner on the 1st date then sleeping with does this. So please dont make me make u like Madam Addam that sexy bitch she was….and throw me a dime, its fair, since I am the dessert.

but dont worry, i always have a safe word if it gets too intense…its usually sumthin like ‘doitagain’ or ‘metwa bin du wah tiki likki duwahhh’ but u gotta say it correctly or it just gets more intense.

tiger style…bite nibble claw MEEEooowwwww!
On a typical Friday night I am
running my pay per site. cam-boy-sausagefest.com

thinking of u…. thinking of me. ( i just got sick in my mouth)

i dont know i dont care doing everything doing nuthing….ppl that live for the wknd blah….such a waste of a week.

oh my golden rule on this site: the hotter the girl the more issues and baggage you have. (however, nuts are usually crazy in the bag, bonus! But, i dont want to wake up with my seahorse gone astray)….. the only other option if ur a smoking hot smokeshow is that ur just a dude with a fake profile creeping on my pics. creeper!!! (but hey big boy, kinda handsome arent I, wink, wink ;)

A girl last week asked me if id have a threesome with her and another guy, WTF?! are u on drugs?! Well, since its baseball season i will put it the nicest way i can….sorry baby, I dont bat for the yankees. I play for the home team. No switch hitter in Best Guy. I bat for Boston.

I tried writing a nice guy profile, I really did, but I got sea sick while reading it. But, to prove Im not just any jerk from the streets of southie I have included a couple poems from my previous profile. I had to kink them up a bit, cuz I cant have my good name on the crap I originally wrote. Enjoy!

‘An Ode To The Woman’

You are man and you are woo
you are WooMan and I heart you.

Like a jungle flower in the early dawn
a summer breeze on virgin lawn.

you are temptress and you are muse…
and still my love, tis thee I choose.

But, fear not my temptress muse!
your inner vixen will abuse!

Tie me tightly to your soul!
(or to the nearest bedpost pole.)

whip me gently with perfumed socks!
and caress my mother earth-toned locks!

Dearest wooman,
I need you.

Take me, take me….
home with you.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
ur not that good looking…

My penis is a genuine genius, like a magic wand, a disco stick, a kinky casanova, a cute culprit of casual encounter, a kickass kock, a chicken for sum finga lickin, a matador in heat, a wooly mamouth without its coat, a jolly giant, a mushroom cloud, a rockin rock hard rod, a hotdog for your bun (hold the ketchup hun), a weapon of mass destruction, seduction, and sexual corruption….well, its quite nice id say.

Im like Clooney, the older Best Guy gets the better looking he becomes.

I didnt tell the full truth on my profile, honestly i held a lot back…think of it this way, you being you, enjoy wearing makeup, is that the full truth??? im all for it, helps my eyes out, but when we wake up next to each other in the sack, (which we will), baby i dont want that heart attack.

I am incredibly good in the bag, but Im not a whore. Unless of course you buy me dinner and drinks then I will go home with you because by that point you’ve earned it and Im kinda drunk, uve gotten 20% better looking, cuz im 3 sheets to the wind, and alas, I want to get laid just as much as you, I just admit it instead of playing some bs mind game. And I may or may not talk to you afterward, depends on what else you want to buy me.

oh and when a guy buys u dinner dont fake pay pocket book pickup, its as cliche as cliche, ok? just be a good girl, and pay for tip or at least offer it, that’s all we ask.

This is what it comes down to, girls like dicks, literally, figuratively whatever, but she wants the dick to be a nice guy, but he is a dick, and he cant be, oh he can fake it alright, but he is just a dick, so you just get hurt…the other side of the glass is lotsa girls wont date a really nice guy, cuz he’s not dick enough or hot enough, rich enough, or whatever enough, but he cant be a dick, because he is a nice guy, he can fake being a dick, but at the end of the day and at the beginning, he is “just” a nice guy and you leave him in the dirt. Oh, u feel bad about it alright, but ur less nice, more judgmental, and a bit more fake than ud like believe. hey no worries ladies, ignorance is bliss, as long as ur happy right?

conclusion: basically you dont know what you want and probably not worth our time, unless of course its on ur dime. so giddy up cowgirl and SHOW ME THE MONEYYYY!!!!!! I’ll even fake take out my wallet when the check arrives. no really, i will.
I’m looking for

Girls who like guys
Ages 20-39
Near me
Who are single
For new friends

You should message me if
you wanna get your kink on

If you think u might like me…. like, like-like me.

when u put “curvy” on ur profile, u mean to say u look like kimmy k., not Happy the Beached Whale. but i love Happy, he is so friendly and happy… but whatever i dont really care, just let me know if i should bring the Harpoon….(beer that is).

You’re not a dude creeping on my pics…creeper!!!!

You want to date a guy that is a bit of an ass but has a pulse a ton of character and is kinda decent looking borderline wicked hot and actually quite charming and sweet…instead of choosing to date some dude, with no wit, and really not that good looking, but omg he is so nice…i feel bad, i just dont want to hurt him, oh i have an idea, he took me out for a great date and dropped a ton of money on me, so instead of womanning up and telling him thanks but no thanks on the phone and not some weak ass text message, i think i will just let him hang and not say anything. be a doll, get some balls, and cut the cord the right way, k? I love nice people, y’all should treat them better.

uve realized that im a gentleman in the streets and an animal in the sheets! TIGER STYLEEE!!!!! bite, nibble, growl, claw, pull, slap, push, cuddle, lick, thats TIGER STYLE baby! yes, i have better pics to see if im hot or not, but just trust my profile for now, deal? but, who the heck cares what i look like with the lights off, TIGERRR STYLE BABY!!!! meowwwwwwww.

oh an NO i will not facebook friend you without meeting you, even then probably not. you want the keys to my kingdom? buy me dinner, bang me silly, put a 20 in my pocket and call a cab. is that too much to ask?

One girl wrote thinking I am charlie sheen, r u serious????Im not charlie sheen im 10x charlie sheen, wayyyy more messed up…haha, he ranted coked up out of his mind, i rant sober as a saint.

So feel free to ask me out. And be sure to hit the ATM pregame, you’re gunna need it. If you are like eff this cheap asshole. 1, im not an asshole a dick or a dbag, im an ass or a sweet dick, and i know u like sweet dick, so, seriously save the drama for some rich loser that will suck the life out of you, but hey at least u got a fancy dinner, borrring zzzzz…..Besides, chivalry died with the woman’s rights movement, which of course im all for: equal pay for equal play. thanks for reading, and please note that if u can take anything from this profile, know that this is how it feels to have to read yours (minus the humor, wit, and anything of substance), so be a doll and keep it short n sweet.

And finally ladies i leave u with this music video:
(copy paste into google and u will see its not a virus)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Looking forward to sleeping with you!

love,

BEST GUY
——
If u made it this far, then cheers to you. 50% fact and 50% fiction, Best Guy is 100% awesome. Complimented with good looks, wit, humor and charm, well, he’s quite the catch id say. thanks in advance. you’re welcome.

And Best Guy would love to buy u a drink sometime…that is, as long as u get round two, three, four and five, but don’t worry momma, i wont go past 5 drinks…having my limp bizket stiffer than steel is my #1 sex appeal. And depending how hot you are, I will def cover the tip, 5% no less.

P.S. I JUST HAD SEXXXXX!!!!!

P.S.S. (with myself)

P.S.S.S.(copyright 2011 OMG!)

Alright, I have had it.

2011-09-15T13:35:00.000-04:00

Who wants to be my roommate and find somewhere in DC/NoVa to live? Qualifications: you must not hate my cats, you must not be batshit, and you must not be any of my current roommates, who currently are complaining about how I post the bills, but who are also refusing to move the utilities into their names.

Also, they are all like 23 and one of them starts her group emails with, "Hey girls!" No.

Like finding water in the desert

2011-09-14T23:05:00.000-04:00

Faulty equation

2011-09-14T21:23:00.002-04:00

Graduating law school with $200,000 in debt + Taking a barely-scraping-by and frankly insulting salary from said law school as a fellow to continue doing international human rights litigation = Not being able to afford therapy for the near-crippling anxiety and PTSD that comes with being raped and assaulted, even WITH the university health care.

It's the gays' fault. Or maybe it was the Muslims. Nah, it was probably the undocumented workers. I totally blame them.

Intentions

2011-07-19T18:23:00.000-04:00

I keep meaning to get back to this blog, or at least write a post explaining why I don't get back to this blog, but I am currently studying for the bar.

The cats are, as in all things, super helpful.

Fighting on the side of the angels. Again.

2011-06-08T07:58:00.000-04:00

Fingers crossed, kids.

Found something I'd written about my rapist quite by accident tonight.

2011-04-13T00:43:00.000-04:00

Seems like a good thing to let go.

We used to sit on my porch and drink tea. I drank Darjeeling, with milk and sugar. He would always have green tea with enough sugar in it to make me cringe, more sugar than you could believe would really dissolve in that mug of hot water – surely there was a sugar saturation peak? We would sit on the porch and make up ridiculous schemes of becoming rich and famous by being ridiculous – by fooling people, by just ACTING rich and famous, by scamming the world into giving us money. We would challenge each other, try to outdo each other, work off as each other to try to be as outrageous, improbable, and hilarious as possible. We would laugh and laugh, imagining pulling a fast one on the world, rolling in dough, and thus granting us freedom, allowing us to be magic, together, forever. Like we could ever escape.

My mental illness, it made me grip tighter, become controlling, start disciplining myself. He never did this – he let it all rout him, and I envied him. The drugs were quieting and calming, no matter how violent he got.

I cannot remember how to loosen my muscles, relax my grip, the nerves on constant firing, telling my muscles to hold on even tighter.

The first time I kissed him, I trembled in fear. What I was feeling could destroy me, and I knew then. He draped his body over mine, light as a sheet, and he was so clean, so pure, his kisses tasted of water.

Hope and Change

2011-03-31T13:50:00.003-04:00

Ok, let me see if I have this right:

1. The President has sent the CIA to arm the rebels in Libya. Which means CIA agents are also training the rebels on how to use these arms. But the CIA agents are still civilians, wearing no uniform, on the battlefield, taking part in a war which is someone else's internal armed conflict that has no bearing on our own national security. Ergo, our CIA agents are now illegal belligerants/unlawful combatants/NOT COOL.

2. Arming the rebels violates the arms embargo the UN Council imposed.

3. We have a stellar history of the CIA arming folks. Worked out for us last time!

4. We have kinda determined that the rebels in Libya have been/are terrorists, maybe? We have just given material support to terrorists? Our government essentially just violated its own laws. We are well beyond Humanitarian Law Project here.

5. We didn't wait for/depend on the UN Security Council resolution to go do this CIA secret stuff, so we also violated international laws on the legal right to use force.

6. Once we arm the rebels, they're not civilians anymore, so we aren't actually charged with protecting them under the Security Council resolution. Thus . . . we have just made our own mandate obsolete?

7. Funny how this CIA plan didn't come up in Obama's speech the other night, although I guess it's not an authentic use of American force unless our president is fucking shady about it.

8. Domestically, this was an illegal act - the War Powers Resolution and the Constition, not ambiguous on these points.

9. I appreciate how this started out originally as a no-fly zone but in like less than 24 hours we started shooting at things on the ground, because the tanks got in the way of our planes, I guess?

10. When something genocidal breaks out in Cote d'Ivoire, everyone's gonna look AWESOME.

Fuck. Us.

2011-02-04T13:03:00.000-05:00

The petition for rehearing en banc for Kiobel in the Second Circuit just got denied.

Shorter Chief Justice Jacobs, on denying the rehearing:

Corporations are too awesome to be held civilly liable for their actions. Because they're important in society! And they're awesome. I love corporations so much, I pretty much conflate them with nations, and talk about comity. I mean, come on people, we know who's REALLY important. Seriously, corporations are awesome. I am now going to incorrectly use the word "imperialism." Now I am going to slip in here that I am pro-death penalty, in a sentence that is entirely out of place. Corporations! The end.

No, really, it is that bad.

I just . . . fuck.

Penguin!

2011-01-16T11:01:00.000-05:00

Hello, lovely Readers!

So, I haven't felt like blogging in a while. I just . . . don't. I can't even get myself to blog about why I don't want to blog. And maybe eventually I will, but for the moment, yeah, no.

Instead, have a penguin!

This little guy comes from Cape Town. If you have not hung out around penguins, I can tell you: penguins, in person, are far cuter and much stinkier than you could ever imagine.

I could have watched them just, you know, penguining around, for like weeks.

That's all I got. Everyone be good, now!

My phone grows artificial intelligence, and now I need some recommendations

2011-01-08T11:05:00.000-05:00

As I emailed a friend the other day:

Here's my totally true but not all that exciting story:

So, last night, I was watching the X-Files on Netflix - I started from the beginning as a distraction during finals last semester, and now I am like 3 episodes or whatever into season 2. And the specific episode I was watching last night was about these people who, because they had ingested this organic compound which heightened their fear responses, were extremely susceptible to all sorts of technology suggesting they go murder people. These TVs and phones and ATMs and everything else with an electronic screen were sending these tailored messages to people to "Kill 'Em All," and as a result all these people in one town were getting dead. At the hands of these random, non-violent people, who just lost their shit as a result of this compound and their fucking watch talking to them.

Anyway, as I am watching this episode, Amouch is being especially cute, having curled up in my lap and smooshing his face into my thigh. So I take a picture. And then my phone FREAKS OUT; it starts pressing ITS OWN BUTTONS (it's a touchpad phone) and pulling up applications and it called some woman I used to date and it tried to add contacts to my "favorites" list and it generally LOST ITS MIND. Or maybe it GAINED ONE, which is WORSE. And it locked me out and wouldn't let me do anything while it was doing whatever it was doing. All on its own. So I took the battery out, and restarted it, and now it won't let me access it at all - it's like a dead piece of metal, because the touchscreen won't work.

And that's my story, about how my phone decided to go berserk as I was watching a show about personal electronic devices going berserk. The end.

Here's my question, folks: does anyone love their phone? And have recommendations? I need to get a phone off-contract, because I may be moving abroad at some point, so while I fucking covet the Motorola Droid 2 Global, and wouldn't even mind an iPhone as they're easy to take abroad, they're prohibitively expensive without a carrier contract. Also, I need a tri-band or quad-band GSM phone to take abroad. Anyone have a love affair with their little electonic device? Is having an Android OS a must, do you think? Do you just love that you ahve a real QWERTY keyboard? Let me know!

A new year, a new grind to put my nose to

2011-01-02T16:16:00.000-05:00

My friends, the break is over. Yup, it is that short for me. I have been working for the past two days. Also, I have done a lot of laundry and spent some time eating chocolate and working on a drawing so it hasn't been all a slog, but still: the semester. It begins tomorrow. And it is my last semester of law school! To which I say "Hallelujah!" but also "Booo :( " because I did not hate law school and there are, like, two classes I reeeeaaaaaaallllly still wish I could take. Such as it is. Also, I should maybe get on that Finding A Job thing.

But anyway, for my final semester, I have done a grand job of scheduling myself almost out of oblivion, but with such good things, I could not help myself. I have my classes, of course - the reading for my corporations class has already been SUPER lefty and critical of what corporations have become, so woooo, I am pleased. Also, I have a law and anthropology class the reading for which spans from Plato's Republic to newspaper articles about French laws banning women from wearing the hijab. YAY, I know (uh, not yay about banning the hijab! about the reading!).

I have an internship with an international human rights body for 20 hours a week. I'll be dividing my time there between working on human rights issues in Haiti post-earthquake (and as of right now, I am going to Haiti in April to report on the human rights situation of people still in the camps) and working on LGBTQI rights in the English-speaking Caribbean (like, this). I am a research assistant for my wonderful professor still, and we have much to do, but we're also going to take a look at how to move towards a customary international norm prohibiting long-term solitary confinement. As this is one of the things I wanted for Christmas, I am thrilled. Also, I am still editor-in-chief of my law journal. And I signed up for another half-marathon in March. SO. I'm going to be deliciously, ridiculously busy.

I'll post here when the muse calls, although so much will be calling for my time, she may have to shout to get heard. Still, that muse: just when I think she has gone away for good, she comes back with a vengeance to bellow into my ear. She is a cheeky one, and I have learned not to make any promises of less or more posting. Because I really haven't the faintest idea.

Happy new years all, and away we go toward all the good things that wait ahead. All my good things will probably have a soundtrack by Junip playing in the background, at least for the next month. You know how you find that perfect album accompaniment to your life sometimes? Yeah, I love that.

New Year

2010-12-31T11:15:00.000-05:00

New Year's messages are always trite and overwrought. There is nothing special about this one specific day in this one specific calendar. I understand the human need to both mark the passage of time and to create at least the illusion of a the chance to start over, have the slate wiped clean, and begin again.

Maybe it's not an illusion. Maybe some people manage it, at least in some ways. I never have.

Lately, I have been having fantasies about a savior. About someone swooping in and saving me, like a superhero, although not a superhero; but movie-like, a someone who would come charging into my life and fix everything, save me from myself, make it all right, and give me a happy ending, at least until the credits rolled, just so the final scene would make your heart yearn desperately. The someone would love me unconditionally, so hard it could make you cry, and they would hold me up when I felt I couldn't stand AND remember to pay all my bills on time so I wouldn't have to juggle the dates in my head, and probably clean the kitty litter, too. These fantasies always tell me that I am exhuasted, or I have lost confidence in myself to tackle everything, or I am depressed. Right now, it's probably the last the two.

But I can say: I have every faith and hope in the new year. I do. It is child-like, maybe, but I don't care. Tonight, I am going to pass the moment into the next year alone. I am going to regather, call all of myself home. I am going to begin to grow strong again. And then I am going to walk into whatever is next, my own champion. I will save myself. You'll see.

It is going to be a beautiful year.

I will see you there.

Ungrateful.

2010-12-28T10:47:00.001-05:00

Apparently, I was not grateful enough to Sady Doyle. There I was, once some little podunk blog (aside: I am still a little podunk blog. I rather like this, but no matter), and she came down from on high to recognize me, and give me readers, and make me something. Let's be real: I was nothing without Sady Doyle's grace. I should know my place.

But yet, I have been so ungrateful: I have disagreed with Sady Doyle on something. And made a joke about a silly argument she made (look: it was a silly argument).   And called the logical reasoning behind said silly argument "UTTER SHIT."

Also, I was upset because I cannot have or hear any discussion about criminal justice without taking race and poverty into account. And I am extremely wary of the state criminal justice machine, because: we know which bodies it mostly polices. We know that it is an oppressive system.   Relying on, or championing, the criminal justice system, is not going to be the answer to oppression. The problem, as far as I saw it, was rape culture, and I was worried that people were looking to a system that is not made for victims, and is looked at by many people in this society with distrust, as the answer to that rape culture. And the criminal justice system: it just isn't the answer.

So when people, not any one person, not any single instance, but many people, were talking about the criminal justice system in a way that was not nuanced, that was not seeing how merely prosecuting rape for political reasons would make us ALL lose, that was advocating against the very important need to keep the state from running over the accused, that was conflating challenging charges with challenging victims, well . . . like I said, I cannot understand any conversation about criminal justice without thinking about race and poverty. It made me nervous. So I wrote a post with Silvana.

I should point out that Sady and Silvana and I were all on the same side. I had already written a post about rape culture and how the media was perpetuating it and how fucked up that was. I just didn't like where the conversations by some people, specifically around the criminal justice system, were going.   That was my real and primary and continuing concern.

But I have been kindly reminded by Sady that I am terribly ungracious. I should not disagree. What I am doing, apparently, "isn't feminism." Also, I probably don't like that a lot of money went to RAINN for rape victims. I am a terrible person. Clearly. Because who would deny rape survivors money? Me, obviously. Who didn't even have the good sense to shut up when I saw something I thought was wrong.

In truth, I must tell you a fairy tale. It is in fact a true fairy tale! Settle in, now. So, once upon a time, there was a Gayle who was having a really hard time surviving her rape. She was isolating herself and wasn't telling anyone anything about it. Her therapist was getting increasingly worried about her isolation and suggested at the very least, she just start writing about it. At least get it out. At least don't keep it in.

So she did! She started a blog. And she told NO ONE ABOUT IT. Which was the plan! She liked the idea of getting it out into the universe, there, real, tangible, for anyone to find, but no one SHE knew, no one it would matter to, what she was writing, no audience she had to keep in mind and thus censor herself for. No expectations. She was just releasing all these demons into the ether.

Well, see, that's not true: she told one person her secret. A single person. Who had a blog. And who recently had been writing about very personal things. And Gayle thought in reading this blog with these personal things, well, this author, she can do this, she can write about these hard things, and it doesn't destroy her. So maybe I can do this too. Gayle wrote this person to thank her, in a personal email, with her real name, just to say thanks for helping her realize that putting whatever is plaguing you into words can be ok.

And then this person paraphrased and quoted from Gayle's personal email, and put a link to Gayle's blog on HER blog, which was widely read, and then Gayle had a panic attack. Because: her blog wasn't supposed to have readers. And her email wasn't supposed to have been public. And her very personal shit was now VERY, VERY visible. She felt overexposed and out of control, because she was not asked, or consulted, or told this was coming.

But, it had already happened, and she thought, well, this person with the widely read blog, she must have meant well. I mean, right? Gayle thought maybe she was trying to be kind with her offerings of readers, and so Gayle was gracious, and said thank you, and figured the damage was already done, and tried to take it as best as possible.

It would be the end of the fairy tale, but some days, as Gayle, I can tell you: I wish I didn't have readers. Sometimes, I wish I didn't have followers, and I contemplate turning the comments off all the time, or going and starting some secret Tumblr something so I can ACTUALLY be more properly anonymous or sparsely read. So, it's a little hard for me to be chided for not being grateful enough, when I was never actually grateful in the first place. I felt, instead, at the time, used.

But no: I should be appreciative! I now owe allegiance! For the "demonstrated substantial personal generosity and kindness" of deigning to link to my sad, podunk blog once, in a post that was actually about how what Sady Doyle does MATTERS, and I was merely evidence of that. But not clearing it with me beforehand. Or warning me. Why would I be having any control issues about anything at that moment of dealing with a rape? Because I was nothing without Sady Doyle.

Maybe Sady is feeling hurt by our post. But I cannot imagine so hurt that Silvana and I, with our concerns about how the criminal justice system was being invoked, were the "lowest blow" in this entire #mooreandme thing - we are not lower than the rape defenders, the rape apologists, the assholes who threatened death and bodily harm. I'm sorry, but no. And Sady will have to excuse me if I am still not feeling the shine of her beneficence. I am just a lady, with a blog, trying to continue to get shit off my chest so it doesn't eat me up. And if obeisance is what Sady needs, and everything else is "isn't feminism," then I'll take Sady's idea of what "isn't feminism" from here on out.

Update: Silvana responds here.

I no longer like Christmas.

2010-12-26T01:55:00.001-05:00

Christmas is now over, officially by an hour, at least where I am, and I am trying to tell myself that means there will be no more occasional stabs of sadness so deep it has become physically painful, so all consuming it feels as if my lungs could fill with it and my heart drown.

Christmas reminds me of my rapist (and this post has now become even LESS fun than you probably anticipated, sorry). All holidays do, but Christmas reminds me most of what I lost. I have spent the last two days turning around in my head how I could possibly erase the fact and the memory of what he has done in order to reach out to him, contact him, somehow conjure again that love and awe and completeness I felt with him. Hoping if I could just fill my head with new memories and experiences of him, immerse myself in feelings for him, I could paper over what has happened. With enough bandages over it, goes my thinking, maybe the deep wound will just go away.

Desire constitutes the self; if I am being honest, I must admit he has created and shaped more of me than anyone else ever has. I can't escape that. And I can't escape the undeniable, simple fact that I miss him.

I shouldn't miss him. But there was a decade worth of being in love, so there is an awful lot to miss. And when it is not the rape that is at the forefront of my brain, when that has settled down quietly to sleep in the corner of my mind (it will be back, yes, I know), when I am lonely, and I wish there was someone I could love, someone in the universe I loved like that again, well . . . here we are.

I saw him every Christmas, when I went back to my parents' house. It was a tradition for a while, too, to go to midnight mass with friends in the church where I first met him, when he walked up to me, out of the blue, some kid I didn't recognize and was sure I'd never seen before, to take my hands in his and look me right in the eye to tell me I was beautiful. On Christmas Eve he'd sneak in the backdoor late, late, after both our families were asleep, and we'd talk, and kiss, or make love in front of the fireplace, on blankets just in front of the hearth, our skin covered in sweat and lit orange by flames. His kisses always tasted like spring rain, and his skin would smell of the damp soil just after the shower ended. It sounds so embarrassingly poetic, and perhaps I should be ashamed at such tawdry romanticism, but to describe it in any other way would be a lie, and I am barely finding words to capture something so ethereal as it is. It was perhaps why we never inhabited any other reality well. Whatever love we had, it thrived best at night, fit perfectly in dreams. Once harsh daylight came, there was nothing but struggle.

Although, he raped me late at night, now that I think of it. But I suppose that was how we would reclaim me - he was angry, he was afraid to lose me, I was, he said, the only thing he had ever really loved. I do not think he was untruthful. His fear, even when he was hurting me, was palpable.

But Christmas is over. So I am hoping the urges to reach him, to try to erase the pain and make it all go away, to try to bring him back into my life and make the rape never have happened, will lessen. Tomorrow it will be better. The day after that will be even easier. Someday soon I will have an entire day when he never even enters my head at all. And that will be a very good day.

It never gets old!

2010-12-22T23:08:00.000-05:00

"I blow her up . . . BALLOOOOOONS!"

.

Eclipse/Solstice!

2010-12-21T11:59:00.000-05:00

Guys, it was PRETTY.

Because there can never be too many jokes trading on the lawyers = assholes equation

2010-12-20T12:21:00.000-05:00

Seriously, this is my new favorite funny thing. It keeps making me laugh.

And, I mean, she got me. Lawyers, we ARE so obnoxious. You know me! SUCH A DOUCHEBAG LAWYER I AM.

Pro tip: If you are going to use a legal term (that is not just law school stuff! It also exists in the real world! In the wilds of the courtroom!), it helps if you have gone to law school, so you don't use it wrong. A rebuttable presumption cannot be used in criminal law, because that would be unconstitutional. Just sayin'.

WE HAVE SOME POINTS, by Silvana and Gayle

2010-12-17T22:50:00.000-05:00

Silvana and I, as feminists, current and future lawyers, respectively, and rape victims, have some points. Not everyone has gone there with these, but too many people have.

1. Challenging extradition does not make someone guilty. Fighting charges does not make someone guilty. It implies absolutely nothing. Julian Assange fighting his extradition TELLS US NOTHING ABOUT HIS GUILT OR INNOCENCE. This is how the criminal justice system works. You fight extralegal and illegal actions by states. You hold states to the rule of law.

2. Stop conflating challenging state prosecutorial actions and the state criminal justice machine with challenging rape survivors stories. These are not even close to the same. To challenge charges or state legal action is not undermining victims' assertions. This thinking would undermine EVERYONE'S DEFENSE. It would mean no person could raise a defense without being accused of questioning the victim. As the people who often end up at the defense table are disproportionately people of color and the poor in this country, having been disproportionately targeted by the criminal justice system, this is REALLY PROBLEMATIC.

3. Our chat conversation said it best:

silvana: i dont even know what to make of sady's last post

"It is very, very low. Because Michael Moore’s actions indicate that rape survivors just don’t mean as much to Michael Moore as Julian Assange getting bail. They just don’t. He has assigned a demonstrable, monetary value to these two causes, and as far as we know, Assange is worth $20,000 and providing necessary aid to sexual assault survivors is worth $0."

i find this to be shit

me: i find this to be UTTER SHIT

there are no zero sum games like that in life

silvana: moore doesn't have any obligation to give any money to anyone

silvana: As far as the world knows, going out for french food is worth $100 to silvana, and helping rape survivors is worth $0

FUCKING SERIOUSLY

FUCK YOU

i am so mad

me: i just went out for dinner and paid for pizza. I VALUE PIZZA MORE THAN RAPE PREVENTION.

AHAHAHA

i love our examples

written at the same time

silvana: hahahahhaha

me: OUR FOOD: MORE IMPORTANT THAN RAPE SURVIVORS

silvana: and starving children

and people who have been the victims of landmines

me: and rape epidemics in the congo!

or liberia!

silvana: and women held as sexual slaves in thailand

me: sady doyle gave $50 for rape survivors. why does sady doyle hate starving african babies?

4. It is possible both that Julian Assange did what he is alleged to have done, and also that the prosecution and potential extradition is politically motivated. If other alleged rapists are not being threatened with extradition to Sweden based on rape charges, and Assange is, that makes this a political prosecution because of his status as a political figure. That is problematic. It is relevant how other people are treated, because it's an issue of justice. We can protest, and question, the politically motivated treatment of Assange as a target for extradition without suggesting that the accusers are liars. Nuance, people. Come on.

I don't know why this is so fucking hard.

2010-12-15T17:45:00.001-05:00

Here are some really obvious truths:

1. Making a decision to charge someone for a crime can be politically motivated. Do governments ever fucking take rape seriously enough, unless they are alleged to have been committed by a man governments the world over hate for exposing their lies and secrets? No.

2. Is rape a REALLY TERRIBLE CRIME THAT SHOULD BE TAKEN VERY SERIOUSLY and Julian Assange should be charged and tried and then if found guilty punished to the fullest extent of the law? Yes.

3. Is it possible for Julian Assange to have done both a very good thing with Wikileaks and a very terrible thing because he has raped some women? Yes.

Why are these so hard to reconcile? Look, they can all exist at the same time! There they are! Right there! And the universe has not come to an end. LOOKIT THAT.

Seriously? I LOVE WIKILEAKS. I do! A lot. I think it is a necessary and important check right now on corrupt governments, and I am especially including my own here, since the media has fallen down on the job. I think whistleblowing and secret-revealing are required when those in power try to keep the people they ostensibly serve in the dark.

And here's the thing: in my job, in my life, if I want to go after corporations or their CEOs for gross human rights abuses, the way things are going, I won't be able to do this without whistleblowers, leaks, something to nail these fucking companies to the wall. I am going to have to depend on those people with a conscious and access from the inside to help bring justice. So, yes, I am very invested in Wikileaks, in the idea of it, the need for it, the fact that maybe I can get my hands on some documents, enough to get reparations for the people who have been killed, tortured, maimed, and yes raped, all to turn a corporate profit.

But those people who are going around calling the rape charges hooey, or smearing the women who have filed charges, are making things worse. You're making it worse for me, who was raped, and for all the women who have been raped, and all the women who will be raped. You're reminding all of us how we should never file charges, that the law is not for us to defend ourselves or to grant us any kind of justice, that we are expendable in this progressive movement. Lots of other people have been writing far better things than I have on this, but you know what this reminds me of? An article from make/shift called, "Why Misogynists Make Great Informants: How Gender Violence on the Left Enables State Violence in Radical Movements." I really, really recommend a read. Because: if Julian Assange is a rapist, then he can't be a progressive. He can't be in my movement. Because, I mean, OBVIOUSLY, but also: he is no good at questioning authority if he uses his male privilege and hurts women. He not only is not on my side, he's NOT EVEN ON THE SIDE OF THE POWERLESS. He is way too invested in the hierarchies of power, the very hierarchies of power he supposedly wants to bring down. He's unable to do what he claims he wants to do, because he's using that very senseless, violent power against others.

Audre Lord said, "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's house." And if I am working to dismantle the house, Julian Assange, if he is found guilty and has committed the crimes of which he is accused, is not going to be able to help do that; because he finds shelter in that house, too.

I don't really care about people helping Assange post bail. This is how the system works, and I also think he has every right to challenge the extradition - this is how the law works. And I don't want MY country to be able to make backroom deals with other countries to illegally extradite someone they don't like or has become inconvenient. I don't trust my country to not be shady. And seeing as I don't want the American government to be able to lawlessly have someone extradited back here, I don't want to see anyone else lawlessly extradited anywhere. I want everyone to follow the rule of law, the end. And challenging extradition and posting bail are all part of that.

My problem is with the people who have been sliming, shaming, and calling Assange's accusers liars, the people who are saying to never believe rape victims, the people who are using this as an excuse to belittle women, rape, and consent. That is inexcusable. That is unacceptable. And I want those people to shut the hell up.

Because that speaking-truth-to-power thing they're supposedly defending? They've already failed.

Five things I want for Christmas.

2010-12-15T11:24:00.001-05:00

I believe, traditionally, people talk about the three things they want for Christmas, but I'm a Jew and thus not actually getting anything for Christmas anyway, so I thought I'd dream big. Or perhaps I am a greedy Jew!?!? Ahahaha, THAT.

Gayle didn't actually buy herself anything frivolous this year; she lusted, that she did, but she ended up buying instead an awful lot of expensive winter running gear after spending a chunk of money signing up for the D.C. half marathon in March, but since she has been running in windchill 10 degree weather, she has been sending a hell of a lot of thanks to whomever has invented this expensive winter running gear because it is incredibly effective and indeed worth every penny when the freezing wind is blowing full force at her and she is FINE, SO. Also, she apparently has purchased a great deal of real estate in the Third Person. I don't know.

So seeing as I didn't buy myself anything this year that I don't actually need, here's the list of things I really, really want for Christmas. Get on this, Jesus.

I want the entire world to rise up together and condemn solitary confinement and call it what it is: torture. At the very least, it is cruel, inhuman, and degrading treatment. I want every government to recognize that it is an affront to dignity of humankind, a blight upon our collective morality and conscience, and I want it never, ever used again.
I want whistleblowers to get human rights defender status. Because that is what they are. Whistleblowers are sometimes the only thing protecting us from the excesses of power and secrecy, and they are heroes, every one. I want people (especially the U.S. media) to stop worshipping at the feet of power and get some goddamn problems with authority.
I want Congress to stop being the most EMBARRASSING! ELECTED! BODY! EVER! And I would like it to stop being utterly corrupted by money, money that Justice Kennedy called "speech." Conflating money with speech is as threatening to a democracy as you can imagine. And as a corollary, I would like the Courts to find their backbone and do their job, which is being the only effective check that we have on the insane and murderous excesses of the executive branch. BUCK UP, YOUR HONORS. We need you.
I want white Southerners to stop invoking their treason-in-defense-of-owning-black-people as their proud heritage. The Confederacy formed to defend slavery. Don't pretend otherwise, you assholes.
I want to nail making skillet cornbread. It is surprisingly hard to find a good recipe.

Pictures from Chez Unnatural Forces; or, Gayle has not died yet

2010-12-11T13:44:00.002-05:00

Hey, Readers!

I am in the middle of finals period, so I am being a crappy blogmistress, SORRY. I wrote a 41 page paper on state discipline of female sexual bodies, narratives of androcentric sexuality, and vibrators which I finished on Thursday night, and I tell you, I think I short-circuited a lobe. And I still have a final left to study for, and some long-ass cases to write up, and my brain, I try to think and it just goes OW.

So here's what's been going on, OTHER THAN my sitting so long in front of a computer/with a gazillion books/with a gazillion cases that my ass has been hurting for 5 days straight (true story!).

One is, I cannot tell if I am getting a cold, or your nose just runs continually when you make a practice of going out and running six miles when it is one degree above freezing. However, I have my sick hat on - which happens to also be my snake hat, which I bought off a bunch of extremely stoned elderly gentlemen in the Atlas mountains of Morocco who were sitting around and knitting and giggling away. Anyway, it makes perfect sense that one of these gentlemen knitted this hat while stoned, because look at it:

Yes, it is indeed a green-and-white-striped hat with a long snake coming from the top, with uneven, different-sized black button eyes. It is extremely thick and warm, however, and so I am wearing it in the hopes that staying toasty combined with the fact that I am drinking enough tea to make an elephant have to pee every fifteen minutes will ward off any cold I could get.

Also, every night I have been rereading Alice in Wonderland, which is wonderfully funny and clever and a nice break for my brain. BUT SO OFTEN, reading and owning cats are incompatible. Because the second you open the book, a cat will crawl into it, and then THAT

is the end

of THAT.

And finally, everything is still right with the world, because it is still officially bed time when Amouch plays with my feet. Every night before I got to bed, he HAS to play with my feet under the blankets. It is a THING. And a thing that we do not do in summer, because he is a vicious attacker of feet. He would kill them dead every time, if he could, but then they are back the next night, and thank god for that, because there can be no time for bed unless the feet have been attacked, it is the rule around here.

See? My ass may hurt, BUT EVERYTHING WILL BE OK.

My last final is Friday. See you after that!