mayor_of_el_ghey_journal
sacramentalist

(no subject)

What's the biggest news of the night?

Jays win
Trudeau wins
New Star Wars trailer
New Life is Strange
New Dr Who
New Gilmour Girls

Am I missing anything important?

alchemy
sacramentalist

(no subject)

Didst thou hear the new Prometheus film is going to be called "Alien: Paradise Lost"?

Milton was an Engineer

Sing, Cinema! - Muse of motion picture -
Of execreble prequels. How pretentious
Is this colourless tripe shown in three-dee?
Devoid of narration. Devoid of wit.
How wasted is talent on vapid plot,
Confounded with grisly happenstance?
Tell us o Muse, with whose authority
May Ridley Scott dare disturb Milton's grave,
Whose chthonic voice deserves greater respect?
Nuppence more shall be wasted on this effort

how_much_does_a_hemingway
sacramentalist

(no subject)

This is why I love Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt:

"People love hearing terrible details of news tragedies.
One, it's titillating like a horror movie.
Two, it makes them feel like a good person because they care about a stranger.
Three, it makes people feel safe that it did not happen to them."

oh_reily?
sacramentalist

(no subject)

This is "White Privilege". I'm snarking so if you have a problem with that, feel free to not read. Oh hell, no. read it.

Someone posted a FB post saying that though the Cecil the Lion story is sad, so are the stories of those murdered by the police (namely, Eric Garner and Sandra Bland). What would help is if we all foster understanding and compassion.

- People take issue over the choice of the word "murder". They then argue over the Sandra Bland video and whether she deserved arrest and "mysterious death"
- two chime in about the evils of Planned Parenthood -- that (gasp!) some use abortion as birth control. Someone literally says "who will speak for those with no voices?"

And then there is this nugget:
- "I haven't been stopped by the police in over 20 years and have no fear of them.. Why? My vehicles are maintained properly and I obey the traffic laws. Hmm... Am I depressed that I don't have a job as a college educated 50 year old you no what male? Yes. - I love cats and Cecil was murdered, however, we have more pressing issues right here at home. i.e. Immigration, economy, homelessness(soon for me), etc. Can we not focus more of our energy there?"

Pro-life people will always grind that axe. It's to be expected. They won't go away unless you ignore them.

I'm more angry about the unemployed guy. The thread became a job hunt for this bozo. It takes the blindness of privilege to say "I never get in trouble with the law because I do all the right things" and then ask people to feel bad for him because some misfortune befell him. If he had a job, he'd be talking about the jobless with "I have a job because I'm college educated and do all the right things so why should I care. I got where I am because I work had, not because I'm a 'you know what' male"

I'm more angry than I thought I was. But I do care. I care for him. I care for the police. I care for their "victims". It's just exhausting.

how_much_does_a_hemingway
sacramentalist

My tweets

  • Tue, 19:13: To people crying over a lion: Yes, it's sad. How many pigs, chickens and cows have you eaten this year? Rein it in with a little perspective
Tags:

how_much_does_a_hemingway
sacramentalist

My first wife was a redhead. We were 6.

I've never told the story of the first girl I married. We were 5-6 years old.

Sharon lived in the blue trailer across the street from me. She had a younger brother named, Barry. Her mother had such a thick Scottish brogue I was afraid to talk to her. Her father, I didn't even know she had until he was at her birthday. Weird. Who didn't have their dad live with them?

The trailer park we lived in, the Viscount Estates, had faux gated entrance. We were allowed to play anywhere, so long as we did not leave. Back then, you didn't have adults supervising anything. They just kicked us out. If we got too much sun, there was the hell of Solarcaine.

We spent the summer playing in the ditch behind her lot or sitting on the transformer box. When we stayed in, we watched The Gong Show. All summer, we hid in the long grass in the field, and under the picnic tables. I was with her under a picnic table when I lifted my hand and there was a bee impaled on my left middle finger, flailing to escape. I had been stung many times before, but this time I freaked out. My grandmother put my hand in water and corn starch to get the stinger out. Alas, she didn't and I needed to get it removed by a doctor with what looked like my mom's seam ripper. It hurt, and left a white dot on my left hand well into adulthood. It has faded, now.

One Easter, between Mass and visiting my grandparents, I begged to go out. My mother was annoyed, as I was all nicely dressed (probably polyester slacks) and made me promise to not get dirty. Sharon was in white. We hung out in the trees next to the field. There was a huge family of kids we weren't supposed to play with. The Pickles? The Pickels? Both names are in Essex. Whatever, there were a million of them, and Trouble. So, of course we hung around them. Because we were dressed nice, the oldest pretended to marry us. We stood in the trees, while Gordy Pickle did the wedding rites.

One day I discovered one of the plating chemicals in my sister's microscope kit could immediately dissolve Styrofoam -- the very Styrofoam holding her microscope kit in place. Next thing you know, there's this gaping hole. My sister was furious. My grandmother and aunt? Oh the yelling. So I did the only thing a 6 year kid would do -- I blamed Sharon. I am not proud, dear friends. Then when the truth came out, I got yelled at for lying. We had that microscope for years, and seeing that friggin' hole just made me feel guilty guilty guilty.

I honestly don't recall if we played after then. Summer probably finished and she didn't go to Holy Name.

What I *DO* remember is S vanished and reappeared with two black eyes. I remember her riding by and not wanting to talk to me. I was probably just as shy of her as she was of me. Word on the street was she fell while trying to ride her bike with no-hands. My sister said her father did it. That made no sense to me. Did he punish her for riding with no-hands?

People regularly came and left the trailer park. She might have been there a year, or just a few months. They moved away and I never saw or heard of S again.

Was there a point to this story? A lesson? Who the fuck am I, Caillou?

crack
sacramentalist

(no subject)


mayor_of_el_ghey_journal
sacramentalist

(no subject)

OK, cynica has declared an LJ Renaissance. Well, she didn't phrase it that way, but that's what she meant.

Who's in? Come back from your World of Warcraft and Dreamwidth and MySpace and Facebook and Google+ and tell me all about your family and your fanfic. And photos! *WE* know selfies are *NOT* evil. Sure, selfie sticks look as ridiculous as socks on sandals, but we don't have to see it. I want to see what you people look like.

Reddit has no community. Gawker is assholes. Jezebel is toxic. I want to hear your stories without wading through EE Cards about drinking wine, or UpWorthy listing things (#4 broke my heart!)

If anything, there's a whole new crop of uninformed 20 year old moms to argue with!

how_much_does_a_hemingway
sacramentalist

Remember when I was funny on the Internet?



Being the boss can be lonely.

how_much_does_a_hemingway
sacramentalist

(no subject)

I got myself an Apple Watch. jelis?


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