Tag Archives: hate

A Post-Election Vent

I just have to say this, because I saw a few posts on Project Semi-Colon’s Facebook page smfrom people saying, “Republicans are not monsters,” etc. on a response to a post saying that calls to the suicide hotline were doubled, mostly from trans teens who were scared. And these people had the gall to come onto this post and say things like “No one cares about LGBT kids anyway,” or “Republicans aren’t monsters.”

No one has the right to tell anyone what they should or shouldn’t be afraid of. No one. The people who are scared are scared because after hearing the rhetoric that has been spread around for the past eighteen months or so by “Republicans,” and seeing what has happened in the few days since the election by people because “our guy won” and what they’ve perpetrated, people have every right to be scared. No one should tell them, “Oh there, there, Republicans aren’t monsters.” Screw them.

If you’re a Republican and claim that you aren’t misogynistic, a xenophobe, racist, or anti-LBGTQA, you sort of signed your rights away to a pass on any of that by voting for him. He represents all of that. When you voted for him, you voted for the whole package. You don’t get to pick and choose the pieces that you don’t like. You choose the whole thing. You now have to own that. Own your vote. Own who _you_ voted for. Own _what_ you voted for.

I know that most of the people who will see this already agree with what I’m saying, so this is mostly just a vent on my part. I know that there’s the saying that “Love trumps hate.” I’m not quite there yet. I’m trying to get there. But I will help people who need help. I wish I could give my car bullet-proof glass and make it a hate-free safe zone, sort of a movable safety spot. A new sort of Lovemobile, not the 60’s sort, but one brought about to help people get through the bullying, the hate, the targeting wherever I see it happening. Sort of a purple TARDIS of love. Unfortunately it’s not purple and it’s not bigger on the inside than the outside. I can only fit so many people in it. But there’s no room for people who hate.

Mental Illness Doesn’t Discriminate, but People Do

I just left a group I had recently joined, under the impression that people who were intent on erasing the stigma of mental illness would be, well, more open-minded. I am a somewhat naive person in some respects; I will admit that. Possibly because I’m hopeful. Possibly because I’m gullible, to an extent, and I want to believe the best of people. Especially ones trying to erase the shame associated with mental illness because, after all, it’s not something a person can help.

I was surprised, then, to find a posting after the shooting at the recruitment centers, describing the shooter as having an “extremist personality” and one of the women who’s daughter had bi-polar saying, “her daughter didn’t act that way.” I was furious. And very disappointed.

I responded that if the young man hadn’t been Muslim, this wouldn’t even be a topic of conversation, and apparently the idea of mental illness being a stigma was based on race and religion, not the reality of mental illness, which doesn’t tend to pay attention to those lines. It doesn’t discriminate. And as for the woman whose bi-polar daughter not acting that way, I said knowing one person with mental illness is knowing one person with mental illness. If we were all the same, one pill would magically cure all of us and yay, the world would be a happier place. But it doesn’t work that way. We are all individual chemical factories with unique brain chemistries and genetic predispositions. That’s why there are so many drugs out there that don’t work for so many different people, or cause paradoxical reactions (the complete opposite of what they’re intended to do).

I said I didn’t want to be associated with people claiming to want to erase the stigma of mental illness, selectively. What do they think society is doing to them? Exactly what they were doing and patting themselves on the back for. Oh yes, “Extremist Personality,” my therapist pointed out, isn’t in the DSM. Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, which is what the United States uses to diagnose people. I should note the DSM-V has been highly criticized. Which doesn’t have anything to do with this. I asked how do they expect to change things when they are being so close-minded themselves?

But what do you do when the people claiming to try to make things better for people with mental illness, and I should add that at that point, it was only a few people who were agreeing with this anti-Muslim sentiment, hardly the whole group, are spouting the sort of nonsense that some people do against any person with mental illness, that keeps the stigma alive? I should have not left the group in a huff, I should have seen if what I said actually made a difference. I was hasty, but I doubt what I said made a difference. Because people’s beliefs are ingrained, and that’s the sad thing. “We don’t want our children with mental illness to be stigmatized, but if you happen to belong to a religious group we normally label as terrorists, don’t expect any sympathy?”

We need a lot more love, and a lot less hate.

p.s. I realized I should add an addendum here. I met some really great people in the group, and I hope they know who they are, because I still communicate with them, and I really admire them and what they are doing, so it isn’t as if the experience was a loss–hardly. I learned a lot about schizophrenia, as well, which I didn’t know much about. It was this one exchange that upset me.

The World Interpreted through Alice in Wonderland

6586059B-1BB2-418C-8D3F-A5D67FBC9231.png

Consulting the Oracle

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First Meeting

Many Don’t Arrive

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A Meeting is Held

Alice is voted unanimously as Ambassador

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Waiting to meet the Red Queen

(With trepidation )

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A productive discussion did not seem in the cards

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And, in fact, became quite hostile.

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Things on the home front were not much better.

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With a heavy heart, Alice helped prepare her friends for battle with what little she could find.

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Alice listened to the Mock Turtle’s prophecies of the outcome of the war.

    4E9FC6FE-AC4F-4C99-AF28-2985270D3379.png Is the Mock Turtle going to be right?

Mr. Putin, speaker with two faces?

Mr. Netenyahu, regretful of civilian deaths?

 

Who will take responsibility for their actions?

Who will pretend to paint the roses red with the blood of the fallen?

 

Ann Coulter: Where Have I Been all this Time?

Truly, though. Where have I been? How could I have missed such an icon of right-wing no lo sé, values? Such a paragon of modestia virtue, and, why, just as sweet as a good old slice of American pie de apple.

She clerked for a Fulbright scholar who studied in London. She worked for Senator Spencer Abraham, the only Arab American in Congress. She has been compared to Clare Boothe Luce, one of her self-proclaimed idols, in terms of her satirical style. Only, from what I read of Clare Boothe Luce, she said what she did with class and wit, however scathingly. She was also the Ambassador to Italy. Italy! By all means, they…they play soccer in Italy! Of course, another major difference between the two is that Clare Boothe Luce actually travelled–left the country–to see the places she was writing about.

Clare Boothe Luce, from Wikipedia

Another branch of Luce’s literary career was that of war journalism. Europe in the Spring was the result of a four-month tour of Britain, Belgium, Holland, Italy, and France in 1939–1940 as a correspondent for Life magazine. She described the widening battleground of World War II as “a world where men have decided to die together because they are unable to find a way to live together.”[19] In 1941, Luce and her husband toured China and reported on the status of the country and its war with Japan. Her profile of General Douglas Macarthur was on the cover of “Life” on December 8, 1941, the day after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. After the United States entered the war, Luce toured military installations in Africa, India, China, and Burma, compiling a further series of reports for Life. She published interviews with General Harold Alexander, commander of British troops in the Middle East, Chiang Kai-ShekJawaharlal Nehru, and General Stilwell, commander of American troops in the China-Burma-India theater.[19] Her lifelong instinct for being in the right place at the right time, and easy access to key commanders made Clare Boothe Luce an influential figure on both sides of the Atlantic. She endured bombing raids and other dangers in Europe and the Far East. She did not hesitate to criticize the unwarlike lifestyle of General Sir Claude Auchinleck‘s Middle East Command in language that recalled the barbs of her best playwriting. One draft article for Life, noting that the general lived far from the Egyptian front in a houseboat, and mocking RAF pilots as “flying fairies”, was discovered by British Customs when she passed through Trinidad in April, 1942. It caused such Allied consternation that she briefly faced house arrest.[20] Coincidentally or not, Auchinleck was fired a few months later by Winston Churchill. Her varied experiences in all the major war theaters qualified her for a seat the following year on the House Military Affairs Committee.

Her voting record was generally more moderate than was expected by her GOP backers. To help the nation meet its rising war costs, she advocated “taxing the rich almost to the point of constitutional confiscation.”[24] She called for repeal of the Chinese Exclusion Act, comparing its “doctrine of race theology” to Adolf Hitler’s,[25] advocated aid for war victims abroad, and sided with the administration on issues such as infant-care and maternity appropriations for the wives of enlisted men. Nevertheless, President Roosevelt took a dislike to Representative Luce, and campaigned in 1944 to prevent her reelection, publicly calling her “a sharp-tongued glamor girl of forty.” [26] She gave as good as she got, accusing Roosevelt of being “the only American president who ever lied us into a war because he did not have the political courage to lead us into it.”[27]

During her second term, Luce was instrumental in the creation of the Atomic Energy Commission[28] and, during the course of two tours of Allied battlefronts in Europe, a campaigner for more support of what she considered to be America’s forgotten army in Italy. She was present at the liberation of several Nazi concentration camps in April, 1945, and after V-E Day began warning against the rise of international Communism as another form of totalitarianism, likely to lead to World War III.[21] In 1946, she was the co-author of the Luce-Celler Act of 1946, which increased the numbers of Indians and Filipinos permitted to immigrate to the US (previously limited to only 100 per year), and allowed them ultimately to become naturalized citizens.”

And this is the woman Ann Coulter idolizes? Why not act a little more like her? Jeesh, this is a woman I would possibly like. She had hutzpah.

What does Ann Coulter do? She’s unapologetic. She likes to “stir up the pot.” She  does not “pretend to be impartial or balanced, as broadcasters do,” and in the process ends up sounding like an imbalanced, intolerant, bigot with a heart five sizes too small. Or she may be cold-blooded like a reptilian species. She is the brash voice of part of what is wrong with this country, where “unapologetic” is a good thing, “no” really means “yes,” and “shoot first ask questions later,” is the new motto. All that matters is that this soccer fetish doesn’t catch on in the United States of America. Which makes me wonder, what does consist of a fetish in her book? It’s not like I’m going to read any of them. I think perhaps, as a service to her right-wing proclivities, she perhaps needs a good tea-bagging.

Now, Clare Boothe Luce I would be more interested in having tea with. Even if she was a Republican, she had a heart.

Wisteria Garden in Japan from inthralld.com

Wisteria Garden in Japan
from inthralld.com

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.

–Oscar Wilde

 

Can Everyone Just Stop Talking, Please

There are times in my life when I feel so frustrated, so small, so unheard, so forgotten as a citizen that I want to stand on the tallest building I can find and just scream until someone pays attention to what I am saying. How are people, little people like me, heard in this country of Freedom of Speech, the right to arm bears (a much better choice, if you ask me–give those bears in Alaska a chance against Sarah Palin and her helicopters), the conservative right who literally make absolutely no sense. I don’t mean that they’re just illogical, the words that they string together to form sentences do not answer questions, they give no answers–they are a Möbius strip. I’m really not just saying this–look for this article on The New Civil Rights Movement’s web site: Sarah Palin: Atheists Are Suing Private Citizens Over Nativity Scenes ‘On Somebody’s Law.’

Why, I ask myself, do she and other people like her end up being heard? Because they’re stupid? I know I’m not the one with all the answers. I know I can’t solve all the problems. I know things can’t be fixed overnight. I used to want to work in International Relations when I was a kid, because I wanted to make the world a better place. I’m so glad I didn’t follow that path, because I would have ended up a disillusioned puddle of an adult. I don’t know what is wrong with the world. But today for the first time in a long time, because there’s a part of me that’s hardened to the daily horror that is the world, if one is paying attention–today I had to stop because I started to cry. I simply could not take any more. Any more illness. Any more famine. Any more war. Any more oppression. Any more GOPs smearing Nelson Mandela’s name and comparing the American national debt to apartheid. What? Any more of Syria, the Ukraine, Iraq, North Korea, Afghanistan, Turkey, Israel, Palestine, and whoever else I left out.

And the white elephant has turned into an animal of a different color, a giant brown bear.

I do not hate or hold grudges against any country for what happened in their past. If you do that, you end up like Israel and Palestine, or Ireland and Northern Ireland, fighting wars that have been going on for far too long. The point is that what happened has already happened. I am not religious, but nor do I believe the “sins of the fathers are visited upon the sons.” We have been told, over and over, that the point of history is to learn from the past. Well, we’re all doing a pretty damn poor job of it. We haven’t learned a blessed thing. People are more interested in political maneuvering, the next election–I speak for the US, the only country I have experience to speak on. The usual rounds of mudslinging and defamation. And hatred, true hatred, growing against the LGBT community within our love thy neighbor religious institutions, the lovely christian right.

When I was growing up in the 1970’s, I had nightmares about nuclear war, the utter and complete devastation of the world. It seems many of the writers of dystopian young adult fiction didn’t grow up under that shadow–many of them are half my age. Maybe that’s why dystopian, apocalyptic fiction doesn’t appeal to me; for me, growing up, that was a true possibility (not that it isn’t completely out of the question now, but it doesn’t hang over us everyday like fog). My nightmares are changing. And again, they emanate from the same source; the bear is up and busy these days, passing some terrifying laws, one in particular. In my nightmares, it’s as if there’s a curtain and we can’t be sure what really is going on in Russia. We know they run propaganda–oh, wait, news, every two hours with their head of telecommunications telling millions of Russian citizens that people who are gay have “unsuitable hearts for living.” It’s pretty clear what the implication is. Whatever the means, they should die. But he quickly added that he has gay friends. Not anymore, I would imagine. I think “Who needs enemies when you have friends like that,” applies here. I don’t believe the bulk of the Russian people feel this way. Again, it’s the loud, brash, I-can-talk-over-everyone-else people who run the show. Whoever runs the media holds the power. What are they doing? I ask myself. Is this just the beginning? What do they intend to do? I don’t want to look at their past. There’s a history of many, many people ending up dead. And this scares me. Very much.

And the timing, with the Olympics. There’s the rub. What to do about the Olympics. Have countries boycott them, and the athletes who have been training all this time not compete? But tell me–what is worth more; precious metal on a ribbon around your neck, or knowing that you have made a difference, you have made a mark far bigger than a name that goes into Wiki with what place you won. You have made a statement about not just humanity, but the fact what is happening is not moral, it is not ethical, and it should not be condoned. Right now no one is to talk to children about people who are gay–how long before they actually start disappearing so the children don’t see them either? That is my fear, that is my nightmare; the mere possibility that could happen to someone I love.

And out of the darkness there is a small bright light.  A political figurehead who supposedly has no power in the political system. President Joachim Gauck of Germany announced he will not be attending the Olympics in Sochi next year. A politician with a conscience. Are there any others? The goliath that is Coca-Cola folded under one of the seven deadly sins. What I would ask, if I could shout and yell until people listened, is will the politicians around the world make a stand and follow President Gauck’s example, or will they crumple?

And after that I would dearly appreciate it if someone would bring me a glass of water.

Sleep well.