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My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
Ugh...what's happenin'? I just woke up a little while ago from a nap I didn't expect to take, ate a quick dinner that was basically half a bag of pizza Combos, and I have no idea how I'm gonna feel like pullin' out an entire entry this evening. But that's for me to worry about, and not saddle you guys with. ![]() ![]() Sorry, people of the "30 Day Image Prompt Contest - CLOSED" ![]() So about the guy in this picture instead...there's an ominous tone going on here, as in wherever this guy ends up next, everyone else is probably gonna have a bad time. Whether he's gonna jump from that building, or retreat back inside and head for a conference room with some kind of assault weapon designed to take out mass quantities of white collar criminals, the only breath of certainty I have is that there won't be a happy ending. I'm inclined to think that a mass shooting is gonna occur. Maybe because anytime one happens in our country, the media dickrides it for clicks and giggles as a means of keepin' the fear fresh...whatever "fear" that is. And I'm not trying to trivialize any recent tragedy, but you can pretty much swap out names, locations, and bodycounts, and the story is basically the same. <young white male> enters <site> in <location>, opens fire, and kills <x-amount of> people. The only thing different is the killer's backstory, but even then how much variance is there...or, perhaps more importantly, how much is the media willing to tell us? And I wasn't gonna approach this angle, but since I'm wingin' this entry anyway I may as well. On Tuesday in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ![]() I mean, ok...that could be a bit of a stretch, but given the nature of the subject it's gonna be something that stays in the back of my mind whenever violence like this occurs. Certain mental health illnesses are still stigmatized in many societies, even as we become more accepting and understanding of them. It's a complex topic alone, and it's clouded even more by people who aren't clear in what they're trying to say when speaking about it at a national level. This tends to confuse people who aren't familiar with the subject, and what happens when there's confusion? We make assumptions and lump everyone into the same basic categories...leading to the stigmatization of what is generalized as "mental illness". It becomes a circle that everyone who isn't afflicted with it or affected by it seems to become an expert on, without really saying anything in terms of what they mean or how to go about determining what role it plays in certain tragedies. It can be frustrating to someone like me, who has to consider how the general public reacts in these circumstances. How much information will I have to disclose to an employer, who may decide not to hire me because I have an illness that has led a tiny percentage of people to do terrible things? Who else needs to know, and how much? Even though I'm absolutely on the side of less guns and wouldn't know how to go about hurting anyone with one, it only takes enough politicians to say they don't want to take any chances with people like me if they want to restrict our freedoms "for the sake of preventing senseless tragedies in the future". Don't laugh...if it's ok for Joe Sixpack gun owner to be concerned that the government wants to take away his huntin' rifle, then I have just as much reason to be concerned that America wants a return to pre-20th century institutionalization for those with mental disorders. I'm critical enough of a thinker to understand that neither scenario in this argument is likely, but don't we all occasionally fall down the "what if" rabbit hole? If one of the many roles of media is meant to encourage discussion, and discussion opens up avenues for change, intelligent people should be able to rationalize both sides of the topic. The problem is that most corporately-controlled media outlets come with prepackaged agendas that blind and bind everyone into a black/white, us-versus-them mentally, and intelligence gets thrown out the window. I could continue, but I've rambled so far off the original purpose that it's better if I just save that for another day and start reeling this entry in. Suppose this guy is just an average, normal guy on the surface. Maybe he works in this building, with bankers or lawyers or executive types. He sees what goes on...unscrupulous activity, legal loopholes, etc. He knows people are getting screwed by interest rates, bad mortgage deals, and higher-ups who are just lining their pockets on the backs of everyday people like him. And he's had enough. He could call them out on it, and risk losing his job and his livelihood, or he can take matters into his own hands and eliminate another negative force in society. He's got a choice to make, and neither one is going to end well for him. He knows he can't live with himself much longer if he's associating with crooks who will never see the inside of a jail cell. He has to ask himself which option he would prefer, if the closest outcome either way is death. There's no right answer. There are no winners here. ![]() First, congrats to Lyn's a Witchy Woman ![]() ![]() I honestly don't know what to do with either prompt offered up today. I could try to make something outta spilled milk, but I don't even like milk and the expression itself doesn't inspire me. And I really don't feel like writing a poem or a story at the moment...even if the prompt with the different animals sorta feels like it'd be something out of a cutaway in an episode of Family Guy. I could totally see Peter saying something like "Yeah, like that time I was stuck in a knock-off of the Enchanted Forest, and instead of Winnie The Pooh I had to deal with a dog that constantly stole money from me and sold all my junk to support his outta control honey pie habit..." and then you'd see a clip of an orange-ish, overweight dog wearing only a t-shirt as he gets stuck in a doggy door because he's fiendin' again, while the rest of his forest buddies are like "WTF, not again, you asshole" and they just decide to go chill at the fast turtle's place because he's stealing wi-fi from his neighbor so they can binge watch the next season of Orange Is The New Black, even though Peter still feels kinda bad for the dog until he just kinda looks around like "screw this guy" and he snags the honey pie just so he can start eating it by the two-fingersful fistful...only to eventually get hooked on it himself, and the irony is that he's thrown into a rehab version of OITNB. I know that's one giant run-on sentence, but it's the best I feel like doing today, and everyone always told me as long as I gave it my best shot it didn't matter if I won or lost, or somethin'. ![]() I had to really think about this, because there are probably lots of words that annoy me, but I've been trying hard lately (ok, for a couple years now) not to actively show it. And this might come off as sounding petty, but ever since I dated a girl in high school who jokingly called me a dummy, that word has the potential to absolutely grate my nerves. And it's all semantics...but it wasn't the word itself or how she implied it. It was the way it came out of her mouth that irritated the fuck outta me. I don't believe she could help it; it was her normal tone of voice, but ironically it sounded really dumb when she said it, which obviously made it worse because she wasn't I guess what you'd consider a dumb person. It just sounded like she had a 1st grade reading level and some kind of speech impediment whenever she'd say it (and I don't mean to offend anyone who can't read or actually has a speech impediment, because even though I can be mean and rude at times, I would never make fun of someone for that, seriously). So yeah, I've been called a lot of different things before, and I've learned how to take insults and kidding around with a grain of salt...but chances are, if you call me a dummy, the memory of her saying it is where my head's gonna go to, and I'm gonna do everything in my power not to knock your chiclets down the back of your throat. ![]() ![]() The last couple of mornings I've woken up with an absolutely random song in my head, completely unrelated to anything I watched or read online the night before or dreamt. The other day it was "Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole, which I don't even think is on my iPod (and if it was, with how I've been music-wise lately I would've skipped it anyway), and today it was this song. Before I looked at Charlie ~ ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Well, that's all I've got for you guys tonight. I'm gonna edit this, convince myself to keep judging 30DBC entries, laugh at the notion and tell myself I can get back into that tomorrow, and see how much more time I can waste on the ol' internet thingey before I waste time while trying to falling asleep. Peace, there's no denying, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |