Strangest Dang Thing

This has to be the weirdest thing I’ve seen in some time.  Rachel sends her state senator a letterexpressing concern about Stacey Campfield’s legislation which we have already discussed in such detail I won’t go over it again except to say that, as long as we have a first amendment, a third amendment, and a fourteenth amendment, Campfield can suck my butt*, and Bob Krumm calls her on it because Rachel might have used a form letter as the basis for her letter to the senator.

This would be a weird claim in any state, but let me just tell you a little about our state.  Fifty-three percent of us are illiterate or barely literate.

I bring that up because, for anybody, dealing with someone who has a lot of power when you don’t (say if you’re a young woman and you want to write a letter to a long-time state senator) is daunting.  You want to be sure that you get your point across and that you sound like a person whose ideas should be considered.

Form letters that can be altered to meet your needs are one way of achieving that.  I’m not trying to insinuate that Rachel is not very literate.  I’m just saying that, if Bob Krumm sets a standard that everyone who expects her concerns to be respected by her representative on the Hill must write her very own letter in exactly her words, well, I think he’s effectively eliminated 53% of the public.

It occurs to me that the problem really may be that Rachel has a point, a damn good one (that this legislation is a piece of crap) and there’s no arguing with the merits of her position.

So, instead, it’s the death by a thousand cuts.  She doesn’t complain about the legislation correctly.  Her complaining doesn’t matter because the legislation will never be passed.  She’s just complaining she got a form letter (never mind that the form letter a.) doesn’t address her concerns and b.) contains the phrase “the unwilling prospective mother,” which means that Senator Henry believes it’s okay for the state to force an unwilling woman to endure something painful that might kill her).

Overlook all that and instead focus on how Rachel didn’t jump through the hoops correctly.

What the fuck?

I’m of two minds about going to the blogger thing on the hill.  One, I would like to lay eyes on these folks and ask them questions and get answers.  But, two, god damn it, I can’t believe I’m going to admit this in public, I’m worried Smantix might be right.  I suspect he is.

Campfield threatened John H.’s job.  And Kara Watkins want me to give her my name, address, and phone number?  I can’t decide if I’m paranoid to be suspicious of that or smart. 

But I feel like a hypocrite dunked in rotten milk if I don’t go, because I was the one hollering that we weren’t invited.

Guide me, oh wise internet, guide me.

—————–

*I realize such scandalously harsh language has probably caused a certain segment of the Republican party to cry, but as long as you’re talking about giving the state the right to take over my body at any time in order to force me to do something dangerous against my will, I’m going to perceive that as a hostile act.  If I meet you in person, I’ll be polite, but don’t expect me to be docile. 

The End of an Era

So, my mom is giving up her apartment and moving back in with my dad full-time.

Now that my dad has moved farther north, the apartment doesn’t make as much sense financially and there’s another problem: she doesn’t like the crowd her neighbor hangs with.

Yes, tonight my mother called me to complain about the Christians in her building.  They’re always trying to pray with her and saying “God Bless You” in a way she finds insincere and showing her pictures of their children even though they don’t seem to ever be with their wives, just her neighbor lady.

Folks, everyone’s religion is their own business, but when you’re creeping out a minister’s wife with your Jesusiness, you might consider toning it down some.

What is Wrong with People who Fight Dogs?

Via my favorite internet uncle, a link to the Commercial Appeal‘s pitbull blog. One word of warning: the video starts playing immediately every time you load the page, which is very annoying. And, if you have a heart, this will break it.

Here’s what I wonder, which is a little more specific than “what the hell is wrong with people who fight dogs?,” If a kid in your neighborhood was responsible for the deaths of, let’s say, three dogs, you’d have your eye on him as a potential serial killer or violent sexual offender. And yet, I don’t see a lot of people asking questions about what this kind of animal cruelty–dog fighting–might indicate and yet there are folks out there who are responsible for a lot of dogs suffering and dying.

Dogs will fight, true enough. But to enjoy that? To train your dog to cause pain and suffering to other dogs? Isn’t that some kind of enormous warning sign that other people might want to steer very clear of you? I just don’t get it. If killing dogs in one context is known to be a precursor to other anti-social behaviors, why isn’t killing dogs in this context?

Why are we still talking about breed banning when that does nothing to address why so many folks enjoy causing the dogs to suffer until they become ticking time bombs?

The Butcher Totally Wants You To Pick Sides

So, Saturday, I took the world’s most awesome hot shower, which miraculously lasted me through a couple of bluesy renditions of “Last Train to Clarksville” and that Don Williams song that goes, “Lord, I hope this day is good./ I’m feeling empty and misunderstood. /I should be thankful, Lord I know I should…” etc.

After, I came downstairs and threw my laundry in the wash. 

Shortly, the Butcher goes upstairs to take a shower and comes down all pissed off.

“Damn it, B., I bet you never tell the internet about this kind of shit.  Why don’t you get on your computer and tell all your bloggy friends about how you left me no water pressure and no hot water.  Then they won’t think you’re so awesome.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll just remind them how you abandoned me at the airport and how Smiley had to come rescue me.”

“And they’ll see right through that emotional manipulation, B.  Your internet friends are smarter than you give them credit for.”

“Don’t drag them into this.”