Splinters from Shooting Arrows

This coffee tastes like it was brewed from raisins. Blech!! The mountains are calling from a distance. Mirroring such a distance is a task I will attempt to accomplish with this scribbling.

Reading an article about the possible origins of accelerated pubescence in human females some weeks back, the inevitable innuendo of hormones in meat and milk came trotting along. Spelunking along the various countryside of theory and research was all well and good. Evidence suggesting obesity was the cause of accelerated sexual development was presented. Other causes escape me due to the earliness of the hour. The only failing in the article as far as I could tell was the underlying preoccupation with the onset of adolescence. I don't care at what age my daughter develops unless it impacts me in some fashion.

Having said that I can hear the chortling of the puritan masses, warbling about sex before marriage and the need to protect our young from....from....something evil. What it really comes down to is fear. There is actually more than one fear here.

The first is the fear that parents will have to conduct sexually-dominated conversations YEARS before they would normally do so. Oh CRAP!! Yes, the parents who had thought that they could be their child's friend must now use the "v" and "p" words somewhen between the ages of 11 and 13, although it may be 8. We are immature about our sexuality in this country and it's amusing, but sad; because we fail our kids by not having the courage to take on these topics.

The second fear is the fear of aging. In my warped opinion the reason Brittney Spears' most recent performance was not well receive was because she didn't look seventeen anymore. Reviews held more about her appearance than her actually singing ability and the exclusivity of the word “lackluster”. This would indicate that there are other contributing factors besides her vacuum of talent. The area I will avoid at this point is the woman dressing younger and younger because that's what guys go for until you end up with a 60-year-old in windpants and a Roo cap.

This may sound paradoxical to my previous paragraph about empowering girls with medical and moral knowledge however it's now. The connection is that the lack of parental participation leaves young women with self-image concerns that are filled by the media and even their peers. On the opposite end of that spectrum is slow erosion of women's identity by people who say, "But she's only 19, she can't make that decision." Kids, if she can go to war and vote and be placed in an adult jail, guess what?? She's an adult. I have heard this saying applied to woman as old as 24. When someone's child is caught in a bad situation where they exercised poor judgment, rationalization strolls in to assuage the ego, calm the conscience and relieve woman of their sovereignty. Or when a woman becomes emotionally upset I hear people say, "Well she was all emotional, she can't make good decisions." So when a man is all emotional he can't make a bad decision?? Maybe if you take that gun/knife/pitchfork/hand-grenade away from him.

It's absolutely ridiculous how society dissolves a woman's identity because of age and emotional disposition by making these types of behavioral excuses. If women want equal rights they should demand by owning up to everything they do. They should receive no more leniency or exception for their disposition than a man does in the name of equal rights....right??

Or does the fact that we have different genetic pre-dispositions and psychological schemas make it impossible to have equal rights in the first place?? Save that for the next Rambo movie due out this month. I will be taking my grandmother, her four sisters, my aunt, two female cousins and my step-mother who all are, quite strangely and erroneously, on the same cycle if you know what I mean.

Purposefully I have left the war on Christmas out of my New Year's resolutions. I've placed it neatly behind The War Against Terror (TWAT), The War on Drugs (TWOD), The War on Guns (TWOG), The War on Waste (TWOW), and The War on Katie Couric (TWOKC) [that one's mine].


In case of all of your previous life ambitions, goals, errands and needs have been fulfilled the reason I hate Katie Couric is that she is SO disingenuous. When her husband died of colon cancer she had a colonoscopy done LIVE on television. Most recently she slapped a co-worker out of frustration and anger. How the hell she got into a prime time slot is beyond me. I make no derogatory remarks about her sloppy, unprofessional, vapid so-called journalism nor will I lash out at her graham cracker, cookie cutter two-dimensional personality complete with a full-set of matching dental caps facilitating a permagrin to rival Vanna White. I will not stoop to such behavior.

This brings me to another point. How can you perform oral sex if you are smiling all the time? Obviously Vanna and Katie did NOT ascend to their respective lofty positions through fellanthropic means. Although, oddly enough one of them does have a midriff that Brittney did four years ago. Rumors have circulated that Katie ALLEGEDLY has a hatch in her jaw which allows for this, but reports are unconfirmed at this time. Kids, make sure you use the "a" word whenever referring to a public figure as the social function known as parody is in the end stages of George Bush Disease, also known as Cancer of the Rectum.

The more I read the less I like. Getting through the Voudon Gnostic Workbook will take some time. I read the Sunday New York Times, AlterNet, OneGoodMove, CNN, the occasional issue of AdBusters and Bizarre Magazine. Juxtapoz! Mag is good for art. StumbleUpon is good for everything. The world seems so far ahead of me in terms of knowledge and experience. It would've been nice to see the perspective that I have now as a career filmstrip in Home Ec class in 8th grade.

Slide 1: It's Not What You Know, It's Who You Know.
Truth: people are hired more by who they know than what they know. So get close to that bully who steals your lunch money and the nerd who sits in the front. They may one day be sitting across the hiring desk from you. Also get to know the ugly girls. They give it up easily in high school and they may blossom later on, which would be a bonus.

Slide 2: Whatever You Want to Do, Forget It.
Did you know that by the time you finish watching this film strip you will have changed your career path 87 times!! It's true!! So when you go to college, major in English. More English majors get hired to do unrelated work that pays 3 times the national average than any other major (besides Biochemical Engineering and Accounting). Save the concentration for your Masters because by the time you get to college your degree won't be worth spit. Speaking of spit, did I mention the ugly girls??
These days certifications are the way to go. Based on the theory that continuous certification provides an every expanding and competitive skill set, you can get certified in Project Management, Six Sigma quality, or Fries and Lego’s.
Also don't worry about all the loans, just keep going to school. Stop going when you die. You will have acquired a debt equivalent to the Gross National Product of Belgium and they won't be able to collect because, well, you'll be dead.

Slide 3: Like Cheerleaders, It's Going To Suck
People, cheerleading is not a sport. So when you are sitting with your guidance counselor and/or parents and they tell you how wonderful the experience will be - don't believe them. This goes double for sitting with a priest in a darkened room. All the Rah-Rah-Rahing in the world will not prepare you for the unbridled childishness of the Corporate world. Professionalism does not exist in the world. It's a facade and a lie. If you want to effectively communicate with people of all ages in all settings pretend you never left High School. Seriously, that is average maturity level for people ages 15 to 99.

Now if you found any of the above to be offensive in a sexist kind of way, thank you for paying attention. If you are so hopping mad right now that you want to send me a piece of your mind, no thank you, I have plenty of fruitcake from the holidays. Also you skipped the part about parody, please review.

Thinking in language is a mechanism I think most people overlook when speaking. We say many, many phrases which have no intrinsic value or meaning. That’s what I noticed about going abroad the language is shorter and more direct. Upon first hearing it I mistook the patterns for being rude. My academic advisor who is Korean and been in the U.S. for over twenty years refers to English as a very “quiet” language. Words like, “please” and “thank you” have only meaning when meant, however have fallen by the wayside and necessary, not purposeful.

The only reason I bring it up was that I inadvertently participated in conversations with a group of Intelligentsia and as such my vocab score shot up 300 points. You have to keep up on these things whilst simultaneously building one’s street cred. You must be all things to all people and be able to relate to them on every level. But not above the high school level as was previously mentioned.

Even the Intelligentsia have their limits. They strayed into a weighted discussion about whether to give their friend a ride to the gathering based upon her level of attractiveness. Upon her arrival and not being introduced, my judgment was that she wasn’t worth the trip. Although there was some debate about the effect of time, leveraged by the consumption of resources involved in picking her up. In the end, human decision-making mostly comes down to a cost-benefits ratio. The only economic formula related to existence, one ever needs.

Ah, the chosen machinations of existence. The practice of mourning someone who is still alive is a rare thing these days. My friend Liz, who I thought about recently, is one of those. In the formative years she was a dear friend. Straight-forward, simple humor, gentle spirit is my recollection of her. These words do not encompass her compassion nor her large smile at a moment’s notice. She lost her mind because she did not guard it from others. The last I heard of her she’d gone over the deep end and lucidity was completely an option. I do not mourn her constantly, only at times, reflecting on people giving too much of themselves.

My friend Xine Turner once read a magnificent poem entitled, “Mind Fuck”. She spoke with almost adoration at the way she’d been messed with during a specific relationship. It was if she respected the overt threatening and subtle manipulation she experienced. So much so that she wanted to construct an ode to it. Through the haze of history, my own faded memory it was an impressive delivery, made upon a concrete slab during the excitement and confusion of college orientation.

In trying to cross a great distance poorly prepared for literary peril I have become estranged from the very point I was seeking and by delusion, lusting after. Much like a horse who has realized he’s run out of road I stop abruptly and look to-wards my rear for a better route.

Enjoy the view.


Playlist:

“California Love” by 2Pac featuring Dr. Dre
“Solitary Man” by Johnny Cash
“Chaiyya Chaiyya” by Sapna Awasti
“Which Side are You On” by The Dropkick Murphy’s
“Needs” by Collective Soul
“Mother” by Pink Floyd
“Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” Jimi Hendrix