Friday, February 5, 2021

Facebook, Scams, and Cults



Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This month 5 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.


My subject is:

Have you ever had a chance to directly confront a scammer? How?

It was submitted by: https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/         



_______________________

    


 I don't answer my phone or go through emails enough to have been scammed in the usual way. I don't really have the money it would take. I don't have the assets. What are they going to get? A few litter boxes and some dog toys? I mean maybe someone out there has their eyes on my vintage Merry Mushroom kitchen decor, but I have yet to actually get a call about it. 


But. I do have a story. A long story. Complicated maybe. But I've been rolling around the idea of talking about it for awhile.

It involves mutual aid and a facebook group and cults. 

Mutual aid is mostly a leftist concept with roots in anarchist theory. It basically means a community coming together to benefit everyone in that community. It could be money or a service. In Portland leftist communities, there are several great examples. At the height of protests after George Floyd, there was a mobile food truck. Everyone pitched in whatever funds or food they could and every night at protests, the people who ran the truck would cook mostly ribs but all kinds of food for *anyone* who wanted to eat. You didn't have to be there to protest to take a plate. There's a particular bloc or mutual aid group that provides eye exams and free glasses for folks. Raccoon PDX cleans up after protests, provides gas masks and respirators and has a filter exchange program for these masks and respirators (used to prevent a lot of the most severe effects of the tear gas being used). They pass out storage for old filters and then people bring in the old ones to be studied by scientists in the area to determine what is in the non-lethal munitions being used on them and get new ones for free in return. There are dozens of these, and they provide community assistance publicly and transparently (accountability of funds are public). I particularly like the idea of mutual aid. It's essentially the same concept as using taxes to provide for citizens, but these groups actually do what they're designed to do because they're in the communities they serve and care and are so very transparent. It works quicker and more easily than the government, and it's a cornerstone to the ideology I subscribe to.

So when I stumbled on a mutual aid group operating on Facebook a couple years ago when I was slightly better off financially, I was pretty excited.

Cue doom music.

I joined a place called "give me your money" that was promised to be a place where people crowdfunded directly for the needs and wants of their peers. Can't make rent? You could post proof and ask. Can't afford food until your paycheck? Ask. Just want to treat yourself to a vibrator or a haircut or a coffee? Ask. You could ask for anything. And the idea of it was fantastic. I went in the group a bright eyed baby leftist leaving neoliberalism behind, and I was excited. I helped someone get meds for their dog and someone else get tickets to their favorite band after a particularly rough patch of life and money for a parking ticket...a haircut after a depressive episode left the person's hair matted. It was a great feeling. I had enough money for our needs, and it felt great to join in with others to help people who didn't have enough.

But it soon became clear that the premise wasn't exactly what it was advertised to be. And I think if you follow along you'll see why.

First, people were allowed and encouraged to pay money to ban people from the group. What benefit does this serve? A person being racist or homophobic should just be banned anyway to keep the community free of hate, and the rules said these kinds of folks would be banned for free but in practice this was not true. It became a competition for a fairly large segment of the group and ultimately for anyone who wanted to "fit in" to comb someone's profile to find things to suggest they weren't a good person, dogpile them for it (meaning several hundred people would comment and join in on the yelling for thousands of comments in a relatively short amount of time), and ultimately pay to ban them without them having their need answered, and if you went against the main consensus and tried to help that person because they needed it despite what the group decided about their worthiness, you would also find yourself in hot water as well. Were there terrible people? Sure. But as mentioned they should have been removed for free as promised. The point is, though, that many people weren't offered a chance to grow or even realize what they did wrong. People were expected to come into the group perfect little leftist echoes. Need help and posted that you like jeffree star makeup 2 years ago? If you didn't immediately denounce him and his racist antics you would immediately face the wrath of the group. But how could you know unless you follow youtube influencer drama? Trump supporter whose kid hasn't eaten all day? Christian asking for a Bible? Said "spirit animal" 5 years ago? Shared a meme that used "savage" a couple years back? You were going to be publicly eviscerated and probably your kid too for being unlucky enough to be born to someone deemed Unworthy of help. 

I understand the concept of wanting to know where your money is going, but that isn't mutual aid. That isn't what mutual aid is about. It doesn't require someone to be ideologically pure to take part. And the people who ran the group would understand these particular posts grabbed attention and ended up profiting a lot of money for paid bans for anyone who defended the original post and paid mutes for people who annoyed someone. Honestly, you could get banned just because someone didn't like your face or how you worded something. So a 30 minutes dogpile could result in 100s of dollars for the group owners and all it required was a few button clicks.

This happened a lot. And it was encouraged. And because it was encouraged, the people who participated most often and were the loudest made a name for themselves within the group--the "cool kids" essentially. People would fund their requests no matter how ridiculous in minutes to stay on their good sides sometimes multiple times a day even if the requests were expensive. This ability to get money made people more cruel and also allowed predators and scammers to reign supreme because no one would dare question someone popular with the group until they pissed off the wrong person. When I first joined a predator who manipulated nudes out of multiple women was untouchable. If a woman expressed discomfort with his advances, she was dragged and exiled...until he did it to enough popular women and they tired of it. The same ones to drag others now had space to express their discomfort. So by the time anything was done, people had been exposed to predatory behavior and scams over and over and taken advantage of, so it was really too late. People could easily make enough money to afford trips, meals, weed, and video games consistently for being a particular brand of cruel and every single request might be based on a lie. No one would care until it affected them personally, and by then it would cost the group at least $100 to ban them instead of the 10 bucks for usual bans. Yeah that's right--people who scammed and lied and manipulated STILL cost the group money to get rid of them. It's still happening, too. Sometimes the drama from within the group spills out into friends' timelines, and every couple months like clockwork someone who was trusted is outted as having scammed or lied or preyed on others. 

And then comes the cult...

The group owners started creating more exclusive levels of membership. You paid a $10 to $15 fee to get access to another aspect of the group. You could pay $10 monthly to be in an even more exclusive group. And if you were among the cruelest and most influential, you got invited to a secret group to discuss how the group worked and hold even more influence. There were hundreds in the monthly group alone, so if you're keeping track, the people who started the whole thing were making thousands and thousands of dollars a month in just fees related to the group by encouraging "exclusivity" and predatory behavior.

On top of that, someone revealed the original intention of the group was to make fun of poor people who were asking for money only someone didn't get the joke one day and asked genuinely and had their request fulfilled. It was the ill intentions of the two souless grifters who run the thing that started this whole mess and who ultimately realized money could be made off people in need. And now they grift to the tune of tens of thousands of annual income AT LEAST and do so by harming people repeatedly while pretending to just be the most wholesome people you could ever ask to be around. 

For instance...

The group rules suggest that tipping a mod or the group itself when making a request is "customary" but not required. This way of wording it--"not required"--allows the group to skirt facebook rules. You cannot require people in a group to pay money to participate in that group. Only facebook can take your money for shitass features that don't actually really promote your page or group to anyone that gives a shiiiit 🙃 But tips were required. If you did not provide proof of tip within seconds of making your goal, people would start asking if you were going to. If you didn't show proof, you would be banned. You would be publicly dragged and named on a scammer page and all the friends you made in the group would immediately unfriend you and talk shit about you. (More about that to come.) So if you're following (or not), this means that if you needed $20 to buy some ramen and tampons to make it through until you got food stamps again in two weeks, you had to give the group $2. Despite this group making 10s of thousands of dollars annually off all the things they were doing and scams they were running, they were scraping every cent they could off the poorest people. Homeless and need to get out of the cold? Better pay your fucking tip! The excuse was always that you could crowdfund your tip on top of your need but how the ever loving fuck can a mutual aid feel good about squeezing two dollars out of a starving family's hands and if they didn't get that $2 publicly insure they would never be able to get help again by framing them as scammers? It's disgusting. And despite there being some very good people in this group who would give their last dollar to someone who needed it too, they are absolutely brainwashed into believing this group is ultimately good. It almost got me too. 

If someone is banned from the group, current members are not supposed to remain friends or talk to this person about the group. If you remain friends with banned members, you often find yourself banned as well unless you're one of the meanest money bringers. So not only are you cut off from the group, you are paraded around for laughs and then socially isolated. Someone once got called out for being too big of a bully and gave what the group collectively decided was a fake apology, and their apology was printed on shirts and sold. For months, people would post making fun of this person, and their pics were used to do it. So keep in mind THEY were too big of a bully but for literal months if not years the group has used that person's pic and apology to make fun of them repeatedly after banning and socially isolating them. 

You're not allowed to criticize the way the group runs. You're not allowed to have issue with the way people talk to and about others. You're not allowed to belong to groups who have banned members that are critical of the group or be in groups that formed to be actual mutual aid groups that don't require the paid bans or tipping. Essentially, people are isolated from any person or persons who will point out all the issues with the way the group runs. The owners make flowery posts talking about the group like they're family--like shitty bosses do-- and talking up the group fairly often. It's cult behavior. Isolating people socially while stifling any criticism even for the most racist and transphobic behaviors of those in charge is what cultists do.

Which brings us to the merchandise.

Of course there is merchandise. Grifters always have merchandise.

It started out with a few pins--limited run designs of pin up girls in settings that allowed for the group name to be included. And that's fine. Making pins myself now I realize how much of a markup was being put on these pins (like 400%), but people were buying them so whatever. But then the drops became open exclusively to people who paid monthly money  before anyone else. It became competitive to have the pins. People would buy well over the amount needed for themselves then auction them off. Before I left I saw with my own eyes that one pin was sold for $1200 in an auction. If you have that kind of money, sure. I mean, why not have a golden toilet too? But in a group full of people who can't afford to eat? A group supposedly designed to help them get money to eat? And then of course came the claims that people who asked for money shouldn't also buy pins as it was indicative of them scamming for money they didn't need despite the pressure people felt to own some of these pins to get into the inner circle and win favor in that in group so that asking for money would ultimately be easier for them. The culture was made clear to everyone through words and actions: give your all the to the group and never question it, be incredibly cruel, and own the merch. That would be the only way to succeed in getting the kind of money others were consistently raking in. People sometimes *would* forgo eating to buy a pin. And if you're thinking the owners couldn't make money off auctions from private sellers, you're wrong. They required the auctioner to give a percentage of the money made to them. Of course they did. What an easy way to siphon off a few hundred more bucks a week from the cult.

Since then more designs have been added every week, but for a group with nearly 100,000 people having a limited run print of even 300 pins (and sometimes only 25) manipulates the kind of scarcity that enables these auctions and this culture to continue. And now they have bags, stickers, shirts, and more. A group wanting to have merch? Not a problem. This group and in this way? It's not a good look.

After several issues in the group regarding ongoing ableist behavior and very obvious attempts to discredit anyone who dared criticize or discuss problems with the way things work, I left it. There were plenty of times supposed scammers were revealed in the group, but after seeing people in action, it wasn't something I ever really felt keen on participating in. I didn't feel comfortable commenting much. I never asked for help myself, but I made some friends I do really care about who probably won't like this blog post. I made other friends I lost to the group when I finally left it who can't even remain friends with anyone who leaves or has anything to say about it whether they were banned or not. And I never felt like calling them out as a group would work because everyone remaining and new people who join have to figure out on their own why it's not as wholesome as it tries to frame itself as being. Not nearly. 

So here I am redeeming myself for never saying anything before-- give me your money is a scam. Don't join it. Don't encourage other people to join it. And if you have an opportunity, I highly recommend you report them for violating Facebook terms of service. Oh and if you see their new app, report it too.

There are more than enough cults out there as it is.  

________________________________

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado https://www.BakingInATornado.com

Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/

Climaxed https://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com

The Crazy Mama Llama https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

Friday, January 15, 2021

Little Places

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.


My words are:

Steam ~ shower ~ cold weather ~ space heater ~ closet


Submitted by: https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

________________________


I used to hide in my closet.

When I was a kid, there was seriously no where safer in my dad's house--4 walls, a tiny space but big enough to lounge on pillows and read, and away from anyone who might spot me and try to hurt me. I spent hours in there reading book after book and pretending I was anywhere else but home. Home was shouting and hurt and pain and fear while books let me live in magical places with talking cats and weird siblings and cute girls. Holding a book in my safe spot, I knew I would never have clicked my heels 3 times a la Dorothy of Oz and gone back to the place that hurt me so many times.

Except I did. 

Teenage me, traumatized by my parents and boys and life, returned to that house maybe a year after my mom left it because she moved on quickly with a man who despised my existence as much as I did his, and they made things bad enough that I'd rather be hit than stay. I needed my closet.

It didn't last long, living there. But my preference for small spaces where I could hide from the world and sit in my emotions or hide from them too never left. I couldn't hide in my closet at my mom's and none of my apartments had any with much space, so the shower became my refuge.

I posted as a dark joke a status on Facebook recently about people not taking showers whether because of depression or chronic illness. Where the fuck do you cry then, I asked. Because fuck if I know. That's my place... it's the one place I get to be alone without even animals watching my shame and grief and it's still my one place to escape. I've spent a lot of hours with podcasts and audiobooks in showers thinking about anything but what was going on in my life. In cold weather I crank up my little space heater and the hot water and let the steam cleanse my soul. And in summers I turn the hot water all the way down so I can feel something besides the humid weight of the south's hellfires.

I plan out conversations in there, scrub my soul of all its roughness, and let the tears roll if I need to. I plan stories and learn about fascism and laugh with podcast hosts. There's something about being hidden away from everything that helps me let my guard down and it started with the safety I felt in my closet at home.

But...is that the best I can do?

As a queer woman I stopped living in the metaphorical gay closet at 15. I was still a baby. A traumatized, too old for her years baby but still very much a baby and I knew then I shouldn't hide who I am. So why do I still need the shower to feel ok? I don't think it's particularly healthy not to want to cry or let my guard down in front of anyone else. I don't think I should be embarrassed or afraid to let myself be vulnerable. But knowing and undoing are two very different things.

I was taught that crying is shameful and gets you nothing but hurt. "Shut that crying up or I'll really give you something to cry about" was shouted at me always. I wasn't allowed to have the feelings I did without mockery and abuse. I was taught crying is *b a d* and being upset isn't allowed. But I was taught a whole lot of other shit I've let go that didn't serve the person I wanted to be, too. And it's time for this to end.

The shower is the last stranglehold on a me that too often keeps herself behind a fortress of walls and moats filled with alligators, that keeps her pain and hurt locked away behind teeth and booby traps (ok a pun sue me). But I don't want to be that person who can't be held for fear she'll cry more, who can't let anyone see that softer side for fear it will be exploited. I want to be someone whose vulnerability matches the toughness, who knows how to let the right people in and close off the rest because not everyone deserves to be there...but some do.

I don't want to be resilient because I don't allow myself to feel all the things that make it harder to keep going in the moment and push them down and bury them until I have time for them later. Maybe we put too much emphasis on resiliency without realizing sometimes resilient, strong people are the ones who have struggled the most and need people the most and are too afraid to ask because that same resilency comes from repeatedly being let down...

I don't want to be resilient. I want to be supported as much as I am supportive.

We get once to do this life thing in my personal opinion. Just the once. And I don't want to be at the end of my once with regrets on what I could and should have done to be the best version of me not by societal standards but my own. So showers are going to have to be for washing hair and maybe still for listening to podcasts and feeling refreshed but not for tears. Gonna have to reserve some shoulders for that.

________________________


Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado https://bakinginatornado.com/

On the Border https://dlt-lifeontheranch.blogspot.com/

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/

Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

The Crazy Mama Llama https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/



Friday, January 8, 2021

I Did A Thing


Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This month 5 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

It’s a mystery . . .

It was submitted by: https://Bakinginatornado.com

____________

It's a mystery to me why I never allowed myself to paint or to draw. I contended for years that I could fuck up a stick figure and then I got into pins. Enamel pins. 

I couldn't find a particular pin I wanted--a frankenstein and Bob Belcher mashup--so I decided to try to research how to design it and get it made myself. And I did. I drew him up. I drew his wife Linda as the Bride. And I sent them in for a pin design, made some online shops, and apparently created something that a lot of people didn't know they needed until they saw it. Since then I've added a few more designs that I've drawn myself, and when I started using my cat to help me advertise, it turned into some themes and cosplays that helped me flex my drawing muscles even more. Every time we do a new character I get to draw something to add to the photo series--another character or a prop. 












And then 2020 happened. I was wholly unprepared for the mental toll that a pandemic would have on me. I started drawing more. I started doing quick fixes at home painting things that needed touch ups and trying to make the surroundings I were stuck in easier to look at. 

I cleaned some cabinets out and found an old ceramic piece of my aunt's that I had never displayed. I've spoken of her before in relation to trauma because she died when I was young. My grandparents had offered her money to lose weight so she had gastric surgery and ultimately died of a brain aneurysm puking from the side effects of the procedure. And then despite being responsible in part for her death, they did the same to me as a young adult. I took some of her things for my apartment after that...I had a morbid connection to her in death that I'd never had in life. Those things stayed with me through good times and bad for a couple decades now or nearly. I decided to paint over the old glaze and make it something I didn't hide in the cabinet like I did with all those memories. 

It was plain gray and black before


It looked amazing. To me at least. And my brain got so many good feels from painting and creating that there have been a bunch more painting projects since--a dresser, cabinet doors, my entertainment stand doors, hiders for my window a/c, a whole mini-mural on my wall, a redone lamp, fixtures in my bathroom, a drink crate turned shadow box... There have been so many the last few months keeping my mind busy when the anxiety and the cabin fever take over. 

It helps. It's not therapy but therapy? In this economy? Ha. Ok.

I had convinced myself that I wasn't or would never be as good as others when it came to this particular craft so why try. Why bother. I'm not a perfectionist, so why would I ever deny myself something that would bring me so much joy out of fear that it wouldn't be good enough? Good enough for who? I'm going to post these pics with the full understanding that this isn't probably anyone else's taste, not people who read this blog. But the mystery is solved. I don't give a shit, and I'm going to do what makes me happy instead of being hesitant to take the leap because I'm not as good as someone else. 









I sculpted and painted the horns

Dresser with skull knobs

My kid says these look like sleeping vampires (there are 3) on






Haunted saloon for my cats


Halloween figures I repainted

_____________________



Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornadohttps://www.BakingInATornado.com

Part-time Working Hockey Momhttps://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/

The Crazy Mama Llamahttps://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

Wandering Web Designerhttps://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog


Friday, December 11, 2020

A New Tradition

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words are:

fluffy ~ chestnuts ~ sparkling ~ mantle ~ jolly ~ reindeer

It was submitted by: https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/


____________


I'm not a traditional Christmas kind of person which, if you know me at all, probably doesn't come as much of a shock.

What will is that I'll be attending church all month for advent and if there's a Christmas service I'll probably do that too.

But first...

I live in the Deep South, and it's hot as Satan's balls 90% of the year, it seems, so roasting chestnuts in front of an open fire really ain't a thing we do down here. I don't even have a fireplace or a mantle to go with it for stockings to be hung on, and even if I did, my cats would find a way to pee in them or rip them down or hide within them such lovely gifts as hairballs or pieces of rodents, a spider leg or two.

My cats are also the reason I don't do a tree with a fluffy skirt stacked with wrapped gifts or sparkling lights or garland or fancy ornaments. I do not have the time or inclination to pick the damn thing up 27 times a day or vacuum up the needles they pull out or clean up the vomit after they eat parts of things they shouldn't eat. The longer I've been sick with chronic fatigue syndrome the less I've had any desire to drag all this stuff out only to have to put it back up when I've barely recovered from cleaning it all up every single day.

I give my kid his presents as soon as they come in because I can't keep gifts a secret, and even though we do eat with family on the eve of and the day, it's never been particularly important for me. I've never been the kind of religious person that does the whole holy day thing. I'm not religious at all, and the days that seem to have the most meaning for others never have meant those things to me. Parts of holidays are fun, and I pick and separate out which things I enjoy and which things I'd just be doing because it's what people are expected to do. I'm fine with keeping my traditions to watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Elf and Home Alone (1 and 2 and sometimes 3) and making cheese pennies for Christmas Eve. I like watching old cartoon Christmas episodes and buying candy canes in random flavors to try and before things got really extra tough this year, I loved searching for the perfect gift for someone and watching their face light up in excitement when they opened it and saw what it was. Alas, 2020 will be a year of skipping that one no matter how much I enjoy it.

Something good did happen this year though that will help and has helped ease some of the tensions and burdens of this chaotic mess, and I think I'm a better person for it.

I took my atheist ass to church.

Ok, it's not that simple. I don't know if you may have seen the church signs of the UCC in Clackamas County, Oregon that often go viral on Facebook, but I stumbled across them several months ago. Some of the best ones used scripture to discuss acceptance of the gay community. One said "our transgender siblings have heartbeats." Another talked about jesus as a refugee. This was in stark contrast to the far right evangelical christianity I had grown up around down here--the church beliefs that so many used to tell me my kind of love is a sin and hell-worthy. I'd grown up around people that used their religion as a weapon at every possible opportunity, and I had a lot of old wounds and feelings and, let's face it, trauma associated with christianity and religion as a whole. I followed the page out of curiosity over the signs figuring I'd see more I could share, and I did. But I also saw a clip of a Sunday sermon and there was Pastor Adam, jolly as he almost always is, talking about love for the LGBTQIA community with a pride flag hanging behind him. He talked seriously and openly about a Jesus who accepted everyone on the margins of society and that, in fact, that's all Jesus was about--love. I can't quote him verbatim, and I don't think I should because I could never do the words justice. You have to see it for yourself. His point though was about how wrong everyone else was who used the Bible to condemn.

I bawled.

There's no shame in admitting it. Suddenly here were these old wounds being soothed in a way I didn't know I needed and at a time in my life when I thought I'd gotten past all that. Here I was feeling so much...vindication is the right word I suppose. Or maybe not but it will do. I started out with a couple videos, and then I read his articles on the church website and then some more on the site for the Raven Foundation. And I don't mind telling you I was an absolute mess every single time. Every one of them. The kind of love and acceptance of who I am that Pastor Adam talked about is not what I got growing up, but it's what I deserved, and I see that more clearly than ever now. There was never *any* reason to withold it or to judge. Never.

Of course seeing the sermons after the fact just led to me wanting to watch them in real time which I can do because the pandemic kind of forced the church to go virtual. Every Sunday morning I see the post that says everyone is welcome--atheist, jewish, christian, gay, trans, straight, pagan...anyone and everyone gets a seat at the table--and I smile and get a little excited looking forward to taking part and (shocker!) sometimes even commenting. The first day I watched live, someone commented they are a trans witch who took communion with an Arizona tea and a piece of birthday cake, and received so much love and welcoming...and I knew I'd be okay. Everyone is welcome to take communion, too, by the way. Nothing is required to have a seat at the table and break bread together. 

The sermons themselves with their messages about love and acceptance and peace...about those on the margins being who Jesus represented, about universal healthcare and living wages and housing as a right...these are things that are important to me, deeply so, and to see them represented in arguably one of the most important and misused books in all of history in a way that was denied to me my entire lifetime has been transformative. This church and this Pastor never say the people who used religion to hurt me are not "real" Christians and never deny that this evangelical kind of christianity has unfortunately become mainstream. They call it out. Loudly and proudly and often. They shine a light on all the ways the church and Jesus and the bible are and have been used to oppress. It's real work for justice and not flippant thoughts and prayers. What this church and Pastor Adam particularly are doing to address the issues the religious right have brought to our political system are important...possibly vital. 

And it's what I needed in one of the most stressful years yet. It kept me going when I didn't know how I would. Many people can say the same. In fact, I see them say the same a lot of Sundays. 

So I guess I have a new tradition for the holidays. Perhaps the best one yet. Ok nothing can beat Elf but perhaps a close second.

____________


Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado https://bakinginatornado.com/

Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

On the Border https://dlt-lifeontheranch.blogspot.com/

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/

The Crazy Mama Llama https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

Friday, December 4, 2020

Time After Time



Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This month 6 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.


My “Secret Subject” is:

It’s January 1, 2021. How do you see 2021 playing out?

It was submitted by: https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/


___________________


Time is a construct.

I mean, sure, we age. We have sunrises and sunsets and calendar years to mark our trips around the sun, but we also arbitrarily change the time twice a year in most of the United States to fit old farming and harvest needs, so time is not really an unmalleable fixture.

We get lost in 8 hour work days and fixed holidays and 7 a.m. alarms, school bells, deadlines, punching in and punching out, and begging for any scrap of life unhindered by the clock. We live on borrowed time and someone else's time and at some point a clock or a day of the week or the marking of a brand new year starts holding far more significance as a symbol than it does as reality.

I'm not really a new year, new me person. I don't like to set myself up for absolute failure.

January 1st isn't going to magically change anything for me. My chronic illness isn't going away. I won't wake up with a new body or a brain that will suddenly be better at handling all the things my body can no longer do. I won't wake up to better behaved cats who don't pee on the stove the night before Thanksgiving leaving me to not discover it until it is much too late. Yes, yes I mean I burned cat pee on Thanksgiving. My financial situation isn't likely to change for awhile if ever. None of the things that have made my life more difficult in the day to day is going to change once I wake up on January 1st far earlier than I'd like because dogs have to be walked and the vacuuming needs doing.

Are there going to be improvements? Maybe? We elected someone who isnt trump. I mean , there's that. But, at *best* we prolong our descent into fascism until someone better at it than Trump comes along and woos enough people. Frankly, Biden is far too little too late to stop that train from rolling. He has no plans on investigating Trump. He's our modern Gerald Ford who we remember for what besides pardoning Nixon? I won't suddenly get healthcare or the ability to buy weed legally or be less afraid for myself, my genderqueer kid, or any of the friends I have in marginalized communities. We won't be able to quit saying the names of people killed by police as Biden prepares to funnel more money into policing. Kids will still be in cages. All the unbearable parts of being American will still be there and unfortunately will be even less talked about just like under Obama.

We will still be living in a pandemic. Vaccines aren't going to be widely available for some time and who knows if they'll be affordable even then. I haven't left my house for most of 2020, and I still won't be able to on January 1st and probably for much of 2021. My immune system is compromised, and no one gives a shit enough about their loved ones not to gather and spread death much less about strangers with shitty immune systems. I'm stuck here for the foreseeable future.

If I hear one more healthy person tell me I'm being too cautious when my kid has no other parent if I catch it and die, I'm going to fucking explode.

What I'm trying to say is 2021 is going to be the same as 2020 but without the stress of an election year. It'll be stress over a president who won't get anything done or can't. It will be stress over a conservative Supreme Court and career politicians that should have been drug out in the street ages ago and if not 5 years ago then definitely when they abandoned us in a pandemic to play head games with each other while we starved and died as sacrifices to the only Gods allowed in this country--capitalism and money. (And of course the minor god of internet clout). 2021 will be all the same problems I had in 2020. I'll be living in struggle and trying my best to find happiness and peace in the little things.

I am a roll with the punches kind of person, but it's good to be able to predict most of the punches as they come, so I cant pretend anything about the coming year is going to drastically change, and that's ok? Maybe? I honestly don't know. It's been a rough one, but I've made it this far so fingers crossed I can hold on for longer. It's fine to live for those little things and little moments...because I'm the only one that can get the dogs to take their meds without a fight and knows that my kid's favorite color is pink. I have to finish reading Discworld and finish painting the halloween mural in my kitchen. I have an album I pre-ordered coming, and I kinda want to see if David Lynch actually is doing a series for Netflix. I can't do those things if I'm not here...and when those projects are done there will, hopefully, be more. Hopefully there will always be more.


_____________________

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:


Baking In A Tornado https://www.bakinginatornado.com/2020/12/ghostless-secret-subject-swap.html


Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog


A ‘lil HooHaa  https://hoohaa.com/?p=15131

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2020/12/secret-subject-swap-scariest-thing.html

The Crazy Mama Llama https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

Friday, November 13, 2020

Conversations with Death part 2

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words are: masked, singer, popcorn, whatchamacallit, and snow owls

They were submitted by: https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/


_________________________

Death sits in the middle of the floor surrounded by cats. He always sits on the floor. He says it fits more cats. One time, he actually patted the floor and said I CAN FIT SO MANY CATS IN THIS INFANT. It took me a minute to realize he was referencing a meme, should have said BABY not INFANT, and wasn't, in fact, talking about feeding cats to kids.

Listen, it's not the weirdest shit he's ever said since I started explaining internet culture to him. But he's trying.

Anyway, he sits in the floor and he is absolutely covered in cats and cat hair and a dog too who either loves him like they do or is thinking mightily about stealing a femur. I select an episode of The Masked Singer at his request and push play. We have coffee. We have snack packs and a couple whatchamacallits and popcorn. We're good.

He even brought a pair of snow owls shakers full of his special curry spice blend. Curry is his favorite. And curry popcorn ain't bad. Don't knock it til you try it.

"So tell me why again you wanted to watch this show?"

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANIMALS DOING MUSIC WITH ROCKS IN BEFORE.

A giant seahorse had taken the stage doing a version of Ocean Man by Ween. I mean, odd choice for this show, but ok. Why not WAH? Wet Ass Horsey? I didn't say this out loud, however, because I had a hard enough time explaining Ben Shapiro memes. I can't handle doing that whole song with him.

He bobbed a little to the tune and dare I say hummed? a little. I mean I have never heard him as much as I thought him. That doesn't make sense but literally none of this does. Basically, his part of the conversation just appears in my head like I've heard it but he didn't actually say it out loud. So there were some vibrations that I would think are humming, but who knows.

"Are you familiar with this song then?"

The vibrations stopped. He shrugged a little.

IT'S CATCHY.

I mean, he's right, but I literally cross my fingers hoping he won't ask about what it means because I played Sturgill Simpson's Turtles All the Way Down thinking he'd appreciate it...but instead I spent like 2 hours afterwards explaining drugs before I gave up, and I don't have that in me today.

He turns back to the tv. Commercials are on. I can't fast forward because I'm broke and have basic hulu, but these days I'm kinda glad I can't. These might be his favorite part of watching anything. Maybe they make him feel less...alone? I didn't realize the levels of absurdity we'd gone to. Capitalist fever dreams. So when I can't explain why a vampire at a therapist is a great way to sell auto insurance, I get a sense that he's kind of relieved that we are both left haunted by the inescapable Lovecraftian horrors of modern advertising.

The show continued on with Death pretty enraptured by the teddy bear, peacock, lemur, and alligator singers who graced the stage with their short performances, but there wasn't anymore humming. After the final break, the winners and losers were announced. When that lemur pulled its head off and revealed the human inside, I knew from the flame of blue that lit up the room from Death's eyes that we were going to have to have a major conversation.

I grabbed his as the words hit me.

WHAT IN THE FUCK

"Uh....i think I might be rubbing off on you. You don't say that word."

IT'S THE ONLY THING THAT FITS.

"yeah tell me about. Sometimes it is."

SO. WHAT IN THE FUCK?

"You know what? I'll explain, but we definitely need more coffee first."

_______________________________


Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado https://bakinginatornado.com/

Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

On the Border https://dlt-lifeontheranch.blogspot.com/

The Crazy Mama Llama https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com/

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/

Friday, November 6, 2020

Conversations With Death

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 6 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

 My subject is: all or nothing. 

It was submitted by: https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/

My only explanation is that I've been reading Discworld and Death is my favorite and my cats all did these things. 

                            _____________________

Death, the real Death and friend of Sir Terry Pratchett, stood beside me looking out the back window at the rising sun, both of us with hot mugs of peppermint mocha coffee warming our hands in the cool winter morning. This guy. We'd been hanging out regularly when he had some down time, and it was finally time to have a talk. THE talk. 


"listen, we have to talk about the cats thing"


THE CATS THING?


"Yes. Cats. Your obsession with cats"


I AM DEATH. I DO NOT OBSESS OVER CATS.


"Listen, I've read the books. I know what you told Ipslore the Red about cats being the only thing that makes life worth living. I've read them all."


"IF, SAY, I DID BELIEVE SUCH A THING, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE THE PROBLEM. YOU HAVE SO MANY?


"I knew it! I knew that's why you liked to visit here."


BUT NOT THE ONLY REASON. YOU DO MAKE A COFFEE TO DIE FOR.


"Always with the puns, you."


I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.


"Oh I think you do. You're, uh, eye flames or whatever flash a deeper blue when you're being coy.


I SPEND TOO MUCH TIME HERE. WHAT ABOUT THE CATS?


"Do you know what they did yesterday?"


OF COURSE I DON'T.


"That was a rhetorical....Anyway, they broke into my refrigerator and stole the good turkey!"


WHAT IS GOOD TURKEY?


"The really delicious, thick turkey for sandwiches that costs me too much money..."


SO DEFINITELY DELICIOUS TO CATS?


"Well, yes..."


AND YOU DO NOT SHARE?


"No, it's for me, duh."


HMMM. THEY MAY HAVE REASON TO THIEVE IT FROM THE REFRIGERATOR THEN, DONT YOU THINK?


"ok then how about the time they broke into the bathroom and ate toilet paper and threw it up everywhere?"


WHAT?


"They somehow got the door open to basically the outhouse and ate some toilet paper and threw it up all over the carpet."


WHY DO YOU HAVE PAPER FOR YOUR TOILET? DOES IT HELP IT TO WORK?


"It's for...nevermind. Nevermind. What about the time one of them peed on the stove?"


PERHAPS ALL THE BOXES FOR THEIR BUSINESS WERE OCCUPIED?


"But why the stove??"


WELL, IT IS THE CLOSEST TO THEIR BUSINESS ROOM IS IT NOT?


"Ok then. Ok. Ok. what about the time Seymour started throwing up while pooping in one of their 'business boxes' and ran out while still pooping all the way to the carpet to finish pooping and threw up at the same time all while making eye contact with me?!


IS MY LITTLE ORANGE BOY OKAY? IS HE SICK? HIS LIFE TIMER IS STILL RATHER FULL.


"...he's fine. You know how he is."


YES. HE IS DEFINITELY A LITTLE ON THE SICKLY SIDE. BUT SO ARE MANY OF THE OTHERS. FOR SOMEONE COMPLAINING ABOUT CATS, YOU HAVE TAKEN ON THE HARDEST TO CARE FOR.


"Yes, but I mean...can't you see they're little demons and not exactly the only thing that makes life worth living? They are stubborn and difficult and forces of destruction."


OH THEY CANNOT BE DEMONS. I KNOW DEMONS. DEMONS ARE NOT THIS DOCILE.


"Docile? These assholes? Are you kidding me?"


TRUST ME. YOU DO NOT WANT ACTUAL DEMONS. DEMONS, UNLIKE CATS, ARE ALL OR NOTHING. YOU EITHER BEND TO THEIR TOTAL EVIL OR YOU ARE CRUSHED INTO NOTHING.


I take a moment to glance his way. His eyes glow a serene blue. He's not in any way being facetious even though he just exactly described my horde. And as the cats come up in ones and twos to get some ear scritches and skeletal blood and show love the best they can to our guest and then to me so I'm not left out, I suppose they are pretty rad even though they are, in fact, demons. I had been thinking he was too easily fooled by their cuteness, but maybe I was being a little too harsh in my frustration. I'd certainly gotten highly skilled at cleaning carpets and upholstery, and you never know when that might come in handy...


I sat my mug on the counter and reached down to pick up a grey ball of fluff who nuzzled my neck and gave me a polite little meow. And if he could, I swear, Death would be purring himself.


                         ____________________


Here are the other posts for today. Please enjoy:

Baking In A Tornado https://www.bakinginatornado.com/2020/11/going-and-gone-secret-subject-swap.html

Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

A ‘lil HooHaa https://hoohaa.com/

The Crazy Mama Llama https://crazymamallama.blogspot.com

Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2020/11/secret-subject-swap-family-traditions.html