(Aborted) Children of the Corn

So my Ferret and I were taking a road trip yesterday through the lovely central MidWest. And it was scary. No, seriously, I was freaked. Not just because I now have a better understanding of the phrase "the middle of nowhere" than I have ever had before. Not just because I saw a sign advertising a tree and landscape company whose motto apparently is "We eat trees... they taste like chicken". (True story.)

It's because I also got the chance to see something I never even imagined: Anti-choice billboards in cornfields. Yeah. Farmer Brown's doing his part to Save teh Baybeez. I counted 4 on a 3-hour trip. The first time I saw one, my reaction was "Did that say what I think it fucking did?!"

I asked my Ferret not to route us on that particular highway anymore, although it is one of the more direct routes to [Large City], because every time I saw a sign in a field like "Abortion kills a baby every 24 seconds", or "It's not a choice, it's a child", I felt like I'd been slapped.

And I wondered, how must a woman who has had an abortion feel, driving past these awful things? What kind of person puts or allows someone to put that on their property? Why that issue? Why that sentiment, when there are so many other things for your field to say?

I mean, I can get behind "Support Our Troops", "Buy Local Produce", "Join AAA". I'd applaud "Eat at Joe's". But "don't kill your baby, you slutty evil female" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

I'd never seen anything like these billboards before. I don't understand it, and I almost couldn't believe it. And I was shocked, and sad, and upset, and mostly? I was pissed. Really pissed. Royally fucking pissed. I wished I could've stopped and bought spray paint because that is a vile thing to inflict on a driving feminist.

Some days, I want to get the fuck out of the Midwest, no matter how pretty the trees are in the fall. I want to go back to South Florida. Yesterday was one of those days. It really was.

Comedy Fail

Ok, so I realize that to many people this statement is blasphemy, but: What the hell makes George Carlin so great?

I was listening to Napalm and Silly Putty in my car (yes, I listen to books in my car, I'm a geek), and I was struck by how some of his material is, yeah, really funny. But the rest of it? Incredibly cynical and mean. I'm sorry, but we seriously have enough people who think it's cool to be mean and cruel and not give a shit about other people. We have enough people who think it's funny, or laudable, or shows how 'edgy' you are. "I don't give a shit about nothin'!"
And Mr. Carlin was apparently one of those people.

I was listening to the bit where he's ranting about how he loves to watch bad things happen on the news because it entertains him. Explosions, war, death- better than cartoons, apparently. What the hell? Seriously, how did we come to this point? A guy talks about his extreme levels of schadenfreude like it's an admirable trait and we think it's funny?
When the hell did empathy go out of style? When did cruelty become the new thing? Where was I?

Hell, did I miss the point or something, overlook the exquisite irony of his semi-sociopathic raving? I know the man had legions of fans for most of his career, and maybe I'm a Humorless Feminist ^tm, but I can't really figure out why. Maybe I just don't see the humor in black humor. Sorry.
But really...

[EDIT:] In comments, PhysioProf mentions that George- to his knowledge- was not an asshole, and his rants were indeed sarcastic. I guess then that my problem with Carlin's rants is the same problem that befell Dave Chappelle- there are people who watch you say these things, and they are not smart enough to understand your true meaning. They're dumb enough or bigoted enough to take it at face value, and they use a famous person's distorted ideas to justify their own brand of bullshit. Honestly, a lot of the time I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. So that, then, is my problem with that. Not George himself. Sorry George.

Very Very Random

So I have been off!, adjusting, doing things. Being a pain in the ass, which is like a full time job for me. And stressing. Stressing so much that the muscles in my back are constantly a-twitch with tenseness (that's a bad thing, right?).

I moved across town and enjoy the downtown historical area I now live in. I do not enjoy: having no shower, only a tub. Also: moving big furniture up 2 flights of stairs: NOT FUN. Just in case you are contemplating doing something like that? Don't.
The kittehs are thrilled with the long hallway down which they chase toys (usually jingly balls, at 3 am). I am not thrilled with the carpet in the kitchen (really, don't ask). I do like the window that leads directly out onto the roof. Kittehs not so much- they're miffed that they don't get to go out there and play. They like to wrestle with Ferret and nom her hands. They do not nom my hands. I don't know whether to be offended or just grateful. They are growing, slowly- still small and cute! Nomad likes to strut and display her adorable stub-tail and have it petted. Chaos will occasionally deign to go near me. (Chaos requires extra patience. Of course.) I may get off my ass and post more kitteh pixx in the near future.

I am sorry that I have been reading the Internets but not writing it. Sigh. So sad. I have been reading Tiger Beatdown, because Sady rocks, and reading Shakesville, and feeling bad that Melissa is (it seems to me) too nice to chuck metaphorical heavy objects at people who obviously suck, and these people are on her blog, making her sad.

I have been reading amusing things- A Hilarious Post I found through Shakesville that had me giggling in the library.

I have been playing with useful things- have you heard of Worldcat.org? It is a site that searches libraries. All of them. Everywhere. For whatever book/movie/etc. your twisted little heart desires. How you are to actually get them is your problem, but it does find them.

I have found a blog called Illustrocity with sexy sexy drawings- you should view them. And heap praise on their creator. If I had a working printer I'd print them out and have a fun night with my paints- it's Coloring For Grown-Ups.

That is all I can think of for now. I just wanted to make sure you all know (all 4 of you) that the rumors of my death were highly exaggerated.

On Weddings

So I've been thinking a lot about weddings lately, partly as a way of avoiding thinking about marriage. When I think about marriage I not only have that nervous fear of "can I handle my lover's dirty socks for the rest of our lives?" but also anger at things like power of attorney, insurance coverage, and taxes. So why then would I be thinking about marriage? I'm unmellow enough as it is, yeah?

Because, finally, my ever-fabulous Ferret and I have decided on a date for our wedding. It's months away and it's driving me crazy already. I'm thinking about flowers and food and guests and budgets. I'm rolling my eyes at my own descent into madness: as I make lists and consider aesthetics, I'm a stressed-out combination of classic femme and professional organizer (which is what I am, after all).

I've been not-so-jokingly saying we should elope- weddings are a waste of time and money, they're heterosexist and patriarchal, and who the hell needs to deal with seating arrangements and froufrou when all you really want is a party, followed by a vacation (and at some point in there, lots of sex).

My Ferret changed my mind when I asked her in all seriousness why we didn't just do it and save time, money and stress. She simply replied, "I love you. I want to be with you for always, and I want the world to know it."
And I realized: I want that too.
…I hate when she's right. Damn crafty ferret logic.

That is it: the real and necessary reason behind the ceremony and celebration. All that fuss, all the energy expended and arrangements made and time and money spent and relatives gathered; it's because this is an important moment. I know lots of people still think of this as a coming-of-age rite. I have my doubts about that, knowing lots of single grownups and immature married folks. But either way, committing to the person you want to spend the rest of your life with is a big deal. And all the hoopla is there to tell you and the world that this is important. You've found your love, your life, your partner, and it matters. At least that's how it seems to me.

So when people are less than enthused when I announce my upcoming nuptials, it's hard not to take it personally. My father still hasn't said anything to me at all yet- I thought "congratulations" at least should be a no-brainer. My mother is the one who told me she wasn't sure my father would want to walk me down the aisle.
I have no intention of being "given away"- I'm not a possession, and getting married makes me no less my own person. But it feels like I am blazing a new path here, and I'd like to be able to cling to some traditions as familiar landmarks. (Hey, some we're losing. Fuck that toss-the-bouquet nonsense.)
But to hear that my own father doesn't want to participate in one of the more significant events in his daughter's life; to hear, as I do in my mother's voice, that my parents don't share in my excitement and happiness- it makes me wonder. It makes me reconsider the whole thing. I do have a good relationship with my parents and thought they were used to the idea that their one and only girlchild wasn't going to make that walk with a dude. Now I'm not so sure.

If they can't share in this with me and be as happy about my wedding as they are about, say, my brother's, then what is the point?

…having just typed that, I know that I am lucky that my parents didn't disown, assault, or evict me when they found out (which makes me angry that that happens at all), but that doesn't mean I feel any better about what I perceive as their rejection of the validity of my relationship.

And then I think, fuck 'em. The people who really love me and Ferret for who we are, all we are, will be behind us. We have people who will share this with us. If anybody "isn't comfortable" with us (have you noticed that usually means "I'm homophobic but won't admit it"?), then they can stay away. More cake for the rest of us. I want no one at my wedding who is not a true friend.

Okay, I'm done ranting for now- I have to go look at lacy things and flowers on theknot.com.