Vacation is over so I will be forced to be more concise. With no further ado: image editing fun.





This jab does reinforce the stereotype of childfree people as selfish materialists. It cannot be denied that becoming responsible for a little one places demands on one that reduce self-centeredness, in the same way the married have to share and balance their own desires a bit more than the single (ignoring those who constantly 'date'). It is also true, trolling the bulletin boards where the persecuted, misunderstood childfree minority seek community, that you will find frequent revelling in taking vacations that many parents cannot afford...and tirades against the drooling, screaming and ungrateful nature of some kids. Forgive us. We need to gloat and revel at times, to look down our noses at those who so often do the same to us. It is not mature behavior but a needed venting of steam. As for the ugly child image, I won't deny that some are well-behaved and cute. But attacking the child and family is a natural reaction to the sacred and inassailable status those two words- family and child (children) have acquired. Pat Robertson used the image of suffering children to raise money for a flying hospital in Africa, and then used the money to mine for diamonds. I acknowledge reproduction is natural; but it is also frequently accidental, or a simple cork to place in the hole of 'what is my life's grand purpose' or 'nobody loves me' or 'I want to change the world to agree with me'. It leads to much preaching- and being driven from the footpath by SUV-sized baby buggies. Sure, children are innocent; they are also instinctively selfish until properly socialized; not unlike adults, with the difference that kids are more pliable and thus there is a bit more hope for them. Adults' habits harden with age until selfishness is intractable and even lengthy therapy or religious conversion results in only superficial change.

So much for being consise. And hell with work. Childfree folks simply don't go for sacred cows, or calves.

And thus it is that I have been spending some quality time with myself this vacation, effectively deep up my own ass, but in a good way...exploring some identity issues that require probing, an insistent, unflinching, and penetrating search for meaning.

Choosing to be free of kids is one. The other, equally heretical place I find myself, is agnostic nontheism. Sometimes I find nontheism nice, clinical, without the confrontational tone or Communist baggage of 'atheist'. Other times, I welcome confrontation- it's fun to drop the "A" word when faced with a Christianists (think Islamist- those who hijack their faith to oppress others and justify violence, as opposed to a moderate, peace-seeking, neighbor-loving Christian).

Anyway, both positions- childfree and godfree- involve some inevitable degree of negativity. I can dodge 'childless', which implies lack; but how to say I don't want children, I am happy without children, children are not necessary for my happiness...without a negative? Godless agnosticism is easier, because when one feels rationality opposes superstition one can assert a positive belief in scientifically verifiable reality, in reason, in secular wisdom. But both positions are vulnerable to nihilism, especially as I mentioned as their constituents get together and vent in bitch sessions resulting from the emotional stress of being denigrated. It's like any other minority; you do spend some time reacting instead of acting. Forgive us, and don't misunderstand us. I will grant the same benefit-of-the-doubt to my over-zealous theist neighbors.

At any rate, we all have to get along. I'm not leaving, neither are my Jesus-enslaved neighbors. Same for the Israelis and Palestinians. You can lob rockets to try to scare the Jews into the sea, you can turn Gaza into a mini-Darfur, but in the final analysis you need to share. We all need to share. And it starts with respect...so, fellow childfree and godfree beings, while it would be nice to convert everyone to our way of thinking it will not happen, and it would be boring- I don't want to imagine a world where Filipinos don't crucify themselves every spring. It's colorful.

A kind friend of faith suggested that having kids would restore my trust in the universe. I can see where he is coming from in that there are many fears, about myself and our world, that contribute to my decision to not make such a commitment. To reproduce would necessarily entail letting go of those fears, relaxing the psychic sphincter and jumping off the cliff, impaling oneself with willing abandon on the dildo-like spire of parenthood. It is the same way veterans and their families are easily sucked into unquestioning nationalism- once you put your ass on the line for something, once you throw yourself to the wind, you need to believe that everything will somehow be ok because you are certainly no longer in control....which is another compelling reason to have a god, so that you can say that someone is in control. The uncertainty of chaos, and the notion that there is no meaning or purpose, causes most people an existential discomfort. This- not God's plan- is our real challenge in a material world. To find, to create meaning and good will from the pile of shit we have inherited (and continue to add to) and the thin air wafting over it.

I know blogs and bulletin boards and emails are supposed to be short, easily digestible- but fuck the (nonexistent) reader. I decided long ago that I write for me, as a journal for my own amusement, as a clarifying tool to visualize my life's direction, as a vent. I have to keep this in mind to avoid involving my ego or pandering to an audience- the only downside being that the more time you spend with your own ideas, and your own computer, the harder it is to keep your true ideas from slipping out of your lips- a workplace and marriage hazard, I can tell you. Few people want to know what you are really thinking, especially not right when you think it. Comedians shoot from the hip. Husbands should not, because self-restraint, good timing and calculated servitude are the only way to survive. Henpecking is a woman's right. Each peck is a kiss of love. Adjust your perceptions. Told you this was cheaper than therapy! Anyway, back to gods.

Last observation: National Geographic has been following the depletion of the Amazon for decades. They note that indigenous areas of Brazil (e.g. Xingu) are among the best preserved, due to religious reverence for nature. This, I think is the one form of religion that does ring true to me- that nature, its most amazing expression in the life force (read this reseach about plant/insect and plant/plant communication) suggest not to me an all-knowing designer, but nonetheless amazing forces that have evolved our delicate, interlocking world. And this world, and those forces, are worthy of respect and fear. So, as in the civil rights movement, some forms of religion can be useful for organizing social behavior. I suspect this is also why humans have music- to aid in social organization. Deep shit, wade right in.

New year, yeah, wha-ever. The seasons are cyclical and that's enough for me. My neighbor said she was going to lay low due to people shooting their guns off- seems it isn't just a tradition among the tribes of Iraq.

A bunch of robins descended on me garden today, that marks something. But here is the obligatory year-end roundup: Frist, Delay, Haggard, Santorum, Rumsfeld- finally rid of ye! Like a bout of food sickness, I feel like I've been vomiting for ages and I can't believe how good I feel that the corner has finally been turned. To hear Bush say we aren't winning (even if qualified by we aren't losing) is on the one hand simply spin, but on the other the left hook of reality connecting with the chin of a bully.

Bombs over Bangkok, that's a shitty way to ring it in. They immediately say the Muslims weren't involved, to lower tensions, but I'll be watching. Nobody dead, anyway. Speaking of which, let's bring out our dead.

President Ford, Saddam Hussein, James Brown. Don't know anything about the first, nobody will miss the second much- well, ok some Sunni Arabs are still convinced he was their man, and he did decently by the economy and education if you didn't cross him, plus he wasn't a messianic towelhead- did I say that? But then, most folks miss the stability he enforced. The last, however, the Godfather of Soul, is a real loss. Say what you will about the PCP and domestic violence, the man was a poet, a true student of the school of hard knocks, a pioneer of Black Power and, need I say it, a Sex Machine. His grooves infected my white father, re-infected Africa, from whence they derived their roots, and it's a shame. Rumor in a local barber shop was that Al Sharpton was going to cut his hair to mark the passing of one of the great Geri-curl pompadours of all-time.

For reasons relating to the vital originality of black (or brown if you prefer America, I will also report that other talk of the barbershop included a swapping of local slang, still in its seminal stage- "hoonin", the action of driving on a freeway, derived from the onomatopeia of wheels at high speed...which was answered with "get hat", the act of leaving a gathering which is, of course, marked by getting and donning one's hat. Neither of these, too my knowledge, has yet caught fire- perhaps mention among high rollers could place such coinage in a key rap tune, but you heard it here first.

For no reason at all, I also recall months ago talking to a friend whose granddad lived in a sod house in S. Dakota. When deep snow buried them- and, I hear this works during dust storms- they would tie a rope to themselves so that they could find their way back from the outhouse. She mentioned that and I asked whereabouts, having seen the Badlands and the Black Hills, and I said something I am apt to like, wasn't that Lakota land? And the look that crossed her face was like the sound of a Marine locking and loading, or the howl of a drunk crowd of Okies at a Merle Haggard concert. White pride hackles full mast. And I don't get it!

It does no violence to the memory of our forebears to acknowledge that they could have done better. History is ostensibly useful in that we can examine and avoid some things we look back on and see were wrong- Trail of Tears, smallpox blankets are good examples. I refuse, incidentally to eat at a restaurant calling itself CLAIM JUMPER. Anyway, to say that our ancestors were the products of their culture, of their era, and to admit that in those times and places legislated racism was part of the landscape, and one which they benefitted from, this does them no dishonor. We are not saying they should have known better, they should have done differently. Even I, whose Quaker ancestors dealt fairly with natives under Willy Penn and then helped slaves escape in the Underground Railroad- I could walk off guilt free, even compared to some of my black neighbors whose free black ancestors had slaves themselves. But I acknowledge the social construction of race and the benefits my family derived/s. I know the whole Republican shtick: my ancestors worked hard, they suffered, it was tough to be a pioneer, they risked their lives for the betterment of their families in a lawless and dangerous land (all statements that, incidentally, remind me of the situation of undocumented Mexicans). But all the same, the land they were able to claim was not available to blacks. It came from natives. The mortgages that were opened up after WWII instituted redlining by the Federal government and created the suburb/ghetto split we all recognize- the 'wrong side of the tracks'. These laws and patterns were unfair, and our ancestors benefitted from this, did they not? The irritation caused by mentioning facts, by rounding out the historical account of our brave grandfathers with a bit of the dark underbelly, this is the least we can do. Those who want to live with unblemished heroes are in denial of our humanity- that which makes us all less tha perfect, prone to err, and products of our time and culture. It is why you can sit with senior citizens from England, who are ostensibly speaking English, and not have a clue what they are on about half the time. They drop a reference, you don't relate. You drop one, they haven't the foggiest. Our myopia is forgivable...and we need not be apologetic in accepting the facts. But to see them buried in period re-enactments that glorify the petticoat with a token savage on the side, I'd rather not buy a ticket to that museum at all. But the tension of that moment, when I insulted her granddad, haunts me- I intended no harm yet I am stuck dodging the guiltof our collective historical white man's burden. Not it!

I'd rather stay home and stew in a broth of beer and my own bile, trying to discern if the nearby explosions are fireworks, firearms, or pissed-off Muslims.