Yuletide Greetings

I try so hard to please them.

Sins of the Fathers

                                     

Dear Doctors Everywhere

Dear Doctors of every persuasion (and the people they are treating),

If, when, or before you prescribe amlodipine besylate for someone's hypertension, please google the side effects which are widely documented.  Then you won't have to refer that person to:

an orthopod,

a dermatologist,

an oral surgeon,

a gastroenterologist,

a psychiatrist,

an optometrist, 

and

a cardiologist,

to treat, with further multiple prescriptions and/or treatments, for any or all of the vast number of side effects.

Image source:  generic google images

Problem Solved

1.  Google the word taqiiya.
      Never mind.  I will do it for you.


 "Taqiyya is an Islamic juridical term whose shifting meaning relates to when a Muslim is allowed, under Sharia law, to lie. A concept whose meaning has varied significantly among Islamic sects, scholars, countries, and political regimes, it nevertheless is one of the key terms used by recent anti-Muslim polemicists. 

"Muslim scholars teach that Muslims should generally be truthful to each other, unless the purpose of lying is to "smooth over differences."

There are two forms of lying to non-believers that are permitted under certain circumstances, taqiyya and kitman. These circumstances are typically those that advance the cause of Islam - in some cases by gaining the trust of non-believers in order to draw out their vulnerability and defeat them." 

2.  Watch the movie "Thirteen Hours".

They do not even delve into the part where Ambassador Stevens is cattle prodded in the genitals. But I will refresh your memory.

Warning: Horrible image follows so don't look at it if you are squeamish.  Some say it is fake. Let us pray that be true.

3.  Google taqiyyah.

4.  Stop being charitable toward muslims.  Why do you expect them to know what Christian Charity even is?

5.  Do something.The world is laughing at us like we are dancing monkeys on a stick.

6.  Stop letting yourself be a dancing monkey on a stick'

By the way, you can apply for a FOID card on line.

Further:  I am an islamophobe.

So there. . .

Semper Fi.

BOOM!

“I don’t think they’re gaining strength,” Obama responded. “What is true is that from the start, our goal has been first to contain and we have contained them. They have not gained ground in Iraq, and in Syria they’ll come in, they’ll leave, but you don’t see this systemic march by ISIL across the terrain.”

Obama said this to George Stephanopoulos Friday morning.  Was it delusion, stupidity, a trigger?  ISIS is pouring across the world. We have ISIS training camps in Illinois and no one does anything about it. How can he possibly believe we have contained them? And, if he doesn't know it or believe it, it is one more nationally broadcast lie to America. What happened in Paris can happen here at any minute. Think about that every time you walk in the door of a mall or a theater. The only difference will be someone in the crowd of US citizens will be armed.

Harrassment By Any Other Name

When I was in college, I was a member of a much ridiculed minority. One consisting of only two percent of the world's population. At my institution the percentage was even lower. As a matter of fact, I only recall 3 other members of this minority in all my years spent there. I was constantly being approached by people remarking on my condition. I went to the Dean, Lamping was his name.  He was dating a grade school class mate of mine, but they broke up. I better leave her name out of this. Anyway, I asked for a "safe place" where those of us sharing this condition  could congregate without being "hit on". That is what they called it in those times. You were being "hit on" or "hawked", not harrassed. So when I made my request the dean said, "Bag ass, Red."

Pope Redefines Charity

The head of the Roman Catholic Church, of which I was formerly a holy card carrying member, announced today, barely able to contain his utter glee, that the commonly used word"charity" has been redefined. Formerly equated with good deeds, as in Christian Charity or the well known Catholic Charities, the word's primary meaning has been altered to "blackmail", announced the infallible head of one of the world's larger and more respected religions. 

Official decree attached. 

Any non-adherence to the new doctrine will qualify as the type of sin known as "mortal".

http://rightwingnews.com/democrats/pope-declares-that-us-churches-should-lose-tax-exemption-unless-they-take-in-muslim-refugees/

Photo attribution:  https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CAYQjB1qFQoTCKyh88zPgcgCFcMcPgodGTUCJQ&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.pocketfullofliberty.com%2Fis-pope-francis-a-liberal-a-protestants-perspective%2F&psig=AFQjCNHmPsCdi5yNEYpm9LKFIPbHzkTYww&ust=1442700172077629

Morning Glories

It took three years  to get back a  blue one. They self seed and cross pollinate too much.  I have planted only blue for three years. I hope this will be a blue vine. Thrilled I am.

SEE WHAT YOU ARE SAYING?

The Spectrum of Bitterness -- part four

"The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in '68 and he told me. . . "

                                                                           Joni Mitchell

Last night I spent about three hours on a three -way, (don't get your hopes up. . .) cell phone, voice and text message discussion.  A person close to me called.  They were in distress half-way across the country from me.  I spoke and texted with all three members of this debacle, until my wi-fi finally said, "Fuck this." and gave up the ghost.

Among other things, I was told pieces of family history that a person had told another person that were part enhancement, part disremembering , and part hog wash.  I dealt with tears, lies, condemnations, praise, laughter, pleading, drunkenness and despair. This morning I was texted that every thing was hunky dory and they were going to experiment with one of the pieces of advice (Not the one where I said shut the fuck up) and see how that worked out.

I responded, since they were all in search of emotional peace of some sort and none of them had a handy firearm, that the texter should tell one certain member of the triad that I find it very difficult to text while my tears are pouring over the keyboard. I pretty much felt like I was run over by a truck.

It isn't like this same horrible blood-letting drama hasn't unfolded on at least three other ocasions, word for word. No. This was all new, fresh wounds and never before experienced pain and anguish.   Remind me to press record call the next time it happens.

One of the persons, near and dear to me, is very well known to react, or should I say 'lose her shit' over specific issues that this unnamed person does not care to deal with at that moment, which is 99% of the moments in that person's life.  So I am hoping that some of these people will soon learn not to rock that boat, or pull the tail of that tiger, or poke that hornet's nest. Of course I admonished one and all that it would be very difficult work to even reach 50/50 compromises on these hot button issues and they all agreed that they would whole-heartedly make that effort. Again.

I am thinking of ordering a t-shirt that says, "I am not Ann Landers."  but no one knows who that is anymore.  I am a rather socially solitary person and I cannot figure out how I end up in the middle of these things.  After each one of these crises has passed, if I dare say, "So, how's it going" or "So, what's new?" I usually get the "Go away, you meddlesome bitch" sneer.

My brothers were feuding for a good many years.  I felt like a frigging ping-pong ball.  They actually, were they to accept an inquiry, could neither of them remember what the feud was about. The demise of our beloved father caused them to put the conflict aside and be "brothers" again. This, of course, since I am not only the middle child, but also an ignorant female whose life experience with dealing with  aging and dying parents and rest home bills, etc. counts for naught, means the ping- pong table was folded up and put in the crawl space, and this ping-pong ball was immediately relegated to a dusty corner of the "high, high" shelf. And, since I have had many a year to develop certain scars and calouses, I just don't give a shit.  I am just me.

It isn't even reality.  Everything that I experience takes place only in my brain, a beautiful garden where I am very content.  Lots of weeds, but I know how to get rid of them. I am quite capable of generating a colorful alternate history. (Which any of you that wish to, can delve into.  Google me. Cherry pick from the reality and the fiction. Whatever suits you.)

"No man is an island."  That's baloney.  I am an island and if you are on it, be it ever so briefly, it is because I allowed it.

And Richard died, so I don't have to deal with that anymore either.

PATRIOTISM

To night I went to the most glorious fireworks display at Great Lakes Naval Station.  The xanax kept me from having a panic attack because I genuinely  believed that ISIS could launch an RPG into the crowd from some cabin cruiser off shore, where many gather in their boats to watch the show.

But at each surge of emotion, each patriotic song, crying  when Toby Keith says "we'll put a boot in their ass" (he would, we could, we should) I  thought "Why are people  trying so hard to fuck up our Nation from inside and out?

And let me add, there were far fewer people there this year. Maybe fear, maybe apathy, maybe more haters. But there were plenty of people there that would stand up next  to you and fight for our country's values. Of course I would. I have nothing to lose.

PHOTO ATTRIBUTION:  www.twincities.com

Maybe The Last One

Tomorrow, celebrate our wonderful Nation's  birthday, joyfully and safely.

United we stand. Divided we fall

DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT IS HAPPENING?

https://m.facebook.com/OfficialRightWingNews

Update

Hope this announcement does not offend any one or trifle with their feelings, but it is serious and important to me which is why I keep forgetting to mention it.

At my last doctor appointment my doctor upgraded me from bipolar disorder to dysthymic condition.  This means I am not crazy anymore. Just a little sad.

Perspective

Tempest in a Tea Pot

Another forced attempt to distract us from what is going on.  Divided we fall.

Big fuss over a flag. How 'bout we forbid ten percent of the displaying of the Confederate Flag?

And, by the way, George Washington owned slaves. I want to say something about pigeons coming home to roost, but probably not politically correct -- a HUGE concern of mine. Not.

Butter

This is an opinion piece, not a paid advertisement or solicited review.

We quite frequently shop at our nearest military commissary.  There are many advantages. Too many years ago, I would always use only Parkay or Imperial margerine as a spread or whatever. I felt other brands were noticably greasy. Then someone mentioned that margerine was one molecule away from being plastic and I heard from another person that butter was "natural". At that time butter was considerably  more expensive, but I made the change and have never veered from my choice.

While shopping one day at the  commissary  (they often carry locally unfamiliar brands) I noticed  Challenge butter. It was packaged by the pound in two different shapes. The conventional stick and a short chubbier stick. The pound of shorties must have been priced as an 8 oz. package because it was, and still is, cheaper than the conventional  size. Thus we became Challenge users. We noticed immediately that it tasted wonderful, used as spread or in baking. I make Baker's one-bowl brownies and you can totally experience the difference.

Then I began to hear of Kerry Gold. One person said she was a strict vegan except for Kerry Gold. I ran out and had to borrow a pack of Kerry Gold from my daughter. It is an unnatural shade of yellow that is surely  enhanced unless they feed their cows only carrots. It is prohibitively expensive and it has no taste experience, much less delicious or "better".  I feel like I am changing a passage in the Bible. Kerry Gold fans are rabid. But Wal Mart generic tastes better and, hands down, Challenge wins the taste war. It is delicious. The acid test is melting it for popcorn and it cannot be beaten. You can just take my word for it cuz if you ever try it, you will know for yourself.

Loss of Innocence

I had a friend with a daughter that was born with a very rare syndrome. She was very charming, cute, friendly and, of course, naïve. He worried so what would become of her after his death. Her death preceded his, so he was always able to protect her, as was her brother.

I am sickened by this Josh Duggar hullabaloo. Not by what Josh did. I grew up on the west side of Chicago and I well remember what games 8 and 9 year olds played. No details, folks, but yesterday I did not fall off the turnip truck.

What sickens me are the comments. People are getting their heads lopped off in Syria, and all these  people can talk about is who "diddled" (that word is used over and over) who. These are people who slept dorm style. Nineteen kids. Girls at one end of the upstairs, boys at the other. Not even separate  cabins like at summer camp, where fooling around went  on like crazy. I was on a Catholic religious retreat and we all climbed out the window every night.

The commentors wax on about what else someone might have done, or who may have done something to who.  It honestly sounds like they are getting "aroused" by it. And they definitely are playing one-up-manship.

I am disgusted that there  is pin point focus  on this. According to what I have read, everyone in the world was supposed to be a virgin in thought, word, and action  until an appointed official spoke certain words. And according to those same people, to a man/woman, they were.

I am not praising hypocrisy or deceit. I do know what little kids can come up with in their  curiosity. And , according to someone close to me it was the little girl that taught the game. On the block where I lived for many years, it was also a girl that instigated it. And, believe me, every little boy then tried to get others to play. One boy,  a few years older than I, even said, "You don't have to be afraid of me."

Examine your conscience. Make your own moral peace within your self, and stop feeding this titillating crap to the masses.

Store bottled water.

RAPE AS TROPE

I am privileged. I have never found myself in a rapeable situation. But, more importantly, I have never allowed myself to be in that kind of situation. And let me tell you, I have been in  some doozies. Like stopping random people on the south side of the City of Chicago, near 24th and Rockwell actually, asking them how to shift gears on a manual volkswagen cuz my boyfriend is passed out drunk.

Here is the thing. A certain well-known blogger and author did a column on rape being used unnecessarily as a plot device. This is stupid. Rape is not a plot device. If it is in the story it is to authenticate the historical period. It is not a trope. It is a reality. And to avoid talking about it is disingenuous. So maybe it wasn't used as a plot device. Maybe it was a somewhat strained attempt to introduce a reality into the story. Or, we could have people saying, "Gee, that was a swell story. It is nice that people didn't rape or even know what it was in those times."

And how profound is this?  "Truth in fiction is about authenticity."  What the fuck does that mean? Since we are trying to redefine everything else in our culture, at least semantically, are we going to redefine "fiction"or "truth" and/or "authenticity". I mean,  I have seriously wasted my whole long life if, all along, I have been looking for truth and authenticity in my  fiction reading. Fuck you, Raggedy Ann.

Comments closed, Chuck? You're not the boss of my comments.