I’ve got my ranties all in a bunch today. Somebody stop me. Or not.
I’m also about to slag and mercilessly delete half my inbound emails without reading them. Sorry, everyone who cares if I read them.
I’m just feeling rage and hopelessness and general irritation depending on which second you approach. Don’t worry, it’s not about you.
I’m irritated the politicians try to oversimplify and the news media are trying to sell their favorite candidates. I’m worried some idiot (here read “no Muslims, Mexicans, or fat ugly chicks”) or worse, someone who’s had nothing but conspiracy and cover-up her whole life (and a husband who couldn’t keep it covered up) is going to get into the presidency.
The politicians, both Democratic and Republican, all seem to want to lump “people with mental illness” into a group of “people who should not be allowed to have guns.” This is offensive and very upsetting. They want a fucking REGISTRY, for fucks sake, of “people with mental illness,” so they can deprive us of our civil rights. I’ve said before, not all people with mental illnesses are lunatics bent on shooting their neighbors, friends, families, employers, places of business or random victims.
Criminals don’t have mental illnesses, they just like to commit crime. Therefore, if you’re a potential criminal, you may very well find it easier to get a license for a gun than someone with a registered mental illness. This means, if legislation is passed upon them, “people with mental illnesses” are sitting targets not allowed to defend themselves against “criminals with guns.”
I’m irritated there wasn’t more of a fuss when Obama pointed fingers at anyone but his fair home city of Chicago because they have an illegal gun problem there. Indiana is not the problem. Law-abiding citizens in Indiana are not giving crooks from Illinois their guns, nor even selling them, so restricting law abiding citizens isn’t going to have any positive effect; I expect the opposite. The problem is criminals in Chicago are able to obtain illegal guns by criminal means. Further, the problem includes the law-abiding citizens aren’t allowed to have guns to shoot back when a gang-banger is aiming to shoot someone’s little baby dead while driving by. Because officially, they can’t have guns. They have to wait for Chicago PD to come by, with a hearse to pick up the body.
I’m further ranty because today’s a holiday and I have to work. Is it a holiday or isn’t it? My company says “it’s a holiday, but just not for you or people in your department.” So I know there are at least 2 other people in another office working. And they labor hard and long to not pay extra whenever they can put a legal spin on it and tell me it’s overtime but not “qualified overtime” so they don’t have to pay me extra for dragging my ass out of my warm bed and into my frozen car and driving in to the office. On a holiday.
They say “money talks, B.S. walks.” Wish I’d won the lottery so I could call myself B.S. God knows no one else would own up to it. But in truth, I think, whoever “they” are, they got it back assward. Or not mixed right. On the one candidate’s side, she’s got the BS and it’s talking. And on the other candidate’s side, he’s got the BS AND the money and they’re both talking. And I wish they’d both shut the hell up.
Back in the day, I’d like to daydream that the village idiot was labelled and not allowed to talk too long or handle important things. I’d like to daydream that the secretly crafty person was exposed as a cheating traitorous liar and thrown in jail but I don’t think that ever happens. But today, they throw the idiot money and hand the idiot the master key and the microphone. I’m not sure which is worse: an openly stupid person, an openly crafty person, or a secretly crafty person, and we get all of these kinds in political office somehow.
My pastor, bless his heart, says I feel the way I feel because I’m not spiritually centered. Oh really, is it that simple? Then, oh wise and wonderful one, how shall I center myself? On my reading program that I don’t have time or motivation to complete, on a random spiritual epiphany you’ll swear is coming but hasn’t in, oh, a decade or two or maybe three, on prayer that I do all the time and don’t feel I’m getting the answers I want because I’m spiritually off-center? Oh there’s a grand circle of spiritual shit to be stuck in, isn’t it? And if it’s a circle that explains my emotional and mental sine wave, and periodic dips into the black holes of fuck-everything-everybody-and-everywhere-including-me,” doesn’t it? It’s unfortunate that it’s a lie that what you don’t know can’t hurt you. Because what others don’t know can definitely hurt me- ignorance of my mental capacity (highly intelligent, very kindhearted, tries to get along with others, not a lunatic, only a little bit batshit) can cause powerful people to make unfavorable decisions about me over which I have no control, and what I don’t know (how to get rich and escape the general infestation quickly, how to succeed at one set of goals while feeling chained to another set of oars and oar-locks, how to help myself well and then help others, how to convince powerful people who wouldn’t give me the time of day that I’m right about everything)…definitely hurts
I wonder if I only think I’m batshit because I’m stuck here and the rest of the world IS…
I’m also ranty because I’m aware that I’m not making any progress toward any personal goals. I’m distracted half the time, and the rest I don’t have the energy to make it. Back in the ages of history, people who were creative were not just tolerated, they were celebrated, enjoyed, patronized, enabled to pursue their craft.
What I need is a patron. But I’m not well-known enough to attract that kind of money. Or a jail cell, but I’m not secretly crafty enough for that to ever happen. Plus, I have a conscience.
Stealer’s Wheel got it right, there’s “Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am stuck in the middle with you.” But at least my misery loves your company.