Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Doing The Most Good
There is nothing that I hate more than religious commercials at Christmas time. It seems like there is always a religious organization or a political action committee out there that takes advantage of the backdrop of the holiday. I saw a commercial a couple of days ago that, at first, I thought was no different. But something struck me as odd. It was displaying what seemed to be Bible verses. The first one was Peter 10:17. I knew immediately that it didn't exist. There is no such thing as the book of Peter. There is either First Peter or Second Peter. Residual memories of my brainwashing. I continued to watch:
I was speechless. Finally, a religious organization that was preaching salvation, and not by a heavenly means. This is a group that is "saving" thousands of people a day. People of all faiths, creeds, and colors.
Speaking of which, something struck me in that commercial. One lady said, "When I was stoned". Obviously, this is conduct that the church and the Bible looks down upon. They helped her anyway. This could not be any more Christ like in my opinion.
As a Jehovah's Witness, we never donated to any organization that had ties to another religious organization. We never accepted donations from such organizations, either. We also did not donate or receive donations from the Red Cross, because of their work with blood transfusions. When the tsunami hit Indonesia a few years ago, I donated to the Red Cross and made a blood donation as well. My mother made a donation to her favorite charity: the Watchtower organization. She sent money to have help her "brothers and sisters" in need. She did the same a couple of years earlier when a massive earthquake hit Kobe, Japan.
I was always taught not to treat people differently because they were a different skin color. It was acceptable, though, to treat them differently, or to deny them assistance because of the god they chose to worship, or worse, NOT to worship. That's really a sad way to live your life. I promised myself that I would never be that way once I left that mess. I also promised myself that I would raise my child to give to everyone that needed help, regardless of whether you agreed with them or not. That's what I liked about this commercial.
My little girl is only 19 months old and she looks forward to going to Walmart so she can put a dollar into the little red kettle. Once the holidays are over, we will find another way to encourage her to get excited about giving.
The holiday season is almost over. People will still be hungry in February, in July, and in October. The bell ringers may not be in front of Walmart after next week, but don't forget the Salvation Army. They do a great job at saving people. They do it without requirements. They do it because they want to help. Please do the same. Merry Christmas.
Chapter & Verse from Eastern Michigan Division on Vimeo.
I was speechless. Finally, a religious organization that was preaching salvation, and not by a heavenly means. This is a group that is "saving" thousands of people a day. People of all faiths, creeds, and colors.
Speaking of which, something struck me in that commercial. One lady said, "When I was stoned". Obviously, this is conduct that the church and the Bible looks down upon. They helped her anyway. This could not be any more Christ like in my opinion.
As a Jehovah's Witness, we never donated to any organization that had ties to another religious organization. We never accepted donations from such organizations, either. We also did not donate or receive donations from the Red Cross, because of their work with blood transfusions. When the tsunami hit Indonesia a few years ago, I donated to the Red Cross and made a blood donation as well. My mother made a donation to her favorite charity: the Watchtower organization. She sent money to have help her "brothers and sisters" in need. She did the same a couple of years earlier when a massive earthquake hit Kobe, Japan.
I was always taught not to treat people differently because they were a different skin color. It was acceptable, though, to treat them differently, or to deny them assistance because of the god they chose to worship, or worse, NOT to worship. That's really a sad way to live your life. I promised myself that I would never be that way once I left that mess. I also promised myself that I would raise my child to give to everyone that needed help, regardless of whether you agreed with them or not. That's what I liked about this commercial.
My little girl is only 19 months old and she looks forward to going to Walmart so she can put a dollar into the little red kettle. Once the holidays are over, we will find another way to encourage her to get excited about giving.
The holiday season is almost over. People will still be hungry in February, in July, and in October. The bell ringers may not be in front of Walmart after next week, but don't forget the Salvation Army. They do a great job at saving people. They do it without requirements. They do it because they want to help. Please do the same. Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Update
Taking a couple of days off. Trying to compile a couple of lists for the end of the year. Looking for batteries for the baby's Christmas presents before we wrap them. Putting the finishing touches on a couple of Christmas presents that I am making. One of them is being ESPECIALLY DIFFICULT. When I finish it, though, I will be sure to post pictures. If it is as cool as what I am envisioning, it's going to be pretty damn awesome. New calling, perhaps?
Eating like crazy..the new medication I am on is making me gain weight like a mofo. So far, 18 pounds in just the first week. But, I'll get to that at another time. In the meantime, enjoy these next couple of days if you can. Try not to kill anyone if you have to go to Walmart.
Eating like crazy..the new medication I am on is making me gain weight like a mofo. So far, 18 pounds in just the first week. But, I'll get to that at another time. In the meantime, enjoy these next couple of days if you can. Try not to kill anyone if you have to go to Walmart.
Friday, December 18, 2009
RIP, Roy E. Disney
Roy E. Disney, nephew of Walt Disney, died 12/16/2009, from cancer at the age of 79. Other than Walt himself, Roy was possibly the single greatest influence and had the biggest impact on the Disney Company. He was a writer and a producer, but made his presence known as a shareholder more than anywhere else.
In 1984, he led a successful campaign to boot Walt's son in law from the company, and again, in 2004, he led a shareholder mutiny against Michael Eisner. With the removal of Eisner, he helped steer Disney back to it's roots. He was also instrumental in bringing the parks' focus back on the magic and wonder that his uncle Walt had envisioned over a half century ago.
Thank you Roy, for keeping his dream alive. You will be missed.
In 1984, he led a successful campaign to boot Walt's son in law from the company, and again, in 2004, he led a shareholder mutiny against Michael Eisner. With the removal of Eisner, he helped steer Disney back to it's roots. He was also instrumental in bringing the parks' focus back on the magic and wonder that his uncle Walt had envisioned over a half century ago.
Thank you Roy, for keeping his dream alive. You will be missed.
What English Sounds Like To Foreigners
There is a video floating around the internet at the moment that has gone viral in the last couple of days. It is an Italian music video from 1972 that is actually titled 'Prisencolinensinainciusol', but has appropriately been renamed 'What English Sounds Like To Foreigners'.
The composer of this song intentionally wanted to write a song with English words that made no sense, to show what the typical rock/pop song sounded like to people outside the United States. I must say, he did a fantastic job. Thanks to the magic of the internet, we have the clip today:
It reminds me of a story my mother told me a few years ago. She was on vacation in Russia. She said every 10 minutes on the radio, Gwen Stefani's Hollaback Girl came on. Everywhere you went, girls would be singing that song in broken English. Of course, they had no idea what the words meant or what they were even saying. The song just sounded cool. For those of you that doubt that it's really English being spoken in this song, I happened to find a list of the lyrics. They are 95% English. Complete gibberish, but English nonetheless:
here it goes:
We been sayin in the shoes raw hole in bleen the hole rape maybe it the color boss dime
Writ cheese and I'm a get cold baby sustain yeeeeeah boobs Joe Wowooah!
We been sayin in the shoes raw hole in bleen the hole rape maybe it the color boss dime
Whether its the same and ain't you the copy of steam of you never traveled knobber judge a gob diva shehjean
You the gobbernaught juice and i pray for not sure a how a hubba just get a globe a no time
All we did was just stand and light the shoes a globa man you the
Because to the match caught in the frang of yours
All the time baby
My eyes lie sense-lick let me goose the poor with diesel. EYES!
You can call me say-the-what crazy call me next to that chooser. Alright!
My eyes lied senseless and the golds will go with bees well. Eyes!
Bees in all the god choose well. Alright.
Well all she know sleepin in the gibbon the seein 'till im just a
Normal joff hobo have a contained like free as to go.
We been seein in the center of the shoes a come and bend cause there's too many cars a double four a why a cry a can't stand.
My eyes might chance land and hips will go with blazer. Eyezzz.
You a car a maidden say what. Freezing common ace in at twos on alright.
You the ace you don't feel as get up a dawn as people the dance a you like pick your own.
My eyes lied senseless and I guess they go with bees well. Eyes.
You can call me say-the-what freezing call me next to that two song. Alright!
You the ace you dont feel as get up a dawn as people the dance you like pickin your own.
I SMELL A GRAMMY.....
The composer of this song intentionally wanted to write a song with English words that made no sense, to show what the typical rock/pop song sounded like to people outside the United States. I must say, he did a fantastic job. Thanks to the magic of the internet, we have the clip today:
It reminds me of a story my mother told me a few years ago. She was on vacation in Russia. She said every 10 minutes on the radio, Gwen Stefani's Hollaback Girl came on. Everywhere you went, girls would be singing that song in broken English. Of course, they had no idea what the words meant or what they were even saying. The song just sounded cool. For those of you that doubt that it's really English being spoken in this song, I happened to find a list of the lyrics. They are 95% English. Complete gibberish, but English nonetheless:
here it goes:
We been sayin in the shoes raw hole in bleen the hole rape maybe it the color boss dime
Writ cheese and I'm a get cold baby sustain yeeeeeah boobs Joe Wowooah!
We been sayin in the shoes raw hole in bleen the hole rape maybe it the color boss dime
Whether its the same and ain't you the copy of steam of you never traveled knobber judge a gob diva shehjean
You the gobbernaught juice and i pray for not sure a how a hubba just get a globe a no time
All we did was just stand and light the shoes a globa man you the
Because to the match caught in the frang of yours
All the time baby
My eyes lie sense-lick let me goose the poor with diesel. EYES!
You can call me say-the-what crazy call me next to that chooser. Alright!
My eyes lied senseless and the golds will go with bees well. Eyes!
Bees in all the god choose well. Alright.
Well all she know sleepin in the gibbon the seein 'till im just a
Normal joff hobo have a contained like free as to go.
We been seein in the center of the shoes a come and bend cause there's too many cars a double four a why a cry a can't stand.
My eyes might chance land and hips will go with blazer. Eyezzz.
You a car a maidden say what. Freezing common ace in at twos on alright.
You the ace you don't feel as get up a dawn as people the dance a you like pick your own.
My eyes lied senseless and I guess they go with bees well. Eyes.
You can call me say-the-what freezing call me next to that two song. Alright!
You the ace you dont feel as get up a dawn as people the dance you like pickin your own.
I SMELL A GRAMMY.....
Tourette's/PTSD Update
There have been some ups and downs in regards to my mental and physical health in the last week. First, I have noticed a steady decrease in tics since being placed on Invega by my neurologist. So far, so good. The nights of restlessness and pacing back and forth seem to be a thing of the past as well. Most nights I am still only getting 2-3 hours of sleep. I wake up anywhere between 3:10 and 3:45 in the morning. Sometimes, I am able to force myself back to sleep until a little after 5am, but most mornings, I am up for the day by then. It's a strange feeling. Feels like you're the only one in the world. No one you can call. No one online. No one you can chat with on Facebook. Just you, your laptop, and your boredom for 5 hours until the baby wakes up. You never get used to that.
Since seeing my therapist the other day, I've been having a hard time with my PTSD. I've been having more flashbacks than I've been able to count. It has been extremely tough. Something in particular has been bothering me that I haven't thought about in over a decade. It's very hard to discuss, embarrassing in fact, but I have to get it off my chest.
From the time I was in my early teens, until I was in my early twenties, roughly 8-10 years, I had a problem with bed wetting. This wasn't the occasional piddle on the sheets at night. This was something that happened every single night. I would wake up soaked in my own urine, and would have to change my sheets, find towels to soak up the mattress, and start a load of laundry to wash my underwear, sweats, pajamas(whatever I was wearing to bed that night). It was routine. I must have wet the bed thousands of times over the years. I could never figure out why.
It was the ultimate embarrassment. I wouldn't spend the night at any of my friend's houses in fear it would happen there. My family was afraid to take me on vacation. When on vacation, I would be so nervous, I would try to stay up for 3 to 4 days straight. One time I stayed up at Disneyland for 3 days straight. I finally fell asleep the third night. I woke up the next morning with the bed so soaked, my hair was wet. I was so tired, I didn't even wake myself up after wetting the bed multiple times.
I was afraid to fall asleep on the couch at home or in the living room floor. It got to the point where I wouldn't be allowed to drink anything with dinner or afterward. I still would wet the bed. I finally confided with my doctor and was given a prescription to help stop urine production at night. After my first day on the medication, I stopped wetting the bed.
The thing that is bothering me now is this, did that medication just give me a placebo effect? Was this a psychological condition and not a medical one? I was on that medication for a little over a month and haven't taken it since. That was 12 years ago. Could the reason I was wetting the bed have been because of the abuse and not because of "urine production". Was this all a way for my brain to deal with trauma. My brain basically did the same thing with my bowels back in 2000 and again this year and we just now realized that was part of the PTSD. Why wouldn't my bladder do the same?
The whole idea of this being a possibility is really upsetting me. The trauma of the bed wetting experience itself is devastating. I can't think of anything that can make a teenager feel more alone, more shamed. It's such a personal issue, that even in my mid 30s, I still feel uncomfortable talking about it. The reactions that often come from the parents and siblings often fuel that shame. There is no support. Just finger pointing, giggling, and embarrassment. My mother even made me go into the grocery store to by my own Depends once. There is no support in that.
I am now starting to wonder if, not only was I showing signs of Tourette's as a child, which I am slowly starting to have memories of, but, was I also starting to show symptoms of PTSD as early as my late teens or early twenties. If I have been going untreated for the better part of twenty years, how long will it take me to recover from this? How many hours of therapy will it take to undo the damage that has already been done?
Since seeing my therapist the other day, I've been having a hard time with my PTSD. I've been having more flashbacks than I've been able to count. It has been extremely tough. Something in particular has been bothering me that I haven't thought about in over a decade. It's very hard to discuss, embarrassing in fact, but I have to get it off my chest.
From the time I was in my early teens, until I was in my early twenties, roughly 8-10 years, I had a problem with bed wetting. This wasn't the occasional piddle on the sheets at night. This was something that happened every single night. I would wake up soaked in my own urine, and would have to change my sheets, find towels to soak up the mattress, and start a load of laundry to wash my underwear, sweats, pajamas(whatever I was wearing to bed that night). It was routine. I must have wet the bed thousands of times over the years. I could never figure out why.
It was the ultimate embarrassment. I wouldn't spend the night at any of my friend's houses in fear it would happen there. My family was afraid to take me on vacation. When on vacation, I would be so nervous, I would try to stay up for 3 to 4 days straight. One time I stayed up at Disneyland for 3 days straight. I finally fell asleep the third night. I woke up the next morning with the bed so soaked, my hair was wet. I was so tired, I didn't even wake myself up after wetting the bed multiple times.
I was afraid to fall asleep on the couch at home or in the living room floor. It got to the point where I wouldn't be allowed to drink anything with dinner or afterward. I still would wet the bed. I finally confided with my doctor and was given a prescription to help stop urine production at night. After my first day on the medication, I stopped wetting the bed.
The thing that is bothering me now is this, did that medication just give me a placebo effect? Was this a psychological condition and not a medical one? I was on that medication for a little over a month and haven't taken it since. That was 12 years ago. Could the reason I was wetting the bed have been because of the abuse and not because of "urine production". Was this all a way for my brain to deal with trauma. My brain basically did the same thing with my bowels back in 2000 and again this year and we just now realized that was part of the PTSD. Why wouldn't my bladder do the same?
The whole idea of this being a possibility is really upsetting me. The trauma of the bed wetting experience itself is devastating. I can't think of anything that can make a teenager feel more alone, more shamed. It's such a personal issue, that even in my mid 30s, I still feel uncomfortable talking about it. The reactions that often come from the parents and siblings often fuel that shame. There is no support. Just finger pointing, giggling, and embarrassment. My mother even made me go into the grocery store to by my own Depends once. There is no support in that.
I am now starting to wonder if, not only was I showing signs of Tourette's as a child, which I am slowly starting to have memories of, but, was I also starting to show symptoms of PTSD as early as my late teens or early twenties. If I have been going untreated for the better part of twenty years, how long will it take me to recover from this? How many hours of therapy will it take to undo the damage that has already been done?
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Koala Adoptions
For anyone that liked the idea of the koala adoptions, their website is:
http://www.koalahospital.org.au/adopt/
They are a small operation, so at this point, if you adopt, your paperwork would come back after Christmas. It's $50 a year to adopt, and includes an adoption package which consists of a Certificate of Adoption that has the photo of the adopted koala on the front, the name of the person adopting the koala, the name of the koala and the date of adoption. As well as the Certificate the package also contains a story about the adopted koala, a vinyl sticker with the Koala Hospital's Logo and the words "I Have Adopted A Wild Koala", a colored pamphlet about the Hospital and a booklet about koalas. You can even browse their website and request to adopt a specific koala.
For the person who has everything....or for the person that is impossible to shop for.
http://www.koalahospital.org.au/adopt/
They are a small operation, so at this point, if you adopt, your paperwork would come back after Christmas. It's $50 a year to adopt, and includes an adoption package which consists of a Certificate of Adoption that has the photo of the adopted koala on the front, the name of the person adopting the koala, the name of the koala and the date of adoption. As well as the Certificate the package also contains a story about the adopted koala, a vinyl sticker with the Koala Hospital's Logo and the words "I Have Adopted A Wild Koala", a colored pamphlet about the Hospital and a booklet about koalas. You can even browse their website and request to adopt a specific koala.
For the person who has everything....or for the person that is impossible to shop for.
Donations For A Fair And Balanced Media
Every Christmas, my wife and I try to make a donation to a charity or an organization we believe is making the world a better place. Whether this is a koala refugee center in Australia that is treating wild koalas that have been burned by wildfires there, or perhaps a political organization like the ACLU.
With the buzz this year about Fox News, I decided to do a post about Media Matters for America. It is one of the organizations that is on my short list this year. Here is one of their promos:
Take this time of the year to donate to something you believe in, whether it be the Humane Society, the Salvation Army, or buying some toys for your local Toys For Tots bin. It's the season for giving, but too often we only think about those in our immediate circle.
With the buzz this year about Fox News, I decided to do a post about Media Matters for America. It is one of the organizations that is on my short list this year. Here is one of their promos:
Take this time of the year to donate to something you believe in, whether it be the Humane Society, the Salvation Army, or buying some toys for your local Toys For Tots bin. It's the season for giving, but too often we only think about those in our immediate circle.
Oral Roberts Dies At Age 91
So maybe there is a God, but he's just a little behind. Oral Roberts died last night at age 91. He's survived by his brother Anal, and his sister Vaginal (I've been waiting 20 years to tell that joke). Seriously though, why do the biggest scumbags live the longest? This was the guy in 1987 that went on TV and told the world that God came to him and said that if he didn't have $8 million in donations, he would be called home. He received $9.1 million. Most of the money he received was from elderly men and women on fixed incomes that didn't have anything to give. Next to Madoff, this man is easily the biggest con artist of our generation.
He is also one of the biggest bigots. Him, along with Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, seem to blame all of the worlds problems on the gays. Between the three of them, gays have been blamed for 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, and the 1989 earthquake in San Francisco. You know how they say, "It happens in threes"? Well, speaking on behalf of the gay and lesbian community, can we request the other two please? Dying peacefully at 91 was too good of a way to go for such a hateful man. If there was truly a God in this world, he would have died long ago, long before he was able to hurt the people he has. Long before he was able to pilfer Social Security checks out of the hands of little old ladies. He would have been eaten alive by dogs, torn apart with only scraps for the little birds to fight over. THAT is how I know God does not exist.
Burn in Hell, you son of a bitch.
He is also one of the biggest bigots. Him, along with Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, seem to blame all of the worlds problems on the gays. Between the three of them, gays have been blamed for 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, and the 1989 earthquake in San Francisco. You know how they say, "It happens in threes"? Well, speaking on behalf of the gay and lesbian community, can we request the other two please? Dying peacefully at 91 was too good of a way to go for such a hateful man. If there was truly a God in this world, he would have died long ago, long before he was able to hurt the people he has. Long before he was able to pilfer Social Security checks out of the hands of little old ladies. He would have been eaten alive by dogs, torn apart with only scraps for the little birds to fight over. THAT is how I know God does not exist.
Burn in Hell, you son of a bitch.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
A Stranger Gets To Determine How Sick I Am
Yesterday, I received a letter from Social Security. I have an appointment on January 4th, with a doctor I've never seen before, to determine if I am "disabled enough" with my TS and PTSD to qualify for Social Security benefits. Upon reading the letter, I instantly went into a panic attack. A half hour exam with a stranger could determine the rest of my life in some regards. It's a scary thought.
With some of my doctor's, I had been working with them for close to a year before I was diagnosed with PTSD. That was after years of putting all of these weird unrelated symptoms together. Prior to that, I was told I had everything from Crohn's disease to a gluten allergy to the fact that I was lactose intolerant because I got sick to my stomach when I was stressed or put in an uncomfortable situation. There were times at work, before I left, when I spent four hours out of my eight our day in the bathroom. Now that I'm not working, I don't get sick anymore.
I had to go to three different neurologist, including one at the Mayo Clinic, before I was diagnosed with Tourette's. My current doctor is one of the most respected neurologists in the United States. His resident was the doctor at Mayo that originally misdiagnosed me in May. Traditionally, Tourette's is diagnosed in patients in adolescence and not at 34. I didn't notice my first tics until age 30. It was originally believed that I had adult onset Tourette's Syndrome, which is generally unheard of. Since my diagnosis, I have had memories of childhood tics, so I realize this wasn't an adult onset disorder, but rather, decided to manifest itself full force in connection with the PTSD and stresses that were going on at the time. But my point is, it took three doctors to diagnose me. THREE. And Social Security expects someone with no prior knowledge of my situation to make a decision as to my disability within the course of a 30 minute visit. The whole situation really worries me.
With some of my doctor's, I had been working with them for close to a year before I was diagnosed with PTSD. That was after years of putting all of these weird unrelated symptoms together. Prior to that, I was told I had everything from Crohn's disease to a gluten allergy to the fact that I was lactose intolerant because I got sick to my stomach when I was stressed or put in an uncomfortable situation. There were times at work, before I left, when I spent four hours out of my eight our day in the bathroom. Now that I'm not working, I don't get sick anymore.
I had to go to three different neurologist, including one at the Mayo Clinic, before I was diagnosed with Tourette's. My current doctor is one of the most respected neurologists in the United States. His resident was the doctor at Mayo that originally misdiagnosed me in May. Traditionally, Tourette's is diagnosed in patients in adolescence and not at 34. I didn't notice my first tics until age 30. It was originally believed that I had adult onset Tourette's Syndrome, which is generally unheard of. Since my diagnosis, I have had memories of childhood tics, so I realize this wasn't an adult onset disorder, but rather, decided to manifest itself full force in connection with the PTSD and stresses that were going on at the time. But my point is, it took three doctors to diagnose me. THREE. And Social Security expects someone with no prior knowledge of my situation to make a decision as to my disability within the course of a 30 minute visit. The whole situation really worries me.
One Cool Christmas Light Display
It's being dubbed "Christmas Light Hero", and it's quite impressive. In fact, I have never seen a home display quite like it. I can't imagine how long it took to plan this massive display, let alone set it up. Synced with Eric Johnson's 'Ah Via Musicom' from Guitar Hero III, this display even includes the scrolling, multi-colored buttons on the garage door. Sure to put any video game lover, or music lover for that matter, in the Christmas spirit. Enjoy:
Monday, December 14, 2009
Random Rant
Just a thought related to the last post: Were we really that oblivious to the world when we were kids? I don't remember paying any attention to anything going on in the world around me. I could tell you the president's name and that was about it. I couldn't tell you what was going on in the news. I never watched the news. I never knew about the Iran hostage situation, or the Iran/Contra affair. I remember the Challenger blowing up. I could tell you where I was then. Did the world not matter to us because the U.S. wasn't directly involved? So, it was a "no harm/no foul" type of thing? I'm just curious. Because, as for me, I was clueless back then as to what was going on around me, even when it came to the local news.
And another thing. How on earth did we ever get by without cell phones or watches? You see kids today as young as four or five with a cell phone. I remember riding my bike all day from the time I got up until the time the street light came on outside...no way at all to get in contact with my mom. Sometimes, I would wander miles away from my house. I had no friends. I just rode my bike and maybe play with a kid I ran into along the way. My mom had no idea where I was. I was five or six years old. Who knows what could have happened to me. Were things really safer back then? Were there less instances of kidnapping or child molestation or are they just tracked better today? Are kids smarter today or better informed because of the media?
Are parents today better parents because of technology? Or are they subconsciously righting their parents wrong ways? Some say children are destined to repeat their parents mistakes. Others say that parenthood, not genetics, is the one opportunity to change the course of your family. Only time, and history, will tell.
And another thing. How on earth did we ever get by without cell phones or watches? You see kids today as young as four or five with a cell phone. I remember riding my bike all day from the time I got up until the time the street light came on outside...no way at all to get in contact with my mom. Sometimes, I would wander miles away from my house. I had no friends. I just rode my bike and maybe play with a kid I ran into along the way. My mom had no idea where I was. I was five or six years old. Who knows what could have happened to me. Were things really safer back then? Were there less instances of kidnapping or child molestation or are they just tracked better today? Are kids smarter today or better informed because of the media?
Are parents today better parents because of technology? Or are they subconsciously righting their parents wrong ways? Some say children are destined to repeat their parents mistakes. Others say that parenthood, not genetics, is the one opportunity to change the course of your family. Only time, and history, will tell.
The Decade According To 9 Year Olds
Very interesting video I saw today that I wanted to share. It was actually sad that these kids are nine and have pretty much lived a life without the luxury of not knowing war or terrorism in their lifetime. They're pretty savvy kids. It's amazing to see how far we've come in the way of technology in just a decade. I cannot imagine what the same interview would be like when my daughter is nine or ten:
The decade according to 9-year-olds from allison louie-garcia on Vimeo.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Bigotry In The News 12/13/2009
Brothels in Nevada have just won the legal right to start having male prostitutes as part of their stable. Numerous brothels in the state have been requesting the change for years, but due to language in the health code, it permitted females only until now. You see, the health code required a cervical exam as part of the regular STD testing mandatory for prostitutes, thus barring males. One word...."cervical".
Brothel industry lobbyists..yes, they exist, were fighting this tooth and nail, calling this the "Pearl Harbor" to the industry. In a shocking double standard, they said they worry that introducing males to the prostitution industry in Nevada would sully the reputation of the brothels in the state. Excuse me?!?! You're worried about the reputation of your local pimps and whores because of some gay men. Homophobes never cease to amaze me.
The wording in the health code has added the words or urethra to include the males of the profession. Local brothel owners say that their male workers will have the choice to have sex with either male or female customers, or both, just as their female "employees" do. Vegas in 2008 was the second most visited tourist destination for gay and lesbian vacationers behind New York City. This most recent move is a very smart business business decision to even the playing field with the businesses in the area that have been catering to the straight customer for decades too long, in my opinion.
VIVA LAS VEGAS, HONEY.
You can see the source article from the Las Vegas Sun here. This news is spreading like wildfire amongst the gay and lesbian blogs. In an online poll associated with the linked article, 82% of readers said that they found male prostitutes at brothels "socially acceptable"; much higher than what I was expecting. WAY TO GO, LAS VEGAS SUN READERS!!
Brothel industry lobbyists..yes, they exist, were fighting this tooth and nail, calling this the "Pearl Harbor" to the industry. In a shocking double standard, they said they worry that introducing males to the prostitution industry in Nevada would sully the reputation of the brothels in the state. Excuse me?!?! You're worried about the reputation of your local pimps and whores because of some gay men. Homophobes never cease to amaze me.
The wording in the health code has added the words or urethra to include the males of the profession. Local brothel owners say that their male workers will have the choice to have sex with either male or female customers, or both, just as their female "employees" do. Vegas in 2008 was the second most visited tourist destination for gay and lesbian vacationers behind New York City. This most recent move is a very smart business business decision to even the playing field with the businesses in the area that have been catering to the straight customer for decades too long, in my opinion.
VIVA LAS VEGAS, HONEY.
You can see the source article from the Las Vegas Sun here. This news is spreading like wildfire amongst the gay and lesbian blogs. In an online poll associated with the linked article, 82% of readers said that they found male prostitutes at brothels "socially acceptable"; much higher than what I was expecting. WAY TO GO, LAS VEGAS SUN READERS!!
Soundtrack of My Life 12/13/09 - XTC 'Dear God'
Sometimes when you've had something force fed to you for so long, you become so repulsed by it that you'll never try it again. It sort of reminds me of the stories you hear of people that get caught smoking as a kid. Their father makes them smoke the rest of the pack until they puke. They never smoke again. Even in adulthood, the thought of smoking physically makes them ill. I have the same reaction to religion.
I was raised in a very strict, religious family. I was giving public sermons in front of my local congregation at the age of four. I was knocking on doors, preaching the "good news of God's kingdom" on Saturday mornings soon thereafter. I knew the Bible, inside and out, and could quote hundreds of verses by the time I entered grade school. I was brainwashed.
It only got worse as I grew older. My sermons became more complex and more in depth. I was offering prayer before the congregation, which was a pretty big deal.
As I grew older, and wiser, I started to realize that everything I was taught and everything I was teaching others was a lie. I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep preaching the "God loves you" line when I looked around the world and evidence told me that not only did he/she not love us, but he/she likely didn't exist.
I remember seeing this video on MTV when the song originally came out decades ago, and, after severing ties with the church in the mid 90s, I heard this song again on the radio. Since then, it has become one of my favorites. Caution to those that are light of heart: it is quite blasphemous, but it sums up quite a lot of my thoughts on God and religion. The video has the lyrics subtitled at the bottom of the screen as well. Some pretty powerful stuff.
I was raised in a very strict, religious family. I was giving public sermons in front of my local congregation at the age of four. I was knocking on doors, preaching the "good news of God's kingdom" on Saturday mornings soon thereafter. I knew the Bible, inside and out, and could quote hundreds of verses by the time I entered grade school. I was brainwashed.
It only got worse as I grew older. My sermons became more complex and more in depth. I was offering prayer before the congregation, which was a pretty big deal.
As I grew older, and wiser, I started to realize that everything I was taught and everything I was teaching others was a lie. I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep preaching the "God loves you" line when I looked around the world and evidence told me that not only did he/she not love us, but he/she likely didn't exist.
I remember seeing this video on MTV when the song originally came out decades ago, and, after severing ties with the church in the mid 90s, I heard this song again on the radio. Since then, it has become one of my favorites. Caution to those that are light of heart: it is quite blasphemous, but it sums up quite a lot of my thoughts on God and religion. The video has the lyrics subtitled at the bottom of the screen as well. Some pretty powerful stuff.
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