Tuesday 24 June 2008

Marriage for ALL

I think that the government should get out of the marriage business completely.
I think that anyone who gets married in a church, circle, synagogue, temple... that should be called marriage regardless of the genders of the folks involved.
I think that anyone who gets married before a judge...that should be called a civil union.
Both words should be interchangeable with the same rights and responsibilities.

But failing that, then YES absolutely-- screw this civil union/domestic partner crap.

It's the right thing to do.

Saturday 21 June 2008

No readers, this one is not about any of my obsessive thoughts about VESID sucks.

Friday. Today is Friday. Friday it is. It is Friday today.
Friday is the day that mate and I go to the bookstore.
I got a Richard Dawkins book (passing nod to all those who hate him for being uppity, crass, and an atheist) which talks about evolution. I am studying my ancestors.

To those who don't know, I am technically an atheist along with being a witch, bisexual, woman, newly Discordian (yes dearheart, you do have to eat a hotdog without its' bun in a park on a Friday)-- Hail Eris, and an evolutionist. Oh yes; and hater of VESID (VESID sucks)-- I did promise an obsession free entry today didn't I, lover of my mate, the internet sleezy as it is at times, my dog and cats and frogs and trees and woods, defender of separation of church and state, supporter of civil rights for all civils.
So shoot me.

In the news: an autistic girl in Canada. Seems the educational aide went to a psychic who asked her, "Are you working with a girl whose name starts with a V?" (yes). "She is being sexually abused by a guy between the ages of 23 and 26." The school did the only logical thing-- Children's Aid Society was called. (Americans: think Child Abuse Hotline or D.S.S.).
Mom was then presented with a list of "behaviors" that could possibly constitute signs and symptoms of sexual abuse. Mom protested. Victoria is severely autistic. The Children's Aid Society fortunately was not willing to put stock in a psychic's tip. The report was taken and then quickly dismissed. Mom has sought legal advice regarding the possibility of lawsuit. Meanwhile, Victoria is not going to school. Mom is not going to work. The two are home together all day.







What stupidity! The "for entertainment only" psychic prompted this whole thing. And as almost always, it is the kids who suffer. Victoria was in a self-contained classroom with five other kids. She is non-verbal, entering puberty, lacks inhibitions. The principal interpreted licking a table and gyrating against staff bodies as being indicative of sexual abuse. Some people don't have the sense they were born with.

The psychic shold be prosecuted as being fraudalent, the teacher's aide should be fired, and Victoria should be going to school somewhere.

For dinner tonight-- pizza from a restaurant. Hooray. It was delicious. On the teevee, court teevee as usual. This morning-- dog and I walked our two miles. Mate has been ordered to walk two miles a day by his heart doc. Since he hasn't been or he is slowly working up to it (we will see) I've decided to do it for him. Perhaps he will have some benefits via osmosis.

I visited buddies on multiply tonight. The journals: live, commie, and insane-- will be done tomorrow. The miscellaneous ones: myspace, 360, paganspace-- Sunday.

I'm still doing second life stuff.

if for some strange reason you feel compelled to join up. Don't bother getting the paid account. Leave me your secondlife name in your comments and I will contact you to give you the url to my secondlife home where you can stay for free.

I am learning 3D building and scripting there. Not to put too fine a spin on things, my buildings all resemble something that someone with brain damage would create. (Well, I do have brain damage. It's called "traumatic brain injury" in polite society.).

Tomorrow is run through the house wildly picking up crap and sticking it somewhere out of sight day. My dad wants to come up on Sunday if it isn't raining.

There. A semi-average post.


Thursday 19 June 2008

A Murder of Crows - Volume 18

My forehead is still throbbing as I sit here and write this today. I have been to the gym already, and it was a slow day there. Most of my gang didn’t show up so I got to get my workout in without much interruption, but as I sit here I am amazed at the pain that is coming from right above my eye. It will sound like a long story but it really isn’t. I think the whole event took a little under 15 minutes, but it felt like it was a lot longer, and to say the least, I am too old for it all.

Let me start by saying that this July, God Bless, I will be 19 years sober. It is a small miracle for the most part, but not too shocking anymore to any of those that had seen me drink. I was an unearthly monster that was full of rage before I drank everything I could get my hands on, and alcohol managed to strip what little conscience I had left to get the rest of my rage out of my system. Since the last day I drank back in 1989 at the ripe age of 19 {yep, you know you were bad when you never even made it to legal drinking age before the gig was up!} I have formulated the belief that I am completely and utterly intolerant to alcohol, and I have no control over it. Before I get all preachy here, let me say that this relates, because I also happen to have no control over alcohol in other people as well. For many reasons I also happen to be intolerant of alcohol in other people. Again to specify, I don’t care if anyone drinks and actually envy those that can quite good naturedly but I have never been able to tolerate those that let alcohol do to them what it did to me.

I have a routine. My routine is what keeps my day to day going along smoothly, and for the most part holds my sanity in for as long as it possibly can. It consists of getting up each day by 11, hitting the gym by 12, getting some writing done by 3, getting the kids off the bus around then, getting dinner into me by 4, and heading out to work by 5. The second part of my day consists of getting through work as best I can, leaving at 2, stopping at Dunkin Donuts for a large Ice Coffee {which I will keep adding ice to and drink from until it is water the next night when I leave work}, get home by 2:30, sleep by 4am, rinse, repeat. Anything that interferes with all of this is a burden, and that includes all of the doctor’s appointments I take the kids to, picking them up for sporting events, etc etc etc. With three kids there is a lot of etc etc etc. What really drives me up the wall are the extra things that really should have never happened at all, and especially if they are pointless. At one time rescuing raccoon cubs might have filled that bill, but I have grown up over the last few years and have incorporated “The Next Right Thing” theory that has allowed for “extra” hassles in my day to day.

What happened last night was not an acceptable “extra” hassle from start to finish, and my head still hurts so I am a bit pissy about it. On my way through the Dunkin Donuts drive thru there was a sign saying “Window Broken Come Inside” which I hate to do because it takes longer and my clumsiness often forces me to drop my coffee. Of course it is the only one that is open at 2 am so I haven’t really got my choices in the matter. I went inside and there was a crowd of sorts in there that appeared to be exuberant over the Celtics win over the Lakers, and had probably closed the bar they watched the game at. One of these guys was a belligerent Lakers fan that appeared to be barely old enough to drink if he was at all, and he was explaining very loudly to everyone about how the Celtics cheated. This is typical for a Lakers fan, because like their baseball equivalent {the New York Yankees} they have never actually lost a game in the team’s history, but have been woefully screwed repeatedly thus interfering with their perfect seasons they inevitably would have had. The entire country is used to this mental disorder and usually ignores it.

This is where I come in, of course, because I have never known what was good for me or prudent in the least, so after 5 minutes in line I ordered my coffee with this yappy little twit bumping into me, and shouting at everyone. When I finally had my coffee and could have made my big escape unscathed the little red Jeremy on the left shoulder said “Come on, be a smart ass. That’s always fun isn’t it?” and the little white Jeremy on the right shoulder had nothing to say about the matter. I said in an undertone as I walked by, “The Lakers had no business even being there,” and continued on my way. Hey! The truth hurts and all, but sooner or later someone has to educate the poor lad, and who better to do it than me?

The little prick wheeled me around and punched me hard in the forehead. The combination of drunk and stupid had interfered with his aim because I am pretty sure, looking back that he was aiming for my nose or my eye. Twelve inches of solid bone surrounding rock, was none to kind on the little moron’s hand, as he staggered back from what was probably 2 or 3 broken fingers. I barely noticed this because I had stars in front of my eyes and I think tears were probably welling up. I had dropped my ice coffee after all and that always makes me sad. Phase 2 had to be executed though because this little Peckerhead was about 4 inches taller than me and easily half my weight. To be honest with you, my arms were bigger than his neck, and I was rather pissed off that all of the mouthy assholes in the place simply cleared off and left us a lot of room. I am way too old for this shit!

It is after all the responsibility of the old to teach the younger generation things like manners, tact, and dignity, so I did end up grabbing the kid by his neck and dragging him outside while he started yelling in beergoggle about how I was assaulting him. As I had to wrench him from the door that he was clinging onto with his good hand I was starting to get really angry. When I finally got the twit outside I punched him with sober aim clean in the nose and he laid there until the police came and picked him up. I stood there smoking a cigarette until they got there and since the gentleman was a known issue in the area after sporting events the police just took my name and number and let me go about my night. They of course wanted to know if I wanted to press charges and I said no, because I was probably owed from when I was his age. It made the officer laugh actually, when he responded in kind. My head still hurts, so it isn’t exactly bragging.

I went back inside to get another coffee, which the girl behind the counter gladly gave me free of charge, and several of the idiots in there were cheering me, so I told them to shut it, because they were equally as embarrassing to me. The recent events probably made it so that the rest of the beer balls had been put away. I then went home and slowly poked around the web through my cloudy vision, and slept pretty good albeit with a harder time getting out of bed than the last week or so had been. Fortunately I have this little writing side line that I do, and I can find some humor in this crap, and am already planning on incorporating this into my article for my mouse fart this week. That drive thru window better be open the night the Red Sox win the World Series though ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2008 .. The Crow's Nest

Saturday 14 June 2008

Alex Barton, Asperger's and the MisEducation of the Public

The family of Alex Barton, the little Aspergian misbehaving five year old kindergardener, has decided to sue the school district for his treatment by teacher Wendy Portillo. It is reported that although he enjoyed talking on television, Alex is still evidencing signs of trauma. An attorney from the Liberty Legal Institute's Dallas branch office states that the suit is not without merit. Public opinion as expressed at the end of another article-- published by the T.C. Palm on June 7, 2008 range from "Oh noes Alex will have to goto court and that sucks," to "Give 'em a buck and be done with it," to "Yup, there is a case there." The blog Thinking in Metaphors over at
is the place to go for a better understanding of the legal issues involved.

Autism, along with many other disabilities, continue to be misunderstood by the general public. Now I know that the general public does not have to understand every disability. But kids in a regular classroom should have the benefit of some accurate information. The real bother of the whole thing is that while "inclusive education" is the current buzzword, kids in general are not given any explanations about the conditions and disorders that may be effecting a few of their classmates. Thus a good friend of mine was left recently to explain Tourette's to his nine year old son. Nine year old was accused of not demonstrating an, uh, inclusive attitude because he had yelled "shut up" when a classmate kept cursing in the classroom one day. Apparently some regulation or concern about private medical information prevented the teacher from offering any useful information. The same reg or concern prompted the teacher to claim (erroneously in my estimation) that my friend did not have a right to explain Tourette's to his son either. Talk about insanity. If kids cannot talk about their differences, how are they ever going to come to an understanding of those differences? In my estimation, "Don't ask, don't tell" does not work when it comes to building community.

Now we have a teacher who decided to have a bunch of five year olds tell another five year old what they don't like about him or his behavior. Uncool for any child to have to go through. That teacher needs to find a different line of work. And in light of the lawsuit, the Florida school system would do well to inservice all of its' teachers on autistic spectrum disorder. Autism is indeed a broad spectrum of disorders. The three that illustrate a wide range of intellectual prowess and behavioral manifestations are classic (Kanner's) autism, Asperger's, and pervasive developmental disorder not otherwise specified (P.D.D.-nos). [There are two other disorders included in the spectrum which probably should be moved to a different category.] Having been forced to sit through a few "sensitivity training sessions" myself, my own prejudice is that they don't do much. I still hold that the information should be offered to teachers as well as to the students and their parents. It is at least a beginning. Furthermore, any teacher who works in an inclusive classroom ought to be dually certified-- in special education as well as in elementary or secondary education (or whatever their primary field is).

The general assumption that "all people with autism" are screaming self-stimming innocents and perpetual children is one that I personally am a bit tired of dealing with. Just last night on secondlife dot com, my avatar tried to explain to someone who was annoyed with my adopted cousin's verbal behavior that yes indeed Aspergians can be verbally obnoxious just like anybody else. The avatar to whom this short explanation was directed had protested, "He doesn't have autism! Autistics don't provoke people." Interesting how any of us can suddenly know more than the neuropsych people who have spent years in testing and observation and diagnosing of a variety of disorders and conditions.

Autism in all of its' manifestations is not something that needs curing as the Autism Squeaks parents would have us believe. Nor is it something that should be celebrated in all of its' aspects. If the Aspergian bank teller wishes to keep his job, he needs to attend to matters of personal hygiene just like the rest of us. An autistic adult who is not able to communicate her basic needs or desires certainly has a tough life journey that not many of us would envy or want to emulate. Similar things could be said of any disabling condition or disorder. There was a time when I thought that traumatic brain injury was the worst thing that could happen to me. Then it did happen through the actions of a driver who really should not have gotten stoned before getting behind the wheel of his automobile. Traumatic brain injury is not the worst thing. And autism is not truly the thing that needs curing. The worst thing is ignorance and it is ignorance that needs healing.

radical sapphoq






Posted By sapphoq to * radical sapphoq at 6/13/2008 07:41:00 PM

Sunday 8 June 2008

A Murder of Crows - Volume 17

Today was interesting for me as I tried to get away for the day with the kids. I originally thought it would be a great idea to take a walk down memory lane and go to some of those places I used to hang out when I was a teenager, and show my oldest daughter that there was a time when her daddy was cool. My brilliant idea was predicated on the ideal that I would take her and the other two twits to Salisbury Beach which was one of the coolest places on earth when I first got my driver’s license and carried on being that until I was well past college.

Salisbury was just down the road from Hampton and the place offered a lot of cool things for any young male that was casually trying to pick up girls. There were 4 large arcades, an amusement park, food vendors everywhere, fortune tellers, a concert hall, batting cages, go carts, bumper boats, you name it. My memory of the place has always been fond as I look back on all of the wonderful memories in between being turned down by all the girls I had gone there to pick up in the first place. I figured that the kids would love the rides and games and other things that the place had to offer. We could then go to a few of the stores that sold souvenir junk and buy some cheap trinkets that would forever immortalize the wonderful day that we had.

Well as usual the best laid plans really fell short when we finally got there. I really had all of the warning in the world as we took the long winding road down 1A and many of the things that I had remembered were boarded up. The kids were ruthless in their assessment that “absolutely nothing cool” was coming up around any of the corners. The Funland that me and my loser friends would end our night at, getting rid of the last of our quarters clinking around in our pockets was a hole in the ground, with a pile of old rotting structures that used to be a mini gold course along side of it. I had assured the kids that when we got to the beach it would be a wonderfully fun place and to put it lightly I had nothing but shock when I saw the boardwalk that used to be Salisbury Beach.

There was still one arcade left anyway. It was pillared by all the Hispanics blaring loud barrio music and starting fights with each other. The place where the carnival rides used to be was nothing more than trash and caved in gates. I couldn’t even tell that there used to be rides and games there. All of the batting cages were just an empty lot, and it wasn’t even converted into a parking lot. What was the point, because all of the empty parking lots around it were nothing more than places for gangster types to do “burn out contests” and assorted other criminal activities. The sad part was that it was the most entertainment in the region now, but dreadfully not the type of entertainment that I wanted to take the kids to. The place was a total ghost town filled with nothing but lowest common denominator, and I hate to admit that because it sounds so elitist.

I imagine that it is a good time to point out that not every building there was caving in, or looking like it would the second you walked into it. There was one building at the corner that was the falling in building 20 years ago, and now it looks like a palace while the rest of the place is run down, boarded up, or completely blanketed by scary looking people. I remember when they were zoning it, and I have to admit that it oddly fascinates me how it thrives and the rest of the community totally closed up. I’m also afraid to bring it up, as it always brings people out of the rafters to defend it as well. The place known as “Tens” looks like a Mediterranean castle amidst the wreckage of land occupied by Serfs.

“Tens” is the strip club {gentlemen’s club sorry I got the memo} that was being erected out there about 15 years ago amidst much public speculation. The people that were being torn apart in the print media around here were up in arms because they felt that the club would destroy the area, and make it unsuitable as a family beach. At that time in my life I happened to be one of the people that agreed with the print media that it was a bunch of people who needed to get with the 90’s and broaden their beliefs and ideals. As I look at that ghost town that is obviously riddled with crime, I think that I was an idiot. I’m sure there are plenty of people that will say I haven’t changed, but that is usually their problem and not mine.

What I want to know is where the stories of, “Oops we were wrong” ever are? It’s the main reason that I happen to be a conservative. I am not a prude that needs to censor things. Heaven knows that I have written more pornography and outlandish behavioral issues throughout my blogs over the years to even try to fool anyone into thinking that. What I am though is a realist, and sometimes it is better to buck the beliefs of the “enlightened” then to suffer the consequences of what they get through. Those wonderful commercials for Foxwoods that just about everyone in the country has to endure should be a grand example of that one. The people who were against that were torched and called every name in the book and now there is a huge casino out in the middle of Connecticut with absolutely nothing else within miles of it, if you don’t count all of the caved in buildings. You’ll never see a single “Oops” story written about that, and there are hundreds of families just in the area that were destroyed by having a casino on their street.

Salisbury Massachusetts appears to be lost to the cause. I am fine with that for now because I can take my kids to York and have fun with them, but it’s another one of those forgotten towns that won’t be viable for another hundred years because people don’t want other people’s morality imposed on them. Las Vegas goes through this every fifty years or so, or at least so it says it does. I mean you can take your family there now and they can have a reasonably wholesome time, which is a far step from what it was 20 years ago. I mean as long as you stay on the strip. The murder rate is still much higher, and if you get off the iron path that the police set up, you probably will end up dead. Tourist murder is still higher there than anywhere else on earth, but they keep a wonderful lid on it. Don’t wait for an apology letter on it though, because it will come out right after the one that apologizes for the “known fact” that there would be a draft in 05. When those with power are wrong they are wicked wrong, but when they are right you will know about it in spades. Unlike when they are wrong, because those that know they are wrong will always be labeled as “wronger” ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2008 .. The Crow's Nest

Sunday 1 June 2008

Rachel Moss and fatties

A big shoutout to my friend shamangirl over at LiveJournal whose post on Rachel Moss the woman who took her trolling from off-line to on-line for the lulz and then got found out http://shamangirl.livejournal.com/418980.html?view=817060#t817060
first made me aware of something that happened in Wisconsin. During a WisCon of feminist scifi/fantasy writers, Rachel Moss decided to take pictures of the obese women there and post them on the internet along with her opinions on the events at WisCon. Well folks found out and got pretty pissed and so forth. Angry Black Woman who attended WisCon threw in her hat on the trolling fiasco http://theangryblackwoman.wordpress.com/2008/05/28/what-rachel-moss-did/
as did Coffee and Ink http://coffeeandink.livejournal.com/825950.html

Rachel Moss has a right to publish her opinion on the world wide wasteoftime [although it is less clear to me if she had the legal right to publish pictures of the attendees without their permission] and the rest of us have a right to out opinions on what she did.

My own opinion: Rachel Moss is a troll. And not a very good one at that.