Randy: That’s two different ideas.
Me: No it’s not.
Randy: Yes it is. You told me one story idea, then you just went in a completely different direction. Completely different story.
Me: No it isn’t.
Me: I had the thoughts at the same time.
Randy: You have completely different thoughts at the exact same time? No wonder you never sleep.
Me: Well, I didn’t have the thoughts at the exact same time, but one did lead to the other, so it’s the same story.
So, here it goes, my story has nothing to do with rabbits or holes (another thing that will drive Randy nuts. Haha).
I just want you to decide if this story goes down a rabbit hole and is actually more than one story as Randy claims or is this one story?
Or, and this is the camp I am in, does it not matter at all?
In the spirit of fairness, if most of you agree with Randy, then I shall do my penance and write bad poetry about something in my house.
Anyway, I stayed home from work today because I have a head cold, it snowed last night and roads are bad. Also, I spent days dealing with the wrecked car bullshit. I need a break.
I checked my Facebook memories (Oddly enough, according to my memories on Facebook, I stayed home from work on this exact day last year as well. I must have a hard time entering February.)
I found this quote in my memories:
“You,” he said, “are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.” – Emilie Autumn
My first thought: Wow, do I feel this.
My second thought: Okay, jingle brains. Who wouldn’t feel this?
What human is going to read that and go “Oh, yeah, not me. I’m completely false.” ?
And we’re all in pain.
Pain is part of the human condition.
None of us get away with never feeling physical pain. None of us get to go through life without mental pain.
Not that we’re all writhing in pain all the time. But most of us carry at least some all the time, whether it be mental or physical. Or both. Pain just is. We can all identify with that.
I’m sure, though, this quote means different things to other people.
I read this and am reminded of a professor I had during my brief time as a college student. She said people who don’t have rose colored glasses to look through are usually more depressed.
I don’t think it is a flaw to be able to dismiss or distort some of the atrocities we see every day. I think that is the brain saying “Oh, yeah…how about we look at the flowers instead.”
Well, it’s certainly been a while since I’ve made a Walking Dead reference.
Reality is a weird concept to me.
I mean, I know our realities are what our brains reflect back to us.
Our realities are what our brains allow us to see.
I don’t know what you motherfuckers are seeing. I probably don’t want to. I am also fairly certain you don’t want to see what I am seeing, either.
With that being said, who is better off?
The people whose brains protect them as best they can and allow them to function? Maybe.
- We still need us, though.
- We need the people who didn’t manage to snag a pair of those glasses.
- We need the people who point out how horrible things are.
We’re the ones who look at them even though it hurts. We’re the ones pointing it out to people who are able to glance away. Because we can’t look away anymore.
For instance, the Virginia governor.
I get people saying “it was 35 years ago. He’s a changed person.”
Thirty five years is a long time and I fully believe people are capable of change. For all that is holy, we have to believe that, because if it isn’t true, then I’m not seeing much hope for the future.
Those of us who are paying attention, those of us who are waking up to our own privilege, those of us who can’t look away, we understand why the governor must resign: Trump’s administration legitimized racism.
We are in a precarious stage and it is imperative we move forward in the best way.
That does not include having a leader who chose to behave in a racist manner as an adult. We cannot. We have to make a clear and definitive stance against racism.
Nothing less. No concessions. We must denounce racism.
Does that mean there is no forgiveness for people who want to be different? Who want to grow? Of course not. But it’s probably best you don’t run for office. At least, not right now. Maybe, 20 years down the road, we will be ready for the “I used to be a racist but have seen the error of my ways” candidate. But, right now, that can’t happen.
I thought about all the stories I read about our brothers and sisters being racist douche twizzles and thought they would probably identify with the Emilie Autumn quote as well.
I don’t think any of us think we’re evil.
I mean, I find it super hard to understand people who aren’t sickened by caging children at the southern border. I can’t understand people who aren’t for all people in our country having access to the health care they need. I will never understand why anyone would believe they have a say over another human’s actual body. But still, I completely believe that they would identify with that quote.
That makes me feel an uneasy kinship. In a manner that no matter what, we are stuck here together in this moment of time. We have to live together. We’re going to have to find ways to feel kinship with each other.
That kinship will never include brushing aside racism.
That kinship will never include “seeing both sides” when it comes to racism, misogyny or xenophobia.
That behavior must die. Those ideas and words must die. We have to reject it without compromise.
Okay. Now, be honest. Is Randy right? Rabbit hole? Or no?
Also, when I write the bad poem, should it be about the new kitty statue or my ridiculously old gas stove?
Photo courtesy of skitterphoto