Category Archives: Philosophy/Politics

The Ants and the Grasshoppers

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Once there was a terrible winter, with terrible cold, terrible snow, and a terrible lack of hot chocolate (with tiny marshmallows). The insects in the Woodly Woods barely survived, except for the ants, who had foresight and hid away enough food to survive the terrible cold, terrible snow, and terrible lack of hot chocolate (with tiny marshmallows).

Come Spring, Alexandra Ant, the leader of the ants, realized that the ants must help their fellow insects. They set up a great insect convocation. The beetles were there. The stinkbugs were there. All of the bugs were there.

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Gary the Gingerbread Man

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Once upon a time, there was a town full of live baked goods. There was Bill the Breadpudding, Terry the Tiramisu, Christine the Cookie, and far, far more. There was also Gary the Gingerbread Man, and he was one far different.

You see, Gary the Gingerbread Man never agreed with anyone. He wanted things his own way. If Bill the Breadpudding said water was wet, Gary the Gingerbread Man said it was dry. If Terry the Tiramisu said the sun was hot, Gary the Gingerbread Man said it was cold. And Gary the Gingerbread Man never changed his mind, even when he knew he was wrong.  Gary the Gingerbread Man knew that changing your mind is weakness. Gary the Gingerbread Man was inflexible and brittle, so he pretended to be hard.

Gary the Gingerbread Man decided that he was finished with such small-minded fools. They were all sheep, he thought. I know the Truth, though I am freshly baked. Admitting wrong is weakness.

Gary the Gingerbread Man ran away, into the deep woods away from the town. And when Bill the Breadpudding, Terry the Tiramisu, and Christine the Cookie went after him to bring him home, Gary the Gingerbread Man said “run, run, as fast as you can, I know the Truth, I’m the Gingerbread Man. And when Bill the Breadpudding went after him, Gary the Gingerbread Man said “run, run, as fast as you can, you’re just a sheep, I’m the Gingerbread Man.

And on and on he ran, refusing to see things any other way, for Gary the Gingerbread Man was inflexible and brittle, so he pretended to be hard.

And on and on he ran, until he was alone with his thoughts. But he was not alone with himself. Frankie the Fox found him until a Poplar tree. Frankie he Fox said “I like the way you think, Gary the Gingerbread Man. You are right, they are wrong. Everything they say is a lie, but you know the Truth.” And Gary the Gingerbread Man believed him, for what is a gingerbread man without frosting to sweeten him?

Gary the Gingerbread Man and all the foxes became friends. They said “I like the way you think, Gary the Gingerbread Man. You are right, they are wrong. Everything they say is a lie, but you know the Truth.” And Gary the Gingerbread Man believed them, because he believed himself.

Gary the Gingerbread Man told his fox friends about the town of baked goods. They pretended not to lick their lips and told him that they are wrong. They must be shown the Truth. Lead us to them, Gary the Gingerbread Man, and we will help you show them the Truth. And Gary the Gingerbread Man believed them, for what is a gingerbread man without frosting to sweeten him?

They all returned to the town of baked goods. When Gary the Gingerbread Man tried to tell him that he found others that knew the Truth, the foxes rushed forward and ate all the baked goods. They ate Bill the Breadpudding. They ate Terry the Tiramisu. They ate Christine the Cookie. They ate all of the villagers. And Gary the Gingerbread Man was happy, because they were sheep and deserved to be eaten by those that knew the Truth.

And then Gary the Gingerbread Man was alone. And then the foxes turned on Gary the Gingerbread Man. They said “thank you for the meal.” They circled Gary the Gingerbread Man. They said, “we are not finished. You must feed the Truth.”

The foxes ate Gary the Gingerbread Man. And as they bit off his legs and arms, Gary the Gingerbread Man was happy. He was feeding the Truth. He would die for the Truth. He was not inflexible and brittle, he was a hero.

Gary the Gingerbread Man didn’t care about Bill the Breadpudding. He only cared about himself. He never knew the Truth. He knew a Belief, and refused to listen to anything else.

Gary the Gingerbread Man died a fool, and everyone in the town of baked goods died because of him. Because Gary the Gingerbread Man was inflexible and brittle. And Gary the Gingerbread Man was wrong.

Gary the Gingerbread Man was always wrong.

Hey, did you like this story? Check out my historical fantasy, The Watchmage of Old New York. It’s only 99 cents for the holiday season, and available in paperback too! Books make great gifts, and ebooks are great (cyber) stocking stuffers.

Watchmage black

doge in space card redux

To Catch a Predator

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On Sunday my cousin sent me a screenshot of a “conversation” between her and a facebook friend of mine. Then she sent me a half dozen others from her friends that have also been harassed by this guy.

They were disgusting, the foulest of the foul.

At first, I was tempted to publicly out the guy. He’s a local and people deserve to know. It’s the modern equivalent of the public stocks. But I found that everybody in my county already knew. I was the last, or near the last.

I went to grade school with him and he was one of my bullies. About 13 years ago he tried to break me and my girlfriend up. I showed up at his parents’ house, where he lived and still lives in their basement, and “convinced” him to stop harassing her. I’m not so easily bullied anymore (no, I didn’t beat him up, but when an angry 6 foot, 280 pound man shows up at your door, you back down). But I saw him a couple of years ago at a party, and he seemed changed. I allowed him to add me as a facebook friend.

He’s been collecting facebook friends and harassing women that he found through his “friends.” He used me to get to two of my cousins and a couple of friends.

Because of my history, I was added to a group that’s collecting information and screenshots of his gross, angry, and threatening texts to present to the police. I’m glad to be a part of it.

I’m disgusted at how many incidents there were. Dozens of people posted their interactions. Some of them are underage (the guy is 40, the same age as I am). The police said not to out him, because some predators get off on the attention (eww), or it moves them to more aggressive measures. I don’t know if this is the police protecting him (his best friend is a local cop and his parents are heavily involved in the community, and police are infamous at dragging their feet on harassment claims due to the ambiguous laws around them), but I hope that they will act. There’s too much evidence.

Some of the messages are to women out of the state. I don’t know the law, but does this make it a federal issue too?

I am far from perfect. I admit that I’ve thought and done creepy things in the past, though nothing on this level. I can’t change the past, and now I’m doing all that I can to make amends.

Being a man in our patriarchal society molds you a certain way from childhood on, and no matter how good you try to be, you are conditioned to think and act “like a man.” I think that bell hooks said it best:

“The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women. Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves. If an individual is not successful in emotionally crippling himself, he can count on patriarchal men to enact rituals of power that will assault his self-esteem.”

In other words: if you don’t “act like a man” and circumcise your emotions besides acceptable ones like lust and anger, you’ll be beaten down until you comply. The shit splashes on all of us, and we either don’t notice or we accept it. Hell, some people roll around in it.

Consider how many women had to come forward before people believed that Bill Cosby should be charged. How many have accused the president (including admission in his own words, like that he walked into the dressing room at the Miss Teen USA pageants). How many have accused Roy Moore, but he still leads in the polls. Nine women accused him. That’s not enough. To those circumcised by the patriarchy, a women’s word isn’t even worth 1/9th of a man’s.

I want to make amends, and while it starts with admission, it continues with nailing this motherfucker. He attacked my family, he attacked my friends, he attacked children, he attacked people I don’t know but know that they didn’t deserve it.

I’m fighting back.

I’ll keep you posted on the progress against Frankie Fuckboy.

doge in space card redux

 

 

War on Thanksgiving?

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November 1st, my next door neighbor put up her Christmas decorations.

I love Christmas. It’s a great holiday, and even though I’m of a different religion, I embrace it, falling into the metaphorical melting pot that is the foundation of American culture. I say Merry Christmas. I watch Christmas movies like Emmett Otter’s Jug Band Christmas (best Christmas movie evar!!!!) I write about Santa Claus and his New York roots. I celebrate with my Christian friends. I don’t get upset when people wish me “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Hannukah.” I understand that my people are a small population (even in New York), and I don’t expect people to include me in their reindeer games. It’s about the sentiment, not the accuracy.

November 1st, my next door neighbor put up her Christmas decorations.

What about Thanksgiving? Where are the “Happy Thanksgiving” signs and the cornucopias? Where are the turkeys drawn by spreading out your hand? Where’s the stuffing? Where’s the cranberry sauce. How did we lose an entire holiday?

And this isn’t just a minor holiday. Thanksgiving is one of the big ones. It’s turkey and family and football and listening to Alice’s Restaurant on the radio (the whole thing…Did I mention that I come from a family of hippies?). It’s also a holiday where I don’t have to sublimate my religion to celebrate it. It’s a national holiday, not a religious one.

I love Christmas decorations, but there is a time and place for everything. Thanksgiving comes first.

btw: said neighbor always wishes me “Merry Christmas.” She knows that I’m Jewish. I just smile and nod. I’m sure she means well.

doge in space card redux

I Am the Rape Culture

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If women are brave enough to post #metoo, I must have the courage to call myself out.

I am the problem
I am the rape culture.
I am the patriarchy.
I have breathed the invisible, foul air since birth until I no longer tasted the pollution.
I have enabled.
I have looked away.
I have put the onus on women to protect themselves with “self defense classes” and “pepper spray” instead of focusing on the rapists.
I have gaslighted.
I have crossed lines and rationalized it as romance.
I have whined about the “friend zone,” as if being nice to a woman entitled me to their affection.
I have physically beaten other men over women, as if they were a prize for the victor.
I have thought things that no man should, but every man does.
Worst of all, I have ignored female friends’ requests not to hang out with an assaulter, for fear that he would try again.
I have done all of these things, and though I was ignorant of the magnitude of what I was doing in many cases, that does not excuse me.

Change begins with awareness. Women should not have to talk about their assault to get people to understand how pervasive the rape culture is. If I am to help change, I must start with the things that I have done. I cannot erase them. I call on other men to have the courage to do the same.

doge in space card redux

(In Just Seven Years) Rocky Horror Made Me a Man

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Note: I wrote this in 2015, but I love Rocky so much that I felt it needed an update.

 

Some of you will get the title reference. You are my people. Thank you for existing.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show turns 42 this year. I’m not sure if this is old or young, because it’s always been an old movie for me. Even though I’ve seen it hundreds (literally) of times, it’s always seemed like something from the past brought into the present for lonely souls like me. It was a holy relic, and we were the cult that formed around it.

For better or worse, Rocky Horror made me who I am.

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Legacy Board Games

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I really enjoy the Legacy games like Risk: Legacy and Pandemic: Legacy. I love that each game has repercussions that effect every game afterwards. For example, in Risk: Legacy, the winner gets to place a city or rename a continent and gets bonuses based on that, other countries get bonuses and penalties based on battles that took place there, worldwide events are triggered through battles, etc. It shows the devastation of war, and how future wars are shaped by it. We are all shaped by our past, whether it’s on a small or grand scale.

Also, it’s a much faster game, as you don’t have to conquer everyone, just earn 4 victory points.

So I was thinking about other games that could be made into Legacy games.

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