Real Humility is embracing all that I am. Until I do I will forever be out of sync with all the parts of my life. It will entrench my need for my mask when the mask is the source of my suffering. The greatest lie I ever sell myself is that I need the mask at all.
Governor Brown signed SB967 into law this weekend. You might know it as the “Yes Means Yes” law. It defines sexual consent as a specific affirmative and takes a great big step into the personal space of ambiguity, silence, fear, drunken date rape and the verbal form of blame the victim known as “No Means No”. It also expresses clear parameters to colleges for actions to take in the wake of sexual assault accusations.
I know, romance is dead. Buzzkilled again by the nanny state.
Live with it assholes. The government wouldn’t need to lead you by the hand and enunciate slowly, using small words, what common decency means in playing well with others had all existing measures not led to exactly what is happening now:
1 in 5 women on college campuses are sexually assaulted during their education… 1 in 5 women on college campuses are sexually assaulted during their education… 1 in 5 women on college campuses are sexually assaulted during their education.
Does that sink in? Followed by schools stymying, round filing, and covering up assault accusations out of sheer greed. Campus assault rates effect funding. It’s just that pathetically simple.
It breaks my heart that this legal instruction on how to be a man had to be brought. It heals it just a smidge that it passed in the state legislature unanimously.
If you have doubt whether a girl wants to get busy with you, maybe you should spend a little more time getting to know her. In the meantime keep jerking off. It’s the difference between the fire in her eyes when she says “yes!” and the light going out in them altogether because you wanted what you wanted and your ego couldn’t handle “Aw, thanks but no.” You’ll notice it gone in yours too, the next time you look in the mirror.
So we’re at war again. And we get to use our new F fighter! Which, with this plan appears to be leading us to level 264 of Middle East Whack-a-Mole. Newsflash – there is no final level.
The more daunting question is how do we combat an idea? We’re facing a mostly backwards religious culture twisted into its angriest form by soldiers pissed off over 100+ years of colonialism, ‘nation building’, pillaging of resources, and being completely fucked over by the CIA and MI6 most every time they backed whatever play we needed that year.
Short of accessing a dirty bomb or nuke the best they’ll ever do to our homeland is incite small scale chaos and get in our heads. And if they ever did use a nuke on US soil you can guarantee that the offending region would be a glass plate.
So how do we deflate the idea? By coming up with one without a hammer and lip service at some point.
In geopolitical terms we’ve been a very abusive husband to a slightly slow wife and now we’re indignant that she’s become a crazybitch. Some day we’re going to have to own up and do something different. I just can’t see it happening until our own national psyche grows the fuck up.
9/11 is maddening to me. Like every single one of you reading this I remember precisely where I was. What I was doing. The feeling of surreality that the world was somehow ending. The silence overhead for the ensuing week. Grief, rage, patriotism. I also remember going to my local 711 and warning Said to keep his head down because people were going to be thinking and doing some stupid shit soon. Said had as much to do with 19 shitheads from Saudi Arabia flying planes into buildings as you and I did. That is to say, nothing.
I remember tailgating at a Raider game when word got out that we were bombing terrorist camps in Afghanistan. The feeling of release and vengeance coursed through me and I felt good about it. Really good. Then the media machine geared up for what was obvious to everyone as an oncoming invasion of Iraq and I wasn’t buying the hype. Not because I’m cleverer than you or because I hate America but because I sat in my break room at work one day and read, tucked back in page A13 of the SJ Merc, about how the cylinders the Whitehouse was claiming had tactical warheads easily launched from mobile command centers were in fact not the right size, nor shape to function as such. A point never addressed by the media, military or President. And so I worried.
That was 10 years ago. We’ve been at war ever since, playing whack-a-mole all over the middle east. It will never end. It polarizes us like little else. I watch my countrymen pass or fail social litmus tests; are you for the war or not? Are you a real American or not? Do you support the troops or not?
I’ve flown a flag in front of my house since 9/11. (Need to get a new one) I make a point of clearing up when people approach me to thank me for my service with earnest pride and heart ache in their eyes while pointedly not looking at my fake leg that I’m just an old diabetic, not a vet but please don’t stop thanking them. I have many friends who ran off to serve. I have several friends who lost people in the Towers that day. I have friends who were firefighters and cops. I love my country and am proud to be an American. I support the troops and hate the VA and the congress that refused to fund their needs after returning home with traumatic brain injuries, depression, PTSD. I wonder aloud – all the time – why we put them in harm’s way in the first place. I wonder why we, as a nation, abjectly refuse to look at why those planes killed 3000 souls that day and subsequently 1400 first responders in the following years. It was not the world’s worst sucker punch. We need to understand *why* that happened to move forward. It’s not weakness nor cowardice nor unpatriotic to look within. It’s being a grown up. I don’t think we’re there yet – by a stretch.
I love America.
And I hate nationalism.