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A little secret about me 8 November, 2009

Posted by silentpyjamas in inflammatory!.
Tags: , , ,
4 comments

Sometimes, I wish I were a white girl. Not because I think white girls are better or prettier or something. I love my skin color, my features, my boingy hair. Sometimes I wish I were a white girl because I could go hide, in a far-removed white community away from the specters of racism and self-hatred. I don’t hate my blackness, but sometimes I’m encouraged by other black people to do so.

What brought this on is a little journey I took online this evening to find ways to teach my niece to love her hair. That’s her in the flickr feed on the sidebar. She has gorgeous hair. It’s curly and springy and it’s a beautiful color and it fits her just right. She would rather look like Hannah Montana. She doesn’t care to see the new Disney princess movie (I hate Disney Princesses for the record, but I think The Princess and The Frog might be a neat film) because the princess is black. Where is this coming from? My sister and I don’t teach her these things. We don’t ever use the phrase “good hair” or tell her that her hair is a pain to work with. We don’t ever tell her that white is prettier but she believes it. It hurts my heart so. How do we fix this?

So I began this little journey tonight, to find information. To find ways to reinforce to her that SHE is beautiful and she is more than the sum of her assorted parts. I found some great blogs which exulted inner beauty and the idea that every type of person has his or her own beauty which simply cannot be compared against others.

Then I ran across this thread which answered questions I never even really considered asking or wanted to know the answers to. I managed to make it down to the bottom of the first page before I left. “So what?” I thought. Kooks abound on the web and who’s to say that’s not an entire comment thread full of trolls?

My Google search term was “teach little black girls to love their hair” and I kept running across various posts about the new black Barbie, one of which I finally read. Some of those comments…wow. I don’t really know what to say. I didn’t even know the phrase “these people” was still in use and I was pretty stunned by this particular comment which I found barely decipherable:

“So, da baby mommas is don gettin all wiggly coz dey gots straight hair. Hoo, boy. Dats dis crim in na shun! Dey not only ones with black hair. Ever see Indian from India. Dem mommas knows non thing.”

What IS that? Is that even necessary?

Ignoring that I moved on to a post with a very awesome video linked and a GREAT comments discussion about hair in general and a bit of the differences between the hair types of different ethnicities. It has the amusing title of “Attention Black People with Jobs” and I quite liked it and felt buoyed by the discourse. Don’t get me wrong, some of the comments on the Barbie article were good, like the ones saying that Barbie is pretty completely unrealistic in comparison to any race/ethnicity of people. That I can deal with.

What I was not prepared for was this whopper of an essay which I kept seeing links to in my search results. I wasn’t even sure why it cropped up so often until I realized about 3 paragraphs in that every fifth word in the article is “black” or “blacks”. It’s written by a schoolteacher who wanted to share with the world what savages we negroes really are. I was taken aback, flabberghasted, aghast, and at a loss for a reaction. I still don’t know what to think about this and I haven’t even read the whole thing. For those who are interested, it’s contained in a blog post by Marty Nemko (who did not write it) and it is entitled “What is it Like to Teach Black Students?” Now I haven’t read the rest of Mr. Nemko’s blog because I was trying to find a link to this essay that wasn’t on some insane message board or on some racist website. I can’t say anything about Mr. Nemko’s politics but the essay is contained there. For the record, I search by the name of the essay and hoo boy I learned there are sites out there where people really, really express their hatred. A few kooks on the internet indeed. It looks like there are a lot of kooks. Do they live in my town? Do I pass them in the store? Is one of them the guy who only grimaced at me when I smiled at him in the grocery store? Did he feel, as one person did in the Topix post linked above, that blacks (including myself) look like apes?

What a scary world we live in. A world where my six year old niece is full of self-loathing for a reason my sister and I cannot fathom. A world in which a schoolteacher, who is a sort of person I always envisioned loves children and sees the potential in each, can write an essay in which he absolutely excoriates pretty much the entire black race. Am I to believe there are scores and scores of parents out there that don’t give their children what is commonly known as “home training”? Or am I to believe that there is a teacher who, upon seeing students of the brown persuasion, automatically associates them all with savages?

I’ve BEEN looked at like that. I’ve been told that I’m a credit to my race. Been told that “I wish more of your people were like you.” I’ve been called a “house nigger” and “high yellow” by people of my own ethnicity while from the lighter persuasion I’ve heard that I’m the “kind of girl it’s okay to have fun with but you don’t bring her kind home.” I’ve been told that I “talk white” and that my parents are sellouts because they worked really hard to buy a home with a pool. That I’m a sellout because occasionally I entertain relationships with not-black men. That I’m a sellout because I read science fiction or that I’m ghetto because sometimes I wear my hair in twists which resemble braids. At the same time I have encountered such wonderful people of all ethnicities who are open and warm and who don’t judge by those measures and I should be happy and thankful, and I am, but it stings. It stings every time I realize that no matter what I achieve, no matter what President Obama achieves, no matter what all those black people in space have achieved, we’re still niggers and that is all we will ever be in the eyes of way more people than I had ever imagined. That cuts down to the bone, and to know the echoes of that pain in the voice and eyes of a young girl is like the realization that the knife is made of salt.

There’s no end to the amount of despair I feel right now. I want my niece to grow up to love herself, to know she is an intelligent and beautiful young lady and that she has the potential to do as much as she aspires and applies herself to. I know someday she must hear the dreaded N-word and someday she must come to us asking what’s so wrong with her just because of the ethnicity she was born into. How can we tell her that there are people in the world, a lot of them, who will never see past that? People who will never think of her as the girl who can draw and read wiring diagrams or the girl who wants to fold proteins or the girl who enjoys science fiction but only if it asks questions. People to whom it does not and will never matter one whit that black people get degrees and doctorates and can be the president because deep down inside we’re all monkeys, right? God, I am so angry right now and so in pain. What the fuck, people?

So yes, that’s my dirty little secret. Sometimes I wish I could look, from a removed stance, and see the things that exist with regard to race from a position of noninvolvement. I think a white girl is about as racially and sexually safe as you can get with regards to issues of color, ethnicity, and privilege. And no, I don’t think this is exclusive to black/white. It’s ugly everywhere and to everyone and damn, I swear one time I thought that someday, it might go away.

On Torture Porn 22 September, 2008

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!.
Tags: , ,
2 comments

i think i’ll be doing a double post today.  possibly.  we’ll just see about that.
it’s been a good while since i’ve posted and perhaps that’s for the good, since i’ve had a lot to think about and perhaps a bit of maturing to do.  much like my livejournal (you’ll never find it), i look back at my past posts on this blog and think it’s pretty emo.  or lame.  or stupid or what-have-you.

anyway, i was taking a break from working today and somehow got onto the topic of “torture porn” films.  this is sort of a radom interest of mine.  i love horror films, and i don’t even mind gory ones.  there are certain places i can’t go though.

when i was in my 20’s i watched a movie called “Blood Sucking Freaks” which was to be sure pretty epxloitative and graphically violent.  it seemed to me to be, as painful as the tortures appeared, cartoon violence.  it wasn’t really serious.  i’ve sat through many things and held my stomach contents and my drinks and my composure.  several years ago i went to one of the swanky cinemas here in town with my mom to watch the movie “Saw” which seemed like it would be great fun based on the sort of choices the victims had to make.  it’s not a bad movie, but i haven’t and probably will not see the sequels.  nor Hostel and its sequels.  nor turistas, captivity, or any of the new bumper crop of blood-drenched films out there.

it seems perhaps foolish of me to write this as i admit to not having viewed more than one film in this genre.  i have good reasons, let me elaborate.

in 2000, as any reader of my blog (this one or that horrible lj) knows, my brother and his roommate were murdered.  i sat in courtrooms for many days in the ensuing 5 years, for hearings, a trial, for sentencings.  i made victim statements, i lashed out at people, i talked to reporters.  most of all, i saw a photograph of my brother on an autopsy table.  i heard the woman who lived downstairs recount, on several occasions, the horror of hearing lives being taken in the apartment upstairs.

i threw up every day, i was stressed out all the time, i drank too much.  and when i would go to bed and close my eyes the crime, as told through photographs, testimonies, and police/criminologist/pathologist reports played through my head again and again.

when i went to watch saw, i felt uncomfortable.  i chided myself for being old-fashioned.  for loving only cheezy old slasher flicks.  for not being with it.

it took me some time to realize what it is about these films that makes me sort of want to watch them but know that if i do i will feel filthy and awful.  i’ve read the wikipedia entry for pretty much every horror movie in existence.  possibly also the imdb entry.  and movie review entries on every site i could find.  what gets me is this.  everywhere, these tortures are described in such detail that eventually they become clinical.  “decapitated” “severed” “crushed” “burned” “stabbed” “beaten” “raped” etc show up again and again, in blase tones as if this is just perfectly ducky.  it may be, i could be getting old and being wrong and in fact not be with it at all.  but what gets me from movie clips and trailers, and all of that reading, is the way the camera lingers lovingly on this pain.

that is where i must draw the line.  i cannot watch some innocent person in an impossible situation, begging and screaming for his or her life, sobbing, desperate, knowing that something is coming and maybe not specifically what but that this something includes “the end.”  i never physically heard my brother screaming for his life, but in my mind i have heard it a million times.  it’s not entertaining, believe me.  it makes for a very anxious insomniac.  i imagine the look on his face, the fear in his eyes, the primal terror that this is it.  this is the end.  there is no way to escape from this and i cannot imagine watching someone who i am supposed to empathize with, going through that.  especially to no purpose. 

it frightens me that the centerpiece of these films seems to be the brutalizing of innocence.  “darling, let me linger and watch the light go out of your eyes.”  where’s the triumph?  where’s the resolution?  that the good guys all die at the end or in saving themselves, become the bad guys?  i reiterate that i might just be a special case here, but does it make anyone else’s skin crawl that the piece de resistance of these movies is the absolute and unabating nihilism that seems inherent in their plots?  horror films has always been the stuff of nightmares but these are bad dreams i don’t want to have.

i’ve heard it said these movies are addressing the brutal truths of life.  terrorism.  torture and abduction.  pain and horror.  there are ways to convey that without making naked barbarity the dressing for every course of the meal.  when you tell me “this is some basically decent young person” (as my brother was) “who may or may not have made the best choices in the past” (everyone may or may not have done that) “that is about to undergo horrifying torture and pain without relent until they expire, in the most possibly gruesome way” you are saying to me “there’s no story to tell here but there are plenty of pictures you’ll wish you had never seen.”

i’ve already seen those pictures.

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JERKS PART 2 a little codicil (or whatever) to my little story about Polly and the jerks 13 December, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!.
4 comments

i’m going to go ahead here and say the word of the day is expediency. you may think i am a jerk myself for writing a story in which the moral is “hey nice guys, don’t blame the honest jerks for stealing away all the women, blame the jerks in disguise.”

you can’t really blame a woman for wanting to hook up with a jerk. i say, though, that you can blame her for the quality of the jerk. my personal jerk, for instance, is captain asshole. now i haven’t seen him in *months* but if i bumped into him it would be just like old times. incidentally, he was a jerk pretending to be a nice guy, but after a term of being nice, he went full-on jerk and no longer pretended to be a good guy. i say, you GO captain asshole. why can’t there be more honest jerks? i always ask. it would make things more expedient.

imagine the time one might save in one’s life if you didn’t waste, say, a year or several on someone who pretended to be something they weren’t! imagine that! it would be GREAT! like, if you’re flaky you should just say “you know what, i’m a flake” and be done with it. i do it. i tell everyone “i am a terrible person” because then how can i ever disappoint them? and how could they ever think i was being someone i’m not!?

it’s just easier to pick the clear asshole out of the lineup because the problem with jerks in disguise vs nice guys is that you just can’t tell and you can go a good while thinking you’re building a future with someone who turns out just to have been along for kind of a short ride that is mostly for their own amusement. eventually the business of meeting a nice guy gets old and lame because damn there are a lot of jerks out there pretending to be nice, ostensibly to take advantage of girls who want a nice guy. real men choose a road. either you’re man enough not to be a jerk, or you’re man enough to wear your jerk swagger and your wife-beater and get on with it. you guys in between, jerks in nice-guy suits, are the cause of this problem. bastards.

another thing to consider is the degree of jerktitude. this is kind of important. for instance, captain asshole doesn’t call me names (as far as i know) and he’s never raised his hand to me or anything like that. this makes me, of course, personally responsible for the treatment i might get from him but i am able to be responsible for it. i know it’s coming, so it’s kind of a comfort, really. if he were to suddenly start being very nice, i would become very suspicious.

some girls like XXtreme Jerks(!) which are like, guys who hit them, guys who hit their kids, guys who bring home VD, whatever. you know, these girls (i don’t care what you saaaay!) are responsible for the level of jerktitude being perpetrated against them. it is everyone’s choice whether or not to date a jerk (unless it is an incognito jerk still in the “nice stages” at which point yo have no fucking clue), and whatever kind of jerk he is, remember ladies, he’s still a jerk and if he beats your face in, that’s the price you pay for not finding a less violent jerk. the sad part is, it seems there aren’t too many really honest assholes to be found. some people claim to be assholes but most are just looking for attention. sadly, jerks as a species have become so advanced that they’re infiltratin the ranks of nice guys with the greatest of ease, and ripping a swath through the dreams of every girl who, like Polly, just wanted to meet a nice guy.

on the other hand, i think on some level it teaches yo to be thankful. your friends can be shocked when their man fucks another girl (or another guy or an animal or what-have-you), or when he cleans out their bank account, or accidentally spends the whole night at a titty bar. the girl dating a jerk can smile to herself because she’s never shocked, never surprised, and furthermore, she’s so beyond that that she’s able to enjoy really great sex with her man, even though she knows he’s thinking of someone else.

c’mon jerks, get more honest with us, willya?  i mean think about it, you have it all over the nice guys already.  nice guys cannot be trusted.  it will make the actual nice guys very happy and maybe some chicks will find an actual nice guy. and by some chicks i mean those of us who haven’t been burned beyond repair yet.

(NOTE AND SOMETHING SORT OF LIKE A DISCLAIMER: the men in Polly’s life and the men of which i speak are amalgamations of men i have known and heard of throughout my life, so if you’re a jerk that i know, honest or incognito, don’t worry, this isn’t specifically about you.  but you’re still a jerk.  love ya tho <3)

JERKS PART 1 inflammatory open letter to my friends who keep asking: why do girls like jerks? 13 December, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in inflammatory!, open letters.
3 comments

hi there kids, i’m going to enlighten you on this highly confusing (for apparently everyone) topic. first i’d like to say i did not in fact close down my company. i got yelled at by my mom and who wants that? for crying out loud..

anyways back to jerks. i don’t claim this is the definitive answer but i daresay it’s a pretty fucken good one, and it explains a lot of the girls i know who prefer jerks (sometimes including myself). also, never having been gay or a lesbian, i don’t know if these things work for people of the homosexual persuasion. i’m not dissing you, but i imagine there could be similar kinds of situations.

once upon a time there was a girl named Polly. Polly was a nice girl, she wasn’t perfect but she was nice. all Polly wanted was to meet a nice boy who liked some of the things she liked, and settle down with him. just like she’d dreamed of all her life.

one day Polly met a nice boy named Jake. Jake was soooo cool. he was funny and they talked a lot and went on a lot of dates. one day Jake did some fucked up shit but Polly was forgiving, she knew people made mistakes. she’d hoped he woud learn from this wrng thing and do better next time. but Jake kept fucking up again and again, until finally Polly realized the truth. Jake was a jerk. a jerk disguised as a nice guy.

Polly was left reeling from her experiences with Jake and met a new guy named Mark. Mark was an asshole. he never even pretended for a moment to be anything he wasn’t. he called her out of her name, and came home smelling of perfume and strange pussy. he spent all her money and yelled at her in front of her friends. “girl” her friends would say, “Mark is a jerk! you need to kick his ass to the curb! you’ll meet a nice guy,” they all said. Polly finally grew tired of Mark’s antics and she broke up with him.

later, Polly met a guy named Richard. Richard was so gentle and caring. he didn’t have all the same qualities as Jake, and thankfully none of Mark’s. well, maybe just his ribald sense of humor. Polly was happy. she settled into her new life with the man who wanted to help her erase all the pain she had been through. they got hobbies together and went on trips and everything was great. except that Richard had this habit of getting irritated very quickly. he managed to cover it up rather well, so much so that Polly had no idea for the first few months. eventually, though, his short temper flared out of control and frightened Polly. but when he wasn’t being like that, he was so wonderful and sweet and kind. so loving. Polly was torn. but over time she came to realize that Richard was just another jerk in disguise, and she dumped him.

her greek chorus of friends cheered her on “you go girl! you’ll find mr right!” and she felt she would. Mark heard she was single again and came around. he hadn’t changed a bit. “i’m better than that now,” thought poor, plucky Polly.

then came Cal. oh Cal, he was so great. he wasn’t perfect either, but he was quick to make up for what he lacked. he was unfailingly patient and kind. he spoke well of her and never ill. when he was angry he worked it out without turning it into something personal. Polly felt herself falling for Cal. she really did. and as time went on, she noticed that nothing was going wrong. nothing. Cal wasn’t sleeping with her friends or making fun of her cooking. hell, Cal was even willing to hold off on sleeping together for as long as she wanted, because she was gun-shy. oh, Cal, you poor bastard.

Polly broke up with Cal. she couldn’t handle it. every day that went by brought her more tension. “will today be the day?” she asked herself every day. “is today the day that he’s going to become a complete ass? what the hell have i been doing with my time?” Polly had a little while to think one day and added up the amount of time she’d spent being kicked in the face by incognito jerks. she realized that she *was* better than that and that if she’s going to get kicked in the face by a jerk, it’s going to be an honest jerk. so she broke up with Cal, much to his sadness and confusion. her stress and worry about the “ending” immediately stopped and she felt relieved.

Polly went to find Mark. she found him and by now, she knew. Mark was a complete, utter, and nearly irredeemable asshole. but she knew that. nothing Mark would ever do, could ever surprise her. she expected him to bring her home VD, he hadn’t done it yet but she figured he would, eventually. she expected Mark to stay out all night and tell her that it was none of her fucking business where he was last night and stop asking before he just doesn’t fucking come back one night. but Polly smiled inwardly to herself. he would always come back. nobody else would have Mark the way he was. too much of a complete dick. but she would. she would have him and she would never be disappointed or truly hurt because she knew and embraced his jerkitude. Polly had learned a valuable lesson. you never know if you can trust someone until they prove you cannot. if you’e going to be with someone you cannot trust, you may as well be aware of it from the very beginning. Polly was happy, as it were, and nothing her friends could say would change her mind. she had found the perfect jerk for her.

the end

i hope that all of you aching nice guys out there can feel the point of this story.  i’ve thought about this a lot and asked around quite a bit and from what i have gathered, this is really the cause of the girl-jerk continuum.  don’t blame the girls, and call them all sorts of bitches and hoes.  that’s how they can tell you’re a jerk in disguise, motherfucker.  try to feel it, and if you can’t, then remember the last time you complained about only meeting bitches.

the truth about biology and ugly boys 22 October, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!.
1 comment so far

this is a codicil, insisted upon by one lance benson who was offended i didn’t put in the part of the discussion about ugly guys.

[14:08] <spj_zeez> i think the ironic and funny part is that ugly guys are much less noticed.  it is a rare guy who is *so* unattractive he cannot meet a girl at all
[14:14] <@Lance> what about that mutant fucker from the Goonies
[14:14] <spj_zeez> i said RARE
[14:15] <@Lance> WHAT IF THERE WERE 5 MILLION OF HIM
[14:16] <spj_zeez> compared to the number of total men on the earth they are a small minority of tragic dudes who can only get poon by buying it or taking it
[14:16] <spj_zeez> or maybe they don’t even think about poon
[14:16] <@Lance> they’re into fat kids
[14:21] <spj_zeez> hrm maybe so

the truth about biology and ugly girls 22 October, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!.
24 comments

[13:56] <spj_zeez> i wonder if it is the fate of women everywhere to believe they are ugly
[13:57] <TheFool> well, duh…if they didn’t, how would the vast majority of men get to breed?
[13:57] <spj_zeez> lol what do you mean?
[13:57] <@Lance> if it answers your inquery, I haven’t met a woman yet that’s stated she’s comfortable enough with her appearance to make out with their reflections
[13:57] <spj_zeez> i’d think it would be more helpful if women thought they were beautiful, as the proclivity tends toward the best possible specimens
[13:57] <TheFool> well, if women believed they were beautiful, then they’d have standards
[13:58] <TheFool> and then most guys wouldn’t be able to breed
[13:58] <TheFool> therefore it’s in their best interests to make women feel ugly
[13:59] <spj_zeez> hrm i guess that makes as much sense as anything else i’ve heard
[14:02] <spj_zeez> the thing is. actual ugly girls then feel even uglier. because if pretty girls are ugly then like, less-than-pretty girls are hopeless and hideous
[14:02] <spj_zeez> so it is still not really a level playing field
[14:02] * spj_zeez has given this a lot of thought
[14:04] <TheFool> no, but those hopeless and hideous girls are likelier to spread for any guy who shows an interest
[14:04] <TheFool> and therefore more likely to have kids
[14:05] <spj_zeez> yes i have considered that
[14:05] <spj_zeez> i suppose it is a natural and biological order
[14:06] <spj_zeez> heheh
[14:06] <spj_zeez> nature wins again
[14:07] <spj_zeez> i see. it all makes sense now. i feel encouraged

i didn’t really address ugly guys, not having ever been one before. the topic did come up but it was less scientific and more comical when we talked about it. at last, hyoo-mons, we have figured it out. we think we have triumphed over nature what with our “thinking” and our “minds” and our “free will” but we now know that, in fact, nature has defeated us once again. you can’t really argue with logic like TheFool’s because he has no interest whatsoever in romance with girls or guys, and is frankly turned off by the thought.

this means, clearly, that he is impartial and thinks about this kind of stuff in a way most of us in the repro-race do not. what does the whole thing say about people? i don’t know, except that in the end with very few exceptions, we are herded just like the so-called lesser animals. seems we’re just as “lesser” as they are. on the plus side i am relatively encouraged that all i need to do is behave according to my station and in the end i will be rewarded. there is a heaven for ugly girls!

i think i spent too much time on my youth not putting out. this is where i failed. had i been doing it up to now, i’d probably engender the kind of loyalty that ugly girls get when they bang a guy who turns out to like them. by then, they’ve already passed the most important tests. i’ve been going the wrong route, being all on the high road, can’t sleep with someone until we have a relationship, shot down in pretty girls’ territory.

i will use my newfound wisdom, well, wisely. cheer up, ugly girls. we can’t be as picky as the pretty ones, but we’re the ones who keep the place populated.

Alex Ionescu Has a Dream Today 11 August, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!, stuff and nonsense.
2 comments

[15:40] <@Alex_Ionescu> I HAVE A DREAM
[15:40] <@Alex_Ionescu> A DREAM WHERE ALL BLACK CHILDREN
[15:40] <@Alex_Ionescu> CAN BOOT A FOSS OS
[15:40] <silentpyjamas> HAhA YES ALEX, YES!
[15:41] <@Alex_Ionescu> a dream where black children from all nations
[15:41] <@Alex_Ionescu> and all walks of life
[15:41] <@Alex_Ionescu> do not spend their lunch money
[15:41] <@Alex_Ionescu> on windows licenses
[15:41] <@Alex_Ionescu> but on LUNCH!
[15:41] <@Alex_Ionescu> Though I walk through the valley of propretiary products
[15:42] <@Alex_Ionescu> I will fear NO CODE
[15:42] <@Alex_Ionescu> NO LAWSUIT
[15:42] <silentpyjamas> YEAS!
[15:42] <@Alex_Ionescu> and NO CORPORATION
[15:42] <@Alex_Ionescu> will shun my dreams and hopeS!
[15:42] <@Alex_Ionescu> ARE YOU WITH ME
[15:42] <@Alex_Ionescu> ARE YOU WITH ME??????
[15:42] <silentpyjamas> YESSS-AHHH
[15:42] *** EmuandCo changed nick to BillGates
[15:43] * +BillGates shoots at Alex_Ionescu
[15:43] * @Alex_Ionescu becomes a national symbol and martyr

We love you, Alex Ionescu. For freeing us from the binding chains of closed-source, corporate-controlled software. We love you Alex, because you will let us indulge in our urge to use windows programs without using Windows.

Seriously, come out and support your local Free, Open Source Software. ReactOS is being nurtured and grown so that people who don’t use Linux and BeOS and MacOS will not have to change their entire lifestyles and the programs they use just to avoid having to be treated like a stepchild by a company that, yes, is made to make a profit but at the same time is dominating the software industry in an unhealthy way. It’s still mostly nascent, but even if you can’t run it yet, come for the things you can learn and the people that hang out in there. You might even find it in yourself to fight the good fight!

(This has been a shout out to ReactOS. You can find this marvelous Alex Ionescu at irc.freenode.net #reactos. And don’t forget to visit the ReactOS website and check out those glorious screenshots!)

open letter to UPS 1 August, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!, open letters.
2 comments

dear UPS,

i have always thought you were cool, since you came around. i never made fun of your boring, shit-brown uniforms and trucks. i thought you guys were neat for helping your employees pay for college. well now you have gone too far, UPS.

how dare you delay my cookies!

that is the single joy i have had this week. my cookies. ever since last thursday i have been having such an incredibly shitty week that i looked forward to the cookies to make me feel better. i CLUNG to the knowledge that after work today my sister was going to go to the store and get some milk so we could eat delicious Deerfield Bakery cookies after we sent my niece to bed. YOU MONSTERS!

oh so now they’re delayed. i see, and that would be fine if they weren’t made preservative-free with real butter and SITTING IN THE HEAT IN KENTUCKY. i called your 800 number and after several minutes of negotiating with an automated system i hung up and attempted to reach someone at another number. clever how i can’t talk to a human being until i spend like half an hour making sweet love to your robot voice.  you have to know i was livid. still am, but at the time i was apoplectic with anger. BASTARDS.

and when i finally DID get in touch with the UPS operator (by calling the customer service number again and screeching into the phone that I WANT AN AGENT NOW) she was like “sorry about your cookies.” have you ever been so wrecked that you cried on the phone to someone who works for the company that delayed your cookies? hmm? well i have, just a few short minutes ago and i am so angry because all i wanted was my cookies. i could hardly even speak i was so upset, and the UPS lady, what did she do?  she acted like it was NO BIG DEAL!  “they’re just cookies, right?”  NO BITCH THEY ARE NOT JUST COOKIES.  they’re cookies sent by my dear friends who knew i was having a rough time and went TO THE BAKERY to get those cookies ESPECIALLY FOR ME.  c’mon UPS lady?  haven’t you ever had the cramps before?  DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN.  i wasn’t even yelling at you.  just sobbing because all i wanted was my fucking cookies.  they wouldn’t have made the world all right or kept me from slipping deeper into my insanity but they would have been a bright spot, and perhaps enough even to redeem this week. pff, screw it now.

you have no idea, UPS, how i am feeling right now. the contents of this vitriolic open letter do not even begin to cover the seething rage i am experiencing right now at knowing that *yet another thing in my life has gone wrong this week* and now there is nothing awesome happening today. you hookers had better hope that those cookies were accidentally kept in cold storage while they were making their way all over the country because if i open a package of rotten cookies, UPS so help me god i am going to be one angry bitch. *angrier* bitch.

i am going to call every single number i can find for UPS until someone from that company buys me some more cookies and i am *so* not kidding. you better hope these cookies arrive here still edible. i am serious, because damn, the cramps are talking and all they’re talking is trash.

MONSTERS!

love,

CoCo

the relaxer conundrum 22 July, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, inflammatory!.
1 comment so far

when i was a kid i got relaxers. well, even into adulthood. for white people, a relaxer is the opposite of a perm.  we actually call relaxers “perms”, even though they make our hair straight. i haven’t gotten one in a good number of years, but when i did, i ran into this strange occurrence.

have you ever tried to deny yourself something, knowing that if you didn’t, the consequences could be unpleasant? well, let me tell you. when you get a relaxer, although it’s not supposed to touch your scalp, you’re also not supposed to scratch your scalp because it totally will touch your scalp. if you scratch, even the tiniest bit, it burns.

starts off as a tingle, builds to a full-roar burn. remember in malcolm x when denzel tried to be strong but then dunked his head in a toilet? that is just what a relaxer burn is like. and then it hurts for days. it’s awful because as much as it hurts just sitting on your scratch, it hurts even more when they put the neutralizer shampoo that stops the chemical from working. god forbid your hair is not all the way straight yet or you’re fucked for 6 weeks. the shampoo burns, and finally it stops burning, except for the vigorous scrubbing action that must be applied to get all of the relaxer and shampoo out of your hair. then of course conditioner. burns. rinsing. burns. it even burns that night when you lie down to go to sleep. the burn is really something.

but as soon as i would decide to get a relaxer, my head would begin to itch. as if it were daring me to scratch it. as if it were taunting me. “c’mon. c’mon i can’t take this itching. you feel it, don’t you? is it interrupting your train of thought yet?” already my skin is sensitive to chemicals and i’d get burned by relaxers anyway. scratching only made it worse.
usually i could hold out at first but as the day would wear on (no scratching for at least 24 hours beforehand, but i really recommend 48 hours or better yet, don’t get relaxers. they suck) the itching would become insidious, i would find my hand straying to my head. nothing would be wrong, and i just knew that if i didn’t have a relaxer kit in the house my head would not be itching. by the next day, i would have caught myself scratching several times. i’d know it would sting, but that was the price to pay. you schedule a relaxer around a major event so you won’t put it off. once you have the kit, you have to use it. if you don’t, then you will have a kitchen and your hair will be puffy. it is all very mental.
this is the relaxer conundrum.

(posted under inflammatory but only because relaxers literally are)

wow the places people come from 17 July, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in 420 posts, blather and claptrap, inflammatory!.
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how do people find my blog?

my latest favorite referrer (1 hit) is http://bandc.wordpress.com/ which is the chronicle of two very bad people who  are super-wrong.  i say super-wrong because if you’re gonna sleep around on your spouse, why not just BREAK UP WITH THEM?  how TERRIBLE to let someone think you’re doing right by them, let them trust and believe and have faith in you when you are our squandering that faith in them.  pfft.   pretty despicable i say.  they may be cool people, bonnie and clyde, but they are terrible spouses.  for shizle.  makes me never want to get married.  can’t frickin’ trust anyone, sheesh.

search terms under which my blog has been located:

sex with sister and dog blog, what women pirates wore, “phantom itch” AND tired AND symptom, my sister and i get excited about fuckin, pink bedroom slipper+guy+porn, skinny bitch success stories, crazy sex party in water, “dog licking my feet”, ooooooooooooooo, and a bunch of others.  i really like the women pirates and phantom itch ones.  i really do like them.