Here Comes the Sun

This morning I awoke to find a common situation that is, at the same time, rare in the universe. This universe, anyway. Linda and Annie were sleeping peacefully next to me, and had me pressed against the wall. The window, now unencumbered by an air conditioner, was open wide and a cool September breeze blew across my naked body. Annie and Linda shifted slightly as I pushed away from the wall and pointed my toes at the ceiling. Sunlight poured in and found my toes, first.

My toes have seen a lot in 37 years. In my early teens, I had nine ingrown toenails. Five on my left, four on my right. Eventually, they killed the nerves so that it wouldn't happen again. It worked. The sole of my left foot has an odd scar, caused by muriatic acid and an early attempt at distraction through self-injury.

I've promised Linda that I wouldn't engage in that sort of thing anymore.

My legs reflected the sun like an alabaster statue, making them glow a bit. I feel a modicum of disgust at the loose skin of my thighs, having lost 240 over the last 8 years. My eye then travels to the long scar on my abdomen, which I'm emotionally indifferent towards. It's simply there because it has to be.

My penis is flaccid and lying on a bed of pubic hair, and my scrotum is tight between my legs. It's pleasant to feel the warm sun shining there, in a place that is supposed to be tucked into underwear and covered with clothes. Usually jeans, in my case.

Women have told me all my life that my deformity is of no aesthetic or sexually practical consequence. My penis works, compelled by a very healthy libido. While I understand that, and do not wish to have children, I still find myself in awe of sex for procreation. I'm rather fond of sex, anyway. In a moment of (hopefully mutual) rapture, a new life is created. Just amazing.

I'm very aware of my inability to pull off that magic trick.

Some mornings I live in my mind, where I think about every stupid comment, every mistake, every bad one night stand and every mean thing I've ever said. And every choice.

On this morning, nerve damage from my orchiectomy is radiating up my back. Before I take a sip of coffee, which I can smell brewing downstairs, there are pills to take. Two tramadol for the aforementioned pain, one lithium carbonate, and one levoxythyroxine for hypothyroidism.

The sun and the moon and the Earth all keep my in my place. In that place, I function as best as possible and can't help but be amused at people who talk about "controlling" destiny, or the power of positive thinking, or how organic vegetables will make my life better and longer. It seems absurd to me.

Victory Garden

Tonight I'm considering taking a week or two to mentally convalesce in the psychiatric ward. Generally I've been well, but a silly, personal rivalry has developed between L's family and myself. Some of them anyway. It's hard to explain, but in moments like this there is a lot of self-blame, and after some time it can be withering.

I'm am so tired of this disease. But I'm fighting it. In my free time I do a great deal of reading, and playing with the puppy. A little victory there.

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Did Clinton Give Kim the 'Terrorist Fist Bump?'

The level of political discourse in this country keeps pushing downward, to the point where we don't disagree anymore, we embrace alternate realities. When I began getting politically involved back in 1988, for the Dukakis campaign, there were facts on which most of us could agree, even if our opinions were on opposite ends of the spectrum. I admit that maybe my youth has altered my perception. People like me are given to sentimentality. And those were happy days for me, as I found my voice and entered the Socialist Party. Between 1990 and 2000 I had the high honor of meeting some brilliant, passionate people, whom I've mentioned countless times on this 'blog.

Today, it seems as if there is not only a spectrum of political beliefs, but a spectrum of accepted realities. A casual glance at the news, or the Internet, makes it very clear that we all may live in the same country, but we don't live in the same world. The recent success of President Bill Clinton is a political and human victory that a reasonable person might think of as unassailable. Two young journalists were saved from a hideous fate (12 years at hard labor), and North Korea has shown a willingness to talk to other nations besides China. Some good news, set amid stories of yet another mass shooting in Pennsylvania, four more soldiers killed in Afghanistan, and a grisly tale of a pregnant woman murdered for her unborn baby.

According to Fox News, the mouthpiece for Neo-Conservative Rupert Murdoch, President Clinton's successful negotiation comes with a terrible price. Using strained logic, and a bizarre lack of concern for the hostages, Clinton and Obama were attacked for, "dealing with terrorists." What Murdoch is trying to do, of course, is present diplomacy as a sign of weakness.

I'm not going to present my opinion, except to say that Fox News, the largest 24 hour news channel, clearly has a vehement anti-Obama (and pro-Right) agenda.

That's it, the extent of my contention. I ask anyone who has watched Fox for more than an hour over the past 3 months if they see my point. If you feel the same way about CNN and/or MSNBC (coming from the other direction), then I have to ask, why are we getting our news from people who are clearly trying to manipulate us?

In this post-newspaper world (almost), where are we supposed to find actual journalists who are guided by ethics and at least an attempt at avoiding bias? While it may be true that every journalist is biased to some degree, it's also true that objectivity should be the goal. Corruption may be impossible to eliminate among law enforcement people, but that doesn't mean that we should embrace lawlessness. The very concept of journalistic integrity is now seen as an indication of "elitism" and a liberal bias based in the universities!

Do you remember the "terrorist fist bump" discussed on Fox News' morning show? Does that seem like a reasonable observation? Or do you feel like you're being manipulated?

I focus on Fox News because, very simply, I think that they have an unrelenting bias that they embrace and even advertise. Even when they are broadcasting "the news" they are clearly doing so through a distorted lens. They celebrate spin.

Different opinions should be considered, but if an opinion is passionately expressed that goes against your idea of logic and scruples, consider the source. Always consider the source. The fellow with the megaphone isn't right just because the megaphone is loud.

Of Facebook surveys and Existence

Over a week has past since my last post, and much of that computer time has been spent tending a make-believe farm, fighting a make-believe war, and talking to make-believe people, all on Facebook. Not all the people are make-believe, but at least a couple are, and they really want me to buy a boner pill. Or something.

Most of the people on Facebook with whom I am a friend and a "friend" are flesh and blood Homo sapiens sapiens. Except for that fellow in Slovakia, who is an Australopithecus afarensis.

High school type surveys are frequently sent around, and I can't help but answer them. Time wasters. Here's a real example, which I've answered honestly:

Kissed anyone one of your facebook friends? Yes
Been arrested? Three times
Kissed someone you didn't like? No, but sex, yes.
Held a snake? Yes
Ran a red light? Yes
Been suspended from school? Yes
Totaled your car/motorbike in an accident? Big time
Kissed in the rain? Yes
Pee'd in the shower? Yes
Broken a bone? Yes
Blacked out from drinking? Yes
Felt like killing someone? Yes
Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? Yes

And there you have it. La.

These are not questions that adults really find all that interesting, though. Except for peeing in the shower and number of arrests, those I like. I'm a big fan of people telling me what they do in the bathroom and shower. It's revealing about the humans. Peeing in the shower is just normal, but shitting in the shower, that may be rarer. And on the toilet, some stand before wiping, some remain seated. And on and on.

Years ago, a man working for my father's business told me that he showers after every fart. I was 13 at the time, and found that funny as all get out. That man later put my head through a window for calling him a "Fuddy Duddy" in the presence of a woman he was hitting on. If you don't believe me, ask my brother. I stuck to my bro like glue back then, and we spent our days in Harvard Square, mostly at Million Year Picnic, a comic book store.

The question about being arrested also interests me, mainly because I've been arrested several times. One was for shoplifting. Another started as shoplifting, but my attempt to create a diversion for a getaway got me thrown in the pokey on a more serious charge. Long story better left untold. The final arrest was with a bunch of anarchists. Myself and another fellow totally destroyed an inflatable Starbuck's cup in Central Square after marching from Harvard Square. This was years ago, but I still remember him slashing the thing with a knife (he had a large one, I don't know why), while I unplugged it from the blower and crushed the prongs on the plug. It was hanging like a flaccid penis within a minute. Le sigh. Good times.

And then there are the other times that I wasn't arrested, but I was taken to a locked psychiatric ward, but not against my will.

So instead of asking people if they ever kissed a boy or farted in an elevator, I'll pick three questions that actually interest me. To answer, simply make a comment or post it on Facebook. Here goes...

1. Do you believe in an afterlife?
2. Are you generally satisfied with existence?
3. Have you ever forgiven your partner for cheating on you? Or could you?

And if you feel compelled, you can answer the bonus question. Have you ever farted during sex? C'mon, you can tell me.