Archive for October, 2010

A reader asked for something a bit less gloomy in the way of verse, and … for some damned reason I cannot and/or will not explain … this popped out.

(And I had such a serious post in mind … sigh … )

“That damned moon … ”

What happens when there is no time
to run around or fake it
When nothing will come out in rhyme
and all those feelings so sublime
are just left hanging on the line
awaiting actions, not just mime,
(tequila might help … hold the lime)
and little presents, only slime …
We don’t need that, and, in fact, I’m
still here, and being in my prime
too ready just to make it.

We’re cheated out of hours in days
and years and months and minutes
They scream past in so many ways
so fast they’re just a blurry haze
too few yeses … mostly nays
cause turning down potential lays
(some might have come with mayonnaise!)
What sort of price is that we pays?
That damned moon just solicits bays …
the heat in me was NOT a phase …
Where is the time for “in it”s?

Perhaps, it’s just an island thing
that has me waxing corny
I’ve taken off that goddammed ring
(It’s been a while since the last “sting”)
and, yes, I was fond of the bling,
but bowing down before the king
although fun, was just a fling
and now another ding-a-ling
could send me flying on the wing
and, lordy, lordy, how I’d sing …
cuz truth is, folks, I’m horny.

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Poetry from the pits …

“Crappy mood”

I’ve lost my chirpy cheerfulness
and don’t know where to find it
Checking headlines daily
leads me elsewhere in my mind, it
sets me wondering the point and
checking corners all behind it
for some reasons or some rhymes, at least
that just might be combined, it
comes out lacking every time, though,
and I do not dare malign it
The news just proves the world is fucked
Even I can read that sign. Shit.

“Loving the Damned”

Hell fire’s a burning
for those who’re not turning
toward some dude in sandals
(Do fire up some candles!)
Some dead, bearded Jews
with weird taste in shoes
Started, way back, a movement
that, although a cool groove, meant
Some thousand years later
“grace” gets granted to haters
of all who don’t follow
those footprints so shallow

I do see the point
of those “sent” to “anoint”
all these legions of sinners
since each score makes them winners
in some book that addresses
what they think the mess is.

It’s just too bad the scripture
often means “We’ll just rip yer
a new one, because
we’re not buying your picture.”

So for for those who might love me,
yet think they’re above me,
(as if “right” is exclusive)
I don’t make no excuses
I say no to a saviour
and trust that my behavior,
although loaded with drama,
will pay off in my karma.

I cannot be saved,
my road is well-paved
with years of experience
completely engraved.

If it’s deep in a heart
that that sets me apart,
that hell fire’s my fate,
there’s no reason to wait
for this monster to rear
since I know I would hear
“You’re wrong, Luv, it’s over
We’re finished, my dear.”

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Tolerance. I’m all for it, or was. Embracing diversity, respecting the views and beliefs of others, giving plenty of room for different strokes, live-and-let-live and all that hooey.

Yep. No expectation that folks should think like I do just because I’m right, now is there?

I’ve managed a lot of years on this attitude, but I’m just about done with it and feeling a need to start drawing lines in the sand; un-crossable, non-neogtialble lines dividing me from them.

What’s brought on this uncharacteristic lean toward leaning away? Short answer: I’m reacting to reactionaries. I’ve had it with different strokes reining down on heads, arms, legs, and those who limit “let live” to only their own ilk.

A far too steady diet of news stories like this has strained all limits of forbearance.

The attackers forced the man to strip to his underwear and tied him to a chair, the police said. One of the teenage victims was still there, and the “Goonies” ordered him to attack the man. The teenager hit him in the face and burned him with a cigarette on his nipple and penis as the others jeered and shouted gay slurs, the police said. Then the attackers whipped the man with a chain and sodomized him with a small baseball bat.

This, of course, following right on the heels of the deaths of Alec Henrison and Tyler Clementi, Asher Brown, Seth Walsh, Justin Aaberg, Raymond Chase, Billy Lucas … and on and on.

I’m done being shocked and sad. I’m through cutting slack to those who are just too invested in whatever-it-is-stupid-agenda that makes it okay to label gay people as “less than” or “abominations”, to carry signs insisting that “god hates fags” or to judge in any way something that has NOTHING to do with them.

Although I will continue to be amused by kind-hearted and humorous get-backs like this video posted on facebook … ‘like’ them here … and I’ll wear purple on the 20th in support of efforts to raise awareness, I will no longer sit back and listen to anyone wax on about being entitled to harbor even the hint of condemnation for a segment of the population that has been segmented off because of who they choose to love.


People like the moronic Andrew Shirvell get nothing by my wrath and “anti-gay activists” are deemed evil incarnate, especially those who who use their stance to hide behind their preference for behinds.

I won’t limit myself to simply encouraging people to support organizations like The Trevor Project, but now take to vilifying any and all who don’t.

My tolerance is gone, and I don’t give a flying fuck if someone thinks it’s within their rights to disagree over the rightness or wrongness of homosexuality … it’s NOT. Don’t like the idea of gay? No one cares. Keep it to yourself, or, better yet, get a grip, stop spending time conjuring mental images of acts that are none of your damned business and get it through your head that gay people are not only as good as you are, they are very often a whole lot better in all the ways that count on the goodness scale.

Here are some truths that might help with that:

1) Homosexuality is NOT a choice. Some people are blond, some people are Black, some people are gay. (Some are blond AND black AND gay … not always a good look, but nobody’s place to judge.) And who the fuck would choose to be gay in this world? Anyone worried that they might make that “choice” may just want to take another gander at their motivation for condemnation.

2) Gay people could give a shit whether or not you approve. What is important is whether or not you deny rights, and if you do, you’re an asshole.

3) For those who fall back on religion as an excuse to cast aspersions, keep in mind that the story goes that Jesus had two dads, and he turned out okay, and any belief that any god should care what people do with their god-given bits shortchanges that god by reducing him to pin-headed moron status.

Feel free to add to this list …

Yes … I’m pissed off today, even more than I was yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. I’m afraid for so many I love so much, terrified someone will hurt them because of who and how they love. I’m crushed with the thought that fear is growing around them, turning them into hermits when they should be flying free and joyfully. I’m furious that some are forced into hiding themselves behind a mask of heterosexuality, denying their true and lovely natures and their loves.

I’ve tried it other ways, but it’s not worked out so well, and now I’m fighting intolerance with intolerance. So, to anyone who disagrees with me … fuck you. Sandra hates self-righteous homophobes.

Line drawn. Cross over to the good side or stay well away.

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Today I celebrate the life of John Lennon who would be 70 years old had he not been murdered almost 30 years ago. His life and his music changed the world, and his death marked the end of an era of hope and the beginning of the ’80s … a decade of shallow greed and small-mindedness that metastasized throughout our culture and manifests today in polarizing self-righteousness.

How much different our world might be if a poor excuse for a human had not gunned down John Lennon on the 8 December 1980 we cannot know, but that sick and simple act most certainly robbed us all of the wisdom of a great mind, the direction of a generous spirit, the sagacity of a benevolent participant in life’s parade, the perspective of a compassionate genius and a whole lot of music.

We are left with what he had time to give. I share some here today …

“A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality. ”

“If someone thinks that love and peace is a cliche that must have been left behind in the Sixties, that’s his problem. Love and peace are eternal.”

“God is a concept by which we measure our pain.”

“The more I see the less I know for sure.”

Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us, and the world will be as one.

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Although a useful tool, a vital instrument of communication, a bridge between people and cultures, a marketing dream, an unparalleled method of widely dispersing information, and on and on and on with the positive applications that come with, the Internet is also a toy. In the hands of those of limited scope … usually sporting their own personal joy stick … what can be found within the confines of their screen is reduced to a video game.

Like the logical extension of Pong, moving from a virtual Atari ball to dot-munching smileys to aim-shoot-drive-take-over-the-world gee-those-guys-look-realer and realer, the step to webcam ease-of-play can feel a natural progression in the gaming world.

It’s not. It’s different, and it’s time peeps got with the programming.

This Slate Mag article illustrates only too well the potential outcome of aiming a cam with the intent to damage.

Tyler Clementi wanted privacy. Like countless college freshmen before him, he needed a place to make out, but he had a roommate. So he asked his roommate to clear out of their Rutgers dorm room for a couple of hours.

The roommate, Dharun Ravi, obliged him. But Ravi left something behind: his computer. It had a webcam and an Internet connection. That’s how Ravi got back into the room, according to police. He never touched the door or window. He just tapped into the webcam from a friend’s computer down the hall. Through it, he saw Clementi making out with a man. Ravi tweeted his discovery, inviting 148 of his closest friends to access the webcam. A day later, Clementi jumped off the George Washington Bridge and died.

The idea that images that show up on a screen are somehow less than human is prevalent in today’s world. Virtual vultures clog Skype, MSN, Yahoo, Google and iChat with artificial wooing on a point system whose payoff is a peak at privates … SCORE! then move along to score again. “It means nothing. It’s just virtual,” is a common refrain when the practice is called into question and consequences … well … what consequences? After all, these people aren’t real. It’s a game.

Fact is, however, it is a real person on the other end of the connection, a person who may have other ideas and not be scoring according to the same card. A positive response to “Will you respect me in the morning?” is an easier lie when it’s a simple matter of defriending or blocking, and what’s the worry when the sense is that there’s nothing more to that than to choosing Bugs over Daffy? After all, does Minnie mind if folks decide to spend time with Daisy? Of course not. She has no mind to mind with.

Don’t get me wrong … if gamers choose this version of PokeHeMan, share the rules and are over the age of consent, who cares? Mutual agreement on the unhuman nature of the other players can establish an avatar-to-avatar relationship with no holds barred and no potential outcome but outscoring. That seems to me a waste of life moments, but they’re not mine so it’s not in my realm to give a shit.

Unfortunately, it’s more often that dehumaning happens without someone realizing they’ve become a cartoon character.

Of course, voluntary relinquishing of privacy is something completely different than turning on a webcam surreptitiously. That is truly malicious, yet in the case of Tyler Clementi the on-screen-so-not-real aspect seems to fit.

No doubt, Ravi is a nasty prick, but also most likely a spoiled brat raised on video games that encouraged the disconnect it would take to invade another person’s personal life, then broadcast the invasion as widely as possible.

Ravi was watching him from a computer down the hall. You’d think a guy peeping at his roommate through a webcam would understand how public the Internet can be. But Ravi, too, was blind. “Roommate asked for the room till midnight,” he typed. “I went into molly’s room and turned on my webcam. I saw him making out with a dude. Yay.” Then Ravi hit a button, posting the message to Twitter.

Then, later:

Ravi’s exact tweet was: “Anyone with iChat, I dare you to video chat me between the hours of 9:30 and 12. Yes it’s happening again.”

The technology is new-ish, and perhaps hearts and minds will eventually catch up, incorporate the projected person with the human in the cam’s eye. We can hope. That can’t happen too soon, as it’s already too late for some …whether it be some pitiful chick thinking she’s found love only to learn she means nothing because she “means nothing, is just virtual” or a Tyler Clementi

It turned out that he wasn’t a username, an avatar, or some random two-dimensional dude making out with another dude on a video feed. He was flesh and blood. His body hit the water. He died.

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