These are old archived entries from my journal, Ornamental Illness. I have eliminated all graphics (except those in context of an entry) to save on my bandwidth usage.


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Friday, November 21, 2003

Soapbox: Never Again Land

We live in a child-centric culture. The biggest holiday of the year has been remodelled around indulging and spoiling our children--our physical children and our inner child. Since the concept of "teenager" was invented in the 50s, our adolescents have been spending longer and longer times in a suspended state of arrested development. Teens today appear and dress like overgrown toddlers...dumb hair, frumpy clothes. When I was a teen in the 70s, we were refining ourselves, growing up. Looking good and sophisticated was important. Look at pictures of people in their teen years from your grandparents generation; they looked like smaller, thinner adults. Stan and I have remarked that people we know who are a decade younger than us seem less mature or settled in life than we were at the same age just ten years earlier--and we thought we were behind because at that time we were still struggling to get through graduate school!

Of course some of this can be blamed on the economic climate. In the early to middle of the last century, one could go directly from high school into a factory job and shortly afterward be able to modestly support a young family. That is impossible now of course. Sometimes young people are forced to delay their maturity just because of the job climate. Moving back in with their parents after college certainly isn't a choice, but a necessity. I feel fortunate that Stan and I were able to buy a house before we were 30...on extremely meager incomes. This is not possible nowadays with equivalent incomes and equivalent housing prices. No amount of preaching the merits of frugality by older generations could make this happen; it's just an economic impossibility.

The irony is that the creation of the "teenager" was actually borne of favorable economic conditions in the middle of the century. There was more disposable inome to be spent on music and clothes and games, and they marketed heavily to that demographic. The concept of teenager was more of a capitalist's invention rather than a sociologist's. And now with a downturned economy, we haven't gone back to kids growing up quickly to face the real world...they stay kids even longer!

Although I had been noticing the dumbing down of the generations for quite a while now (who hasn't?), I thought this was an appropriate time to bring up this issue. Like the rest of those of us in the USA right now, if I choose to watch cable network news, I will be experiencing what appears to be the 24-hour M*chael J*ckson channel, non-stop. Bombings in Istanbul? What's that? No, the only news now is all M*chael, all the time. I found out from a *Canadian* radio show that American channels interrupted their mid-day broadcasts to show footage of MJ being escorted to the police station. Granted, there's not a lot of important stuff on TV to interrupt in the middle of the day, but still. Was it necessary? They must think we're...a bunch of children.

I am incredulous that people are incredulous that MJ could've done the acts he is accused of. Hello? Where have these people been the last decade...or the last three decades to see the bizarre transformation of a young boy into this mentally ill person? What's so hard to believe that a man who thinks of himself as Peter Pan, invites scores of young kids to his ranch called "N*verland", gets facial mutilation to make himself look like some sort of Disney character/Anime character/elfin hybrid, (all in the hopes of appealing to kids, no doubt), completely obliterates his race, and then *publically admits* that he likes sleeping with little boys and "giving them hot milk" is not capable of child molestation?!

Can we say denial?

The fact that parents let their kids stay with him for the ten years after he settled his civil case just goes to show that they didn't have the maturity to be able to see through this wolf in sheep's clothing, or at the very least be cautious and keep their kids at a distance. They are as naive as their kids are. Maybe they don't even see him as human...I know it is actually hard to, but maybe they see him as some benign Disney character in costume...like a life-size Mickey. His face does seem mask-like. Maybe because these kids' parents grew up with his music, he's an idol to them too. See, maybe that's it. I never liked the music in the first place so I couldn't be blinded by it. Maybe if they had better taste in music...oh, there I go again, playing musical snob. But I digress.

What really galls me is when I hear the crying of Americans saying those like myself are too quick to judge, practically proclaiming his innocence. I've even heard this line of reasoning from conservative commentator P*t B*channan, of all people! As this story was breaking earlier this week, Mr. B*channan was saying that M*chael J*ckson seemed like such a nice, gentle man and that he didn't seem like he was capable of intentionally hurting a child. Yes, these are the same people who want to deny two *adult* homosexuals in a committed relationship the right to marry. These are probably the same people who see my choice to *not* have kids (and to use birth control) as bad and amoral. The hypocrisy makes me ill.

"He's just eccentric, it doesn't make him guilty" is a line that I've heard too much in the past few days. Eccentric is painting your house 9 shades of purple and dying your hair shocking pink. Eccentric is having a gigantic footwear collection that takes up all 7 rooms in your house. Eccentric is owning 25 cats. Getting your nose whacked off and upturned in a little point to disguise your sex, wearing white makeup to disguise your race, and inviting thousand of kids to sleep in bed with you, thinking that you *are* Peter Pan, and the countless other odd things he has done is not eccentric. It is a sign of a deeply disturbed mentally ill man who should not be around children. Can't anybody see this?

People need to stop making excuses for him. While these people are so quick to judge others who are not like themselves--the true harmless eccentrics of society--they think MJ is beyond reproach. Quite the double standard. They need to pull their heads out and open their eyes and stop living in Disney-NeverNever-Land. Stop being a child. Grow up and face the music. Maybe you will finally hear how Bad that music is.

Posted by Ann on 11/21/03@10:47 AM CST ..::Link::..

Thursday, November 20, 2003

Some fictional food

Criskets, what are criskets?

How to make some Criskets:

First buy 120 crickets from the pet store, then run them in the blender until they are smooth and creamy. This is something you can call cricket butter.

Then spread the cricket butter on as many triscuits as you can.

Next fry the triscuits, with cricket butter on them, for several minuets. Be sure to let them cool on a dry paper towel before you try them.

Eat and enjoy!

Posted by Stan on 11/20/03@06:02 PM CST ..::Link::..

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Yuck.

TV news stations really need to issue a warning before they show footage of M*chael J*ckson.

"The file footage you are about to see may be disturbing to some. Those who are nauseated by fake micro-nosed albino mutants may wish to turn away."

Cripes. Nearly lost my cookies this noontime.

Posted by Ann on 11/18/03@01:11 PM CST ..::Link::..

Sunday, November 16, 2003

Metal cube in black and silver layers.

I've been working my way through the flu, and it came early this year. This is not the excrement flue, which should be called food poisioning instead of 'the flue' like everyone calls any stomach illness these days. I have the flue - the real flue - with all of the inconviences and pain of influenza.

Friday night, just as I was falling asleep, I had a dream that there was a metal cube on my head. The metal cube was made of black and silver layers, and was dispensing fluid into my head. There was also a something attached to my right arm in order to collect the fluids after they went through my body.

I wake up in the middle of the night and notice that the metal cube was gone, and then I thought to myself 'that was only a dream thing'. I was very thirsty and realized that I didn't have anything to drink. I always keep some water or something by my bed when I have the flue, because it's easy to become dehydrated.

I was stupid not to have something to drink, and I went to the frig. to bet some water. I felt like passing out when I got to the fridg., so I had to lie on the floor for a while before I could make it back to bed with my water.

The diffulty of getting my water could have been avoided if I had remembered to keep a bottle next to my bed, however this did make my dream about the metal cube seem like a sinister event.

Posted by Stan on 11/16/03@07:36 PM CST ..::Link::..

New Words for the Day...

Methamucil: A fiber-based laxative you take when crystal meth makes you constipated.

Sneizure: When you have quick, rapid, multiple sneezes in a row causing you to lose control of the rest of your bodily functions.

Posted by Ann on 11/16/03@07:23 PM CST ..::Link::..

DREAM: Skiing

It was a cold, snowy, grey winter day and Stan and I were heading to Steamboat Springs to go skiing! (WTF!?!?!?!? I've never been on a pair of skis in my life, and if I ever get the urge this late in life--hey, my dad was over 40 before he first went x-country skiing--it sure isn't going to be at some yuppie-ass place like Steamboat Springs, CO, baby!) I was looking at a map and finding parking places, and the map looked just like what I was seeing out the car window. Once we got to the parking place, it was rather vacant. I was wrapping toilet paper around my stocking feet, like a bandage, to keep them warm (WTF?) and then putting plastic bags over them to keep them waterproof. Then I put on my dad's cross country skis, but they were strangely shaped...not flat, but rather tubular, and made out of brushed aluminum. Very odd. But then I started sliding around on the ground, going down a gradual incline. And I was skiing! And it was fun! And I wasn't falling! Yeah, right. But then we had to go back to the car and it was hard climbing the incline with skis on. No spit.

I think I also had a nightmare about Jerry Lewis. Don't ask.

Posted by Ann on 11/16/03@09:52 AM CST ..::Link::..
By Ann @ 20:55 AM CST:11:20:03 ..::Link::..