Publicity done right in an anti-rape campaign: double-page spread, pages glued to one another. After the reader forcefully separates them, the image above is revealed with the caption “if you have to use force, it’s rape”.
THIS IS BRILLIANT
A brilliant campaign. However, this isn’t the only way rape happens. But I do commend what they are doing…
It has been two days and these words have been ringing in my ears. I can’t shake them, no matter how hard I try…
I made some gluten free, lactose free brownies for a get-together. They were a hit. “He” showed up and I told him, “Hey, I made some brownies and there is one left. You can actually eat it because it’s lactose free.” He gave a half-hearted smile and that was it. Maybe twenty minutes later my friend’s mom observed, “Hey! He hasn’t eaten the brownie!” My friend says, “He doesn’t deserve it.” I say to my friend, “Aww, come on. I made them with love!” And he looked me in the eye and said,”Exactly. He doesn’t deserve it.” He doesn’t deserve your love brownie.
A flippant remark? A rude rejoinder? A well-worded warning? Or an observation I’ve been too desperate not to make myself? All I know is it’s haunting me.
I don’t know about you but me? I never feel more alive and awake than at one or two a.m. It doesn’t matter how utterly exhausted I am all the live-long day, but as soon as midnight clears, I am wide awake. I am focused. I am me. It’s an issue that has plagued me since infancy. My mother would see me awake, not crying, not fussing, just…awake. And as a toddler I would sleep and sleep and sleep through the mornings, so much so they thought I may have had a tumor or cancer. They took me to the doctor. But no, it was that I was laying awake most of the night, just…laying there. and by the time I was supposed to wake up, I was ready to fall asleep. Sleep. Once, when I was a teenager I slept for 22 hours. Sleep is my first love. But it only comes to me during the day. I was born at 12:16 am. I almost died at that moment. So, when you come into the world in the dead of night and you almost die and the rest of the accidental Anesthesia doesn’t get out of your system until pretty much the next night…how the FUCK are you supposed to think that getting up in the morning and going to sleep early at night is the way of the world? At 1 am on my first hour of life I was convulsing and on the brink of death but fighting to live. FIGHTING. I slept the rest of the day. Almost thirty years later and nothing has changed. My eyes finally open at around midnight. And I convulse with ideas. But I live in a 10-6:30 world that leaves me in perpetual exhaustion. When you see me. But at night? I am awake.
“ Am I a good person? Deep down, do I even really want to be a good person, or do I only want to seem like a good person so that people (including myself) will approve of me? Is there a difference? How do I ever actually know whether I’m bullshitting myself, morally speaking? ”
Anger is so incredibly toxic, alienating and destructive.
Anger is too easy. It requires of us little effort and a whole lot of energy.
Choose to see any situation through the lens of anger and it will manipulate and skew everything you look at. It will justify your pain for you. It will allow you to create more of the circumstances necessary to validate your hurt and confirm your stories. It will trick you into thinking you have understanding and clarity. It will make enemies and alienate loved ones and strangers alike. It places us in the victim role convincing us that the actions of others are personal.
Anger in and of itself is merely a harbinger of something else unseen from ones current view or angle. It is a call to action and investigation. It is never useful when directed at others or ourselves. It is a hint however and it is a useful emotion at times.
I think we can dig deeper. There is something driving that anger that is far more meaningful and worth exploring…it is crying to be exposed. If we can find out what that thing is, we would be far better served. We could then unpack and satisfy our deepest desires and needs. We could then do that for one another with love and compassion.”
“ I tell my daughters to go for the bad guys. Bring the bad guys home ‘cause I—-the bad guy—-you know, the guy who’s out , sitting on the fence with the boots and the tight jeans and the cigarettes and the spitting and the cursing…I can relate to this guy. He’s up-front and it’s an act. The guy who comes over to pick up my daughter and is all, ‘Oh, Mr. Feldman, you’re so funny. I saw you on Conan the other night…’ Get the HELL out of my house you RAPIST. You know, I’m gonna give my daughter a rape trombone instead of a rape whistle…Never trust anyone who presents himself as kind and generous. ”
David Feldman on Ben Gleib’s podcast, Last Week on Earth. #qotd
JEJ picked me up and we were exactly where we left off almost exactly a year ago. He and I have been friends for over ten years. We went to a diner where we were served eggs and hash with bottomless coffee by a gorgeous trans woman. From there we went to Musso’s for a martini and a woman laughed just like Ricky Ricardo. JEJ pointed it out and as I was laughing about it, a man started laughing like Ricky as well—-you know, the “HErrrrrrHErrrrrrHErrrr” laugh—-and I started snorting, I was laughing so hard. We talked a lot about loss. Then JEJ did a lot of listening. Later on we were discussing the vastness of the universe. And a million other things. We pushed each other to focus on our goals in a way that made sense and wasn’t annoying. On the way to the car we saw a girl who looked like she was wearing a vest of 500 coffee filters and forgot to wear pants as well as girls who looked to have purposely chosen the hardest shoes to walk in when you’re drunk as fuck, almost as if they were challenging gravity to a round of chicken and we looked at each one of them and then talked about perspective. God damn, I’m glad he’s home, even if it’s only for a few weeks.