White Culture – Game of Thrones

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
White Culture – Game of Thrones
Loading
/

No… I am still not over it. Like Noah in “The Notebook” or the election results in Nevada and Georgia by mail-in ballot. “It was never over, it’s still not over.”

Giving you a nice little part two to the last post looking at white culture: Shrek and Breaking Bad specifically, we are moving on, taking our next classic: the surprisingly progressive, feminist stance for Game of Thrones. As protocol, we are just not going to acknowledge the last few episodes. These showrunners–These are the two white men we should be holding most accountable for our problems. Fuck Christopher Columbus and our white savior mentality. D&D or Dooney & Bourke or whoever the imagineers of HBO’s destruction and mutilation of George R.R. Martin’s literary tact of “A Song of Ice and Fire”, deserves to be accountable for their sins, Black Mirror style. I’m thinking that episode where they wake up in a dystopia and can’t remember why they’re there, but are being hunted. 

If we were a novel country really intent on our military prestige, we could be using role-play scenarios like Black Mirror to reform our prison population, because our current criminal justice system is fucked, for the record. That’s the type of conversion therapy I’d really like. Take all the actors and actresses who enjoy being characters for all of those Halloween horror nights at theme parks, slap them into role-play scenarios, then teaching empathy (but with your rape culture or conversion therapy mentality and we’ll hold the same empathy that the Trump administration or GOP held for literally anyone other than themselves in the past year towards whether we should “tell them” its just a set up, ya know?) I like toying with emotions and really drilling in the reality for people. Why shouldn’t rapists, domestic violence abusers, murderers, politicians who use their status for individual financial gain and purposefully mislead the citizen’s they were elected to represent, have to enter a Hunger Games style arena for the amusement of normal, working class individuals who aren’t sociopaths. THAT is the type of MMA, Gladiator-Coliseum television show that I would actually endorse. But only if it involves healthy life lessons and it’s really a trap and we pardon people based around the mentality they employ over their actions or who they (try) to kill. In my reality, technology has advanced enough so we can just pause their actions or Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban time-turner style it so we can adjust the outcomes and save the good (Buckbeak). 

For legal reasons, I feel like I should stress that is a joke. I’m well aware, however much I loved the movie “Law Abiding Citizen”, that subjecting the people who hurt you to the same abuse you were subjected to is not the way to go to employ change. Take the kid in grad school who went on a coked out rampage in my apartment, only to threaten to shoot me and then physically intimidate me in my apartment complex (where we BOTH lived and also my employment) AND out at the local bars. Who accused me of “being too dramatic” for involving the police. THEN he even hired a lawyer to try and turn my own family member’s against me via facebook messenger. COULD I have demanded he go to actual prison instead of just being arrested and having to post bail, do community service, anger management, and domestic violence abuser’s classes? Yes. Could I have gotten him kicked out of school as well so that he had no chances of future employment while these charges were on him and no outlet for education? YES. Did I? No. I think we should all thank me for taking the civil route and not following my impulse of choking him out and throwing him in gator infested waters. Why the fuck do your parents endorse and excuse that behavior? What the fuck did you tell them to manipulate the way they looked at me in court with such vile contempt? Like I was somehow lying or downplaying it? 

The Queen’s Gambit parallels life. It’s chess, not checkers. And just because you’ve excluded women up until this point, doesn’t mean life isn’t a woman’s game. 

By now, we all know my love of Arya Stark. I most closely identified with her character, which will come as no surprise to any men who have dated me, or probably even if this is your first introduction to my sunny disposition and podcast or blog. 

Arya studied her world, seeing how men were treated compared to herself. Played along as best she could while remaining true to her intuition. Understood the deep bonds with animals, particularly those equally stubborn, rogue, yet righteous. She left, wandering around the Earth frequently, covering it before it covered her. She wore several faces, capable of blending in strange cities with false identities seamlessly. She was dangerous, an assassin, though never unprovoked or unjustly. Her steel disposition was exactly appropriate given the conditions in which she was raised, the inability to express herself and the limitations placed upon her simply by being smaller, more vulnerable in sheer physicality. Just by being a woman.

However, let’s take a look at the men and the women Arya and the rest of the Game of Thrones characters of strong moral character, fuck.

Let’s start with Arya and everyone’s good ole fan favorite, Gendry. The white male brunette symbol of unbothered naivety but determined to do the best right thing as he can see to it from his current position and financial status. He followed Brienne of Tarth, learning from her, so we know he isn’t against a nomadic lifestyle or following the lead of a female. Instead of traveling around the world with Arya, though, he is so intent on attaining his own lordship, that he passes her up. He literally chose land ownership over her. I’m gonna say it. She will never fuck him again. This is not gonna be someone she comes back and fucks every few years when she’s in town. She moved on. He made his choice, and “that’s just not her”. Let’s be real, Arya, probably aligns more so with the women in Dorn. 

Let’s next consider most white male’s favorite character, Jon Snow. Oh, my dear, Jon Snow. First, Kit Harrington is a fucking babe. I was introduced to Game of Thrones by my ex boyfriend, the one who I broke up with at his sister’s rehearsal dinner. (Which was well deserved, I’ll explain some other time but he doesn’t deserve the spotlight currently.) House Stark, the noble, hard, and real history of the land, combined with House Targaryen, the fiery, passionate, fantasy brought together as one. It’s no wonder that people rallied behind his character development. I, myself, would love for porn to be legalized and sex work to not be so taboo so we can get the fanfic version of the pornographic romance novels all of these women write because, LADIES, that is hot

As an aside, men are only visual creatures because we have conditioned them to be. Allowing toxic masculinity is female’s downfall as well as men’s and I’m gonna start pulling out Kanye’s “slavery is a choice” comment because it IS a choice to remain ignorant and sheltered in today’s day and age with the internet at your fingertips. It is a privilege to not question your reality, because ignorance is fucking bliss. And that’s because reality is fucking scary. Nobody said this would be easy. There is a reason our default of “women” in the USA is one who is insecure, who questions their worth, who feels unsafe alone in public, who compares themselves to every other woman around them, but it LITERALLY DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THAT WAY. THAT IS THE PRODUCT OF GENERATIONS OF FEMALE SUBMISSION AND REFUSAL TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT AS INAPPROPRIATE IS ACTUALLY BECAUSE WE ARE STILL DOING THINGS FOR SOLELY MALE SATISFACTION.

But the same mentality that convinced men that their entire lives were devoted to growing up, going off to war and dying, leaving women to raise the children and fend for themselves, have now changed so they’re actually returning home, picking up a playboy magazine and convincing their wives to get fake tits and put actual foreign objects that have to be changed every decade or so into their bodies to be more “FASHIONABLE” and “appealing” FOR THEIR OWN PLEASURE. Then, these SAME MALES then won’t pick up a book and learn about how savagely you want them, the allure of the crest of their cock dripping in your cum looks in the moonlight. 

When you entertain that mentality, you are allowing it to continue. Stop entertaining it. Stop entertaining phrases like “do you believe in climate change?” like it’s Santa Claus. Stop allowing the bar to be on the actual ground for men and then for them to dig a Stanley Yelnats-style hole and somehow lower the bar EVEN FURTHER and then have you just accept it because “your clock is ticking”. LADIES. LEVEL THE FUCK UP. We did not grow up watching The Lizzie McGuire Movie just to settle for Paolo. I guarantee you condition them for it to be the NORM for them to actually have to fucking work to be an acceptable, equal partner. THEY CAN DO IT. We are participation trophy-ing our white men and it has got to stop, for their own good. They do not deserve you. Accept that and wait or move on and find someone who actually does.

Live up to your full potential as a human.

Not as a rehabilitation center denying yourself of the light that you provide for others that you somehow have convinced yourself isn’t possible for yourself.

Back to Game of Thrones. And Jon Snow / Aegon Targaryen.

Ygritte, a feisty little wildling. Kissed by fire. Jon Snow was literally the first semi-civilized man from a non-wild society that she encountered. And that turned her on. He was also “the bad guy”, technically, which, as we all know, is definitely a turn on. Nothing like a little rebellion against the patriarchy to get a girl going. So she fucked him. Ygritte is about to be every fucking person out of quarantine who has actually been following guidelines. The STD rates are going to SKYROCKET. I can see it now. It was either Jon Snow or men who made casual rape threats just because they could, which she knows weren’t REALLY “casual” and were secretly indications of what they would try to do the first chance they got, forcing her to fully embrace her wildness and literally always live in a state of survival mode, even amongst her own people. Hats off to you, man. Jon Snow had some TOUGH competition. I will give it to Jon Snow, in his defense, for following his intuition and going down on her because he “just wanted to”. Gotta love a good spontaneity and desire to work for someone ELSE’S pleasure. 10/10. However, in typical white male fashion, he fucks her once and then leaves. A technicality to a “hit it and quit it”. 

Jon Snow, much like Elsa from Frozen, was just pulled by some higher calling and felt like he had to venture into the unknown. It’s why Ygritte was drawn to him, so we don’t fault him for leaving her. She knew that was his character, she just didn’t know him prioritizing honesty to someone else, himself, would take priority over her. This is something, as a human with PTSD, that I also understand. The idea that your life has to “mean something” is one of the greatest human challenges, and one I grapple with constantly (even harder than Jon Snow did with scaling the wall). Why else would you have experienced the sheer number of things that you’ve experienced, been born into? And America loves a good underdog story. Still, Jon Snow took advantage of the opportunity to fuck her and ignored the reality that he had no intention of being with her and they had opposite political views that were soon coming to head. We can like who he is and still condemn the way he treated her, for whatever reason. She would’ve left for him if he had just explained. She was loyal, to HIM, not to the wildlings. He just didn’t want to bother explaining because he didn’t quite understand it himself. 

So then Jon Snow watches while Ygritte dies in his arms. Ironic that she is killed by the same person who later goes on to stab Jon Snow himself. Hindsight bias and all. And Jon loves her, and he knows his life won’t be the same without her. So much so that Kit Harrington went on to marry her in real life because at least he’s not as much of an idiot as his character was. He didn’t want to lose a good thing while he had it. 

Then, Jon swears off women and all, starts his new life, eventually reclaiming his title of Lord of Winterfell and King of the North, only after getting his bitch ass rescued by Sansa and all of her hard political work with one of the most DEVIOUS people in the entire universe, who she traveled solo with for MONTHS (YEARS), who SOLD HER OFF TO A MAN WHO RAPED HER, and Sansa KEPT playing the game of thrones because you either win or you die. Sansa is a domestic violence HERO. She is a fucking G. Anyone who wonders why it takes women so fucking long to come forward, or why you think they don’t speak up, or won’t be believed, or why they only come forward when the harsh realization that, because they don’t, this jackass who made their life hell may solidify himself in a position of power, PLEASE fucking watch Game of Thrones and tell me what the fuck else Sansa should have done. She is hugely under appreciated and the media does NOT cover the reality of her storyline. It’s “uncomfortable”, ya know? She was the next legitimate female in line to her familial heritage, did her fucking duties and listened to her elders, and then her step sibling just shows back up, claims the title over her head, and just expects her to blindly trust his word when there’s not a damn chance Sansa can trust any man’s word ever again, family or not.

We simply don’t give Sansa enough credit. 

So Jon, with Sansa’s help, becomes King of the North and can finally wage war on the white walkers, which IS in fact the more pressing matter than who actually lives in Kings Landing, so props to him. He also managed to convince Queen Daenerys that she should not take her army towards Cersei and she should instead do what all great leaders are actually supposed to be capable of, which is recognizing the reality of life versus death IS more important than pursuit of royal titles or the pursuit of re-election. We should point out, though, that there was significant sexual seduction on Jon Snow’s part (just by the nature of how hot it is when a man is doing the right thing for the greater good.) So who can blame Daenerys for surrendering to the penis. Cardi B live tweeted about how hard this was just a few weeks ago.

Although, since Jon Snow technically bent the knee and it was also AFTER he already agreed to help her, this meant that not only was Daenerys his aunt, but she was also his superior. I’m sure pornhub had a FIELD day with that one. As a white, blonde, college girl, horse girl, athlete with abs, a big butt, small tits, the fetishization of literally EVERY SINGLE THING about me is ridiculous. If I’m in a full lab coat, it’s sexy. If I’m running on the side of a road, it’s sexy. All because I fit these stupid categorized ways for men to express sexual rage and convinces themselves that cumming a tablespoon of secreted fluid that holds your shitty genetic code somehow makes you powerful, which is just, sad. Not to mention new science suggests the Y chromosome, responsible for housing the male DNA, is structurally weaker, as are the balls to a vagina. Yet “men” are the stronger sex. Woohoo! Trump should be a good reminder that just because you declare a point over and over again, doesn’t make it true. The louder you are, the less power you usually ACTUALLY command. Our military leaders could remind themselves of this and that their goal should be to NOT go to war. So at this point, why are women NOT exploiting it for financial gain? This is the USA baby, if I can make money doing something, and marriage is an economic proposition for a woman, why would I not? How is prostitution in general even still illegal with Florida’s shoddy massage parlors, frequently visited by politicians, Texas’ strip club culture in general where pretty much anything goes, Only Fans, and the amount of men who have porn addictions? 

Daenerys was smart. She was more lethal, less encumbered, and more desirable, single. A reminder to all (white, blonde) women everywhere. I would actually be genuinely interested to work on a research project assessing the analytical trends over how different pop culture and entertainment influence preferences throughout time. In reference to pornhub, seeing the trends and cyclical patterns around new HBO shows with increased nudity (because, for some reason, we think the human body in its natural or sexual state is somehow inherently scandalous and dirty, thus making it more enticing) as well as the trends in the sex toy industry, health outcomes of the locality (STD rates, pregnancies, domestic violence trends), and religious norms or societal construct acceptance as a function over time. I imagine it’s like that “molecular cell” version of dynamic societal structure–moving parts working seemingly separate yet coming together to function as a whole and represent a larger picture. You reach a certain action potential of influence and suddenly the behavior is predictably distinct and incapable of returning to its ground state until it has run its course.

…However, within cells and healthy functioning human bodies. The cells that are responsible for purposefully proliferating uncontrollably and spreading diseases are the cancerous ones our immune system (hopefully) gets rid of. 

Let’s take a closer look at Dany. Emilia Clarke. Mother of dragons. Exiled into the free cities as a youth, she broke the captivity of the enslaved all over Yunkai, Mereen, and the Great Grass Sea kinda like how I imagine Abraham Lincoln navigated slavery negotiations in the Northern United States. Baby steps, with progress–ya know? Replacing one corrupt ruling class with another that just enslaves the original masters does nothing in the grand scheme of things. She was content, though, sitting and ruling there with her three lil dragons and endless war because, ultimately, she was an outsider and white blonde woman and would never be accepted. History shows us that won’t really help you in the long run and turmoil was inevitable at some point. *The USA and our military power has entered the chat*. She responded to bullying with bullying, because sometimes there is no clear way to achieve “justice” and a bitch just needs some time to really think about what we’re supposed to do next.

I honestly think by the time Dany meets Jon, she has classically conditioned herself to getting off to men who tell her “no.” Which, I understand, COMPLETELY. Power is sexy. Why do you think we had such an insurgence of BDSM crazes after Fifty Shades of Grey made it more “socially acceptable” to be outwardly sexual with your intrigue by power? Or how, the fact that it was directed FOR WOMEN’S ENTERTAINMENT, was such a NOVEL thing, that it caused a HUGE cascade of changes in cultural norm and societal outrage, to a degree? Dwight Schrute was right about nostalgia and he was also right about the harm in empowering young girls with things like The Girl Scouts, because once they recognize their worth it is FUCKED for all of you. And the attempts to belittle powerful, strong women? Or how powerful women were condemned as witches? There’s a reason Khaleesi was a sex symbol. The art of seduction, the allure of power, and every so often, wrapped into the body of a devious analyst incapable of ignoring the horrors of the world because just being a woman means you were subjected to them, even from your facade of a pedestal, however temporarily, and your outward physical appeal offers you a natural in and ability to manipulate circles you would otherwise have to ask to be amongst? Dany’s success has all come after men have repeatedly told her “no”, and we don’t expect her to find the well-respected king in front of her, also a chosen leader amongst his followers, telling her “no” to REALLY drive her wild? She stood no chance and her entire life she was conditioning herself for this to be her weakness.

By the time she meets Jon, Dany had lived a life in servitude to her narcissistic brother, who she was smarter than and, being a woman, had always had to learn patience and tact. Her brother sold her off, to a hot ass dude, atleast, but, again, a guy that raped her mercilessly and ran the risk of having a reputation as a savage murderer, so she had to play her cards VERY carefully. My favorite part of “The Handmaid’s Tale” is the Margaret Atwood quote about how “men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them.” Granted, Dany handles her own, the Stockholm Syndrome turns to love (which is really just a survival tactic because she had no other option so your mind just learns to accept it) and, when Khal Drogo dies, Dany maintains power after her little Harley-Quinn-esque stunt with the fire. Dany at some point takes a STRICTLY cuckold lover in the form of Jorah Mormont, who understands and does not expect Dany to love him back. This is the kind of unrequited love we WANT white men to endorse. Yassss king, go off and cure your mysterious illness and come back with your newfound freedom to live under my servitude and expect nothing but greatness from me. Absolutely nothing sexual in nature. You’re not friendzoned. It’s just, like, “off” the table. You’re not a “simp” for respecting women, by the way, in case I haven’t said it enough. Bitch, let me be your khaleesi and go off to war alongside me, understand I have a greater purpose that does not include your cock inside of me, and live your life driven by the enjoyment of finally serving good.

If you happen to fall in love with me in the process that is the price we pay.

What is so difficult about that for men to understand? 

Obviously, we see why two white male writers decided they just had to kill her off so haphazardly and abruptly and to this day have no explanation for why they felt it was necessary to cram an entire movie into each episode instead of just advancing the plot and providing the details we wanted. We can’t empower females THAT much, though. The story makes WAY more sense with this rushed, botched, unapologetic mentality. Literally nobody is to blame in that except for the writers and producers. The actors actually felt like THEY were being attacked in interviews after the season finale. Your characters WERE FINE. We just wanted THREE MORE SEASONS worth of information from them. 

Dany also has an absolute banger of a slampiece in Daario, though, and I’m not sure if it’s just my weakness for white brunette men with longer hair and armour but damn. He did peacock a little too much for my liking, but again, like Dany, unfortunately into it. However, let’s give her props for knowing those men do not make good husbands and you should not give them equal ruling power. Dany still agrees to the marriage of Hizdahr zo Loraq who ultimately tries to kill her, though, so her judgment, when influenced by other men in her cabinet, is at least “off”, at best. Her intuition told her not to trust him, just to throw it out there, she just ultimately listened to the advice of her advisors and how being married would make her more “likeable” for the citizens to accept. All fitting conversation, particularly since a woman (or person in general) is most likely to be murdered by someone they actually know, which turned out to be the exact scenario that ultimately unveiled itself in the coliseum, so anyone with even a hint of true crime obsession should have expected this. It was still disappointing because, c’mon Dany, I know it wasn’t the threat of tribal gang rape with a misstep, it was just swift death or imprisonment to be kept as a figurine as long as her beauty lasted, but the red flags were there. Marriage was an economic proposition from him from the beginning. He had no interest in you or your motives. Only your power. And you deserve to be wholly admired. Do not settle.

So, enter, Jon Snow. The first guy to tell her no and that he won’t bend the knee. Ironic, given his willingness to bend the knee for Ygritte. He-yo. However, Jon Snow, man of his word, already has people who are counting on him, so that Stark loyalty holds out and he will not be swayed by the dangerous waters of Daenery’s WAP. Dany, loving a good “reverse psychology” move, suddenly feels compelled to do exactly what he wants. He wasn’t intimidated by her, like most other guys, and he called her on her bullshit. He made her shift her perspective. And, because she is a reasonable woman whose character was horribly butchered by a bunch of people maddened to sell out for Star Wars who ultimately got cut from that project so karma is a bitch, she listens to reason and agrees. Then, because honesty and accountability is sexy, she fucks the shit out of him and his muscular ass on her ship. You know she probably fucked him on one of those dragons too, off screen. Her own version of the mile high club. A very exclusive club. I’m an equestrian and I’m just gonna say there’s a lot of similarities in the hip action of riding horses and riding dicks and it’s annoyingly accurate because men then proceed to fetishize everything “country” about me and send me snapchats of their boots and a Bud Light ( as if my beer of choice isn’t Bud Heavy) when they aren’t even DIRTY BOOTS. They’re perfectly clean because these men AREN’T COUNTRY AT ALL and just associate horse girl porn with me. Or, because I’m a horse girl, and had access to riding crops at a younger age, understand what power they wield and how to employ them. Because I’m not exclusively a sexual freak, though, unlike American men seem to be because sexuality is still so repressed with our Christian influence, I can separate it and not get turned on by the idea of literally just riding my fucking horses. Just like Daenerys can ride her dragon into battle and have practical weaponry that isn’t sexual by default, it just “can be” by occasion. 

On the theme of flying dragons, just think of what we will be able to do with AI porn in the future in reference to fantasy novels? This is why we should invest in the gaming communities. Because our time could be invested in lifelike fantasy porn and even better Lord of the Rings series over leaking celebrity nudes through a hotel door lock or fake smoke detector. I’d rather have a ridiculous amount of sex-crazy furries postgaming an EDC carnival with sexual promiscuity than construction workers who catcall me and follow me on my walk from my apartment, where I live alone, to my college class in the same hospital they’re employed to work on. You try to tell me the millennial youth waited in line overnight in freezing temperatures to be the first in a theatre to see Princess Leia, Legolas, Hermione, yet there would not be a market for really well-done porn parodies or movies that are actual stories and the sex is both realistic and artistic and contributes legitimately to the story and relationship? Legalize porn. Require diversity in male-dominated industries and consumer-protection laws. This is what I was born for. I will Lady Gaga the fuck out of the porn industry as the actress, costume design, director, producer, lawyer, everything. I will be my only fan. 

I’m kidding (not really). Dany, whether it’s the impending doom of an upcoming battle or the enjoyment of the one time when, at his “manliest”, Jon Snow has to surrender fully to her in order to cum, keeps Jon Snow wrapped around her finger, for a time. In typical white male history, he looks the other way during a few tyrannical missteps and abuses of power, but then, only once his own loyalty is questioned, does he step forward to condemn her use of violence. In doing so, daggering her under false pretenses. I will agree with Jon Snow in that leaders should have to deal the hand of violence themselves. At the very least, I’m with Jon Snow that they should be held accountable for the violence they are responsible for, whether they cause it indirectly or not. In the US, our politicians serve the many faced god and only emerge as it benefits them before retreating into their wealthy, luxurious seclusion of mystery. That or they go to war under the premise of terrorism but really benefitting the oil industry in Texas and once their term is over they just conveniently step aside and comfortably attend Cowboys NFL games with Ellen Degeneres. Every once in a while, though, we still get a real Tywin Lannister (Jeff Bezos) content to rule over the peasants in flea bottom from his golden toilet, fully capable and having the funds to personally change their conditions but choosing not to, pretending that the dynasty he created is NOT problematic in major ways and is just a clever use of the system, embraced by white men everywhere who refuse to actually google the difference in minimum wage from ten years ago compared to now and cost of living to account for inflation with what a public state college cost them back in the day. Most of the time, the men in our lives are the Jon Snows, though. The signs were all there, he was always going to be the hot, powerful woman’s downfall, and he only ultimately stepped forward when the woman both no longer benefited him in any way and he could no longer ignore his problems and hope they solved themselves.

Why are we supposed to idolize this man, as white women? 

That’s allllll I’m saying to this. 

I just think we, as a collective whole, should step back and really look at white culture and see the kind of things we continue to encourage and promote.

Jon had told Dany “no”, before. He could have done so, PRIVATELY. Granted, the burning of the Tarley’s was a bit off kilter but Europeans will line up to view public executions for fun. These were men at war, and whether they were related to Sam or not, they were stubborn, adamant men who refused to listen to reason in false shows of bravado, but, like Bronn points out, all men will shit themselves when they die all the same. The only part about Jon Snow disagreeing with her that she kept getting annoyed with was when, as natives to the land she was supposedly born into but then OUTCAST from, because she was persecuted BEGINNING AT BIRTH by people who wanted her dead, her only allies she had in this supposedly homeland (that is completely foreign to her) kept criticizing her in front of a group of other natives who also had armies nearby and doubted her claim to the throne. She was right to be both paranoid and a little pissed. Jon didn’t want to explain his logic behind her being a “different kind of ruler”. Logic, which, need I remind you, she CONSTANTLY spoke passionately of herself, on SEVERAL occasions, so assuming she was just ignorant to it after risking life and limb and entire army to fight the Night King for these ungrateful fucks, is a little, out of character. 

Even factoring in Missandei’s murder, the death of one, and now two, of her dragons, and what an incorrigible twat Cersei Lannister was, we were expected to believe that a white woman whose character trajectory lies in daddy issues and distinctly making a point of NOT living up to her mad king father’s name STILL TURNED OUT BAD? After all of that trauma? 

Jon Snow could’ve snuck into her bedroom, taken her aside in the hall, literally anything else to explain his own tactics or methods of invasion and instead he stood by then let her fall upon his dagger and we were supposed to think it was the “right” thing.

Tragic that our bar for men is so fucking low. 

Let’s switch directions again and give a special shout out to Melisandre. Amazing sexual goddess, she would 100% be on witchtok if she had tik tok. A real horoscope hippie woman, probably sells essential oils on instagram while also having paypigs in her DMs, the usual. A true mark of ageism in Hollywood when she’s weakest at her ugliest and oldest. Her power is hidden in all of her gems. Not to derail the conversation–but did you know jewelry and gems were common gifts for women for generations because, since women weren’t allowed to even open their own bank accounts until like the 1970’s, if they had to leave abruptly, they could steal away with their valuables and have something to sell off and afford to survive, or bribe would-be captors. However, that bath scene with Melisandre should also be a solid reminder for all men that women can look VERY different with filters, make up, and plastic surgery.

 What I, personally, would like, is for women to not feel like they need to do so many things, particularly not FOR MEN.

Working in the medical industry, I struggle because I am all for plastic surgery. My sutures for Mohs have often been compared to a plastic surgeon’s closures. I was so flattered. However, getting surgery to change an insecurity does not change the REASON for the insecurity. 

Why do you feel like something is wrong with your body? 

Why is our “default” woman in society somebody who is self conscious, doubting his/her/themselves?

This affects men too, so I want y’all to listen and think before you ever encourage, or dare, SUGGEST to a woman that she gets plastic surgery or some medical procedure that could significantly alter her nerve endings and jeopardize her life.

This isn’t anti-trans in any way, either, for full disclosure. At no point in the future do I want to embody any kind of JK Rowling energy post 2010 to this planet. I fully understand body dysmorphia and how problematic it is for society. We have the medical procedures in place, we might as well use them if it makes people feel more comfortable in their natural selves. That is not what’s under discussion. Feeling “uncomfortable” in your body so that you can accept yourself is VERY different from being socially bullied into feeling like you need to physically change yourself FOR THE ACCEPTANCE OF OTHERS, particularly, men and lovers. 

When you begin the process of questioning your gender identity, you have regular visits with healthcare providers, access to hormonal treatments, close monitoring of how your hormones are affected and changing throughout the process, and, most of all, THERAPY. You have to talk about why you identify differently or what caused these feelings to emerge. Yet, when women are constantly going through hormonal changes and fluctuations beyond their control, and we place them in environments with unrealistic expectations for them compared to virtually any male in the vicinity, why do we not expect them to get some type of body dysmorphia, as well? Why do we cater to the fact that they’ll pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to PHYSICALLY CHANGE THE WAY THEY LOOK, not for themselves, but for the attractive allure of MATING, just like Melisandre’s horny ass did? Why do we allow them to get pretty significant, although routine, medical procedures, “for fun” “because they can” without asking why they should. I know women who OPENED UP CREDIT CARDS to pay for cosmetic procedures. Who fucked men they didn’t even LIKE, to get cosmetic procedures. Who got cosmetic procedures FOR MEN, only to find them uncomfortable, if not deadly, just for those men to cheat. We fully enable that cultural mentality. We allow it to be the norm for women to cater to men on a silver platter, to adjust their sexuality for the male gaze. We actually do not question or protect consumers in any way, shape, or form, and consumers are, historically, most commonly women, so why should we? They’re paying customers, they have the expendable cash. 

We allow women like the Kardashians to exploit it. How could we not though? Kim changed her male-driven audience and playboy/sex tape exposure to a female, young adult, housewife, and queer audience. Which is hard for me to judge them, because I’m all about self growth and I really try to find common ground over the fact that they’re just people in the USA trying to make a dollar in a capitalist society. They once exploited the male gaze for the money of men, though, and now exploit women, children, and youth feeling like they need to pay for make up to create entirely new characters for themselves in order to be loved. We idolize athletes for throwing a ball at a target at a certain speed. For perfecting the skills at their disposal that society told them to hone. Why should we not love a woman’s creative concept in visual, life form–themselves as their own muses? Why do we admire it for an artist to see the worth in something else but consider it narcissism to be self-confident and invest in yourself? Particularly in a society that places individualism above all else–why are the women treated differently for such? 

The same fan base that mocks the Kardashians and complains about how prevalent they are want to hear Tomi Lahren’s view points on every serious political topic in the news, so they can simmer down. We don’t come for Jeff Bezos with the same energy we come for the Kardashians, and they at least do a lot to address women’s fertility struggles, co-parenting and abnormal family dynamics, the criminal justice system, while also capitalizing on the beauty and fashion industries and things like fit teas which exploit the USA’s poor educational system, lack of health, sustainable industry, and consumer welfare. Kourtney, the only sane one, literally was mocked for wanting to enjoy her cash money millionaire status and just be a fucking mom. I really do try to find the good in everyone. However, sitting out this election silently because your husband refuses to go on medication and runs for president, likely in some back-alley deal to secure funding for his Yeezy Christian campaign and school, was a hard one to look past. Kanye thinks he’s some kind of Lebron, when really he just wants people to worship HIM. Lebron you can tell is a genuinely good dude and family person. That is a man of some character. The fact that he also has talent? Incredible. That’s also how you can tell Lebron is an athlete, because he knows when he’s no longer physically performing to their liking, his “fans” will turn against him. Kanye, however, just switches musical genres with a “the customer is always right” mentality and is following the money all the way to the megachurches. Much like the Rock, I hope Lebron has nothing but good energy headed his way. Kanye, though. Musical GENIUS. Mozart of the rap genre. Absolute nightmare narcissistic jerk in every other realm. He and Kim’s marriage works because, at least at one point, he loved Kim as much as she loves herself. As she should, because, again, you SHOULD love yourself. It’s not narcissistic to inherently love yourself and be proud or share what you do or even capitalize on it. The narcissism is both in the intent behind it and what you choose to do with your time once you DO have that platform. 

Industries like fashion, make up, interior design and homemaking, etc. are some of the only female dominated industries because they were the easiest transitions in the American economy from housewives. Kylie Jenner being a billionaire in an industry that exploits the need to change yourself or mask how you look doesn’t interest me–however empowering she finds it. For the beautiful, artistic looks, sure, but that’s the outspoken minority of influencers and not the majority of her product users or consumers. I honestly find it incredibly sad that the media bullied her so much that she has sought out that much work. Now, Kylie Jenner funding a tech firm for women to just be engineers and creators for problems unique to women that largely go underfunded? How about a research center aimed at women in science who can study and hypothesize without having to answer to the elitist “professionalism” of the stem community or wear high heels and skirts instead of athleisure? How often would you wear make up if you weren’t interested in being perceived a certain way, for someone else’s, but PARTICULARLY the male gaze? How many pairs of high heels would you insist on wearing, despite their discomfort? How many beauty products would you buy and then spend HOURS doing, convincing yourself that you’re “investing in your skin” while really you’re just investing in vanity? How much more productive would your time actually be if you invested it in something other than the pursuit of a mate or the religious study of a Hollywood white-washed protagonist that you’ve somehow deluded yourself into thinking wasn’t a liberal? 

I’m not undermining these industries either. I’m just saying finding your niche in an industry that is already dominated by people “just like you” isn’t novel in any way. You’re not bringing something new if you just want to be the objectively “best” new artist. If you like make-up, be a fucking biochemist and learn how to make the actual make-up and what effects different product lines have on skin and things like THAT. If you’re a hairdresser? Get a chemistry degree and learn how the products you use ACTUALLY affect the biological condition of your hair cells. Or how much of it is complete bullshit. Empowering women means not being dependent on males, for ANYTHING, or the need for partnership in general, for anything, including a paycheck or catering solely to that male audience. Go into science and stem and make these industries and our country more ethical, diverse, and profitable without almost exclusively benefitting massive corporations and generational wealth. Which, in the Kardashian’s defense, they have a lot of fucking kids, they need a lot of generational wealth. Stop continuing to push the confidence good skin, hair, or pants that actually have pockets feel BECAUSE OF HOW THEY MAKE YOU FEEL IN FRONT OF MEN, instead of focusing on how it makes you feel about yourself. At the end of the day, spending hours of your time in front of a mirror, identifying and covering your imaginary perceived flaws, just to be “socially acceptable” is not “empowerment” in any form. 

Toxic masculinity is being threatened because the push-up bra, fake tit, Barbie mentality of US frat culture is being called into chaos with movies like “Bombshell” and their precious Margot Robbie going off the rails with Harley Quinn once Birds of Prey was written for WOMEN, and not men, so, naturally, the men were a little butthurt. They wanted her onscreen, visually appealing for their gaze, and naivety. When she wisened up, dressed for practicality, and beat them at their own game, they lost interest. And Margot Robbie probably LOVES to play these characters fooling men at their own games. Sexuality is a weapon, it is toxic masculinity’s weakness and it pisses the ever loving fuck out of men for realizing, not that they are powerless to it (because they aren’t) but that women are only willing to do it as long as they still benefit from it. And gone are the days when women want to sit around all day and wait for a man. They have goals of their own, ideas, innovations, things to offer the world other than exclusively children and their bodies. THOSE are the women we should be highlighting. But when every industry, private corporation, wealthy family in the USA is historically controlled by a minute portion of our citizenship, largely, white, religious families, you’re still catering to male mentality as long as you play into it. And the most annoying part is that you have to play into it if you want to get your foot in the door sometimes. You can’t just topple structures from outside–catapulting insults, hurling scientific notations and theories and evidence just for them to barricade themselves within their palaces. You have to Trojan horse the fuck out of life. Gain their interest, or at least curiosity, and sometimes even just fear will work. Methodically plan your ruse. Execute flawlessly. You can burn the place down around you, emerging from the flames like Daenerys, or haphazardly leap out in faith, expose your own vulnerability, but know that doing so is necessary to let you sink the dagger in. 

Call Her Daddy splits and some guys are still clinging to Dave Portnoy because he was the Spartan warrior that led them to victory that an average looking white guy perpetuating the Johnny Knoxville/ Jackass style of drinking culture with the ego of Dan Bilzerian, who goes on to publicly humiliate Sofia Franklyn in a hate campaign akin to the Monica Lewinsky takedown by the media and Hilary Clinton back in the day, all for just knowing her fucking worth and what the money actually was–her image, likeness, persona, and talent, and yet, that man is still somebody you like. That is exactly how Donald Trump became president because TFM and TSM became a cult mentality, particularly for the SEC, college football and the NFL became modern day slavery and exploitation of someone, commonly black men’s, bodies for physical power and financial gain, only a minute portion of which is being routed to the actual man in question, though. You wonder why professional NFL players won’t let their own children play? Do not get me started on the influencer parade that has become a once comedic podcast. Flaunting drama, insecurity, and sexual deviance for solely external validation and financial profit over using it to become a better person is straight up not the move. 

But how can I assert that when we live in a capitalist economy and money is power? When you don’t need an education to be financially successful, but the point of being and becoming financially successful enough so you can ACTUALLY enjoy who you are as a person should not be a “far off dream”. Who you are as a person should affect your influence in this world, and unfortunately our society focuses and highlights and continues to fund the negative. Look at fucking Logan Paul fighting Conor McGregor? Don’t even get me started on how MMA is one of the least reputable sports in my opinion, because we should never “glorify” barbery just because your pathetic upbringing made you have to literally fight to survive so much so that you’re willing to risk and endorse significant brain trauma because you bring so little to the table elsewhere. Why is that our choice for society? Why is it SO EASY to become rich and powerful from being a shitty fucking human? Change our fucking tax break system, for the love of god and tax the fucking rich so scientists can afford to eat and healthcare officials can pay their bills DURING A PANDEMIC AND JUST IN GENERAL. 

HOW THE FUCK DID YOU ALL THINK AMERICA BECAME “THE BEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD”? (Which, by the way, is NOT the case.) Do you think it was solely because we had jackasses who were so desperate to assert their dominance and worth, which, you sit on a throne of fucking lies because seriously how the fuck is the legacy you want to leave behind in the world you being such a fucking twat that you videotape a dead body for a prank youtube channel in a foreign country that we BOMBED THE FUCK OUT OF DURING WORLD WAR II AND HORRIBLY ALTERED FOR GENERATIONS TO COME AND WHO ALREADY HAS A SIGNIFICANT SUICIDE PROBLEM? You literally do not deserve to have a fucking platform and you think that, because you can control the minds of those who are naive or caught up in the entertainment value of it, that you know all BECAUSE you’re financially successful. 

The people who are actually smart and deserve these kinds of platforms are not those who are so egotistical that they refuse to use it to re-examine their own beliefs. They use it “solely” for entertainment or an escape because that’s probably how it functions for them to avoid confronting the emptiness within them. It gives the false pretense that athletes or the NBA should somehow have ANY sway in reopening the economy when, in reality, the government should be more than competent enough to be able to pay individuals to literally stay the fuck home for a few weeks. Pause all of these imaginary payments on bullshit businesses, properties, or items that were just created as ways to harness capitalism. None of it matters. Your small business SHOULDN’T go under because you literally shouldn’t have to leave your house. In a country with insecure and unaffordable housing, lack of emphasis on healthcare and generations of propaganda on how universal healthcare was “unrealistic”, as well as absolutely no evidence of our default “trickle down economics” was working because, surprise, surprise, it was never going to, our ability to avoid the realities of the world and conveniently turn on a baseball or football game (sports that very few, if any, other countries play), watch reality tv about drinking, partying, and dating as if those are actually the only things important in this world, and numbing ourselves to the bleak outlook of the society around us because we’re too afraid to fail at changing it, needs to be confronted. We cannot keep idolizing symbols who are literally just dribbling a fucking ball over the people who keep our society functioning in the background, the actual essentials, the ones who let you forget the hard stuff because you don’t personally have to focus on it. Not the ones who give you the distraction. Those people should absolutely not have to live in poverty just because they “chose” to help people. What the actual fuck is wrong with all of you? 

And you conflate the fact that you attribute money and financial success to power and education, that someone like Dave Portnoy, a guy who made it rich just enjoying college sports, hot women, and different pizza, is some symbol of what YOU, too, can accomplish. If this pot bellied lunatic who looks like one of Vinny from Jersey Shore’s distant cousins, or maybe even one of the country style wannabe-suburban blue collar men Snooki would’ve smushed back in the day. I don’t listen to the platform much, since I’m an actual adult (in age, not mentality) and don’t think it’s really the move to empower fraternal culture mentality like that. Especially not after my ex boyfriend’s entire family was part of a very much alive and thriving chapter of KA at Auburn, whose founder was ~actually~ Robert E. Lee. A fact they GENUINELY enjoy sharing and take pride in. Which is difficult, because, despite not being a sorority girl myself, a lot of my friends are. I enjoy the opportunity for creative outlets it provides: the parties, themes, and functions. The idea behind groups of women or men united with a common goal and becoming a better version of themselves? I like that! But that’s usually NOT the norm in how they function. 

How is it that children in Germany grow up visiting actual concentration camps, learning the horrors of their history so that it doesn’t dare repeat itself, yet the American education system is framed in such a way that we think racial segregation happened MILLENIUMS ago and children in Florida reenact the civil war for fun and not for educational purposes to remind them of how inappropriate eugenic based motivating factors are? We had a fascist government and nearly half of all voting Americans were too blind by the Republican cult mentality of always “standing your ground”, “defending their stance” that they don’t realize developed nations are supposed to have actually competent governments that can coordinate and provide things like healthcare, safety of all citizens, affordable housing. Almost every Jewish symbol in our country, including the sole Anne Frank memorial has been vandalized this Hanukkah by white supremacists. How the fuck did some of you grow up reading Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and NOT realize who the bad fucking people in this country are? Hint: it’s generally not the political party accepting the results of a fair and honest election in an honorable manner, employing a diverse staff, and trying to work on things that actually fucking matter in keeping society functioning over falsely thinking that just because you make a paycheck and have an opinion, that it should actually matter at all. Just because your stupid made up wall street job of managing imaginary accounts that are supposed to correlate to your worth and productivity as a human being is not a legitimate job and you feel like your life is a made up lie, so instead of working on being a better person, switching into a field that actually helps people, whatever, you just fuel your life with drugs, money, and enough women to avoid the reality that you might be a little gay yourself (you’re at least curious), or you DO in fact feel inadequate about the size of your dick, or OWNING this reality in a way that helps those who follow you not have to go through the same torment you went through. Or at least feel like they’re not alone. 

The men of Dorn, tying it back to Game of Thrones, were not brutishly toxic males, and they also lived in sandy beach havens where the sun always shone. Oberlin oozed sex appeal more than Michael Scott caked in cheese puff dust. He was masculine without trying. He also enjoyed the pleasures of other men. Shoutout to my fellow bi/pansexuals. Yet, the power lay within the sand snakes, the devious vipers dripped in gold and poisons. The women. They would’ve been the arsenic poisoner had they been cast in Chicago’s “Cell Block Tango” (A song I have personally had on “repeat” since Donald Trump started denying the election results, just saying). Only, the men of Dorn could fucking recognize their venom and instead of keeping them submissive by making prostitution illegal for anyone who couldn’t pay off the officers or get lawyers to bully others into submission, or even being taken advantage of by the officers themselves. The men in Florida would rather keep things like prostitution and drugs illegal–even though the economy suffers and their tax dollars pay for someone to be in jail for soliciting themselves… all the while they purchase a $40 meal at Applebee’s and think it entitles them to sex in real life. In reality, the ones in power or those like Dave Portnoy, who continue to support politicians who act like this, are the ones who know they won’t actually get laid if women actually understood what pathetic options are available (and their wealth didn’t mean anything) and flaunted in front of them.

Honey, save yourself the trouble and just talk to lonely pay pigs on the internet. At least they’re aware they are both pigs and will pay you adequately for your time. You can always just tell people that you’re an accountant. 

Bottom line, the white men in Game of Thrones other than Samwell Tarly and Jorah Mormont were mostly trash–about what I expected, ratio-wise, ya know. A few final thoughts,

I would probably fuck Bran in his wheelchair. Something about him being all-knowing just makes him look like a human encyclopedia of knowledge and gets me all hot and bothered. Plus, he’s one with the trees and I have this weird love for trees because I feel at home amongst them. We can all blame Orlando Bloom as Legolas awakening my bisexuality from a young age and growing up knowing the trees around our house, built on a slope, was purposefully done so because the trees protect our house both from lightning and the F5 tornado that came through in 2002. I feel safe amongst them, they offer security, they cradled my car when I totaled it and went 30 yards into the treeline but protected me. I am the Lorax of the 21st century and I will never not speak for them. To answer your questions, yes, I will rewatch Lord of the Rings and do episodes on my perceptions for each movie as well. Quarantine needs this.

How cool is it that Ravens were used by George R. R. Martin too, and ravens can genetically pass on grudges towards individual humans for GENERATIONS, Maleficent style? This is why people need to study science and focus less on dating. So we can save the world and make really cool, entertaining educational shows thanks to all of our cool new animal facts. 

Let’s have Disney order a live-action of The Little Mermaid with those merpeople who work at Witchee Wachee Springs in Florida and just have season after season of deep-sea Barbie-meets-Below-Deck-meets-NCIS exploring the oceans that we have NO CLUE what is in? Can we just take a brief pause to imagine our own version of Ariel navigating shark infested waters with her Jar Jar Binks version of a sidekick in Flounder through the different oceans around the world in the modern day? She could come upon submarines carrying kilos of cocaine to Miami, Chinese submarines lounging where they shouldn’t be (realistically, more like American), seven new species of whales! Disney could totally take Ariel and make her into a Wonder Woman-esque super hero of sorts but noooooo. She has to warn about the perils of signing an NDA or failing to thoroughly read and consider a contract that the other party is aware is taking advantage of you the entire time–as if we didn’t watch that play out in real life with Taylor Swift and Scooter Braun. Whether it was my parent’s divorce or this, I have successfully and thoroughly been forewarned about entering a legal contract with a man, so shout out to her. Taylor, thankfully, had the FUCKING BADASSERY to stick it to “The Man” (pun intended) and use her voice and awareness and knowledge, and CONTINUES to use her voice and awareness and knowledge, to speak out against injustice, to understand and utilize the power of her platform for good, and to always be true to herself and openly vulnerable, in soft and hardened pain. No. Instead, we just get stuck with a centaur version of a manatee who gives up everything for a man that was too visually driven to realize she literally did not speak. It is truly no wonder the men in our country struggle to understand consent or intimidation or all that jazz.

Alright that about sums it up for this. I still love Game of Thrones and have long given up on ever living to read the Winds of Winter, but I’m sure I’ll be back to expand on this topic eventually.

White Culture – Shrek and Breaking Bad

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
White Culture – Shrek and Breaking Bad
Loading
/

Podcasting during quarantine just feels like the Weasley Twins in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with their little radio show.

Friendly reminder that you can follow me on instagram if you haven’t realized their new terms of service specifically outlines how they can track for text messages, access your contacts, watch you through your front facing camera even if it’s not open, which, mind you, they were already doing, they just weren’t explicitly telling you.

Anyways, I’ve been absent for a few weeks. I like to make a point of not always being predictable or accountable. I think it’s best for all of us, just so we all know what to expect. I’m kidding…Kinda.

No, honestly, quarantine has been hard. Obviously, I was working as an epidemiologist in Florida on it for a few months and was teaching remotely. I thought Biden winning the election would alleviate some of the stress, but it turns out it’s “surprisingly” not comforting to realize there was only a 4% difference in who wanted fascism in this country. Crazy, right. On top of that, I had 2 people in my life commit suicide within 3 weeks of each other, then my grandfather died, then my childhood pony died, and then I had to experience the stress of holidays when I don’t speak to the majority of my biological family. I was, however, the only family member invited to my GAY side of the family’s Thanksgiving. The dinner was wonderful and it may be one of the last times I will get to see my Godmother, as she has had terminal cancer for a few years. Her children are risking the chance of flying over to DC for Christmas, and they didn’t agree for Thanksgiving, so I take that as a sign she’s not doing too well in spite of what she says. 

We were laughing about art, as my godmother is responsible for introducing me to artists like Monet, and my FAVORITE FAVORITE painting to date (even with how much I love studying Van Gogh and Salvador Dali’s work) is “The Fingerprint Granny”, by Chuck Close, that was hanging in the National Gallery of Art in DC. It’s this huge black and white portrait of a grandma that is made with thumbprints. It’s incredible, I love it. I actually got to meet him on a field trip my senior year of high school. He drives a cool x-men type wheelchair. Well, turns out, like all our favorite white men, he was responsible for abusing his position of power as a superior and title as an “artiste” to sexually abuse the women, even minors, who would work for him. I’m now rethinking why his assistant eagerly asked ME what I thought about it instead of the 10 other classmates that were also looking at the painting around me. #HotGirlPrivilege 

So, these past few weeks have been pretty heavy for me. Fittingly so. I pretty much just shut down as a person for a few weeks. Went into a depression induced hibernation for a while. Am I out of it? Probably not. I don’t ever think people move on from pain rooted in sadness or loss, especially permanent events. The idea of just shoving it aside doesn’t make any sense to me. I think healthy people find different perspectives on it, channel it into a positive even when it’s the most complicated, heartbreaking backstory you’ve ever heard. Some people choose to dismiss it, because they’re either so sociopathic they don’t care or they’re too scared to admit they don’t like themselves or what pain they’ve caused. Some people are embarrassed to need others, so they refuse to admit they do. I think it’s most natural to myself to embrace it. To learn from my experiences. The pain I’ve caused myself and others. To study it, like I study everything in life, and to understand I cannot change the past but every day I choose the future. To love it, because it makes me who I am. It shapes my path.

What started to pull me out of the abyss, though, was a few things. My turkey, Thanksgiving, started flying up to my window and waking me up every morning to make sure I was okay. Since it’s colder in the North East, I haven’t been going outside as much as the skies are grey and really gross and he really misses the company. We got a puppy, because my mom’s 14 year old Jack Russell also had to be put down. I watched my mom’s dog be born at my riding instructor’s house after a lesson on my horse, Viola, once. Huge, beautiful thoroughbred, crazy, powerful, ex-track horse. Way too much of a fucking bitch for how small I was. I did not like riding her. She used to throw me off every single lesson. So after one lesson, my riding instructor’s dog had started to give birth, I just watched the whole thing and we eventually took the runt of the litter, Penny, home. Penny also lived with us for 14 years, so I don’t necessarily view death quite in the same sense of sadness. Whether that’s because I’ve experienced a lot of it, I don’t know, or whether it’s because I take a more holistic, circle of life, view to it, related more towards spirituality and learning from loss and feeling the presence of people whether or not they’re around you. 

Our puppy, Sydney, though, is the sweetest soul and most perfect edition to the farm. She is the spunkiest, wiggliest Australian cattle dog, but she is not accepted into the professional breed registry because her nose is the wrong color, apparently. I also stopped working. Honestly, I won’t get into it, but it turns out myself and incompetent authority do not get along and removing the major stressor for my life was key to my happiness. If anyone would like to marry me so I can have access to their healthcare, slide in my DMs. I currently have unlimited time, no schedule, and a few months to figure things out. I can city jump for a bit and live like a house plant in your apartment. Sounds kinda fun and right up my alley, actually. Honestly, I would even be down to just take up someone’s extra room and provide them friendly company. Times are tough. People are lonely. I am capable of living in a cage for a few months, like Sawyer and Kate from Lost, anyways. That is NOT an invitation to kidnap me. I take it back, that was horribly worded. Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark would be screaming at me right now. Big, big, big, big, big yikes.

I still live every day waiting for civil war to actually break out in D.C. Being in the vicinity, it’s incredibly tense every single day. Even without the traffic. After the election, people started going out more and more, due to the holidays, and coronavirus cases started spiking obviously. But for what? Why do we HAVE to buy stuff? People going back to work instead of demanding change and a stimulus and going to the houses of these GOP congresspeople, calling them incessantly, FORCING THEM TO DO THEIR FUCKING JOBS WHICH SHOULD NEVER HAVE TO BE FORCED BECAUSE THEIR ENTIRE JOB IS SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING FOR THE GOOD OF THE PEOPLE, but instead, we use a holiday marked in Christian religious sentiment to overshadow the fact that anti-semitism is at an all time high this Hanukkah and “thank them” for the extra $600 because “it’s better than nothing”. So things are a little intense for me, lately. My PTSD is pretty much off the charts. 

Best part? My PTSD just makes me VERY aware of the brevity of life, what’s actually important when it comes down to measuring your significance. Coupled with my intelligence, which makes me VERY aware of the inefficiency of our current state and refusal to acknowledge the importance of merging both life experiences and personal anecdotes with observational narratives and a formal education. So, I’m just a walking ray of sunshine these days. 

So, like Eleven in Stranger Things, I bought 37 boxes of Eggo Waffles. (Kidding–I only bought like 3, and they were blueberry not normal). I soaked in my sensory deprivation tank (my bubble bath with the same temperature as the fiery pits of hell I will supposedly suffer in according to your book of no judgment). And, I emerged from my meditative trance embracing my powers and recharged for yet another glorious battle. 

I’m gonna take things in a less serious route and take a trip down memory lane. A wise Schrute once said “Nostalgia is one of the greatest human weaknesses. Second only to the neck.” and I believe this to be true. It’s why, during a pandemic, impending civil war, and general state of the USA, you can set aside all of your anxiety, gather round with your family, and bask in the comfort of what is most likely your whiteness because major holiday seasons and the way our cultural society and workforce is set up is around the Puritan work ethic and Christianity in general, so…

And for the record, I understand, like all things American, its ties to consumerism is supposedly what makes it “not about Christianity” and all that jazz, but I’ve seen the megachurches you don’t condemn and we all saw the tweets about Jeff Bezos having billions of dollars, getting exponentially richer during this pandemic, having all of our wishlists, and still not being Santa Claus”. Meanwhile, Amazon also doesn’t have to pay federal income tax. Turns out, there’s a lot you’re willing to look past in the name of religion and convenience, is all. 

Kinda spicy, I did not mean to start it out with that tone but I never really know where the night is going to take me and it’s 5:45 am.

Anywho, we’re gonna do a media dive into some of my, and the rest of the world’s, favorite entertainment. TV Shows, a few movies, and then just childhood genres and white culture classics. Since I represent the type of white people who found White Chicks funny, without being insulting, but then wasn’t allowed to try to try out for cheerleading because of “Bring it on!”, had a My Twin! Doll and matching outfits despite having a little sister who is actually my twin, and watched Hidalgo while living on a horse farm and doing 100-mile trail rides. Despite my so-called “Radical” views, which, as a reminder, are only “radical” and “super liberal” because I live in the United States and everywhere else in the world that is a developed country views the way I think as “exceptionally moderate”, although, you know, a little sassy. Despite this college-instilled liberalism, though, I like to think I am the epitome of the 1990’s white American dream. 

I can trace my family, thanks to military records, back decades, those who married in were usually immigrants escaping war. (All white ones, though.) Shout out to my cousin Mark for breaking the trend and for also, like me, taking an “extended break” from our horribly toxic family.

The sigh of relief I found uncovering that my great-great grandfather was a Union general was audible. As was the discovery that we spoke 9 different Native American tongues so we could trade and communicate, not mercilessly steal the land from and plunder. A symbiotic relationship, hopefully, more so than others. However, I am still white. The standards are REALLY low in 2020. I am SURE at some point my ancestors were the plague upon humanity the Bible warned you all about. White people in Florida are currently holding that title. I have blonde hair and green eyes and a German last name. If it’s not Hitler, I’m SURE we can trace it back to kingdoms at some point in time, which I was absolutely either related to some rebellious peasant or the black sheep outcast of royalty (like Fiona from Shrek–we’ll come back to that). For this reason, it’s also probably why Disney movies and The Princess Diaries really resonated with me. I see women in the Future Female Leaders of America on instagram trying to represent Elle Woods, as if a woman who advocated for congress to set aside their issues and come together would ever endorse the current state of the GOP and Trump Administration, and I’m reminded of those Clique books and my middle school bully who was so intent on forcing her purity and righteousness above others because it was the ONLY thing she had that represented her identity in any kind of way. So it was the only thing she clung to and the fact that it might not be something to parade around town to establish how entitled to respect you are was a harsh reality for a lot of white women. News flash–that is not your sole identity. It doesn’t represent anything about your value. 55% of white women of which, who refused to admit the reality or just live in delusion happily. I think we can all thank the Jonas Brothers for ditching their purity rings so all of the country Christian girls from Georgia could stop only doing anal because they thought it would somehow exempt them from their sin. I actually know a girl like that from highschool. Which, as far as that argument goes, I’d like to point out, 1. if homosexuality is a sin, then Jesus died for the gays, and 2. We see the religious ties to how their religious leaders would molest altar boys and children in general and the excuses for it. Anal just doesn’t count. Jerry Sandusky made national news, Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell get dragged through the media publicly, yet you won’t condemn it or accept that it happens and is fostered through the mentality within your own communities because you refuse to condemn the people you associate with. 

Which reminds me– I’ll be having my friend from Penn State’s football program on, who was a freshman when the Joe Paterno stuff and Jerry Sandusky expose went down, on my podcast in a few weeks so keep an eye out. 

Anywho, white culture is problematic in a lot of ways. Almost exclusively because of colonialist expansion mentality based around the NEED to constantly be exerting our dominance. Which should come as absolutely no surprise to still be endorsed by a country who is #1 in olympic gold medals but not healthcare, human rights, happiness, average income, women’s rights, but IS in things like homelessness, financial insecurity of the middle class, gap between median and average income, student debt, medical debt, you name it. We throw the word “freedom!” on something and we just stop trying, I guess. Even though we’re #1 in prisoner population. Crazy how much you like scientists for things like war machines and the ability to get plastic surgery if you can afford it to keep your barbie-esque image for male consumption, but not any other factor of intelligence. 

We also think so ethnocentrically that if Americans were around in historic times, we would’ve been the dumb asses who proposed that the sun revolved around us. We would be the “scientists” proposing things like anti-vax theories (and fabricating the data and subsequently losing their medical license) and how WE must be the center of the universe. Look at Florida right now! Ron DeSantis fucking gestapo raided the data scientist’s house who was publishing the legitimate data–something the government should have been doing FROM THE BEGINNING because the history of ethics and public health can not take any more hits. Where the fuck did your public health policy experience come from? Mike Pence’s handling of HIV/AIDS in Indiana? Ronald Reagan’s refusal to acknowledge “gay cancer” for YEARS until it also started affecting people who weren’t gay? Florida and Texas’s coronavirus response is just more proof to my theory that we got all of the Europeans who were too fucking ignorant to remain in Europe and, instead of accepting progress and science, literally just hopped on a boat and sailed away HERE (also why I think this same group of people so adamantly uses the “go back to where you came from!” mentality because that’s how projection works) and they also played “finder’s keepers” with the land. You wonder why there’s a tik tok trend about “nobody’s gonna know!” and it’s because our entire country is literally founded on doing the wrong thing, and praying for forgiveness, but then not actually having to be accountable for your behavior because you have a fall back option of “he loves us all” and we wonder if this is “NEW”.

You all are fucking idiots. Please, just shut up.

Back to media and entertainment. We’re gonna start off with our classic favorite, Shrek.

Now, I’ve always taken a special liking to Shrek. I have a hat that says “daddy” in Shrek letters with little Ogre ears, and my dream is to wear it for my next boyfriend when he fucks me, so I’m obviously a big fan. However, quarantine is making me increasingly uncomfortable because I realize my childhood is very similar to Dolores’ from Westworld. And I don’t say that because I was a raised on a tobacco farm/horse farm by Missouri natives in the military and parents who were engineers so we also have this whole “Ender’s Game” thing going on simultaneously in a “best of both worlds” Hannah Montana thing, but also because quarantine is making me revisit my favorite movies and identify problematic things with my newfound “outlook” on life. An outlook of which, is really the stunning realization of how biased our society is towards a Christian religious cultural norms and how our electoral system has absolutely hindered progress of the country on a global stage that is about to bitch slap us in the face when the reality of what our government has done for 4 years gets uncovered over the next few decades, in some inevitably dramatic HBO-series-Chernobyl-documentary style. 

Remember how Americans watched that and were like “the government corruption! Could you imagine?!” It’s almost like they have never heard of Three Mile Island or Tom’s River, have never thought to look into why developed countries elsewhere were moving away from pesticides and stressing the importance of chemical knowledge It’s almost like they’ve never read Silent Spring or, if they had, assumed it was “liberal propaganda” and the DDT “didn’t actually do anything to the eagles” (an actual quote from my stepdad), and wonder exactly what it was that drove the development of the EPA and why leaving it up to individual states or industries to “do the right thing” means making the right thing the easiest thing, or at the very least, the most financially rewarding with severe enough punishments to deter deviation from the path, FROM THE BEGINNING. It means clarity, reality, and comprehensive views. Making it simple to be a good person. Tactics of which are apparently not taught or stressed in any administrative capacity and political systems which refuse to pass or enact policy to rectify the impact of lobbying, the ability to profit from your public government position and set your own salary at whim while also making budget cuts to the communities you control, limiting the number of terms, making campaigns publicly feasible, clear, and less biased. It’s an infuriating time, so I turned to my good ole childhood favorites for some amusement and distraction.

Shrek, my savior, someone I never thought would let me down. I watch Shrek at least once a month. Weeks I’m super anxious, I’ll watch it 3-5 days in a row. Having a photographic memory, I remember most times I’ve watched it with others, when it’s been in the background of studying and what I learned, it brings up a wonderful layer of memories.

But let’s look at Shrek from Fiona’s point of view. 

Fiona, a beautiful princess, waiting patiently daydreaming in her tower. We’ll give her a pass on waiting for a man because I don’t think we need to defend why she didn’t personally fight a dragon after watching male after male die in a fiery shock like a barbecued, spit-roasted pig for the dragon to then devour. Either way, Fiona’s still spunky. She isn’t about to take shit from any man. She can fend for herself, singing birds to death and then cooking their babies. She tells men exactly what she wants and expects. You know, she did insist Shrek kiss her. Although, when he denied it, she just accepted that as well. She can kick the ass of 20 or so men in what would only be assumed to have been an attempted gang-rape by Robin Hood, kinda like the ones that go on in Egypt to journalists or India to married women sold off in gambling debts because women’s rights have still not progressed enough globally for any of us to feel like we can just “sit back” and “enjoy” our lives”. She’s a real tough girl, capable of fending for herself. We later find out she gives up her beauty, her financial status, and her elitist familial lineage for a POOR OGRE WHO IS MOTIVATED SOLELY FOR PERSONAL GAIN. He isn’t doing a good thing because it’s “the right thing”. This story is about a man who is redeemable almost exclusively BECAUSE OF THE INFLUENCE OF A STRONG WOMAN. It does nothing to address the fact that all Fiona got out of it was a financial demotion, some children and the impending threat of nearly a divorce as well as feared infidelity, and, of course, finally being “ALLOWED” to be her most natural ogre self. Like Shrek brought out something different in her? Completely changed who she was? “Allowed” her to be herself? 

The love we have for Shrek is the kind of love white men who still listen to Joe Rogan or think he’s “connected” to reality in any way think voting independently and refusing to believe you’re liberal because you think those policies are “unrealistic”, when in reality, what’s “unrealistic” is that you endorse recreational drug use but not public or mental health programs or universal healthcare. She was just as bad ass and great as a person, so headstrong, capable of forging her own path and choosing right from wrong (when she learns to be aware of the choice in front of her), but you’re gonna tell me that only WITH A MAN, AND AN UGLY POOR ONE AT THAT, is Fiona “ALLOWED” to “be her most authentic self”. EXCUSE ME. Literally ALL he did was change the outside and offer companionship. 

For those of you who are like “but wait, Fiona had baggage, Shrek did her a favor.” Oh did he? How? Shrek gave her adventure and companionship, that’s all. She could have gotten the same, however short of a time frame, by trying to escape on her own. I’m SURE she could’ve had a great friend of her own, maybe even donkey, at some point to go on solo gal adventures with. Clearly the dragon could communicate to some degree. Maybe they would’ve gotten along. Fiona was this bad ass white woman who supposedly deviated from the “princess” options we were given to idolize as children, but HOW?! By forewarning us that choosing the path of a good marriage meant anticipating being poor, struggling to get by, and having our husbands leave to address government incompetence at whim? Why was this our martyr in any way. She was, however, very realistic.

Not to mention, Rapunzel swung out her tower all the time on her hair, but she just didn’t MOVE AWAY until a guy was there. Then, with Frozen and Moana, women, children, FINALLY have some complex female characters NOT motivated solely by men to leave their homes. 

Back to Fiona and the dragon communicating, though. That is literally ALL women ask of you in the USA NOW and you can’t even be honest, communicative partners. At least in Shrek 2, his infidelity was a mistake! Not some recurrent snapchat in the same chef hat you wore in the one year anniversary post with your girlfriend from the night before. The same guys who LOOOOOOVE Shrek are either not dating the “tough” girl, because “she’s a little too difficult”, saw the whole “love potion making you handsome” thing in Shrek 2 and instead thought you should ENCOURAGE your girlfriends to seek out plastic surgery and look like an HD version of a human instead of focusing on the “you’re perfect the way you are” theme.

That, or they still endorse Dave Portnoy because they don’t realize his skinny jeans and tik tok videos with 18 year olds (if that) are the Lord Farquaad height equivalent. Yet, you’re still lining up around Duloc to listen to what he has to say and quietly sitting while your friends shout misogynistic bullying but advocate very fiercely for equality on reddit anonymously. On a note about Barstool, I went to undergrad with Caleb Pressley. He’s the exact same person. And KFC is one of the only open Biden supporting males, and, because of that, gets a SIGNIFICANT amount of reminders in his comments section regarding the time he cheated on his pregnant wife. From the same people who voted for Donald Trump. The irony. I also think this is an excellent reminder of how, because of his support for a “liberal” base, the white men who previously ate up every word went mob mentality on his ass and remind him of his one major public mistake every single post, just like they hold every single mistake women in politics make over their heads to disqualify their opinions in some intellectual capacity. I fucking hate this country. LMFAO.

Switching directions COMPLETELY, I also watched Breaking Bad for the first time recently, and it really brought up some memories. For context, my biological father used to design nuclear weaponry and do counterterrorism stuff and my parents were SO competitive cause they were both in STEM that they used me as their trophy of “doing something right” and really showed me that you don’t get success or love until you’re willing to bleed for it. It’s a wonder I’m so peachy these days. But my hometown has a lot of historical preservation outside of DC. A lot of history has happened here, John Wilkes Booth rode across my farmland to Dr. Mudd’s house. Dr. Mudd is a relative to one of my best friends from high school. George Washington was born here, whatever. It’s also outside of DC and the new gambling districts of National Harbor and MGM studios and housed several of the DC-native strip club owners, so southern Maryland tends to offer an incredibly unique and diverse cultural amalgamation. 

Let me tell you. There’s a lot of similarities to Breaking Bad.

The first was how my neighbor’s house down the road in the late 2000’s got confiscated because their detached, like 8 car garage was being used as a meth lab. Half of my neighbors were secret service or worked for the FBI or another federal agency, this was an idiotic place to cook something next to one of only 2 main roads in town. I know someone from the city would probably come to the country and feel super isolated, thinking this was smart, and “well hidden”, just because it’s on a dark country road without street lights. But anyone who ACTUALLY lives in the country knows you’re not REALLY alone until you’re a good 30 minutes away from civilization. And then it really IS every-man-for-yourself. Nobody is out there to save you. If you can get away, and live, you have to take those chances cause one wrong move or putting your trust in the wrong person and you’ll end up buzzard food. It’s not a lifestyle for the weak. 

Now, let’s look at Walter White. Great biochemist who never amounted to anything more than a teacher. An insult to teachers everywhere. I’ve mentioned before, but my narcissistic asshole of a father, who I will eventually do a full “daddy issues” segment on, in the kind of way that Beyonce’s song covered it, but that just does not deserve the spotlight currently. My own dad, an aerospace engineer who designed nuclear weaponry and various missiles, worked on flight trajectory and development, counterterrorism. Incredibly brilliant man. Also obsessed and motivated by power. He used to love watching movies like Revenge of the Nerds, you know, even with the rape scene, and I ultimately think his downfall was working on intelligence that you had to keep quiet instead of being some big “Heisenberg” name for himself. It’s almost frustrating for me too, because he is BRILLIANT. Undeniably a physics genius. But, like Walter White and Elon Musk, it is overcompensating for his lack of talents or intelligence elsewhere. His narcissism is only undermined or gets frequently excused, in my opinion, because he’s a white male, so he didn’t have to beg for power–it was handed to him as long as he put in the work. Nobody ever doubted whether he’d be “the right man for the job”, because countless white men before him had done a fine job. Plus, after designing nuclear weaponry he is now a high school physics teacher. Can’t wait for the new seasons whenever he develops cancer. 

That might sound particularly cold, until you realize that, with my oncologic research, cause I worked out at MD Anderson, the top cancer research center in the USA for 2 of the top 100 oncology specialists in Head & Neck and Thoracic Cancer. It is my viewpoint that “cancer“ is essentially just your cells aging in ways they aren’t supposed to. With time, you’re more likely to get SOME type of cancer. There are over 150 different strains that all work on different organs, within different bodily systems, utilizing completely different mechanisms. Every year of life, more cells within your body have gone through more cell cycles, broken down, been “caught”, identified, and burned in the fiery depths of your immune system (hopefully) so you’ve never noticed or even known these invaders, created by your own body (or some environmental pollution, which is the entire reason the EPA exists, for the record. KIDS in New Jersey had a cluster of particularly rare BRAIN CANCER. I would love to start a Christian book club and introduce them to “Toms River” and THEN ask them how they feel about small government or “state’s rights”.) All I’m saying is that IF he were to get something, and I WERE to find out he was literally Walter White 2.0, but in Florida, I’m just NOT going to be surprised at all. I’m not “wishing” cancer on him, either. Every year that each individual walks this earth is another year of cell divisions and an increased likelihood that you’ll get SOME type of disease, and particularly SOME type of cancer. Maybe you should holistically invest and fund fucking science instead of your “tax exempt but not against receiving taxpayer money” prayer services, you absolute buffoons.

So, naturally, there was nothing more enjoyable than watching the downfall of Walter White and all of his associates and the mass death of anyone who pretended they were acting “redeemable” for “the greater good” (but, ultimately, were acting in their own best interest.) It was particularly enjoyable while I remembered a time when my father and brother would sit on the couch and watch the show together, after my father yelled at my mother or mocked her for her emotions or, better yet, accused her of stealing money from him. At least Walter had the decency to keep Junior out of his marital drama with Skylar, for a time. Or, when I thought of all the times he mocked Johnny Knoxville in “The Ringer” for the mean popular girls on my field trips who I didn’t even like, then went to work publicly at his “volunteering” out of “the kindness of his heart” with the special olympics foundation. To this day, I will stand by my assertion that he does things solely for the dopamine rush of others telling him how great he is. He isn’t a good person behind closed doors. Or in front of different audiences. Because, unlike Walter White, HE can’t admit he was ever wrong. Unlike Mr. White, MY father has either mentally blocked out the pain so he legitimately does not remember doing it, OR it was simply never that important or significant to him because screaming obscenities in the household was a regular occurrence and why would he remember the 1-2 times he yelled at me when he was CONSTANTLY, CONSTANTLY doing it to my siblings or mom. What kind of grown man who can throw a 93 mile per hour fastball, hurls a wiffle ball as hard as he can at his son, regardless of what his CHILD UNDER TEN YEARS OLD did?

Well, while he was doing this, and I was watching, processing, Lil Wayne was teaching me that “real G’s move in silence like lasagna” so I just never found it particularly admirable and quietly bided my time never giving him a reason to punish me, letting my hatred silently build until I could legally get the fuck away from him. Apparently he had no idea. Shocking for a narcissist, I know.

Let’s move on to Saul. 

The only reason Saul was never scared to die was obviously because he had no reason to be scared. He had nothing to fight for but revenge, pride, and power. So I was not surprised one bit when we learned his backstory. How the fuck did so many of you white men watch Breaking Bad, understand just how much corruption some of these people are escaping, see the way people were roped into drug cartels as CHILDREN, and then STILL VOTE IN THE 2020 ELECTION AS A LIBERTARIAN BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO ADMIT YOU’RE A DEMOCRAT. Is this because places like West Virginia keep people dumb enough with their poor public education system, because “state’s rights” and all that you think white people aren’t born into poverty or genuinely choose to remain in it? Is it because we have MTV shows that glorify the hollers of West Virginia, as the point was never that you can’t have fun or enjoy your circumstance or relate to others in those circumstances, but it should have been that you didn’t need to become someone’s access to reality television to finally have people care about you, validate your existence, and let you forge a name for yourself or be able to afford and be aware of alternatives to the life you’ve always known? That it shouldn’t take someone ELSE exploiting and benefitting from your life to achieve that? How the fuck is it that we have GENERATIONS of abused and hurt people, sexually, physically, mentally, and you all just THINK WE ARE SUPPOSED TO ACCEPT THAT. 

Anyways, Saul was careful, clever, but still mortal. I, for one, was thankful that all of the drug ring members were brutally murdered because I was actually hesitant to watch Breaking Bad initially, as doing drugs because YOU’RE interested in doing drugs is one thing. Become a chemist and cook it yourself, in your own house way away from people, whatever. I’m all for intelligent drug use, curiosity, trying new things from an educated pedestal. The issue is that our own version of the drug cartel, the opioid epidemic, is a fucking white crime drug cartel of a private industry who utilized the flaws in our capitalist, archaic government structure and was able to successfully avoid THE MASSIVE AND WIDELY KNOWN ADDICTION RATES OF THESE SUBSTANCES AND THE POWER OF INFLUENCE THAT IS ASSOCIATED WITH “PRESCRIPTIONS” (aka: a prescription is safe) in such a way that it harms the medical community TREMENDOUSLY and addicts physically threaten providers in areas without access to enough resources to build treatment centers. It also has enabled the mentality like you’re not abusing your xanax just because you’re drinking on it. Other people are drinking too, so it’s fine. You’re prescribed it. You’re way better than Sara without an H from Tri Delt who buys it from the guys at DKE and isn’t medically depressed. SO much difference between you and her just because you *technically* follow the law. Spare me. Or how it’s “not” a drinking problem because you’re under 25 and “it’s college”. You incoherently blackout screaming at your roommates in a coked out rampage or physically attacking your sister after you stumble home from the bars at 3 am is not something “healthy” people do.

People’s negativity towards drugs and addiction are for one of a few reasons: 

  1. They’re scared. They don’t want to admit they have a problem.
  2. They seem to have absolutely no awareness that drugs, medications, and even substances like food, are all ultimately just some type of chemical we’ve studied the effects of and monitor within your body. The only difference between something like weed and alcohol is how your perception is shaped by the society in which you were raised and what punishments you perceived would occur if you had them. Don’t even get me started on cocaine and adderall.

    Our public school education on D.A.R.E. was really inadequate, and I know the effects of certain drugs are important not to downplay–physically and mentally. I’m just pointing out how subjective of a line it is to rule out some substances as illegal and others as not.

  3. You really want to have tangible proof that you are somehow better than somebody else in some minute way, so that it makes you feel a little bit better about why you have more than them or why you shouldn’t invest time in helping others or why you won’t need to bear the emotional guilt of actively trying to change the reality. And drugs, addiction, and mental health issues in general are the easiest cop-out because individualism stresses the “bootstrap” mentality, and you think everyone else is just “weaker” than you. It makes you feel strong in your own mental struggles.

If you want to hold the same energy towards criminals with a history of violence, particularly domestic violence, sexual assault, rape, or pedophilia, be my fucking guest. As I said, there’s no excuse for violence. Cycles of abuse ARE cyclical. I started seeing my therapist after punching my boyfriend in the face for finding tinder on his phone while I was blacked out at his Valentine’s Day cocktail the same week I took pictures as “Sweetheart” of his fraternity.  So, you need access to therapy (which isn’t necessarily accessible). But looking down on someone because of the highly addictive substances they’ve used with absolutely no insight into WHY they use those substances, how they came to try them, and how little resources we may have to address them is terrible. I’m not saying you need to sit there and feel guilt for your happiness. I’m saying you need to be conscientious of the butterfly effect and the awareness that everything you do is being watched. Yes, I’m Edward Snowden-ing you, but it’s true. People you may not even be aware of are constantly monitoring you, seeing how you treat others, coming across your pages, your body language, the tone in your voice, the gaze of your eyes. You influence far more as an individual, actively and passively, than you may recognize. Be aware of your behavior and character and use it for the positive.

It feels especially relevant to remind people that our beloved Coca Cola used to have cocaine in it, and cocaine and heroin were both common pharmaceutical prescriptions only about 100 years ago! However, Atlanta, Georgia, Coca Cola’s headquarters, are currently in a huge Senate runoff AND marijuana still hasn’t been legalized in that state yet for recreational use! Georgia has clearly made a lot of progress with the power of big corporations. Let’s remind everyone the CDC headquarters are also in Atlanta and the governor wouldn’t even attempt to control coronavirus, little Trump cronie, so every day in the United States is currently a mass casualty event. For the love of everything, vote for Jon Ossoff.

People use addictive and hallucinogenic substances because either reality sucks, they’re peer pressured to, or they’re just curious and bored. Honestly, if VR would just come out with some “trippy” experiences with full body effects and you could experience them without the actual physiological toll, I bet a lot less people would care to try the actual substances, particularly with the questionable effects recurrent or chronic use can have on your brain over time. The government making all of this stuff illegal just allowed it to be underground, and for programs like the CIA to complete unethical experiments that are basically just the observational ones your local drug dealer could ALSO run without IRB approval. Only, they can do it FULL scale and make it societally generalizable. I’m not NOT saying I’m jealous, for the record. Being ethical is hard. Take, for instance, how anti-vaxxers are still enabled to get life saving medical treatment. Or how the congressional leaders who were denying coronavirus was even real and letting thousands of the people who voted for them die were amongst the first to get the vaccine. Fuck your ethics. 

What’s super obnoxious about being intelligent is you start to sound like a conspiracy theorist once you began making connections and identifying patterns in society. It’s also especially frustrating coming from a background where you’ve ONLY EVER been around special security clearances, because you KNOW there is legitimacy to every single thing you say, yet you come off wildly bonkers because the rest of the US is so fucking stupid that half of the people were willing to vote for someone “on account of democracy” who is arguably going to prove to be one of the most undemocratic people, and absolutely the most undemocratic president (which is saying a LOT), in the history of the United States. 

I feel like the insight I give people to me lately, particularly with my blog and podcast, is eye-opening, not necessarily in a great way for my popularity, but in a way that you need to know. I have told you guys who I am for YEARS, for the record. I’m an open book, but you do HAVE to ask. 

After studying biochemistry and working in chemical synthesis (yeah, let’s give a shout out to my father for not letting me watch Breaking Bad “for the influence” and then my subconscious for just choosing things at whim that I later realize were and are incredibly relevant to everything people, not just him, have told me NOT to do), our system of criminalizing drugs is archaic. We’ve allowed huge corporations that still dictate our economy to this day to utilize them for capital gain, only outlawing them as a political move and SOMEHOW, unlike the pathetic attempts at alcohol prohibition, thought we would get ANY FUCKING DIFFERENCES. Everything you put in your body is a different chemical. Coffee can be protective against certain cancers and also cause others–should we outlaw it, too? Most of our food and vitamins has synthetic, unnatural additives in it, yet you’re fine ingesting those. Our PASTEURIZED CHEESE ACTS AS OPIATES AND SOME OF YOU JUST GNAW ON HUGE BLOCKS OF CHEDDAR LIKE ITS AN ICE CREAM SANDWICH. Yes, I would rather live in a society where I didn’t just randomly run into people in public who will attack me because they ate bath salts. I would also like to be able to live in a society where I can call the police to protect a black person and not be worried they might end up getting shot “mistakenly”. Or one where everyone has housing that is affordable because there are so many “hotels, motels, Holiday Inns” (yes, I sang that in a Ludacris voice) and abandoned houses, but we have SO MANY HOMELESS PEOPLE. Our cities will actively put up SPIKES on BENCHES IN PARKS to keep homeless people from sleeping there. You do realize this is pretty fucked up, right? Do you know how many people, especially those without access to healthcare, have mental health conditions that result in them having a psychotic break or particularly bad episode and they just disappear, their families don’t know what has happened to them, and it turns out they were just homeless and got lost, or are later found mentally disoriented in some shelters. You wonder why I feel this way about the world?! You just downplay the reality of it because you’ve numbed yourself to emotion for years because our country is built on jumping from war to war and viewed emotion as a negative. Many of which are, need I remind you, THE RESULT OF SELFISH CONSUMERISM MENTALITY AND NOT ACTUAL JUSTICE aka did we really need to be there? NO!

Breaking Bad, as all favorite American entertainment shows do, did an excellent job at beginning the series masquerading the white man as the benevolent protagonist. He was who we should root for. Everybody loves a good cancer sob story, particularly US citizens. They will go crazy donating to something if they think they’ll get a multicolored rainbow ribbon magnet to stick on their car. They have to get something out of it, though. They need to see tangible proof that they helped it directly. A name on the donation. A facebook post about their good deed and how warm it made them feel to give back. Here in the US, we have to crowdfund and start GoFundMe’s for people to care about things like health or civil justice, so this shouldn’t be surprising. 10/10 for Relatability for Breaking Bad, though. Throw in the good ole fan favorite of “deplorables” and only portraying Hispanic immigrants as the drug cartel, savage and viciously destroying the sanctity of the American economy, and this was always going to do great things and be well received. 

The other day, I re-read one of my “Madeline in Paris” books from childhood, but it was “Madeline comes to America”, and the illustrations are so messed up. It’s broken down on my Tik Tok. Which, if any of you follow, that’s a whole other personality of me, we don’t speak of it. In the Madeline book, though, they fly from Paris, where Madeline lives at boarding school, to Texas upon the death of her grandfather. You know, so the lawyer can explain her inheritance and show her the assets she acquired. They visit her, this small child’s, cattle ranch in Texas and the ONLY brown people in the book are the poor farm hands. I’ll let that quick little summary speak for itself.

Anyways, it’s shows like Breaking Bad which make me want to have access to research trends in violence over time, the use of inspiration and effects on trends in criminal activity, public perception towards criminalization, fluctuations in substance abuse disorders. My curiosity is driven towards understanding the world around me, studying it with intrigue, although cynicism, seeing how it relates to my own life, envisioning the Rick & Morty style of various dimensions in play out in the lives around me.

Every human is just an interesting pawn in the game of life. Some of us, like in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (although I believe it was called the Philosopher’s Stone for its release in the U.K. because they’re a bit less weary of the magic of chemistry, horoscopes, and all that across the pond), have the ability to move our own pieces. Restricted by rules, we follow certain paths as they appear. Others controlled by an unseen figure, moving with purpose, perhaps the central figure in another movie, but not this one. 

Maybe the better analogy is that everyone has their own chessboard, and they’re all just playing against time in a crowded park. Some of your pieces become lost, sacrificed, a necessary victim to advancement. Others are only useful in certain scenarios, rarely accessed, but there to provide defensive support if needed. People around you, watching on their breaks, happening upon you, may offer advice or, those whose own games were completed, resulting in their end, serve symbolically as they stoicly float amongst the crowd. Your own game may end abruptly, sooner than anticipated, because you failed to pay attention and didn’t learn the strategy well enough to protect yourself, your opponent was better, or maybe your chessboard was just knocked off the table by your cat “accidentally”. Either way, life is chess, not checkers. And we all saw the Queen’s Gambit.

c-PTSD

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
c-PTSD
Loading
/

Alright, I know the last time we covered traditionally “feminine” topics of dating and what guys want to use my body as a cum rag at that current moment in time versus which ones want to allow themselves to be enamored by intriguing wit, however, I had creativity spark whilst listening to the Nikki Glasser / Hannah Berner discussion on @beingbernz podcast, “Berning in Hell”, and I knew it was the appropriate time to address and confront some of my struggles with c-PTSD, all while listening to John Legend’s melodious voice. Bless Chrissy Teigen. Thank you for being the inspiration behind so much of this music. YOU da real MVP.

Anyways, this is your one and only trigger warning.

I am not notorious for the particularly “delicate” way I confront certain topics. 

Growing up in such a military family, I am VERY aware of what PTSD looks like from a military point of view. My grandfather refused to, and probably couldn’t, talk about any of his experiences. He would scream and get irrationally angry at something like a football game–to the point where we couldn’t go visit him. He would drink a handle of gin a day. He bulk ordered gin like his house was a fucking bar or something. Was he happy? I think, yes, he often was very happy. His children, his grandchildren, his animals, the farm–we filled his life with happiness. Was he healed? I would say judging by the length he went to not die, constantly hallucinating and revisiting his life in memories, talking to us as if we were the characters in his stories–like the time he rode camels across Egypt, or when he encountered Agent Orange in Vietnam–his life was on a loop. He progressed, and moved on. He earned accolade after accolade. But he was certainly not healed. He was far, far too scared of death. Too irrationally angry over something as miniscule as to what professional athlete threw a ball into the endzone in time or not. Too obsessed with control, with image, that deviations drove him to chaotic eruption. 

Frankly, he needed therapy.

My family still really struggles with the idea that “needing therapy” is an insult. They hear that and recoil and are like “Shh! You shouldn’t say that!” But I honestly think every single person in this world needs to go to regular therapy. My dream world involves a baseline of primary care, mental health, and reproductive healthcare as the public insurance and “free”, government-supported level. It would help address a lot of our issues involving gun violence, school shootings, and substance abuse or suicidal ideology–we could funnel kids into the programs they needed quicker because we’re more aware of what they’re thinking. Or, we could also, literally, as humans, just start fucking paying attention to the people around us and allowing them to share what they need before they feel the urge to freak out and break shit or riot in the streets because they’ve pleaded, year after year, and are still not getting the results.

As a society, we’re slapping a butterfly bandage on a wound that needs multiple layers of sutures.

It’s trying to perform Mohs past stage 3 on a patient on Warfarin.

We’re accepting dodgy, quick-fix solutions instead of addressing the deeper layers of both society and humans. 

Our rush in the USA for capitalism and democracy to succeed has created this endless work mentality–which, if its being called out by someone who ABSOLUTELY LOVES to work, in most forms, is problematic. I can go hike twelve mountains in a day if someone challenged me to (and paid for me to) do it. I would go trek the Swiss Alps tomorrow for a few weeks if some guy offered to pay for me to accompany him and I could verify his identity with multiple forms and get 3 references and notify authorities when and where I’d be going and that, if I died, he would be the sole culprit. So if I’m calling out the need to acknowledge that humans cannot always be moving and eventually, you have to slow down, and as a society, we need to acknowledge the flaws in our systems, then maybe we should fucking listen to it.

It’s kind of like how people of color (and women especially) need white men to also take up a stance for it to gain the support it needs to be viewed as “a legitimate issue”, people who are energetic freaks and benefit from the way capitalism endows them with the gift of conveying that somehow side hustle after side hustle will give you the happiness you seek so desperately, need to be the ones addressing the reality is you need to slow things down and meditate every so often and correct your patterns of behavior. For the good of everyone, but, most importantly, yourself.

This is also where I think the decriminalization and legalization of drugs will change medicine moving forward. I’m so excited for this and I, prior to recent changes in medical levels of expertise, public health knowledge, and then my own experience with PTSD, I had never smoked weed until my junior year of college, so 21 years old. I was such a nerd (because of my uptight family and need to only get validation and be the best) my high school peers freaked out over me drinking at senior week. And I’m a real “go big or go home” type of gal, so the first time I smoked, obviously, it had to be like a 2 foot bong in a fraternity house because I need the admiration and disbelief of men to be motivated to do anything in life, but prior to that I had done edibles on two occasions. #420. As a runner, I just didn’t like the idea of “smoking” something. And while I was competing in NCAA circuits, I couldn’t smoke anyways. Hence, my junior year, opportunity finally arose. The general idea of what smoking could do to my lungs just made me uncomfortable, not the plant itself. I grew up in tobacco farm alley. I wonder why.

Outlawing drugs didn’t discontinue them in any way, in case anyone is still “unclear”.

People were still doing them, just illegally, or the research was restricted to private government entities (Hey, shout out to the CIA. If any of your agents are listening, like I said, I would love some validation because I know I talk about a lot of heavy things in society that are typically “taboo” in a way that might get flagged.) Seriously–on my snapchat, I have a group with 2 Indian men who get profiled at the airport like crazy, and an army guy I met in grad school. One of whom happens to be the Indian guy I’m particularly mad at because he claims to be my best friend but then funds the Floridian governor’s campaigns and voted and hosted Trump at the Ocala rally. I can’t deal with the incompetence within my circle anymore, personally. Or the lack of morality and awareness. Even making excuses for finances or your own long-term political goals. Anyways, the four of us have a snapchat group that is called “definitely not terrorists”. Because it’s true. We are definitely not. But saying that makes it look suspicious. And being honest is so scary in this day and age that people don’t trust you when you are.

Being honest is so scary in fact that I don’t even trust it. Me, someone who is both great at manipulation and being incredibly vulnerable. I don’t believe it. I need reassurance, proof. I’m suspicious and analytical to my core so I also distrust things like emotions. And words. But only really in reference to good things, like peace, love, happiness. c-PTSD makes that particularly difficult because it seems fleeting, ever passing, illogical at times, especially given what I know about the world as a whole and my world individually. Disney Pixar’s “Inside Out” started covering it with the idea that you need sadness and joy in harmony. All of our emotions have their place. It’s okay. 

And people get uncomfortable with honesty because of the widespread distrust. People in the USA are so used to pretending like we don’t have all of these issues, because we’ve deluded ourselves into thinking the American dream is being #1 in Olympic gold medals and military expenditure, whilst also holding the title for things like prison population, disparity between median and average income, divorce, drug addiction, obesity, rapes, murders. It’s disgusting. And yes, it’s bleak. So particularly suffering through it while you’re struggling with anxiety and depression as is, let alone to the full blown level of either progression into PTSD or a combination of new events that form your PTSD, it can be completely overwhelming. 

Living on the edge is exhausting. It’s the only way I’ve ever known, so I almost feel like I have an advantage in that sense. I know, I can’t even let down my competitive nature enough to be like “I HAVE THE BEST ABILITY TO OVERCOME C-PTSD. I face a problem that requires harsh acceptance of the reality of your situation and things, events, or experiences that are now, and maybe always were, out of your control with a mentality of wanting to handle it the “best”. As if there is a “right” way to do so. “What is wrong with me? The list is never ending. But it’s that confidence that also enables me to navigate it so freely, like a river. I am a woman, so even though I’ve typically been a “masculine” energy and involved in these cultures and communities that I don’t belong in, So I’m USED to not fitting in as is, I’m allowed to express this emotion more openly and with a sense of respect commanded because I do understand what it takes to operate on those levels of performance and to have all of this insane pressure building up around you. 

Does it make it easy? No. Absolutely not. 

Part of my issues stem from having experienced SO MANY THINGS. Most of which I just never addressed or processed with any sense of “severity” or understanding of just how inappropriate they were. I’ve been held up at gunpoint as a “joke” by an ex boyfriend. I was sexually assaulted. Once in a club by a random dude while I was walking. Once by the maintenance guy of my apartment complex whose ability to enter my house the management team wouldn’t revoke without a formal police report or restraining order. For that, I thank them in a way. They pushed me to hold him accountable by law.  Once by my former best female friend–who I don’t think realizes I remember, as she still tries to contact me without apologizing for why we aren’t speaking. And once by my ex-boyfriend while I was sleeping. Because I was “his” property. He was born before marital rape in the USA was illegal and I hadn’t had sex with him in a few months, to be fair. Insert eye roll emoji here. There is literally no excuse. Kid is a piece of shit. I’ve been threatened with a gun by a coked out ex-hook up after I sent a girl who he was with and lived next to me the text messages he sent me asking me not to tell her the TRUTH. To tell you how mentally fucked up the white women in Florida who voted for Trump are, I want you to understand this Mid-20’s, college-educated (granted, it was Alabama) white, Blonde girl knew that another woman, matching her “type”, working in a similar, overlapping masters program in healthcare, took this man to court, took out a formal restraining order for gun violence, and sent her excessive proof of him lying directly to her. And she went on to date this piece of shit for over a year. While he was going to court-mandated anger management and probation. Which, I thought, was being a lot fucking nicer than pursuing jail, because I had to “be the bigger person” realistically if I thought there was any hope for change for him. And I couldn’t allow a life where he vindictively fixated on revenge for thinking I ruined his life as if he’s not the one who berated me for hours, choked me and screamed about how worthless I was, how he was going to shoot me, then spent several days that I didn’t address him or interact physically intimidating me, going out of his way to park himself right next to me at the pool, making sure I knew I wasn’t the alpha. Guess what bitch, I’m always the alpha. I will win even when I have to use the fucking system that I hate to do so. You deserved everything you got. Frankly, you deserved more. It wasn’t enough to make you a better person, but hopefully you didn’t fuck up that poor idiotic girl who thought I was somehow jealous of the leftward sloping Captain Hook 5” dick like I can’t get a better endowed or more properly fitting dildo that vibrates on 10 settings, actually makes me cum instead of me putting in ALL the effort, and doesn’t put me through mental or physical abuse. As I’ve said on my instagram, white women in the USA straight up have stockholm syndrome over the blind faith and trust placed in white, male saviors that remind us, even subconsciously, of Jesus Christ. 

I’ve been mocked by the man I loved most of all for crying and having feelings, and loving him, like that was some bad thing?? In these text messages, because he used texting of all methods to pick a fight with me after 8 years on and off together about our “status”, so that should say what a coward he is, he legitimately was like “I bet you’re crying” and I was like “so what? I’ve been crying… there is nothing wrong with that” like loving him and being hurt by his decisions, even if I understood they weren’t made about me, they were made about him, was something to be ashamed of? Or, having been in an incredibly abusive relationship most of high school, such that the kid threatened my male friends with knives and stalked me so the only friends I could have were in other counties I met through sports he wasn’t capable of being apart of, ones that he had no way of knowing about–and my parents just never intervened because they thought he would kill me. Or (more likely) because admitting why my relationship was bad would reiterate flaws in their own and the example they set for what marriage and relationships and love should resemble. 

Or almost dropping out of university over (different) heartbreak my junior year–I had every single class with this man and thought I was going to spend my life with him and it was derailed after we spent an entire evening at his Valentine’s Day cocktail because I found tinder on his phone. In my drunken state, I straight up punched this man in the face. I feel bad about it. I was obviously VERY intoxicated. And wanted him to feel a small portion of what emotional pain I felt in that moment. Obviously, I’ve been on the other side of domestic abuse. And would be on it years after. But it was literally just this physical reaction I had no ability to control. Mind you, I had just been voted Sweetheart of his fraternity and took the photos that week. I flew out to Kansas for New Years. Who the fuck willingly goes to KANSAS for anything, let alone New Years? Love makes you do some stupid fucking things. I had to go to therapy 3 days a week, go on SSRIs and anxiety medication, slept almost every hour of the day, watched Frozen about 53 days in a row, and was just depressed. Like full body, mind, and soul depressed. To this day, I don’t know if it’s even possible for me to get back to that state again, and I hope I never do, because it was AWFUL. I tried going out with my girl friends when they pressured me to, and I saw him in the bar, acting completely fine, laughing with his friends just a few days later because we had our school conveniently shut down for an 8 inch snow storm for like a week. Which, conveniently, occurred the night before we broke up and we were staying at his fraternity, 2 miles from my home. I did not have transportation in the snow. When I saw him happy in that bar, I just broke down in tears SOBBING. I ran out of it, I think it was Fitzgerald’s at the time but its now Might As Well I believe, pre-pandemic. I jumped over the fucking fence of that funeral home in the parking lot that used to be near He’s Not, and just ran home, at like 1 am, by myself, completely ditching my friends when there was 8 inches of snow on the ground. At one point, I just laid down in the snow in someone’s front yard and just stared up at the trees. I just didn’t know what to think and needed to make sense of things. Then, I asked a cop for a ride home because I was honestly so dead inside by the time, and I only had like half a mile left. I didn’t mentally care whether I made it home or not, but I knew he could get me there safest and easiest. He said no, which was pretty rude, but again, I just didn’t care. I’ll have to dedicate entire episodes to my love stories themselves, because they are beautifully tragic. 

I expose a lot of my feelings now, because I don’t think there’s any other way to live. Particularly not after so many near death experiences, physically and mentally. We’ll get to those. They are not the aforementioned.

But if I don’t actually date you, I don’t open up in the same sense. Or you’re not around me to be privy to that information. And with PTSD, you tend to isolate more, mentally, if not physically. So I realized there were a lot of people in my life, friends and family included, that I wasn’t necessarily scared to open up to, but chose not to. In part because I felt like a burden. The stuff I have been through is heavy, I’m aware of that. I didn’t think it was anyone else’s job to be concerned for it. I didn’t want them to be. Concern often meant judgment, as far as I was aware. Allowing myself to think about those instances was giving life to the negativity again. Like when Frodo looks into the Dead Marshes and is horrified but can’t peel his eyes away, risking his own demise by his curiosity. 

But also partly because MY c-PTSD is related to my family. My family has a long history of substance abuse and mental health disorders, largely due to the line of service. Though, in true military fashion, they are functioning alcoholics, or functioning cokeheads, or functioning people in society with a whole graveyard of skeletons in their closets. I was raised to face situations stoically, like the military does. To hide your crazy and never mention it again. Lest it be used against you.

Emotions were a weakness in my house.

Vulnerability was a weakness.

Having complicated family issues, especially in the USA, is difficult to address as is. How do you convey the fact that the large black man who was Vice Chancellor of UNC for 31 years, the man who happened to be the “dad” of your random roommate freshman year (he’s really her biological dad’s cousin, but that’s not my story to tell) is more of a father figure to you than your biological. How do you explain to people with happy, functional families, whose dynamics you admire and enjoy being a part of as their partner, that your own is fragmented. It deteriorated like a bomb when our maternal matriarch died in her own bedroom of the farm house, everyone expecting my grandfather to go first, especially with Agent Orange, but cancer is a bitch. With her, the cohesion of our unit became dismantled. My uncle, loveable, but, ultimately, a drunk chain smoker. My siblings, and our tumultuous relationship because they both went to the same college, and my little sister tagged along with my brother often, so they never lost the dominant-older-brother, submissive-younger-sister tactic and she played into that when it benefitted her with drinking locally and tailgate options. However, I went to a very different school to study some very different subjects because, honestly, I’m just a very different sibling. Though I appear to be a carbon copied duplicate. We all look identical. My sister is more frequently just assumed to be my twin.

They both had to live up to the expectations of me. And I was surreal. I still am, in a lot of ways, adulthood just doesn’t “reward” you in the same way when you’re into weirder things. Comparisons bred competition. And competition bred hatred. My brother never got the spotlight. Even when he was winning his National Championship (either the second or third year they went to the finals in Omaha), I was getting award after award in academic excellence, half a million dollars of scholarships. I was somehow proof that my family was “doing something right”. I had hated my biological dad since I was old enough to recognize I did not like the way he treated me, I did not like the way he treated women, and I did not like feeling like a “trophy”, hiding the reality of our relationship from the public eye. To this day, I do not have a relationship with him. Instead of telling people this in honesty, he creates these lies about my life that he’s heard through the grapevine and repeats to others and acts like he heard it first hand. He’s the type of guy who name drops, which is also why I almost feel guilt or shame for talking about all of my cool experiences because it seems like “bragging”. But he’ll name drop in a way that, if he meets Cal Ripken on a plane and introduces himself, he’ll brag about it. I go on vacation with these people. We are not the same. 

The people who have known me the best were my friends. Not my family. Same goes for the ones who accept me and see me for the good that I am. 

My best friend Molly left my house sobbing after seeing a relatively mild fight between my parents. A fight that didn’t even affect me at that moment. I used to run away multiple times a week to get away from the fighting. I hated my parents being together. They were shells of themselves as individuals and as caregivers. My relationship with my dad in particular is probably never going to be “healthy” or “positive” because he is physically incapable of connecting emotionally. And emotionally, I needed a father. He was not there. Or handled everything, especially his interactions with me, disgustingly engrained with misogyny but refusing to see or not having the resources to understand the implications of his actions at the time. And the reality of the world is that he still can’t see outside of his own perspective, so that might be impossible for him. He can see it, rationalize it, but he doesn’t empathize with it. He’s the type of guy who starts facebook debates and should’ve been in politics because he has the ruthless mentality for it and doesn’t care who he hurts or how he’s affecting his interactions. My baseline for what was healthy in this life was so fucking skewed that it’s pathetic. And acknowledging that does not discount the phenomenal opportunities that my childhood afforded. Or the gifts that I have because of my biological parents. 

It’s really hard to balance growing from situations and seeing the benefits to you long-term, or somehow feeling grateful for experiencing them, because they’ve made you the person you are today, and you LOVE that person you are now, with seeing just how messed up they were at the same time. Or with what boundaries you’ve had to establish in your own adult life, because of the way you recognize him, and the rest of your family, continuously make you feel. And that realization only comes with reflection.

I now see my weaknesses as room for growth.

I see vulnerability, particularly our mindset towards it, as room for growth.

I see the cultural mentality of NOT talking about it, as having room for growth. 

I also didn’t realize just how unhealthy my family’s dynamic was until I started babysitting for families in Chapel Hill that were well-educated generation after generation and, most importantly, financially secure. Seriously, I babysit for a former Ambassador to China. A former Democratic governor of North Carolina. A man who worked on Obama’s housing administration. Their family dynamics were so healthy, so loving, so secure. It has truly been the biggest honor of my life to be allowed and happily included as a part of those. Summer after summer. Included on family vacations to Europe, school trips, just day-to-day, “real” life. I’ve gotten to grow up and protect some of the most wonderful children, who I cannot wait to see what they do in the world. I got to actually be in a family, be appreciated, loved, and included. Often without expectation–I talk to all of those families constantly, whether I am working for them or in the area or not, just to get updates. And more importantly, they reach out to me, unprompted.

In fact, one of the families I babysit for was going through a particularly nasty divorce (they’ll come back up when I eventually get into my experience with shrooms and dive into alternative medical treatments) in such a way that, like my own home life, her husband was bipolar, unmedicated, and abusive. I had to be present at “child exchanges” so he wouldn’t “misbehave” around the kids. And you can bet your ass I made myself available. I had decided to take the year off, walking dogs and babysitting in Chapel Hill after graduating because entry biochem degrees paid the same amount, especially after taxes, as freelance dog walking. (Had I made it an official business, dog walking would have been more financially rewarding and happier, to be honest. Much better quality of life. Which is pathetic for USA working culture.) That flexibility allowed me to be there when her nanny cancelled on her and she was already 3 hours away on Bald Head Island and her kids were back in Chapel Hill, during an issue of exchange with their father. I was there to be the person who picked up her car at her house (also in Chapel Hill), picked up her kids, drove 3 hours to BHI to bring them to her for the week, and then drove 3 hours back in a rented car. She paid me well. Better than most jobs would at the time. And I felt appreciated. Necessary. I can’t say I’ve felt the same at any corporate or institution-based job as of late, even my medical ones. The mom will STILL, years later, send me holiday cards, letters, and text messages or snapchats of her kids and how much it helped them that I could provide that stability for them when they had none from the other aspects of their lives. And they provided that stability for me too, and emotional support, and above all, love. 

And I do not like “kids”. Although I am PHENOMENAL with them. The kind of phenomenal where, at my best friend’s mom’s second wedding, I had a gaggle of children running around with me into the photo booth, dancing, whatever. I saw it as my best opportunity for fun. Most of the guests were old and boring to talk to or only talking to each other. There were no single men. People asked if the Bride’s Daughter’s Fiance was my date. (I went solo.) The kids, however, had a BLAST. It’s kind of like how that baby just latched on to Maleficent. Something about children and animals just know that they can pull that sliver of goodness out of me and that is exactly why I avoid them. Kids, I have to answer to. Animals, I don’t avoid because they just sit in your presence and, while they can definitely smell your emotions and sense things with concerning clarity, they don’t expect anything of you. 

I do not have a lot of patience, particularly not for “feelings” over “logic”, so being a part of those family dynamics was something I thought was unattainable to me. It’s also something that scares me about the realities of living with PTSD and how, even when everything is going perfect in my life, I might just be reminded of an instance I hadn’t thought of in years and be brought to a screeching halt on my progress. I always said I couldn’t imagine having kids, not just because I just truly cannot picture my life that far in the future. I might not even BE alive. I might not even be able to HAVE kids. There’s too many factors that are beyond recognition or control for me to even begin thinking about predicting that stuff. But also because I cannot imagine having to raise children and be responsible for being that empathetic ALL THE TIME. And I would WANT to be a stay-at-home-mom. …But ONLY if I could also travel the US with them constantly, especially over the summers, and raise them with a lot of the outdoors. Because let’s be real, I’m such an ENTJ that nobody will do a better job raising my own kids than me. I even have to win at THAT. And I am not rich, and currently am on track to take on yet again more debt because I have nothing else to do with my life that warrants a change in focus, and will, like I said in “Animal Behavior”, be more like someone’s ideal SECOND wife. The person these men marry AFTER they finally know who they are. Because, again, what men of worth are going to be like George Clooney and wait, particularly when they are ALSO of significant value and have choice after choice at their disposal, to take a chance on me, a higher risk. 

But to me, particularly as a woman, raised so conservatively. Motherhood was the one identity I was expected to have. It was my “duty” to this Earth. It somehow surpasses all of my intellectual achievements, no matter how far I take them. No matter how influential my art, knowledge, or science becomes. But it is also the one identity that I am expected to be undeniably selfless, above all. But giving yourself to others is hard. Especially others that don’t reciprocate or understand your love. I didn’t used to think I’d be good at it. Now, I know I would be, and I still feel the same confusion. So how about let’s stop putting that pressure on women and allow people to have expectations and goals in life that we ask them about and care about that might not align with “financial” success, or might not align with “traditional” values but align with values of “humanity”. 

That’s just tip of the iceberg into the dating and familial trauma too. (You can tell, I am GREAT at parties. Story for EVERYTHING. It’s knowing when to pick and choose telling the story, derailing the conversation, or knowing the place for complacency and listening that is the harder part.)

My PTSD ultimately stems from totaling my car at 80 miles per hour on I-95 (it was a 70 mph zone) in August of 2018, when I was on my way to take my national certification in public health and move to North Carolina to start a new chapter of my life. I’ll get into that at a later date, but I even stopped at a gas station, checked my tires, and called my best friend 5-10 minutes earlier saying I had a creepy unexplainable feeling (seriously, it defies logic) and made an appointment to get my car checked all-over, just as “precautionary” with a different dad I babysat for in Chapel Hill who owns Chapel Hill Car & Tire. Only a few minutes later, I was texting him saying “nevermind. My car is totaled.” as I waited for the police to shut down the intersection and cut my car out from where it was lodged 20-30 yards into the treeline. My tire just popped. Just like that. And instead of spinning under the tractor trailer to my right, I hit trees at every angle and ultimately came to rest with one on my driver’s side that just happened to hit the support beam perfectly dead-center. Inches from my face. Apart from the muscle fatigue, I just wanted to get up and get back to that life I had planned for myself. I borrowed my mom’s second car for a few months, moved there, got a job, started living in the same city as the man I loved, lived with my best friends upon her request–things were getting back to normal. 

All I was doing was distracting myself, though. I kept myself so busy that I never sat with my thoughts. I didn’t want to face or think about the reality of what I had just lived through, or how I felt about it, because doing so would change the way I lived my life and I just wanted it to continue according to my plan.

I’m not a religious person. Normally, I think people tend to revert to faith to help them in times like these. I did, however, start going to hot yoga regularly. This was usually 60-75 minutes to sit and flow, letting the warmth of the sauna heat stretch my fairly inflexible muscles. Because, as all gymnasts know, strength and flexibility often do not mix. You have to stretch SO MUCH for every ounce of power you gain. You sit, in the heat, and listen to the thoughts of the day. Taking what resonates, distancing yourself from what doesn’t. It’s very similar to church, except you might be wearing a sports bra and spandex and dripping sweat from every crevice of your body. However you choose to show up on that day is worthy of being loved and appreciated. Even days where most of the time I would just lay down, in child’s pose, physically exhausted once I actually had the time to recognize that I was. Even the days that I rested and DIDN’T show up were important. Your body needs rest. You need to refuel it. You need to nourish your soul in the same way you nourish your body. You need to be able to know how to balance that in a healthy, sustainable way. In reference to all aspects of your life. 

Over time, my yoga practice changed. Before and after the accident. Some days, whether it was the class, what time I arrived, or whether I was with someone, where I sat was altered. The teachers were often different, and each one had an incredibly unique style. I had my favorites, sure, but none except maybe Anita, who I also babysat for, was close to my Spanish hot yoga teacher in Houston, Texas. (I would finish a 14 hour day at MD Anderson working on terminal head & neck and thoracic cancer, some of the most severe cases, just soaking up as much information as I could) and go to the yoga studio on the way home, then go home, make dinner, and sleep. Every day. In part because the teachers were so excellent but also because they had a $30 unlimited month of yoga and as a broke undergraduate student who wasn’t allowed to have a job by my parents growing up but was expected to cater to their demands for what I wanted to spend my money on or what they were willing to pay for, I was gonna get my money’s worth. 

Even with the teachers, studios, and scenery differences, the messages and mentality don’t change. That parallels exactly how I approach life. Clutching opportunity as it benefits me, powering through a very strange trek of self acceptance, physical and mental finessing, and educating myself incessantly. And I had to be open to the changes that were outside of my control. The days my clinic ran long because the guy’s entire facial reconstruction grafted from his thigh for his stage 4 squamous cell cancer deep in the tissues of his face would prolong his life for a few extra months–for what? And did I really need to punish myself, or him, for that in any way? 

My struggle with c-PTSD often mimics the discussion between palliative care and pursuing more aggressive western medical treatment. Could I be jumping back into routine, content to live the rest of my life on the same Westworld loop, knowing that my mind and life has been changed because of what I’ve experienced, but being too scared to acknowledge that change because it means letting down others or deviating from the path I’ve known my whole life? The one that was scripted for me? For all the John Muir books you read, you sure don’t seem to pay attention to the words you’re so drawn to. The paths less traveled. Those intertwine with mine. 

So like palliative, or more holistic care, do we try something new as a nation, as a workforce, as a species? Accept things that have ample anecdotal evidence, easily explainable through simple science interwoven with psychology, but maybe not seen worthy of “institutional” research, and thus, not being funded or financially viable in a capitalist economy to study, though not necessarily being less “worthy” of a treatment regimen. Set limits for ourselves. When to stop treatment. How many things to try. Knowing what our options are, what is feasible, and trying things outside the box–if nothing else but for our own enjoyment. Our own quality of life. 

Recognizing the struggling nature of even our “manliest men”, particularly our own veterans, committing suicide over the reality of former versions of themselves and not being able to reintegrate into society because they don’t know where their place now lies, or it just seems downright futile, or unimportant, is a necessity. It’s not unlike the struggles I often face either, at least mentality wise, though I make no attempts to discount the realities of active combat compared to however the fuck you would describe my own life. I have witnessed death. I have contemplated death in many forms (my own, my friends, family, loved ones, the people who abused me that I wished in certain moments would die.) I haven’t had to take life at the direction of someone else, though, for reasons I’m unaware of. Why do we just accept that we shouldn’t address this? Especially when we have as a nation condemned ourselves to inevitable warfare for generations to come because you really think these authoritarian regimes in the world give a fuck about our sanctions and aren’t just waiting for the prime opportunity to strike? Ya. Give me a break. 

I once talked to my stepdad, a career Navy man whose meetings on the development of new naval craft I often overhear. We were talking about how he used to fly drones in the Gulf War and now creates his own pyrotechnics and fireworks, still likes to shoot his guns, tends to his farm, and exists as most military men do, preparing for a “doomsday” scenario. It was great for quarantine, gotta say. I, playing lots of Call of Duty, often gravitate towards sniping. I was great at the “sweeper” position in soccer, which, for those who don’t know, is the last line of defense, because I’m good at reading the game. Of anticipating the movements of my enemies. Of understanding the support at my disposal but also having a clearer read of the direct situation, though from further away. So one day I mentioned I was curious about learning how to shoot a sniper, out of nothing more than “fun”. I’d been reading about Lyudmila Pavlichenko, one of the deadliest snipers of WWII, who racked up 309 kills, 36 of them being enemy snipers. I think I would be particularly talented at it. I have a knack for putting myself at risk, and the only reason I don’t, or haven’t, joined the army or some military force is because my Granddaddy KNEW what awaited women in military service AND I question authority just a LITTLE too much.

Once you lose that respect, it is done.

You are gone.

I am cut-and-dry. 

You can earn it back, sure, but few people have ever tried to go that route because it often requires something people are incapable of: honesty.

Particularly when it’s pointed out by a subordinate, however intelligent, who threatens to drop you down in the ranks and sidestep you on her own way to the top. In reality, maybe being honest prevents you and others from living a life of unhappiness. It’s like how euphoric it is for people who identify as LGBTQ (I’m one of them, queer as fuckkkkk or just weird, i’m not quite sure what the difference is at this point) to come out of the closet. Or, for those of us who never really “formally” announce but just decide that being “pansexual” is probably the progressive choice because, realistically, I find women fucking beautiful and intriguing and maybe I will meet one I want to be intimate with. Maybe it’ll be a man who USED to be a woman but now has the bodily mechanisms I am particularly drawn to in men. Win-win. The mentality of a female and knowledge of emotions in the body of a man? This is why I’m drawn to the energy of male creatives, even those who are intellectual and brilliant and “appear” macho, but are actually very “feminine”. Basically, I’m pretty sure between my PTSD and being so deprived of love and affection for so long, coupled with my nature of science, genetic abnormalities, chromosomal locations for genes, and the implications of modern medicine such that, you may never be able to “tell” in the future what gender someone was born as, has forced me to re-visit my own sexual identity and be like “Alright, not as heteronormative as I thought. Good to know. Let’s move forward.” 

It reaches a point though, particularly with being honest with yourself, and ESPECIALLY with those of you listening who may also have depression, anxiety, or even PTSD like I do, where you no longer have a choice, you need to address your mind.

It’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done, but it’s necessary.

And you are capable of doing it, no matter who has somehow convinced you that you aren’t–even if that person is yourself.

Mine was a delayed reaction. And, I imagine with quarantine, a lot of people are struggling with delayed reactions of their own. Being at home, with your own thoughts, with the life you might’ve had to escape before, may be terrifying. Or it might not be safe. It might be more triggering. And you might feel like there isn’t an escape, from anything, but particularly not from your own mind. The only thing keeping you holding on might be the effect you have on other’s lives. But then, those same people may also remind you of the darkest times in your life and the shame and guilt that has been indoctrinated into you that you feel the need to apologize for, so it’s as hurtful as it is calming to be around them and you worry that they’ll disappear from the good moments too, so you just don’t allow them to be included. Or you worry they won’t appreciate your good moments, because they’re really not that special. They aren’t unique. It’s something like a pretty sunset. The way your dog snuggled against you longer than usual. Your coffee tasted a little more perfect. You’re happy at work and enjoy the project you’re a group member on and your contribution. Nothing like the accolades and admiration you used to receive. The life-or-death struggle and “risking it all” you were told meant devaluing your own life compared to those around you, and forgetting you’re really taught to depend on each other in those life-or-death moments. Mulan’s scene with the Huns should’ve been enough Disney magic to make it more clear how easy it is, even for authority, to be wrong. Blinded by their rage. Consumed in their system. Doing everything by-the-book and under the direction of authority, when a novel idea pops up and, had Mulan given a damn to any of them, would not have tried, worked, or saved them. 

Living with PTSD means being on high alert to details. It means existing in a fight-or-flight state much longer than you should. I looked death in the face, let my arms fall slack (easy with years of horse back riding and gymnastics teaching me to fall without hurting myself), fully expecting the warm embrace of death and being okay with it, then blinked my eyes, scrambled out of the passenger seat (a necessity because my key being warped in the ignition and the engine being stuck on while the car was damaged beyond recognition and crunched around my frame made it a fire hazard amongst the pine needles, grabbed my dog, and then was just perfectly okay. I had a few scratches, I was sore, but I was alive. And physically, fine. 

Only I didn’t really know how to be alive again. The world seemed slower, but faster, at the same time. Life felt meaningless, complicated, and futile. I remain motivated, but if I don’t see the bigger picture or how something benefits me, I just don’t have the energy to do it any longer. Maybe it’s more of my ADHD, which, as an adult, I’m pretty sure is just related to my inability to prioritize things that I don’t actually see value in prioritizing. I have extreme hyperfocus towards anything of worth. So much so that it becomes neurotic fascination to a degree. And that’s not intended to be in a selfish way, but in a “I am mentally tired of the fight. And I need to rest and pick and choose my battles.” 

PTSD, particularly coupled with the mental complexity of an ENTJ, offers me a unique perspective to society. I can see, navigate, the uncertainty. It is familiar, not murky territory like “The Upside Down” in Stranger Things. Existing in survival mode has allowed me to be excessively perceptive of my surroundings. Of the factors at work in the cultural environment around me. Of the details below the surface that might explain or predict certain responses.

Yet I struggle with WHY I’m still here, against all odds. 

What about me was worth saving time and time again? 

What purpose am I supposed to bring to this earth? 

Surely, it’s much more than simply attending to other’s desires for 8 hours a day? 

I imagine introspection for me is a lot like how people read the Bible. It’s similar to how I used to study it in private school, but again, that’s just me. I don’t really “Read books” or “do anything” the way “normal” people do, apparently. Only, instead of confession in darkened closets, I think for the sake of accountability in our nation, and being able to actually treat these issues as public health and more importantly, mental health issues, we have to stop shaming them into obscurity. And people have to see symbols of beauty, of grace, of attraction, of power, of respect as those whose opinions they admire. So there’s something to be said for pandering to an audience to gain attraction. 

But, I’ve just watched way too many people die because of preventable things, be unhappy because of unreasonable expectations or the fear of change, and then not knowing or seeing that ever represented and I realized that openness is hard to come across. Or, it’s in people who are either traditionally introverted, so they’re less likely to share it, or are now susceptible to the realities of the world and revert to the dark recesses of their lairs and solitude because they know the community isn’t actually on their side. It’s why men love Reddit so much–they can actually exist as who they want to be, online. That’s why every “Ask Men” thread on reddit that gains popularity is “hey men, what are some feelings you’re too scared to share?” They’re almost always issues about not being able to express emotion. Yet, threads all those same channels over also have blatant misogyny and are straight up rude to commenters that they perceive as being women. We have a serious “identity” issue in the USA where vulnerability is an incredibly rare cultural trait because it’s weaponized against us, as is the military and patriarchal way, and we need another educational and artistic revolution of sorts, based around the love of science and logic and reality of life as humans.

All that sticking to that patriarchal mentality has gotten us in the USA is substance abuse issues, suicide rates (particularly for those under 35 and men of all ages), violence towards women that is unaddressed, sexualization of everything feminine (in such a way that a child’s collarbones being exposed may be disruptive of learning somehow), divorce, and widespread discontent that benefits nobody in the long run, and then demands of “how are we going to pay for it” like we don’t, as a society, set arbitrary values to everything we fucking sell based on what kind of profit we think we can make from it. Maybe, just maybe, we just need to shift some of our values. 

Do we really think a whole bunch of these white men LOVED Star Wars, went absolutely fucking nuts over the internal debate between the light and dark side, and CHAMPIONED the struggle with it, because they weren’t feeling a little mentally repressed? Or like they had no out in their own lives but could suffer vicariously living through others who were braver who graced their screens and did what had to be done, what they, ultimately, couldn’t do for themselves? No. They just didn’t realize their expression of emotion solely existed in creative outlets or sports or anything other than expression of themselves. Because emotion is restricted for drama. It’s theatrical. Anything similar to that in real life is just “too difficult”. Some of our real lives resembled movies, though. Or we all have moments of recognition that flash across our memory, like Amy Poehler’s character in Inside Out when she brings up a core memory, or sometimes just sends the random ones to the front. Things we can pick out, relate to, and empathize with in rewatching other’s situations. Only, it seems we can only find empathy when we also understand and have access to the reality, when we can relate. When we’re thrust into witnessing the full effect of its consequences. We don’t believe it, or don’t care, until we see it in our own neighborhoods. We can’t keep doing that. And we can’t keep demanding people to relive these horrifying ordeals just to justify or validate their struggles in this world. 

Removing the humanity from our workforce, instilling corporate, patriarchal culture towards everything, but especially “professionalism”, making your body a physical representation of anything other than yourself as a person and tying your financial, health, and general security in life to one thing that determines your value on our soil (and is solely based in productivity) is disgusting. It’s creating far too many problems and we cannot keep letting it go unaddressed or silenced just because it’s “uncomfortable” for the conservatives who “respect their bodies and faith so much more than we supposedly do, but still let child rapists and shame lead them in prayer while publicly condemning it blindly on a national scale based on people whose lives they have no insight to and hypocritical logic that defies reason”. All because they’re scared of confronting reality. So they want to trust in blind faith. Because you won’t always have the answers, and we as a universe, still don’t have all the answers and likely never will. So you get through it through prayer. 

As an aside: “Prayer” is really just a form of meditation. Only “self-reflection” is meditation towards yourself. “Prayer” is literally hoping someone else fixes things for you as long as you “just stay on track”. Ya’ll are living like socialists but condemn it. You are accepting handouts of faith and putting your trust in someone else but then condemn the people in government who have the means and ability to solve the same things, to make life a little easier and not such a rat race, to get back to what it actually means to be human and a valuable society, to provide TANGIBLE help, knowledgeable, clear help through ACTUAL programs instead of blind faith, but Fox News or Candace Owens throws a blank “Marxism” sticker to it, tells you that it’s “unrealistic” (it’s not), and keeps you uneducated and stuck in such bleak despair that you don’t even know where to start looking for help and just cling to your safety net as it drains you of your resources. 

My hometown had an F5 tornado rip a half-mile wide hole through our town, it touched down on my farm, took all the trees in my yard, but left my house. Took my neighbors down the road, though. We were shut down, constantly, for the DC Sniper, doing active shooter drills early into the 2000’s. We had parents in the Pentagon on 9/11. I had family in NYC who worked amongst the Twin Towers. Anthrax attacks, being warned not to open our MAIL, of all things. At times, bomb threats and concern over suspicious packages.

During my childhood, I was the last person to talk to and watch my friend Cliff, who I knew from pick up soccer over the summers, crash his motorcycle into the back of a black suv parked on the shoulder. The combination of his speed, illegal driving maneuver, and darkness of the night all inevitably panning out to his death. The logic didn’t make it any less jarring. 

I took my pony to his chemotherapy treatments, watched him slowly go blind, the pain becoming more visible, but not diminishing his love for me. And I felt the gap in my heart from his loss. I still feel it, even though I can also feel his spirit with me, if just in memory. 

I was with my Grandma when she took her last breaths, in her own bed, with my horses out the window, the American flag flying valiantly in the front yard, the rest of my family in a semicircle around her bed. 

I was on facetime at university when my Grandfather passed, the rest of my family by his side. 

I sat through funeral after funeral for my friends, or their siblings, or their parents. The hangings. The opioid overdoses. The heroin injections. The car wrecks from reckless driving. The drunk drivers. Shooting themselves. 

I witnessed, and felt, the pain of all of those. 

I helped in the aftermath.

I was, and often remain, responsible for the clean up. 

I see the patterns in behavior easily. It’s what makes me a good scientist. The analytical nature. Deconstructing what we know from what we think we know and how to bridge the gap between them. What actual risk is. What makes things subjectively “good” and “bad”? What patterns in our society brought about certain trends? It’s also why our treatment of emotion in this country infuriates me. 

And, because of that military upbringing, there was no other option apart from compartmentalizing. Through all of the reality of life– that the longer you live, the more of your loved ones you’ll watch die around you. The more “close calls” medically you’ll have. The more “narrow escapes” with automotive events you’ll have. You have to compartmentalize your emotions to be aware of that and continue. That’s why depression and anxiety and intellect is so correlated. It’s obvious that ignorance is bliss, so it’s hard to condemn the uneducated. And the older you are, the more opportunities to learn, to be knowledgeable, to experience these difficulties in life. Protecting people from it in a desperate facade instead of changing the system and working towards addressing it has obviously not been working. Pretending that’s the appropriate solution just simply can’t go on.

None of those former experiences derailed me in the way that acknowledging my c-PTSD and the car accident that ultimately started it have had. As many near-death experiences as I had before, I never TRULY had contemplated death. I was aware that I wanted to live, yes, but I didn’t have the ability to choose or alter what was happening to me in that scenario in particular. And that reflection on life, however brief, and acceptance of my death, even if just for a few moments, spurred this emotional flashback series that is unrelated to my photographic memory. 

I have a visual memory, it’s why it’s particularly difficult for me to not hold partners, family, friends, and the general public accountable. I am like an elephant. I do not forget things, I hold grudges, which I think are more “accountability to a higher standard of acknowledgement” than “grudges”, but I digress. I remember odd details about life and interactions with such inexplicable clarity that it is why I haven’t had to really study for my success in school. If I write something myself, I can then picture the words recreated on the page. The muscle memory of creating them. Or drawing the structure and understanding the mechanisms of its use. Which cycles of the body interact. I have a knack for seeing how interwoven and complicated systems function, because my body is its own. My mind, and world in general, is its own. Vastly more complex and deviant from anything I could have predicted. But even that, as confusing as it is, is a gift. 

As dark, or heavy, of a topic PTSD is, particularly c-PTSD is, I actually often find nothing lighter. 

Now, do I have recurrent nightmares that are completely fucked up with no logical explanation and resemble something from a horror film that would make Jordan Peele a LOT of money? Yes. 

Is it difficult to date because the reality of revealing the extent of near death experiences, domestic abuse, familial interaction and dynamic, the gravity and complexity of your childhood with also the ways you benefited from it, the boundaries you’ve established as an adult? Also yes.

As a hot girl, I clearly have plenty of options. Dick gets thrown into my inbox like it’s the paperboy delivering the newspaper in the 1980’s. But do you think I have the energy to give a fuck about what man wants to procreate with me without taking the time to learn who I am? To learn who he is? To figure out why I intimidate him or why he perceives the neutral things I say, even as an engineer, as a negative? No. Please stop asking me to. 

It seems an impossible task. I’m not here to tell you PTSD is easy, at all. Like I said, it’s never something you “recover” from. It’s something you “treat”. Something you will live with, though learn to healthily cope with, for the rest of your life. 

It’s especially scary to reflect on other memories, on separate, unrelated memories, and recognize how your actions in unrelated scenarios stemmed from your inability to accept or confront the things you are running from. The reality you’ve been running from for a while. That you don’t like what’s happened to you. That you don’t know where to go from here. That you aren’t sure you even trust your direction any more. When you reach that point, you usually face the option of accepting the need to confront your feelings or not wanting to be on this earth any longer. Some people, particularly men, who are not safe to express emotion in society (because I, as an attractive woman, am even criticized for expressing emotion. How do we think the men are going to be revered?)

Our presidential candidate was mocked on a huge national news network for having a son with a substance abuse disorder. By our current president. In a country suffering from an opioid epidemic because of the state of healthcare in our country and big pharma financial pushes of drugs, despite KNOWING the addictive quality. Of looking for the quick, easy solution to all of our pain in this country. Of looking for the greatest financial reward and refusing to address it because it might be a “little difficult”. Or of not holding the people responsible accountable in any legitimate way. Because it’s “white crime” and they didn’t directly pull the triggers, or fill the prescriptions. Meanwhile, I’ve had probably at least ten people from my small graduating high school class of 330 who have died from these issues. In under ten years. They weren’t “problem kids”. Our greatest “problem kid” who had to have his own instructional assistant so he wouldn’t have to go to the school for “problem kids” is now a police officer, so either way we can just let that little assumption that the only people who are affected to this fall into that category. They were people from families who just lacked direction in life, didn’t know how to get to where they wanted to go, didn’t know where they fit in with the world, and didn’t have anyone looking out for them to take them away from it.

Because how do we look after anyone else in a society that doesn’t even afford us to look after ourselves correctly?

That thinks healthcare is a luxury? In a “developed” world? 

I have PTSD. I am, by all means, on paper, undeniably successful. Even with all of the situations I witnessed or was a part of, many of which are not even included here or being touched on in any way, though are equally as grim, I kept my shit together. I graduated with 41 college course credits from 14 A.P. classes, Salutatorian in part because I took extra, unweighted classes. I graduated in one of the most difficult majors (shoutout biochem. Worth every torturous organic chemistry equation. Which, it turns out, are not actually torturous when you have the time to focus on the subject and approach it like a puzzle) from a top 5 public university. I earned my masters in epidemiology from a top 6 public university, paying for it myself, taking out loans. I have been all over Europe, the United States to a degree. Maybe not as much as others, whose families had the means to travel and leave a farm, 10 horses, and bring 3 children on vacation growing up, but regularly enough since I went to college, and tied purely to curiosity instead of sports. I have sat in on, been witness to some of the most significant, meaningful conversations. The Paris Agreement. Various litigation. I stayed in the apartment one street away from the Louvre in Paris right across from the el Jardin des Luxembourgs, that was owned by the guy almost single-handedly responsible for bailing out Puerto Rico and doing us a favor. 

Nobody would know the intimate details of my life if I didn’t want them to. I overlap enough circles, with relative anonymity and purely through chance, that sharing my successes often comes off as “bragging”. I should know, because the last time I visited my sister in Baltimore, I spent 3 hours crying to her about how exhausting it is to have to repeat myself and revisit my experiences just to get her to validate my emotions and understand my struggles in life. She didn’t understand because my life “wasn’t hard”. Because I seem to carry them with ease. Stoically, unemotionally, cold, effortless. Success comes easily to me.

For all of those insane highs, though, the lows have been just as miserable. And experiencing event after event after event like the Baudelaire orphans in “A Series of Unfortunate Events”, which the rest of the world just collectively calls “2020”, it can be hard to live with that knowledge and feel so dissociative. You resort to avoidance strategies, feel like you’re permanently damaged in some way just because you hear the words “chronic condition” and there is no easy western medical fix addressing the problem. This isn’t chlamydia, you can’t take a pill and one week later, BOOM! Back and ready for business. 

You can be “back and ready for business”, to be clear, if you absolutely have to. You can pull it together, grin it and bear it for the “greater good”, because you see it as the only solution available to you in that moment. 

You don’t have to be.

And that solution doesn’t have to be the only one.

And suicide, doesn’t even have to be on the table.

But we have to start talking about it. And we have to stop pretending like it isn’t affecting every community across America, even in our most “manly” veterans. The people we have, collectively, revered above all else because they let us focus on topics like mental health on our shores and treatment of women instead of direct warfare within our own land. Although, I will also make a point that we have also chosen to intertwine ourselves unnecessarily so on an international level with completely obvious and inexcusable reasons, whether it’s “establishing democracy” or “modern day colonization” because we pick apart a LOT of other people’s behaviors in other countries without addressing overlying themes within our own land. We have to stop excusing the “military” as a system because criticizing the patriarchy is somehow conflated with criticizing every individual man, or every individual soldier, and their lack of knowledge at the time and participation in such systems, or even maybe the problematic behavior in question, causes them to be defensive rather than to learn from experience.

It’s HARD to be wrong. And it’s especially hard to be wrong when doing so is going to cause you to open a floodgate of maybe even self-loathing, or disdain because all of the signs were there and you couldn’t see it for what it was. Or you “should’ve known better.” So you think not being honest is doing the right thing, saving everybody the trouble. On little things, it is. The trouble is, its now so rampant through our society that we excuse things like cheating, misleading others when it comes to sex, or worse, a RELATIONSHIP, liability over safety, reality, or practicality, profit over consumers. We think it’s capable to just rebuild without establishing a stronger foundation.  

We have created a world that denatures human interaction while simultaneously creating unfathomable ways for humans to interact.

That is our purpose in a society. 

It is the reason we live together in cities, in groups, big or small. It is the reason I do not fuck off to the Appalachian Trail and live as a recluse, how I’m arguably meant to. 

Human. Interaction. 

Let’s please make it healthier. Let’s make it EASIER for those interactions to be healthier. Let’s stop increasing the hurdles people who are now knowledgeably predisposed to be more hostile, distrustful towards the world have to face. Do we want to create groups of citizens that resemble rabid dogs? I think “I am Legend” kind of forewarned us of that. Especially when these people may very well hold the keys to reality, but are afraid of turning the lock because how it is perceived–by themselves, their friends, their families, their occupations, creates such a cognitive dissonance when who they are is just different from what they thought they were going to be. What they had planned to be. Instead of starting fresh, we cling to what we know as humans. Then yell at others to “if you don’t like it, leave!” all while complaining about the same concepts and accepting, and voting, for complacency instead of the often, very simple changes that, little by little, make a collectively large difference. 

We have to start being okay with our emotions, as men, women, non-binary beings, animals, creatures of the night, gremlins, witches, whatever. We have to learn from the world around us, study everything constantly. Reflect. Treat life on this Earth like the experience it’s meant to be. The future, starting with now, that we NEED to work towards for actual progress. Some of us don’t get a choice with what we’ve experienced, or had to. Taking away the opportunity for us to talk about it is just conservative society’s way of further depersonalizing those experiences. Of further avoidance. Of not addressing the hopelessness, of feeling different from others around us. We aren’t so different. We can all relate to each other, in a lot of ways. 

Mental wounds are a lot like the physical. They might look fine during a wound check, then have completely changed direction the next day, rampant and overrun with infection. Treatment might work “best” or “most commonly” one way, and by chance, you happen to find something a little better tailored for YOUR needs. You can switch. We can prescribe antibiotics when needed, because sometimes your body’s natural system just can’t provide you with the defense you need. And we can recognize when we’re overprescribing, when the practices and standards need to change. Some need to be covered, protected from the light. Others flourish when open to air. We just need to start allowing our wounds to heal before picking at our scabs and stop allowing our scar tissue to be the predominant fixture in our minds, because it’s what is obvious, when the important thing is the healing process is progressing. However slowly, with however many deviations, derailments, changes of course. 

Healing is not linear. Other experiences will share similarities but also drastically differ from mine. Is it weird to share it? Undeniably. It never gets easier. But PTSD affects 7-8% of all Americans at some point. About 17 veterans a day die by suicide. People who fought defending the reality we live in. Who then returned to this reality and realized maybe everything was better if they had died in war. And took it upon themselves to change that trajectory. I get why you don’t want to share, or focus, on that. But if we’re going to splash the horrific news of the world on our front pages, we need to also start working on solutions. Highlighting solutions with the same ferocity we highlight the issues. Acknowledging the growth. The positivity in the stories. The lights that bloom in darkness.

Sharing is a means to an end for me. I don’t like to do it. Particularly not about something like my FEELINGS. It makes me uncomfortable beyond belief. My entire life, I have always loved validation, I seek comfort in success of all forms, but I expect it. I don’t think it needs to be “rewarded” or “coddled”. I prefer to let others be the emotional ones, seeking the spotlight for positions of authority. I lead best through example, not direction.

But I see no hope of a future I want to live in without it.

And I see no light in the distance.

So I will forge ahead with my own.

And mark the path behind me for others to follow me. 

RESOURCES:

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/complex-ptsd

https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/322886#what-is-complex-ptsd

New veteran suicide numbers raise concerns among experts …www.militarytimes.com › news › 2019/10/09 › new-vet…

Animal Behavior

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
Animal Behavior
Loading
/

Imagine growing up, hidden away from the harsh reality of the world, on a 75 acre tobacco farm with rolling hills, swampland, Native American remnants, and horses galore. Now imagine spending every day traversing the landscape on your horse, trudging along dutifully, galloping up the grassy slopes, wading into the ripples of the pond, jumping over the fallen trees, so far away from society that you are sheltered from its clutches–free to exist as wildly as you were born to. Now imagine hitting age 18 and being expected to work in the confines of a concrete building, at times never seeing the sun for weeks on end, because it is your “duty” to help others, in a world where almost half of your constituents actively vote against actual freedoms in a desperate grasp on to freedom from accountability. Shit sucks.

Finding your place in that world, particularly as a wild creature, is especially difficult. To be expected to exist so unnaturally, subject to the confines of human judgment. In societies based strongly around religions that you don’t respect. In beliefs that you know are naive, or just outright false. Slow to change, and slower to progress. It’s like one of those National Geographic specials when you compare the speed with which the lionesses prowling the Savannah hunt to the rate at which the grass grows. I understand the normalcy of pace is relative, but mine is off the charts. 

Add in several near death experiences of my own, an overwhelming heap of childhood trauma, and witnessing several deaths first hand, and you get the healthy knowledge of complex PTSD and along with it, questioning your reality while also trying to balance wanting to help the world with hating the world and all of humanity in it. Factor in the impulsive curiosity of ENTJ’s, an objectively attractive female body, and learning by studying the world around me and you’ve got the lethal combination that results in whatever the fuck I am. 

And I’m obviously intense. I know I’m “a lot to handle”. But, I believe it was the meme that said “fuck no I’m not wife material. I’m totalitarian dick material” that really made me feel “appreciated” for the way I am. Like, as alone as I normally am in this world, I’m not ACTUALLY that alone. There are others, equally weird, equally accepting, like me–just not necessarily in my physical environment. Again, download Tik Tok. Its like happiness and body positivity and quirky humor at its best. Which makes sense, seeing as how I lived tucked away on our farm in an incredibly conservative town the majority of my life. Or how my Aunt phrased it “we admire unique children and often criticize them as unique adults”. 

But, I guess I hadn’t realized how artistic I am with my life prior to having this extra time in quarantine. Sure, I was a painter and artist, supporting myself through graduate school. But I was a woman of STEM first and foremost. I was a professional. And you couldn’t blend both. Not in the extremity that I am naturally inclined to. But what good is science when it doesn’t captivate the audience? And what good is medicine when the knowledge of the human body is lost? 

It wasn’t until the third or fourth trip to Europe that really broadened my horizons in regards to what I thought about Sexuality. Growing up so conservatively, particularly in a military culture, I was taught to be quiet. Seen but not heard. Silent unless spoken to. Emotion, and sexuality, was visceral. A distraction. The only thing that separated us from the animals we raised was our control over that. 

But humans are animals.

In capitalism, we rush everything in such a way that life becomes a race. We are never calm because destruction is just around the corner–war, economic collapse, terrorism. Our men have been raised through such an incredibly toxic patriarchal society that their connections to their emotions exist almost exclusively through sport or animated virtual realities like this is The Oasis in Ready Player One. God forbid they express overwhelming love and vulnerability freely in case it’s unrequited. Our men lack the passion that European men are notorious for. They’ve forgotten the art of intimacy. Like everything else, even sex has become cold, quick, and transactional. 

And sex should be an art. You shouldn’t just fuck the guy who only makes you feel good for the ten seconds he lasts, just for you to need to seek out Plan B and an STD test and him being way more trouble than he was worth. Just save yourself the drama ladies–sex toys have gotten AMAZING. Why would you settle for a minimal chance of orgasm when you can watch porn and figure out ten ways to cum on your own? And even watch a guy get a little dominated so you’re not the only one getting fucked, literally or figuratively. And art is not meant to be appreciated universally. You will not be appreciated universally. But you should still perform it for those who are deserving. 

You should fuck the people who cultivate your body, drinking it in like a sip of fine wine, in the same way that you should look at it. As in, your body only gets finer as it ages. Those who understand just how many incredible cellular connections had to come together to create you, in this exact version, and understand just how truly spectacular that is. Those are the men you want to fuck. Is it because we cull all of our men like farm animals, desensitizing their cocks as babies, or is it the overwhelming porn addictions that detract from the artistic value of it? It’s definitely a “European” mentality, but I refuse to let fucking become so rabid, even in its most primal, that I allow my body to be misused by those incapable of painting. Someone who understands the raw power they hold, grasped within their palms, or perched upon their cocks. 

The USA needs a sexual revolution. 

The men are depressed, repressed, and consequentially worse at fucking because they can’t connect to their emotions and then express them. Sexual repression is strange to me, as an adult. The contrast between my childhood of Christianity forcibly deep throating me into thinking sex was, and should be, shameful or sneaky, and the reality of the world that I’ve come to terms with as a basically spiritual / inexplicable Atheist with a healthy BDSM kink is stark. We look at animals of other species to explain our own behavior. So with monogamy, why do I think humans have to be amongst the only 3-5% of 5000+ species of animals on this planet who are actually monogamous? Why would our society have outlawed homosexual behavior when over 450 species also exhibit displays of such? And why, in 2020, when we understand the cyclical nature of anthropological societal norms, with access to all of this knowledge, do we still allow for ignorance of these realities in the world? 

In some Ancient Roman civilizations, men commonly took up male sexual partners after marriage. Honestly, if you ask me, that’s pretty fucking hot. I personally really enjoy the idea of a man wanting no other woman other than me, but still allowing me to share partners with them. That would, honestly, be the dream. Two men I’ve seen intermittently currently live together–so the goal there would obviously be a throuple. JK…neither of them would ever be down to share me, although one of them claims it’s his fantasy. They’re both very into socialism though, so it’s also “on par” for why they might be down to share me, ya know. 

Plus, anyone who is into BDSM to an extent understands that it’s usually not about the action itself so much–it’s about the aspect of control. And control, in a country and during an age where we were raised to struggle with “sharing”, especially those of us with Great Depression/WWII Era grandparents, makes it easier said than done when it comes to another entirely different human that you have been engrained to think you’re supposed to “claim” for yourself. Branding them in one form or another, changing the way they’re addressed, as if it matters.

And the men who love me know that I’m wild. They know they cannot tame me, and are in for a very nontraditional form of life compatibility. Like I said, I’m a scientist. I’m more curious than anything. That tantalizing moment in Pirates of the Caribbean when Elizabeth Swann whispers in Captain Jack Sparrow’s ear? “You’re going to want to know what it tastes like.” That’s how I feel about sex and people I’m attracted to. The human body is incredible. I study action potentials and nerve endings all day. I just want to know how everything and everybody works. Medical people are some of the strangest because the kinks they never fail to develop around their professions are so eye opening. And who am I to judge? If it makes your body feel good, and you like it, whatever. Sex is supposed to be enjoyable for everyone involved, and it doesn’t need to follow a playbook. We need to stop kink shaming when they’re usually the result of conditioned norms and we need to stop shaming men and women alike for telling them for decades that sex was shameful, that masturbation was shameful, and that your body’s primary purpose should be for someone else’s use, particularly in a society where sex sells. 

I personally don’t feel that compelled to act on my urges that often. ENTJs are notorious for being the MBTI most likely to utilize sex toys and be more adventurous, but if I’m not mentally encapsulated, it’s just off like a light switch or how those vampires from The Vampire Diaries can just switch off their emotions. So if I don’t see a worthy candidate, or haven’t just connected with someone, I’m completely asexual. I’ve gone through two asexual phases of celibacy without even masturbating on two different 1.5-2 year segments purely because I went through difficult break ups and wanted to mentally be back on track before I could commit myself physically to anything. Which is also why I don’t view diversions from heteronormativity as that strange. I think exploration is natural, and humans are curious, odd creatures. Learning them at their most vulnerable, and primally heightened is the most dangerous game of all. It is fascinatingly intriguing to witness them illuminated in moonlight, free to slither around, uninhibited, completely comfortable with themselves and with you in that moment. 

How do I wander the Parisian canals, listening to the musicians play, Notre Dame standing tall and proud, having run all the way down the sloping cobblestones from the Basilica and windmills of Moulin Rouge? 

How do I roam the store fronts of Amsterdam’s red light district solo, after spending the afternoon biking around the city, basking in the powerful, somber, yet beautifully tragic collection of the Anne Frank House, wandering the Van Gogh exhibits in a museum solely dedicated to him, and then not direct my intrigue toward the cultural immersion of performative sex? The sexuality owned by the women illuminated by the curtains. The power of the men guarding their doors. The lack of attention I drew, walking down the middle of the street, even though I knew the random stares were still making the assumption that I was just coming off of a shift myself. 

How do I wander around the gardens in La Villa de Estes, walkways with hundreds of fountains and Bernadini sculptures, just to return home and be expected to buy into consumerism and keeping up with the Joneses? 

How do I float, freely, basically nude, in the waters of the Adriatic Sea, drifting easily with the increased salinity such that even with my muscles, I don’t automatically float to the bottom as I usually do? How do I do this and feel so uninhibited, so carefree, because my body is admired, sure, but is not shamed in such a way that it feels shameful to share it. Or lay upon the beaches in the South of France along La Ciotat, tits in every direction and men in speedos, and not having anyone steal a second glance.

In the USA, I can’t even go to a pool without a guy trying to swipe a snapchat of how nice my ass is, just so he can jerk off to the visual and cum on his phone screen later that night, but in European countries (most with legal prostitution, notably), I not only felt safe, but I felt natural, at ease. Like the way of life was ACTUALLY advanced. And how do I go back to the USA and expect to abide by corporate normalcy after I know these variations in the cultures exist, and that the bounds of my knowledge and reality constructed by my childhood for how the world worked was wrong? How do I balance experiencing these things, these places, then going back to the normalcy of whatever the fuck we think life is supposed to be about in the USA? 

How do I settle for men who are so disconnected from the purpose of humanity? And why would I ever be expected to settle just because my “biological clock” is ticking. If these men do not lock me down in time, that is not my fucking fault. They have nobody to blame for my genes not propagating in this life other than themselves.

I also think that’s a Freudian intrigue as to why men are so attracted to me… From a scientific perspective, we study a lot of societal traits or characteristics in objective ways to see how different evolutionary mechanisms arise. I, and everyone else, is, therefore, the result of their geneaological advancements that permitted them to survive until this day and age. Which, as an epidemiologist with a morbid fascination in all things grim, also reminds me that I likely have certain genetic factors for particular character traits, including predisposition to PTSD, anxiety, and depression, due to my family’s survivalist, military history. Union generals and prisoner of war, nursing and setting up our home as a hospital during the Civil War, traders with Native Americans and mastering nine different languages to facilitate peaceful exchanges (yeah, it sucks, we were also on their land but I can’t change that right now so I’m just glad we weren’t confederates unlike my good ole boy Strider’s fam). Serving in London during the Blitz in WWII, West Point Military Academy, Overseas tours of Italy, Korea, and Vietnam, the Italian Army War College, being a Knight of the Italian Republic, nuclear weapon developers within the Pentagon, more burials in Arlington National Cemetery than I can remember.

I’m an apex predator.

I’ll die fighting for what I believe in.

Why would I expect that intensity to ever be dulled in reference to anything, particularly in reference to the most primal form of submitting me to your advances? There’s a TON of dudes with breeding fetishes who have openly fantasized about the types of powerful children they would make with me. Honestly, I can’t blame them. I’ve never had to worry about it. What’s annoying is they don’t take any concrete steps towards setting up a secure familial life for me because they either think I’m “not ready” or wouldn’t be interested, even though I’ve explicitly told them I would but then they have the self confidence of Chuckie Finster from Rugrats and think I’m casting a magic spell over them and tricking them to some degree. This isn’t me being facetious either, they have told me this is how they interpret interacting with me. 

And I am brutally honest. I may be somewhat emotionally cold, but I’m very communicative. Maybe not outwardly expressive, but what do you expect when I’ve been expected to compartmentalize emotions. To perform on national stages no matter what condition I was in with reference to any other aspect of things going on. Tunnel vision. 

And now I can do, and find, and learn things with love?

And, after several near death experiences, I know just how precious this life I’m granted is. I’ve stared down what I thought was sure death, and felt peace. Acceptance. And then I just walked away, unharmed. I’m AWARE that most people would classify it as “mentally unhinged”. It’s fine. We’re working through it. My boyfriends get like 28 personalities so they have their hands full and it’s like a real life version of those Polly Pocket or Barbies–you can dress me however you want, I’ll look great. I’ve had several careers, nothing has really fueled my PASSION for life, though. Turns out, I’m more passionate about NOT working. Imagine that. Maybe it was the child labor.

Cats sit around all day and watch the stupidity of humanity and you don’t question it twice and still love them when they consent to giving you affection. Most of you even admire their defiance. The cute little scratches. (Unless you declaw them–pretty cruel, tbh. We might as well practice Chinese Footbinding for cats).

So why, when an intelligent lioness is watching her prey across the Savannah, surveying the pathetic lack of options in this drought of emotional intelligence, do we condemn it in human form as a “man hater”.

I am not a “man hater”.

Far from it.

I love men and as such, it is quite clear sexuality is not a fucking preference because there is no logical explanation as to why I should be attracted to men still, at this point. If anything, I’m Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater” come to life. I don’t try to be, either. One of the guys I have unfinished business with, who watches my instagram stories regularly (and I’m assuming, reads this or listens to it), compares me to Jennifer Lawrence’s character in “Red Sparrow”. And he does so admiringly. Guy is a special force medic in the Army, undeniably way too good of a person for me, he would like “encourage me to be the best version of myself” and all that shit, knowing that was an uphill battle. (I have long accepted that adulthood made me realize, begrudgingly, I was in fact, Slytherin, and not the Gryffindor.) But the fact that I can just know in some inexplicable way that he’ll come back into my life, because how do you turn your back on the actual grit and determination that gives you hope in the ungodly Moroccan heat, months into your deployment and never quite “settling in” because the reality of carrying weaponry with you at all times, and needing to, will never not be unsettling. And now that you’re home, and you realize you can’t just return to the life you thought you were leaving, because it’s never going to be the same sense of peace or naivety no matter how hard you try to will it so or try to protect others from the darkness.

How can you look past the allure of someone who owns that darkness as armour. Glittering, black in the night, the ambiance of my soul.

It’s pretty obvious by now that I would have been burned at the stake during the Salem Witch Trials. Every time I watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail, when they’re like “what makes you think she’s a witch?” Literally any answer for any guy is “well since women are more emotionally intelligent and men are predictable as fuck, so we can understand when you’re controlled by the thing you value most of all between your legs and that idea is terrifying to you.” Seriously, I get it. The sexual trance must be terrifying, yada yada. Can’t you mother fuckers just be grateful? 

One of the most interesting, and annoying, reflections, is also the knowledge that the men I’ve been “intimate” with also understand how soft and vulnerable I can be. Which, juxtapositionally speaking, is so significant that it warrants anomaly. Believe me, its not the most fun to sit and write about the sweeter topics, or ones that would normally be “easier” for people with happier backgrounds, or topics that warrant insight into the mentality of the hunter, exposing the potential for weakness (although ultimately knowing that anyone who judges purely by what is put out into the world is only seeing a minute portion of who that person is).

…You see my personality, not my reality of the current day.

It’s like living with me is a different day in Doctor Strange’s reality. So why am I expected to prioritize such a significant portion of my time to something as trivial as dating, as if I 1. Don’t have a plethora of candidates or options and 2. Don’t have more important things to do, and if the man who pursues me can’t understand that and do the pursuit, then he won’t value my feelings enough to have earned dating me as is.

Right now, I’m undeniably at my weakest, most unevolved form too. (I like to call it my “natural” form, for the record.) But let’s just assume I’m Eevee from Pokemon. I’m pretty basic, plain. Got multiple degrees, published research, but am worth negative amount of money and, because I’ve worked every waking moment of my life for roughly 25 years, understand that I don’t in fact, have to work this hard, and am told that I “should” want to…for others benefit… others who are rude, disrespectful, and feel “entitled” to be able to make judgments over my body, that I should give a damn about your opinion? I’ll pass.

I can take any fucking stone and evolve whatever direction I want. And I have been. Vaporean is my personal fave but Jolteon also holds a special place in my heart. Investment wise, this is the best time for men to lay claim to me and make their intentions known. Do they think I’m going to get MORE approachable with life? That life will somehow “soften me up” with time? That this sunny disposition is going to just fade away into delirious oblivion if I microdose enough shrooms? 

I make myself available, I just also think it’s way more likely that I’ll be introduced to my future spouse(s) either through chance, through a “friend of a friend”, or through a romantic comedy re-make of the ending of Sweet Home Alabama. Seriously, I’m not kidding. One of the guys I referenced in my interview with Mina, the Farmboy, KNOWS that is one of my favorite movies and purposefully quotes it, flirting with me by saying things like “whatever blows your dress up” knowing damn well the connotation of the fact that Jake’s character was fully in love with Reese Witherspoon’s. He acts like I don’t know it’s only a matter of time before he confesses that he loves me and we have to actually give it a real try. At least the sex is worth the mental gymnastics. For the record, it could be very, very simple. He’s just afraid to ask. He doesn’t deserve it until he’s able to ask, though. LOL.

Then, I have option #2: Strider. I purposefully named him Strider because he self identifies as Aragorn in real life, like has slid in my DMs when I quote Aragorn and say what a turn on it is. Which, hopelessly dooms me to think about them whenever I watch Lord of the Rings. Which is, a LOT. But then its obnoxious because he’s definitely just the stoic, quiet, lone ranger version of Aragorn over the gentlemanly warrior ready for love and to take on the world with me. I’m ready for THAT Aragorn. 

Side note, it’s completely possible that they listen, but I think it’s just as likely that they think I’m a complete lunatic and they want to live in blissful ignorance, or, they already are so consumed by the mental image of the fantasy that is “me” come to life for them, that they would never listen or try to consume even more information about me. Maybe if this somehow takes off, but, unlikely, since I do like 0% advertising or marketing, but more so because I don’t want any of you to “expect” anything of me. That’s when you start to demand things. To think you should be allotted insight to me. To be clear, that will never be the case. You earn the respect. A novel concept, I know. If I have to always be on my toes, so do you. 

It was incredibly validating, to be honest, when I took one of those extensive personality character trait ranking tests that establish what characters from pop culture you would be. My closest match was 91% Arya Stark. That moment when Arya fucks Gendry, and he asks her to be his lady, sitting at home, and she’s like “that’s not me. I’m not a lady.” Girl, I fucking feel you. But tell me why Gendry was completely fine wandering all around the Seven Kingdoms for the sake of the kingdom but wouldn’t fucking ask to join Arya on her lifetime of adventure? The rest of the list is as follows:

  1. Arya Stark (Game of Thrones) (91%)
  2. The Alien (Alien) (91%)
  3. Sherlock Holmes (90%)
  4. Ruth Langmore (Ozark) (90%)
  5. Omar Little (The Wire) 89%
  6. Maeve Millay (Westworld) 89%
  7. Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) 88%
  8. Toph Beifong (Avatar: The Last Airbender) 87%
  9. River Tam (Firefly + Serenity) 87%
  10. Janis Ian (Mean Girls) 87%
  11. Azula (Avatar: The Last Airbender) 86%
  12. Black Widow (Marvel Cinematic Universe) 86%
  13. Cristina Yang (Grey’s Anatomy) 86%
  14. Bertram Gilfoyle (Silicon Valley) 86%
  15. Jo March (Little Women) 86%
  16. Red Reznikov (Orange is the New Black) 86%
  17. Daenerys Targaryen (Game of Thrones) 85%
  18. Asha Greyjoy (Game of Thrones) 85%
  19. Alastor Moody (Harry Potter) 85%
  20. Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) 85%
  21. Alex Vause (Orange is the New Black) 85%
  22. Dagny Taggart (Atlas Shrugged) 85%
  23. Captain Marvel (Marvel Cinematic Universe) 84%
  24. Gamora (Marvel Cinematic Universe) 84%
  25. Dolores Abernathy (Westworld) 84%
  26. Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice) 83%

(In bold are the ones I actually knew).

It keeps going but I just wanted us all to take a moment to appreciate some of my favorites. My notable first reactions were: 

-Arya, not surprised. Validated. 

-Sherlock Holmes. I would fuck Robert Downey Jr. in his Sherlock Holmes costume in a heartbeat. What a hottie. 

-Maeve. Thank fuck. I’m leaning towards the logical, crazy but absolutely justified type of characters. I’m glad that comes across. 

-Toph before Azula. Not surprised in either case. But again, its reassuring that I’m *slightly* more the positive characters. Maybe there is some redeeming qualities in me after all. One of the guys I fucked from UF guessed I would’ve been Azula. He did not guess Toph.

-Black Widow. The hottest Marvel character for me. The fucked up back story. I dig it.

-Jo March. The writer clinging to her independence and following her heart instead of logic? Nooooooo.

-Daenerys. I am here for these strong female characters. Also am worried about what the commonality of men being their tragic flaw has to say.

-Elizabeth Bennet. I’m just picturing that scene in the Netflix film “After”, which, great romantic comedy ladies. Ugh. Gotta love the angsty writer types of men. 

And the men who love me, who deserve me, they don’t love me because I’m submissive. They love the fire, the wit, the passion, and the confusion that comes with it. They are entranced by the reality of who I am, in such a way that casts doubt due to the sheer quickness. The all-or-none response. The primal necessity to be with me that makes nothing else matter to them. And their own self doubt that makes them think I’m unattainable. Plus, the slight concern that I may either be a beacon of light calling them to shore or the fateful tune of a siren is probably very overwhelming. I empathize with them, I really do. At the end of the day, if they never try to kill me, I will never try to kill them. Pretty simple terms as to whether I pose a threat to their safety. I feel like that’s fairly normal and shouldn’t be weird and the fact that they are expected to earn my trust as men and physically dominant beings is really “practical” over “weird” but social optics and everything, ya know. 

So I’m going to look deep into nature, and make sense of the world around me. Really Albert Einstein it. And I’m going to gravitate towards those who make me feel most connected to that. Who embody it. Who remind me of the magical world in which we live even within the confines of our home. The people who remind me of just what we live for. What our greater purpose as humans on this planet is. 

I’ve been undeniably wrong about people’s intentions in the past. I’ve been repeatedly lied to, and the delay in me finding out the truth is usually only when I don’t care enough to notice the deviation in your pattern of behavior. I don’t care about any of that stuff anymore. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What matters most is the feeling that being in the presence of those you’re aligned with so much spiritually, in that you can undeniably entrust that inner instinct–the instinct, mind you, almost ALWAYS on high alert. That has inexplicably served you right over and over, even if it almost always caused you to look crazy first.

I don’t have the time to sit here and walk you through your life’s possibilities and what they could mean. I know nothing with any certainty, but I’m sure that’s not my job and would only make you hate me down the road. Anyone who is meant to walk my path of life with me, is meant to do so on their own free will, understanding I may very well lead them to danger, but I will never mean to. And that it will be an undeniably grand life of adventure either way, though undoubtedly unpredictable.

If we were another species, free of the notorious necessity to track our every moves, willingly, with the technology in our hands–technology which offers comfort and security, even in the most rural and obscure of places, free of the necessity, will power, and ability to analyze memory by memory, understanding the importance of perspective, of removing bias from judgment, (again, was I just born this way? My grand magistrate judge of ancestors and owners of the Cedar County Republican Stockton Missouri newspaper would be so proud), then maybe I wouldn’t be looked at so mystically. And I could retreat into my lair of anonymity to plot my next move without it seeming like a weakness. I could also switch directions seamlessly without being judged…

It’s only a weakness because you’ve tied my purpose in life, as a woman, to the presence of another, or the recognition of another’s validation.

That is where we differ.

Your perspective of what you think I should take initiative on is flawed. It’s built around your insecurities and what you admire in my ferocity. What opportunities you do not have. It’s not built around a carefully cultivated set of skills and ability to captivate with ease, and the wit to match and dance mentally with others. I’m not meant to confine it, or to be controlled or answer to the whims of society just because I seek out others with as intriguing of minds.

For the first time in my life, I have the opportunity to be selfish. To not answer to other people. To be allowed to make my own decisions. You are feeble creatures if you think I’m going to compromise that when you refuse to dive in and be able to communicate your feelings. You can also be okay with not actually sharing me physically as long as you put no barriers on sharing my mentality. (Aka: you’ll never be able to censor what I cover. The ultimate trust fall.) My partner needs to be ready for that, and they can come find me once they are while I continue to perfect it. 

I put enough of my personality out there that its like a bee spreading pollen all over the place. If you think it’s intense to experience it secondhand, think of what I feel like with the energy of that stupid bunny that never stops and the intellect of decades of engineers and strategical minds. I started watching “The Queen’s Gambit” and felt a bit attacked when they said “creativity and psychosis often go hand-in-hand. Or, for that matter, genius and madness.” because having to answer to the expectations of others after the reality of the world hits you and particularly the reality of what people have power, and value, in this country, that rogue lifestyle looks more and more attractive. I no longer wish to play games that do not interest me. And men, in particular, have disappointed me in such drastic proportions that you can NOT expect me to prioritize them as worthy prey any longer? The very thought is hilarious, honestly. Let me just take some time solo and work on myself, okay. Spare me your judgment.

I once broke up with a boyfriend the night before his sister’s wedding, after spending the entire rehearsal dinner meeting his extended family, because he lied to my face about a girl who texted him to meet up at 1 am. Dude, I could see the name. It was very clearly not your friend, Matt. I was, right, by the way–they had been a lot more than “friends” lately. But nobody had to rap about it for me to know “it ain’t nothin to cut that bitch off”, because I drove myself back to Chapel Hill, hit up my good ole on-and-off boo of like 4 years at that point, fucked him the entire night guilt free, and never spoke to that ex boyfriend again. Life is too short to worry about men who can’t be honest. It’s also too short to worry about men who are obsessed with their own cocks so they’re at least decent at using them, but then spend the time in bed only staring at themselves, instead of studying you. It bores me. Growing up is realizing you side with all of the Disney villains. When that bitchy lion was like “I’m surrounded by idiots!” Girl. I get it now. Took me a while, but, I see it. 

And being so intelligent that you dissect reality and analyze the bounds of what you know is exactly why you are so drawn to men. They are curious creatures. And cats do like to torture their prey before they kill it, so watching them squirm has its advantages. Learning the way their dicks work like the manual shift on a car, switching gears with minor maneuvers. Its an art. Men can appreciate the mastery of piloting of the Millenium Falcon by Han Solo so why can they not realize I shouldn’t need an amorphous form to soften the weight of my words. I am simply providing you with feedback and anecdotal evidence of things you should maybe know for the future. It’s basically community service.

Unlike most people, I don’t need the reality of the world sugar coated prior to being forced to deepthroat and swallow it.

I don’t need to “seek out” men, nor do I plan to “answer” to one.

That doesn’t mean I can’t submit. 

And I don’t need to cater to the natural sexuality you’ve placed on my persona, only to now be intimidated by it because I know what it looks like, illuminated in a haze of smoke and purple light, posed atop 6” stilettos, a mini dress barely covering my ass, with strippers freeing my nipples from the confines of my dress as they lick my skin and give me a lap dance. I just wanted to make it rain and wave over which one I thought was the hottest. I was just happy to be here. Ya’ll were supposed to be the ones stripping. I was not getting paid for this. 

My future husband gets the biggest freak, willing to fulfill or at least entertain almost all of his fantasies. Which, interestingly enough, I learned that sex toys are often geared towards different species or creatures because it’s easier for partners to use them in the bedroom without getting intimidated. Do we really think I’m supposed to sit around pining for his lack of presence? No. If anything, I’m pining for the lack of actual dick because sex toys, while great, don’t replace the mind games for me. Like I said, my dependency on man is rather frustrating. I’m just gonna work on my hobbies and if the now-doctor who used to cook his own DMT in his bedroom before he fucked me wants to come back around for another round and show me how he’s grown as a person, I’ll listen to persuasion. Sue me for enjoying the one physical thing I lack that you can offer me. This is your innate advantage, you should take pride in that. 

And yes, I understand the irony of coming and talking about this, or taking the time to write it. I get it that it “defeats the purpose” of me not sitting around and thinking about dick. Let’s make a clear distinction–me fantasizing about what I want one to do to me is not me being dependent on one. If anything, particularly in a male dominated world where my livelihood and greatest means of financial success involve catering towards the male gaze, and shattering your expectations, it bodes well for me to imagine how you think, and know and enjoy catering towards that.

But the USA in particular has always loved caging exotic animals. Ripping them from their natural habitats, forcing them to pace back and forth within the confines of their cage, deluding them into thinking they should somehow be GRATEFUL for the life you “grant” them. Why would we expect society to treat women any differently.

So, if I have to address it, so that I won’t have to repeat myself for the next ten guys who disappoint me from Bumble get to try so hard to convince me of just how different they are, when really, they’re just trying to convince themselves, or for the random guys on the internet who are into being emasculated a little bit, so they listen to this, like I said, it’s a public service announcement. You’re welcome. I’m not going to stroke your egoes for doing the bare minimum. Greatest Showman the fuck out of life. That’s probably a bad analogy because I haven’t actually watched it. I’ve watched enough romantic comedies, though, and LOVE enough romantic comedies to know that, as a woman, I am likely condemned to love a man who doesn’t deserve it, but will bring me inexplicable and idiotic joy. Kinda like how my dog loves me and gets unreasonably happy when I come home, even if I could’ve come home a few hours earlier but chose not to. It brings me disdain with every passing day that I know one day I’ll enjoy that fate. So please, just let me enjoy singlehood, guilt free, while I still can and let me take enjoyment in one of the last things I have left in this world while capitalism and impending warfare threatens my habitat, dulls the senses of the men, takes them off the menu with supply and demand, and expects me to play it safe despite having been raised to follow the call of the wild. 

So dating, in the 21st century, when you have to surmise yourself to a handful of incredibly basic questions and photos of how to best “sell” yourself, doesn’t really “work” for me. I’ve long said that I can not WAIT for my shining moment to be as somebody’s ideal second wife. All of you men can go get married in your 20’s, not knowing who you are, but desperately wanting it to be this suburban version of yourself that you’ve been told your whole life represents “happiness” and “comfort”, just to realize 5 years into the marriage and 3 kids later that you hadn’t actually known who you were, or if you did, were too afraid of what it might reveal to question it, so then you run away, or just buy a shiny new convertible well past when it’s acceptable to, but when it’s the first time in your life you’ve been able to afford it, and come to realize that I was, in fact, right all along.

Please stop pushing the conservative agenda on me being a baby making factory who sits at home like a good housewife (no shame to those who do it, I’ll just never be a typical “mom” should I be blessed with that… gift.) It’ll be like the Maleficent movies. If you wonder why its frustrating, just know that my mom was working on her third kid by my age. In fact, today whilst talking about life’s uncertainties, her suggested solution was for me to have children. With who?

Can’t ya’ll just be happy that I at least preliminarily cured like one strain of prostate cancer and can that be my contribution to society? Why does whether I bring a date to a wedding or how much debt I have at my ten year high school reunion even matter? Just let me exist, weirdly, uninterrupted, and free. 

We, as humans, and as Americans, should just take note of the levels of sexual repression. We should not settle for this bleak hook up culture of depravity and just accept the quick, easy fucks. That shouldn’t even interest us. What happened to winning? That is the participation trophy culture of fucking. Even though I can’t say I’m surprised because Americans in particular are predisposed to looking for the “easy” solution over the long term investment.

I may settle for Biden, but I will never settle for a man.

What’s a queen without a king? Historically speaking, more powerful.

ENTJ Women Unhinged

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
ENTJ Women Unhinged
Loading
/

Zeda and her best friend, Mina, two ENTJ women, sit down and hash out an introduction into what it means to be an ENTJ, the strengths & weaknesses, and romantic relationships. This is the first part of a series of interview diving into anecdotal commentary of what reading through the ENTJ explanation on http://www.16personalities.com is.

 

Good luck to all of you poor unfortunate souls who listen.

 

We are the sirens calling you to shore.

“Homie, I’m Professional”

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
"Homie, I'm Professional"
Loading
/

-LIL DICKY

You wanna know why I really started this blog?

When I recognized that you could be one of the best doctors in the United States and the uneducated, selfish opinion of a spray-tanned narcissist would render all of that education, power, and years of cultivated intellect useless. 

So what are we talking about today?

Professionalism in the workforce.

Or, how I like to call it, the differences in societal expectations for a female’s private life compared to that of her male coworkers.

Fuck it, let’s jump in.

Please don’t start talking about the patriarchy…

Oh, but guess what… I am. 

Acknowledging the undertones of our own patriarchal society means acknowledging the traditional gender roles that are almost universally similar all over the world at varying stages throughout history: from hunter-gatherer societies to modern day civilization, men worked the manual labor, having stronger physical builds, more calloused hands, and really embracing that burly warrior “save me kind stranger” mentality that I am still (annoyingly) attracted to (& why one of my recent Bumble matches extended that to my being attracted to army / marine branches, but not navy or airforce…woops…guilty as charged), whereas women were the child care providers, the “gatherers”, more passive, and ultimately, weak

As an aside, we all KNOW men were the little bitch babies who rebranded women as “weak” even though a significantly high proportion of women wake up in a pool of their own blood several days of the month, are capable of growing an entire human being inside of them, and then EITHER PUSH SAID BABY OUT THROUGH A HOLE IN BETWEEN THEIR LEGS OR GET IT SAWED OUT OF THEM, MOVING SKIN, INTESTINES, MUSCLES TO THE SIDE, AND THEN REPOSITIONING IT ALL BACK INTO PLACE AND STITCHING THEM BACK UP LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED.

Anyways, with the industrial revolution and moving away from agricultural roles, more and more men entered the workforce in factories or office jobs and women still stayed at home with the kids. Coupled with years of war after war (because a bunch of men across a variety of countries, who had thousands of acres yet demanded more power and sailed across oceans because men are ultimately selfish fucks and think they MUST “know all” and enact a “best” way of life over people instead of just minding their own fucking business) and Rosie the Riveter propaganda, women diverged from their traditional gender roles, traded their corsets and hoop skirts for pants, and realized they did not in fact need to solely rely on someone else for their health and livelihood.

Now, I will acknowledge, that there is some comfort in the fact that I could probably exist solely on my looks, willingly permitting myself to be a baby machine and collecting enough child support to fund my preferred lifestyle for at least 18 years. My dream, however, is for someone to just pay me to exist with no sexual or birth obligations, ya know, like the lifestyle of a wealthy heiress. Unfortunately, I was born a peasant (read: civilian army brat). But, who knows…maybe, when I’m inevitably still single several years from now, working on yet another degree or creative venture, I’ll back track on that and be begging one of the guys I’ve ignored for years to go back to his simp lifestyle and wife me up. However, that’s unlikely, because if there’s one thing I am above all, it’s stubborn.

I’d rather die of loneliness than admit my need for a man.

Do you know how infuriating it is to enjoy and crave the security walking in a male’s presence offers me as a fiercely independent woman? Ugh. gross. 

Yet, as more and more women entered the workforce, diverging from the “1950’s gender norms and nuclear family” model (heterosexual parents of opposite genders with 3 children where the male was the sole financial provider, spending minimum of ⅓ of his life away from his wife and kids and the female was a housewife who did more than a full-time job taking care of the children for no pay other than her husband’s meager factory earnings), we continue(d) to undervalue positions held by women, while placing excessive earning potential in administrative positions largely held by men, continuing to perpetuate women needing to meet the standards of male superiors across almost every field at nearly every moment in their careers. Unless you were a small business owner, or inherited a sum and could fund whatever projects you wanted, you likely would not have made enough money, regardless of what advanced degree or career field you achieved, to comfortably support yourself and propel yourself out of whatever modern day American caste system you were born into. 

Even now, I hold multiple careers: I’m a middle school teacher at a school in a predominantly low-income area, I work as a contract epidemiologist on SARS-CoV-2 (which, is universally no longer a hoax thanks to the negligence of the Republican lawmakers in Washington, D.C.), I have my own small Etsy business with my art. Yet, my male “Best friend” had the audacity to tell me he didn’t want to read my blog “because he would rather read something like that from someone who is ACTUALLY accomplished.” (Literally the biggest eye roll of my life.)

SIR. I developed an advanced stage prostate cancer inhibitor step-by-step from visualizing and recreating the active site to chemical synthesis to spectroscopically confirming it was the right chemical to then testing it in vivo for efficacy BY AGE 22. AND WAS PUBLISHED IN A HUGE NATIONAL SCIENTIFIC JOURNAL. So, excuse me, if I think that your opinion on what it means to be “accomplished”, just because you inherited a few family businesses in the hospitality industry and make over 5 times the money I do, is shit.

All you’ve accomplished is your Ocala Trump rally became a super spreader of coronavirus. Great fucking legacy. Go fuck yourself.

That’s what happens when you devalue the work that actually matters and keeps society running, yet allow men to desperately think they shouldn’t pay taxes on their 87 hotels that are purely for luxury travel. Build some parks, beautify the community, make things accessible, and reinvest in the people and places that allow you to not care about the difficult stuff as much. Because your little facade that let’s you ignore the realities of the world are because of THOSE people who are the ones that make your grandiose Gatsby-lie is cliché. You don’t need 30 fucking cars while people are committing suicide over the bleakness of the poverty they’re born into. 

The disappointing part is this isn’t just a regular occurrence with my male friends, who pretend to be conscientiously aware, yet still won’t call out hypocrisy when it’s in the form of their childhood best friend, spouting off racist, sexist, or homophobic remarks directly across the table from them, but it’s ALSO universally occurred at every workplace. Just this summer, whilst working on coronavirus deployed to a south Florida county health department, my supervisor sent out a site-wide email detailing the dress code, specifically “no skirt shorter than fingertip length”. Yet, the very next day, after confirming my skirt was in fact, several inches below fingertip length, it “was still too short” and she demanded I go home and change or be fired (which, she had no firing or hiring potential over me, for the record). At one point during the conversation she even confirmed it was well within her clearly dictated dress code policy (from her snotty email the day before), but that my legs, which were underneath my desk, which I sat at for almost every hour of the day other than lunch, were still “too distracting”. I don’t know what kind of perverted lesbian you are ma’am, but you’re making the rest of us queer folk look pretty fucking done with your bullshit subjective sexuality on our bodies. As a white, blonde woman, I pass for incredibly heteronormative, too, so I find it a personal obligation to stick up for the small instances when injustice occurs within my presence, whether or not it involves me, because that’s nothing to what people must do when they don’t perceive anyone noteworthy to be a corroborating witness. I believe the phrase was

“you are personally responsible for becoming more ethical than the society you were born into” and I believe that to be firm and true. 

But some of the worst criticism of women comes from other women–so how can we possibly dismantle a system that has somehow pitted conservative women who prefer the comfort of traditional gender roles against the free-spirited wanderlust hippies who just want love in whatever form it takes possible? Especially when the end goal for both is just valuing deep, meaningful, authentic love, it just takes a slightly different form? How do we convince those who don’t want to listen that we all want peace, security, comfort, and love, but the way to do that is not by refusing to acknowledge other mindsets, withholding public support and assistance, and encouraging a safer world for all? And the world as a whole is angry. So we’re right to be fearful. Within our own country, we are edging towards a modern day civil war, all because our piece of shit tangerine who holds the White House hostage called for a “Stand down and stand by” order for the Proud boys aka the Ku Klux Klan aka literal nazi’s in the United States. DID NONE OF YOU FUCKING GO TO THE HOLOCAUST MUSEUM AS CHILDREN? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YA’LL WHO CONTINUE TO LOOK ASIDE AT THIS BEHAVIOR?

I won’t get into it within the context of this discussion, but you can find the direct comparison of Trump and Hitler HERE.

The important context of bringing that up is somehow it made more sense to have yet another shitty white male president instead of a false feminist icon just because the “its her time” mentality was a shit platform for a woman to represent a feminist icon to all the youth of tomorrow. Every former Trump supporter I know, and there are MANY, because I grew up incredibly conservatively, went to undergrad in the state of North Carolina, and went to graduate school in the state of Florida, would STILL have made that same exact choice. The stakes for the first female president were high, sure, but they weren’t unrealistic. Inability to meet these standards isn’t because these women don’t exist, it’s because we’ve sequestered power in such a way that women have been historically dependent on men for generations

We’ve allowed men to remain dominant across every society for so long, because of their sheer physical dominance. So our government has become overtaken with a bunch of ex-military men who could just as easily be shitty football coaches but instead go into politics who condemn themselves to cycles of violence because they never learn the value of a life whilst guiding drones from a distance and we encourage people to never step foot outside of their own little bubble, so the WMAL radio show that my stepdad plays every day, an INCREDIBLY right-wing news station, literally has an anchor calling for preservation of Texas as a red state.

Why do you WANT to be drawn to violence?

How could we ever be encouraging a less violent, better world for our children if we’re refusing to help those who show up on our doorstep?

You all are acting like the people who turned Mary and Joseph away. Might I remind you that the majority of you worship a book about a man of color who is murdered by keepers of the law. 

Yet, women have emotional intellect. Women are devious, breath-takingly alluring, cynical. Women haven’t been encouraged to hide their emotions so they parade them freely. Those who do it without giving a damn on the reception of others, become deadly. I would know, because I’m one of them. If you ever were lucky enough to see it in action, you’d understand the alarming nature of this blog is perfectly packaged into an innocent looking actress who can flip tactics at the drop of a hat. Only I’m not playing someone else’s role. Growing up in an abusive household–physically, mentally, emotionally, will do that to a girl. I’ve just chosen to use it for the “Greater good”, instead of the Kyle Rittenhouse version of a misplaced vigilantism that is really just lunacy. Believe me, I’ve contemplated long and hard about what people I would have enjoyed killing. My high school boyfriend beat the shit out of me for four years, I’ve stared down the barrel of a gun, I’ve beaten the shit out of someone who sexually assaulted me, the thoughts entered in fleeting passes while I stoically faced all of these, and many other, difficult circumstances. I think, even for sane people, or at least the majority of men, if you had been in that position, your fight-or-flight would’ve been activated and you would’ve put your own survival over your abuser any day. I’m resilient. A survivor. So if you want me to let the law hold them accountable, stop undermining my faith in its uses. 

If I were a man, my confidence that inevitably teems with sexual undertones due to the physical attractiveness of my outward physical form would be APPLAUDED. My acknowledgment of reality and the need for pragmatic decisiveness would be paraded on a Joe Rogan podcast much like Elon Musk. Nobody would make the “humble too” comments when I specify not feeling the draw to be tied down, because my value wouldn’t be tied to another person acknowledging it’s worth and placing it above their own, and I wouldn’t be assumed to place a greater value in someone else’s career and educational development over my own. 

So in 2020, what is the point of me “shutting up” and “getting used to it” when my aunt had to deal with the same criticism, commentary, and hurtful insinuations over fifty years ago just because it’s the “cultural norm”. Why the fuck do we think that is just acceptable, inevitable? Safer for women? And now that we KNOW better, when we can document account after account to prove this is a HUGE issue across multiple cultures, why the fuck aren’t we refusing to let each and every single one of the 50 states progress at their own pace of dismantling racism until history is in fact doomed to repeat itself because Captain America: Civil War is about to be released and suddenly tubby middle-aged white men are going to act like him taking a “liberal” stance (condemning racism) means they should boycott Marvel or whatever fucking universe he’s from because apparently human decency is a fucking political issue still. How about you channel that rage towards your other white men who are the reason we have to have this conversation over and over and over again? Okay, buddy?

People suck in every color, don’t think whites are so superior. 

When I make any decision in my personal life: sexually, related to social media or how I communicate with my friends, what clothing I choose to buy or be seen in in public, it can never be made without considering what those decisions might prevent me from doing within my career. But why is that so? We have a president who has undeniably sexually assaulted hordes of women, is implicated in a pedophilic sex trafficking ring with two other disgraced former best friends, and yet, even with that, this man was elected as president of the united states. Supposedly the most coveted position in the world. And I still didn’t want the first female president, a symbol for future generations of women to come, to be one who lacked transparency, who stood by her husband and political marriage without acknowledging it, who publicly condemned her husband’s mistress, a young girl who spent time with a very powerful man–a man of whom was supposed to be the bigger person, the authority, of literally every person in the United States. Fucking pathetic excuse of a nation we live in. THOSE were our choices?

And how do we go about enacting change if those of us who have access to higher education, even those like me who take out thousands of dollars of loans because what knowledge gives me will never not be worth it, get drawn into the bubbles of glitter and distracted by our years in debt until we look around and realize the smooth-talking con men of the world have usurped logic and condemned those in the public eye such that no sane person would ever willingly enter it. Your life inevitably going to be picked apart with such vulgarity that Joe Rogan’s Spy-Kids Floop Fooglie’s thumb-men looking ass can somehow roast you for your physical appeal as if there was any world where his opinion was somehow more valid when you were just trying to make the world a better fucking place. 

Maybe its because of the optics. Scientists were historically meager, weak, depressive folks. Our increased intellect meant we questioned the world with such intensity that we realized the bleakness in how far society has skewed humans from our innate purpose on this world–of actually enjoying and learning to appreciate the natural world around us, instead of always desperately building wall after wall because we’re scared of what’s outside. Did we ever think that Albert Einstein maybe looked around, saw the state of the world, and was like “we need to do something about this.” Why do we always reference his depression in studies about his life but not about how depression is inevitable in a society that puts money and individual prowess over enabling safe, loving human interaction? Of welcoming your neighbors? On teaching values of peace without tying it to one particular religion because there’s no “one” right way of life and if we don’t know that by now, then I really don’t think you should be able to vote in a cultural melting pot of a country. 

Or, maybe, it’s because when scientists have spoken out, they die. You can’t tell me those Russian doctors just fell out of those windows on their own. Or that Edward Snowden wasn’t arguably justified in warning the American people, even when, in my opinion, it’s hugely naive to assume every moment of your life ISN’T being watched, unless you live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. To be honest, having a trail for people gives me, as a single woman, a sense of peace. It’s accountability. And as a woman, 1 in 5 of whom will be raped or attempted to be raped in their lifetime in the United State. Although for every 1000 sexual assaults, only 230 are reported, and 995 of those 1000 perpetrators will walk free. So I like knowing that there may now be some greater chance to hold those people accountable. But scientists are also usually quieter, nerdier, we were bullied when we were younger. I’m currently facing the knowledge that if Trump really does enact his authoritarian rule over the United States and refuse to leave office, come November, with some false claim about the corruptness of the mail-in ballot system, even though he had nothing to say about it when the same system benefitted him in 2016, I might need to escape to Switzerland and hide out for the content on this blog, because it may become “illegal” and I’ll be back in the Salem Witch Trials hysteria I thought we had finally moved past as a society. If you think I’m being unnecessarily dramatic, I would like you to open your fucking eyes to the reality that our federal government is currently preparing for the scenario in which he refuses to leave office and tries to enact martial law with a militarized police and Proud Boys army. 

And there’s truth in Michelle Obama’s infamous “when they go low, we go high” mentality, but it’s also as equally important to draw the line and know when to say “Step the fuck back, what I’m doing with my life does not involve you at all so take your god damn opinion and shove it up your ass.” If white men are wondering why people are still so irritated when everyone has the right to vote now, please look at Congress, to this day, and let me know how a majority of white men are SURE that they are the reckoning force to bring values of diversity, representation, and dismantling oppression into this world when really they’re just telling us they’re still comfortable assigning themselves as the gatekeepers of determining what topics have validity or not… even when they have no actual experience in the fields. 

We’ve also undeniably had an overwhelming presence of military leaders within every level of our government, largely due to name recognition and the power of symbolic imagery, so it’s going to take more than one black, male president to change the cultural ideology, especially when every new colored, queer, or gendered individual is going to be the first _______ whatever position still for decades to come depending on which state they choose to live in, inevitably overcoming the same obstacles time and time again all because we think leaving it up to “state’s rights” means parts of Alabama still exist in the good ole 1950’s, even though we should probably be sterilizing people that contribute to placing less value on knowledge (in whatever form), think LESS government will solve the whole “crime” issue, or just have an IQ below a certain point. I’d rather sterilize them, at least temporarily until they can be educated, than the immigrant women who seek out a better life, only for the “pro-life” (read: really just anti-abortion) crowd to refuse to acknowledge their existence because they want to universally assign a devalued human belief onto an entire cultural group with no knowledge of them as an individual all because they (falsely) believe immigrants don’t pay taxes, despite the fact that undocumented immigrants paid tens of millions of dollars more in taxes to a system whose healthcare they can’t access validly, a system they can’t vote in, yet one whose president, worth billions of dollars, pays less than a middle school teacher with two degrees working in a low income community. I believe it was Miss Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez who tweeted, “Just to be clear. There is nothing “pro life” about denying people comprehensive sexual education, making birth control harder to access, forcing others to give birth against their will, and stripping them of healthcare and food assistance afterwards.”

It’s sickening, the hypocrisy.

And the patriarchy IS because of the military, but I find it impossible to believe that your prejudice towards military strength is so usurped by your views that you truly believe a man who created an environment where half of our country, particularly the die-hard, supposedly pro-military regions of Texas and Florida, will question utilizing masks and doubting science, in an age of global warfare of biochemical weaponizing, is a good man. If that’s the truth, then you are an absolute idiot. I have no sympathy in saying that because your judgment is clearly clouded. Maybe all of you constitutionalists were right and only 6% of the population SHOULD have the ability to vote. Plot twist–it shouldn’t be you uneducated cucks. We sealed our fate the day we tied property ownership to voting potential–securing power in the hands of those who take more than their “fair” share in a system undeniably rigged to benefit them. You should hold yourself to a higher standard than that as a human being. If your religion hasn’t taught you to place value outside of monetary gain, then this is the entire problem with organized religion.

And in addition to sequestering power in the hands of (historically) white men of various European descent, those same men now have this delusional sense of importance because they have tangible, real idols in every position and industry that are taught to them from such a young age that nothing seems impossible, except, in the modern world, maybe finding a girl who doesn’t still enjoy shaking her ass to funny lyrics on Tik Tok. Men–we all know you’re just jealous that you feel so restrained your theatre-geek-loving-self is hidden under more layers than Shrek. Get with the times, gents.

It’s that same elevated importance in men too that let’s them just “decide” not to be aware about the realities of the world. They cram a year of emotions into the weeks of their NFL fantasy football leagues–as sports has historically been one of the only ways men have been allowed, by society, in the United States, to actually CARE about something. They can get emotional, but only in reference to competition. But life is a game, baby, and we’re all just here to win. Even Albert Einstein is quoted as saying “you have to learn the rules of the game, and then play it better than everybody else.” But men with small minds, like said aforementioned Joe Rogan, Donald Trump and pretty much any white male still endorsing him, only see a limited sense of competition. They lack that emotional edge that encompasses the nature of unconventional warfare women are so talented at. Whether it’s been repressed for years because they’ve been taught that was the only way to achieve success or they’re just upset that the hot girl from their high school wouldn’t fuck the pompous pig they’ve always been, even back in the day, that lack of connection to empathy will always render them weaker. You see, for those of us who have had to learn to compartmentalize emotions–as I said, it’s a dog eat dog world out there and I’m always going to survive–any man who overcompensates his financial success with material goods and nothing else substantial is always going to come in second. Or, as I like to call it, be the first loser. Mainly because they don’t actually understand true happiness. Their version of winning, like everything else in their life, is a facade. They slap a price tag to success, or a position title, even the most coveted one in the world, now so pathetically devalued that it will never hold the same weight it once did, and cry out desperately for outward validation because they’re unable to provide that inner sense of validation to themselves, and they always will be unable to do so.

Within that same group of men is a special place in hell set aside for the men in STEM fields. Men who have been so pathetically focused in their careers, a great, noble goal (but again, it’s JUST as necessary to learn how to communicate your goals to the general public for it to be relevant, and teachable) that they have to be sat down like children and you feel like a fucking parental figure of a man several years older than you who refuses to set aside the time to expand his own cultural awareness. No, instead, he begs for YOU to set aside the time, time and time again, to be the one responsible for educating him, even though the information is freely fucking available on the internet, but you just don’t see it as a beneficial use of your time unless you can also potentially fuck the source of it one day. Cry me a river. As I said, I’m not mad, I’m just way less interested. I have been, since, even several months into getting to know me, you revealed you were STILL contemplating whether to vote independent or not. What the fuck, dude. 

Or the likes of those researchers, Scott Hardouin, MD and Thomas Cheng, MS, amongst others, who published in the August 2020 Journal of Vascular Surgery issue addressing the “Prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons”. Which, hear this, went into a lovely, completely fucked up detail in which, a man, went through the social media of male and female surgical trainee, unethically, as he did not have the permission to use the Association of Program Directors in Vascular Surgery database for his “research”. (Which, if you ask me, honestly just sounds like a bunch of hot female surgical trainees wouldn’t fuck him, so he wanted to Mark Zuckerberg his way into the medical field by creating a way to effectively rank them that would negatively hurt their careers or personal sense of worth.) So these MALE students, supervised by MALE leadership, subjectively ranked social media posts of women wearing bikinis, OFF-HOURS, as “POTENTIALLY UNPROFESSIONAL” compared to men on social media. Note: male bathing suits were not “unprofessional”. Even if you wanted to potentially label a male bathing suit like a speedo as “unprofessional”, they WOULDN’T, because that could constitute discrimination towards the LGBTQ community. And medicine is the forefront of this discussion because we, as scientists, as cultivators of the human body, of artists of humanity, should be the most progressive of all, especially of the subjectivity of social constructs related to gender and social norms. Not to mention that women comprise only 10% of active vascular surgery members, so the barriers they certainly already face in a male-dominated field definitely don’t need to be raised. 

WE AS A SOCIETY PROBABLY NEED TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FUCKING FACT THAT PEOPLE SHOULD NOT ALWAYS “BE” PROFESSIONAL. AND YES, I CAN SAY THAT, BECAUSE OF THE VERY MAN SEATED IN THE FUCKING WHITE HOUSE. Seriously. No matter what your job is, you should be able to move through your private life, if you’re not hurting anybody else (which is why all you dumb fuck anti-maskers don’t get to just have your fucking “freedom”) with honesty and not be constantly terrified of the retributions. If the medical community is so progressive that a huge public university’s medical school can shelter a self-proclaimed potential pedophile who was investigated by the SBS and had his parents destroy all records of the child pornography he did in fact access, then we can be progressive enough to stop fucking stigmatizing women. Especially in relation to the blatant sexualizing of the female body through toxic patriarchal and heavily Christian overlapping themes, as medical professionals, you should acknowledge that your “danger zones” or “private parts” are literally just another body part and maybe we should be able to colloquially discuss aspects of health without stigma, and by shaming almost exclusively the female human body, we’ve condemned the women in our society to cycles of violence that are running rampant and unobstructed, led by the man currently housed at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Get your shit together, men. Because I’m fucking sick of it.

Wanna know just a few other bullshit things I’ve had to deal with as a woman in STEM, before you go overreacting or claim that I’m “unfounded”. Ask every single fucking woman for examples of things that they have to do differently in order to not either put themselves at risk in a male-led world or to allow themselves the ability to continue on the clearest, easiest path without adding additional obstacles into their own path–I guarantee you, the list will continue growing.

To date, I have:

-Had a man come up to me and my blonde fellow scientist and grad school BFF at a professional, international conference, and tell us, (making the assumption that we did not already know), that “people will see your beauty and assume you are not smart. You will have to work twice as hard.” We know. This conversation is proof of that. I watched Legally Blonde when I was like, 9, dude.

-Have had my fellow coworkers, one of whom I got the job, team up and basically decide they no longer wanted to be my friend or communicate with me at work, and one even had her boyfriend, who I’ve been friends with for over 8 years, block me on social media because she was so insecure in my friendship with him, while I still worked with them both. He’s literally the only person I can nerd out about pharmaceutical and biochemistry stuff, you stupid bitch. I hope you don’t spend the rest of your life that catty.

-The aforementioned skirt incident

-Been told that I’m “difficult” or a “bitch” more times than I could count–professional and private life alike, even when I was in the right, even related to my studies. Shout out to Tina Fey, because bitches really DO get stuff done, and men still love them. I’m not settling, baby. Get on my level or get your ass back to the dugout. You’ll be back up to bat eventually. Know your place on the roster.

-Have essentially been disowned by my family all because I lived in Florida and posted pictures of my absolutely phenomenal ass because, 1. I can and 2. That’s me, and 3. I’m the one who has to answer for my actions, not you, so once again, shut the fuck up. I went to Europe 3 years in a row. I study the human body. I question the bounds of reality. It’s gonna get a lot fucking weirder throughout my life, you can’t stop it if you tried. So stop trying.

-Have to wear glasses (they’re blue light and do nothing other than prevent me from getting a headache), yet am instantly questioned less and have to defend myself on far fewer occasions than when I don’t.

-If I walk into a room of patients with a male, particularly one who is physically taller than me, HE is assumed to be the superior. They will still ask him for his opinion, even after acknowledging my role as the superior, even though, when the roles are reversed, they NEVER ask for my second opinion.

-People are more likely to ask for a second opinion in general, or have to search or “look further into” my knowledge before they determine that I was, in fact, correct. I speak with conviction and authority purposefully, and yet it still happens. My own mother is guilty of this. 

-A male with the aspirations I have would be met with a constructive tone of acceptance when he explains his life goals. The possibility of a family is never mentioned–he’ll have time for both whenever he decides to settle down. Instead, I get the laughing disbelief and “you’re really something, aren’t you”. Oh, I for sure fucking am, or at least will be. I will achieve every single one of my dreams, and thanks to Claire (my wonderful therapist), I won’t even COMPLETELY discount a family, because there is absolutely no reason why I SHOULDN’T achieve everything I want in life. 

-Nearly every single one of the men I’ve dated in my private life have LOVED that ambitious drive. It attracted every fiber of their being to me. It was a magnetic pull, entrancing, the song of a siren, calling them to their impending doom upon the shores. It’s also the reason every single one of them succumbed to weakness, straying from our relationship with dishonesty and lying of various forms, so pathetic and scared of their own weaknesses that they then used the very reasons they fell in love with me so quickly to also be the reason they leave down the road. And I’m supposed to feel bad for them? No.

I’d much rather be single than undervalued.
Fuck that. 

Like I said, I’ll just keep getting degrees. Asserting my dominance in the most tangible way for females to do so. Because I am questioned, I do need the letters behind my name to command the same, or at least near the level of respect my male counterparts are immediately granted just by their very existence. And because their voices carry more weight, I unfortunately also need them to open their ears and listen to what I’m telling you. And then to SPEAK about it, and be an advocate, to their male counterparts who discount the validity in my assertions. Who actually need to hear it from them because, even if they don’t completely change their mind, acknowledging that behavior isn’t appropriate or DOES exist, STILL, can at least make them that much more likely to identify it if and when they witness it for themselves. It’ll make them stop and think, whether they outwardly admit it to you or not. And eventually they can no longer continue to deny it without looking like an ignorant asshole. 

Luckily, my ass is nice enough that many (white) men do follow me and will actually still take the time to look into it, out of nothing more than curiosity, so it helps me blend into the audience I need to appeal to. The audience that needs to start educating themselves so it can no longer be my responsibility to condemn myself to the task. Thank you Old Row for posting that picture of me on the pizza floatie. I gained like a thousand followers in a few hours, though with starting over anonymously under a pseudonym, I’m no longer reaping the benefits of men sliding into my DMs as frequently, just to pay me for something harmless like pictures of my feet, or me belittling the size of their dick mercilessly. Seriously, y’all are some repressed mother fuckers. 

I’m happy to make the money off of it, but since so many of you do it, the fact that I do make money off of it shouldn’t need to be some mystifying taboo secret. We live in a capitalist society with terrible redistribution of wealth. The median household income in 2018 was $74,600. Which means that, if you lined up every US household’s yearly salary, from least to greatest, and took the middle number, it would be $74,600. Half of all of our households make less than that. The top 1% of families in our country hold 40% of the wealth. The bottom 90% hold LESS THAN 25%. We are in a global pandemic and the wealth of our handful of billionaires increased by trillions of dollars yet most individuals received only one $1200 stimulus check, and that’s only IF they filed their taxes last year. We instead prioritized corporations and businesses over the individual fucking people? What the fuck is wrong with our government. Get that money, sis. They won’t respect you either way, so you might as well cause a fuss while you do it. 

And I played fucking football in highschool so I think I can make that statement. 

Clearly, tying every aspect of ourselves as humans under some guise of “professionalism” doesn’t impact men in the same way that it impacts women. When is the last time someone would see a male in a bathing suit and determine they “weren’t going to use them as a surgeon” based on how their body looked. If anything, the worse it looks, the better. They probably spend all of their time in the hospital anyways. For women, you have to tread this delicate line of being pretty, but not too pretty. You have to be sexually appealing, but your boobs can’t be too large, or they dominate the frame of your face. You can’t look too nice, either, there has to be an edge of mystery. I get assumed to be “slutty” for wearing a bikini in Florida (which was cheeky, yes, but much less risque than the actual G strings of the strippers in the cabana next to me) when you check my instagram, even though I haven’t had sex in 2 years and am a serial committed relationship person in general. (Mostly because the men fall quickly and they fall hard. Like I said, they’re depraved of such intimate connection that the second they see they won’t be judged for it, they’re captivated by the allure, only to recognize the course of their path and draw screeching breaks like the train in Snowpiercer at the realization their independence may be threatened. It won’t. Because mine also won’t be. But this is besides the point). 

And I don’t feel the need to leave that stuff on “private”, because part of my entire purpose in life, and part of public health, is reducing the stigma around things that cause inherent struggles and cognitive dissonance within society. It would be limiting my potential to withhold it, more afraid of the acceptance and how it is perceived than having to compromise my own values. I would rather use myself as an example over and over again than ignore the realities of the world out of “convenience”, even when the things don’t necessarily involve me as much. Because the shape or appearance of my ass has absolutely no fucking relevance to my ability to decipher and analyze data, to formulate opinions, but it absolutely can help me captivate a larger audience. To use my platform and people who otherwise would not come into contact with me for a greater purpose. You all obviously read and listen to this. You’re taking in my mentality, savoring it (or despising, either way, you’re supporting and enabling me, so thank you). I hope I can somehow intrigue you within the process of learning enough that you continue to show your support. 

In fact, one of the main reasons I keep myself in such good physical shape is that when men can clearly acknowledge my physical superiority, and tangible strength, it’s slightly easier for them to acknowledge my mental strength as well. 

It started with the Presidential Physical Fitness test in third grade, sorry Madison, I could do more pull ups than you because I had 3 hours of gymnastics every night. 

Continued into high school, where I ran with the boys in track, because they were the only ones who would actually run more than 2 miles with me, or when I ran 5k’s around the various naval bases, emasculating the marines with my light, elvish footsteps in my Nike Frees. 

Or when I played football and kicked a game winner, so I was finally “accepted”, even though I could have been used just as much to run the ball in, and actually play any other position or even like quarterback because not only was I fast as fuck, but I can read a sports game better than most people. That’s where intellect gets you as an athlete. The Eli Manning of all of my sporting teams. 

Or maybe it was playing baseball when the mom on the opposing team filed a complaint about me jumping in when the team needed an extra player, all because I gunned her son down at home from center field. By the next game, I was officially registered and all of my runs counted. Go take your participation trophy home, lady.

Or on the futsal courts, when I had to body the fuck out of the physically stronger guys, who took those opportunities to let my ass graze up against their pre-teen cocks, only to be like “WOAH!” just because I was playing exactly the same fucking way they played with the guys. You don’t have to go easy on me, ya know. I actually hate that. 

And that demeanor commands respect, because men have become so warped that the only time they are allowed to openly experience emotion in our patriarchal society is through sport. Coupled with the endorphin high of physical performance, and that maybe being one of the only ways many of them have ever been validated or heard words of affirmation, it’s no wonder they tie physical performance to desirability so much. So keeping myself in shape has its advantages. Having a six pack, which, for women is even more difficult than for men, because generally men don’t have a lil layer of fat protecting their uterus, and the muscle definition I have draws the acknowledgement that I can hold my own in battle. I am a gladiator, a soldier. But I shouldn’t have to make myself physically intimidating to hold my own in a progressive world. 

And I also shouldn’t have to soften my striking intimidation, my unconventional warfare, just because it comes across that much harsher from the face of a beautiful woman. You really fail to recognize that Athena, the goddess of war strategy, was ALSO the goddess of wisdom, poetry, and art? The woman born wearing battle armor was still able to understand and appreciate the softer side of the world. It’s all connected to emotional intelligence. That’s how you achieve true strength. 

So instead of stigmatizing women, or limiting anyone’s identity to strictly their professional role, how about we stop being so obsessed with specialization of just one thing that we neglect the multifaceted reality. Specializing and becoming the best is only really important for its generalizability. But the very fact that you seek the spotlight means you don’t want to exist in complete anonymity, that’s where the hermits who wander amongst the Appalachian trail reside. And if we seek greatness, which, historically, the USA has been rather inundated with thrusting upon everyone else in the world, then we actually need to start being great. Of achieving higher levels of self actualization. Of requiring greater standards for the level of humanity in our society, which starts with not creating an environment where your worth, and subsequent political vote, is SOLELY dependent financial status. And those who are truly great do not refuse to acknowledge their flaws.

So knowing that these issues exist, we need to do better. Men, specifically, need to do better. But also the women who use their positions or desperation for a grasp of power to harm other women, instead of climbing the ladder together. Even Drake has been trying to tell y’all that it shouldn’t be lonely at the top–that defeats the purpose. I talk about my experiences all the time, not to highlight the wrong doings of others (that is just a pleasant lil latent effect) but so everyone can learn from my mistakes or the events in my life to better themselves. It’s as self-critical as it is confident. I approach my personal life with the same scientific separation in the quest for knowledge that I do my IRB-approved studies. 

And more often than not, ESPECIALLY in therapy, I struggle to get through these discussions.

It’s HARD to be so resilient and strong.

I didn’t name this blog or podcast “Survival Mode” because I was frolicking through the fucking flowers my entire life.

It’s not easy to sit down and have these discussions with yourself, let alone others. But it’s a lot harder to live in a world that ignores it. 

Nobody is fucking happy for a reason. People are escaping to social media instead of reality for connection because reality sucks. But you have every ability to change the reality you live in, even just a little, and even by example. Let’s stop setting unrealistic standards for humans, even in professional roles. Let’s require accountability, introspection, vulnerability, even from our leaders. Because our leaders should be setting the greatest example of all. 

And life is a competition, yes, but we don’t have to measure the value in it by productivity. The best creation is not rushed. There is value to slowing down, beauty in recognizing and accepting the madness. It is luminescent, ethereal. We need to value humanity for the things that actually make us human in society–our connection, expression of emotion, ability to learn and grow together. Our capitalist society doesn’t need to dictate EVERY SINGLE THING such that every aspect of our lives must be monetized, or you only release art when you think it’s profitable. Learn to express yourselves. Learn to express humility. Compassion. Empathy. It’s far more complex and intriguing than anger.

Learn to once more value being human. 

Sources:

https://medicine.umich.edu/dept/surgery/news/archive/201904/women-vascular-surgery-symposium

https://www.jvascsurg.org/article/S0741-5214(19)32587-X/fulltext#:~:text=Potentially%20unprofessional%20content%20appeared%20in,(6%20accounts%2C%202.5%25)%2C

An Open Letter to School Boards across the USA: On Coronavirus

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
An Open Letter to School Boards across the USA: On Coronavirus



Loading





/

Bottom line: it is not safe to send children back.

What are we teaching is important right now?

What is the point in sending children back when in a month or two, we may have a completely different national policy dependent on the outcome of the upcoming election.

An epidemiologist & middle school teacher’s take.

Just Two Moderate Humans

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
Just Two Moderate Humans



Loading





/

Sitting down with my childhood best friend, Molly, we explore topics relevant to us in colloquial conversation–including sexuality and feminism in the 21st century, politics and not feeling represented by our government, navigating religion in the modern world, and so on.

Hitler 2.0 aka Trump 2020

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
Hitler 2.0 aka Trump 2020



Loading





/

On the topic of elections, I encourage everybody to educate yourselves on BOTH dominant political parties, on all viewpoints, from a holistic approach considering both national and international implications for our country. To truly be a great American is to take our democratic principles seriously. To consider the global stage we are on, the light we guide and control the world with. To consider what kind of legacy we want to push forth.

If hearing the opposing views, or listening to the stories, or reading the statistics and seeing the media coverage is too difficult for you to confront, then you clearly are not educated enough to be voting on that topic. If you have to “mute” or “unfollow” accounts or people on social media who are actually spreading things topically relevant to them and affecting every aspect of their personal, public, and professional lives, and you consider that person a friend, then you need to stop and consider why you don’t also want to support their right to safety, adequate healthcare, and physical wellbeing. Because your vote does affect other people’s lives. Lives that have minimal or no affect on your own.

At the end of this, I don’t want to hear a fucking word about what a “snowflake libtard” I am either, because I’m about as small town, historic America as it fucking gets. I grew up just outside D.C. in a historically preserved agricultural, heavily Christian community on an appaloosa horse family farm. My maternal grandfather was a Colonel in the US Army and veteran of WWII, Korea, and Vietnam, my paternal grandfather was a US Army, National Guard, and Army Reserves veteran, and NYC police officer for 27 years. My biological father was developed nuclear weapons as an aerospace engineer in the Pentagon. My stepfather is career Navy and flew drones in the Gulf War. I bleed red, white, and blue and won my third grade talent show after 9/11 singing the National Anthem. So get the fuck out of here and don’t you dare try to say voting for him is a vote for Democracy.

This is also one of the reasons I’m so passionate about how it absolutely is our responsibility as American citizens to actually consider the wider spectrum of views than just the ones we were born into. I watched my grandfather refuse to die, desperately clinging to life for years as a result of the horrors of living with his life choices. I watched him drink gin from the minute he woke up to right before bed because his decisions under pressure cost thousands of human lives, for the good of our country. Even his most justified decisions rang heavily on his conscience. Considering the value of a life is never an easy decision to make. Sure, it is necessary, but it is just as important to remember that

you have a moral obligation not just to limit your own casualties and casualties of nonparticipants, but also those of the enemy itself

as Annie Jacobsen so pointedly writes in “The Pentagon’s Brain”.

There are consequences to our actions.
Ignorance has never been a valid excuse for breaking the law, so why do we allow it when creating them, voting on them?

Seriously though, whether you support Trump or not, you owe it to yourself and your country to actually be aware of how close his leadership style is to fascism or the mindset of Nazi Germany.

And I say that as a blonde-haired, blue-green eyed German. Trump is also of German descent, for the record.

Let’s dive right in.

And as fearful as Trump is, I’m more fearful, in this moment of truth for our nation, that there is a significant proportion of my friends who I would normally consider reasonable, well-educated, and respectful, who I value dearly, and who I THOUGHT valued me, and the world, dearly, who are still planning to vote for him. 

So I’m coming to you now, as someone who (embarassingly) actually refused to see the greatness that is Barack Obama speak at UNC during my undergrad, based almost exclusively on the principal mentality that “being liberal is evil” and “anti military”, and I implore you to actually consider the weight of your actions when you mark that ballot.

Any true American who legitimately wants America to be great will vote for Joe Biden.

Anything else is leaving the door open for Adolf Hitler 2.0 to stroll through.

Sources

“A 1938 Nazi Law Forced Jews to Register Their Wealth—Making It Easier to Steal.” Smithsonian Magazine, 26 April 2018, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/1938-nazi-law-forced-jews-register-their-wealthmaking-it-easier-steal-180968894/. Accessed 12 October 2020.

Hart, Bradley W. “The Nazis and the Soviets both tried to put a candidate in the White House, too.” Business Insider, 27 January 2019, https://www.businessinsider.com/the-nazis-and-the-soviets-both-tried-to-meddle-in-us-elections-2019-1. Accessed 12 October 2020.

How did Hitler Happen? World War II: The National WWII Museum of New Orleans. https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/how-did-hitler-happen.

Long, Heather. “Trump just crushed stimulus talks, endangering the U.S. economy and 26 million on unemployment.” The Washington Post, 6 October 2020, https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2020/10/06/trump-stimulus-economy-unemployment/. Accessed 11 October 2020.

McCarthy, Niall. “U.S. Billionaire Wealth Surged Since The Start Of The Pandemic.” Forbes, 22 June 2020, https://www.forbes.com/sites/niallmccarthy/2020/06/22/us-billionaire-wealth-surged-since-the-start-of-the-pandemic-infographic/#4e84deb83f8b.

Office of Disease Prevention and Health Promotion. “Incarceration.” HealthyPeople.gov, 8 October 2020, https://www.healthypeople.gov/2020/topics-objectives/topic/social-determinants-health/interventions-resources/incarceration. Accessed 12 October 2020.

Pappas, Stephanie. “Hitler’s Rise: How a Homeless Artist Became a Murderous Tyrant.” Live Science, 18 April 2016, https://www.livescience.com/54441-how-hitler-rose-to-power.html.

Seema Mehta. “Trump’s touting of ‘racehorse theory’ tied to eugenics and Nazis alarms Jewish leaders.” Los Angeles Times, 5 October 2020, https://www.latimes.com/politics/story/2020-10-05/trump-debate-white-supremacy-racehorse-theory. Accessed 11 October 2020.

Snyder, Timothy. “How Hitler Pioneered “Fake News.”” The New York Times, 16 October 2019, https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/16/opinion/hitler-speech-1919.html.

Wikipedia. “Economic Policy of Donald Trump Administration.” Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia, 2020, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Economic_policy_of_Donald_Trump_administration. Accessed 12 October 2020.

Wikipedia. “Economy of Nazi Germany.” Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia, 20 September 2020, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Economy_of_Nazi_Germany. Accessed 12 October 2020.

Wikipedia. “Incarceration in the United States.” Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia, 2020, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incarceration_in_the_United_States. Accessed 12 October 2020.

JOE ROGAN:

Survival Mode
Survival Mode
JOE ROGAN:
Loading
/

What is wrong with the USA and why would he ever be a worthy moderator of a presidential debate?

If any of you have perused the athletic “scandal” that is my instagram (which, my siblings would have you believe automatically makes me the devil incarnate and dishonoring the entire family more than Mulan… both of which occurred for just being women, I would like to note….)  then you’d probably know I’m not too fond of Joe Rogan. So my disdain at the very thought that he would facilitate a presidential debate was even more disheartening. I already wanted to put my head through a god damn wall, like Mike Sorentino did that one season of Jersey Shore where they went to Italy (Season 4? Maybe? It’s been a while), but this just tips the scales ever so slightly. 

So who is Joe Rogan?

Brief overview:

-American comedian

-Host of one of the world’s most popular podcasts, several of which hosted some of the 2020 Democratic presidential candidates (Andrew Yang, Tulsi Gabbard, and Bernie Sanders)

-Has had a plethora of political figures, public figures, and scientists relevant to US history, and possibly, the rest of this discussion, including Edward Snowden, Elon Musk, and my personal favorite, Iliza Shlesinger

-Commentator for Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC), the patrons of which arguably make up the largest part of his audience (from my personal experience / interactions with men in the wild)

-Probably the ONLY reason he has any actual political pull is because our government and cultural values as a country are so fucking corrupt that we somehow don’t see this as a global embarassment. And money = power in good ole capitalism, so this guy MUST get it, right?

Why Am I skeptical About This? 

To sum it up, you’re about to dive into a rabbit hole of how Joe Rogan embodies the American experience of exactly what pisses me off most about our patriarchal culture and why he is absolutely the wrong choice as moderator of a presidential debate, but particularly a presidential debate in the setting of a global pandemic (which he previously downplayed), where distribution of wealth is a regular issue (the guy plays with which state to relocate to like its a board game–this is people’s livelihood at stake, have some class), and we already have one too many white men who think they’re going to be the one with the world-class mentality of saving (literally, we just want OUR OWN VOICES, you do not need to step in, asserting yourself to “represent” us…how about you help get US into those positions?)

But I digress…

Let’s Take One Giant Leap Back Mankind…

To properly get into this, I’m going to delve into my own background as an athlete, and what I’ve come to focus on with my own world views now that I’m well into my 20’s (and OBVIOUSLY know all.) It’ll be worth it, I promise. By now, you should realize all of my writing comes full circle at some point.

From the time I could walk, I was playing sports, with the decision that I was Olympic quality being made prior to my conception. My dad played in the minor league baseball circuits on his summers home in NY from Embry Riddle, and he played with a AAA team that fed the Yankees. My mom, a mathematician in D.C., graduated from Penn State after being an NCAA Division 1 collegiate runner. The genetics were in place, and my siblings and I were destined for greatness. 

Growing up, running was always my way to stay “in shape”. Sure, I competed for my middle school track (2 practices then showing up at a meet against the other local middle schools) and in high school (cross country, indoor and outdoor track), but I never actually “trained” for it with any actual structure. My high school coach had been the same person who coached my mom “back in the day”, and he literally let us, kids under the age of 18 with no personal experience or knowledge on what healthy running is, to choose the workouts. Our boys team played a variation of four square for practice. I stayed in shape, though, playing multiple sports a season, attending two official practices a day once I got to high school, often 3 (usually 1-2 for my actual highschool and 1-2 travel teams). I never once slowed down. This was my norm, though, and seems to be the norm for most of America in this rat race of endless exhaustion we call a “free market”. 

When I was old enough to walk, I was enrolled in gymnastics. 3 hours a day, 6 days a week. Some days I cried about being at practice. Other days, all I wanted to do was climb that creepily high rope and make the long drop into the foam pit. I had a six pack by age 5 and spent my brother’s baseball games practicing my back handsprings along the baseline past the dugouts.

We also grew up on a farm, so not only did I have to attend practices for all of my sports, but riding horses regularly was considered a chore, not a “practice”, and horses take a lot of daily work. It’s a rare person I come across that understands the full impact growing up on a farm has on a person. If it was light outside, though, and I wasn’t at practice for one of my other sports, I was usually found somewhere on or near my ponies. So after I was exhausted with practices, I usually had to go take care of the horses, and only THEN could I eat, shower, or sleep. 

Side note: I actually think that’s why wrestling attracts so many midwestern boys–they’re used to working these insane schedules and intensities of workouts from what it means to be “country” folk, but they’re all of the country folk who question authority (in a good way, often, just not one that’s necessarily viewed as beneficial to all of society when not constructively channelled) We’ll touch back on wrestling in a bit.

In middle school, the decision came to discontinue competitive gymnastics, due to time constraints with my growing equestrian career. Inserted in its time slot on my schedule was travel soccer, something I’d be able to do with the rest of the crowd in high school. 

Quitting gymnastics at ~13 years old also let me finally hit puberty, so I scaled from 4’11” to 5’7” in the course of my eighth grade year and entered high school ready to continue leveling up my athletic career. 

In high school, I went from sport-to-sport searching for that desperate endorphin high to target my frustration at everything (my parents, siblings, the mean girls in my grade, one of whom was my best friend/”frenemy”, boys, the world, Hannah Montana being cancelled, you name it). Like Taylor Swift, “I was an impossible pace”, and only forced to slow down when 9th grade year of travel soccer, some stupid bitch illegally slide tackled me from straight behind me (terrible form, what are you, a Duke basketball player? What a dirty fucking play). I fell straight onto my left clavicle, completely severing it in half and displacing it by two inches. Now, I’m not a very big person. My clavicles are rather dainty, in fact. (My upper body is actually the one place I hold absolutely no weight.) It was gross, my arm was just hanging limply. Well, if there was any question as to whether that love for the adrenaline rush had fucked me up, it was answered in that moment, because I STILL tried to play. We were already a man down, having had a red card and been down a man to start the match, and I couldn’t sit on the sideline and just watch. Plus, I had been sent with another parent via carpool, so my mom wasn’t even there to take me to the hospital! The only choice was obviously to fucking play!

If you wonder where the determination comes from, I’ve always had it. Earlier that fall, I had “just decided” one day that I wanted to play football. I’d jumped into some of my older brother’s practices growing up, so why wouldn’t I be able to do it at the high school level? I could hold my own against him, Royce, and Alex, who were the best on the Waldorf Wildcats. All of the boys in high school had just been on different teams they’d beaten. So, I joined the freshman football team, much to the dismay of several of the boy’s parents, and wore glitter eyeshadow to every single game. Even though my dad drove me over thirty minutes from my high school soccer game to my high school football game in the neighboring county (it was the first game, I couldn’t completely miss it!) and my kick never had a shot because I got my experience of what I can only imagine is a fraction of what freshmen fraternity members all across the USA experience in hazing. 

As I leaned forward, moving to kick, with the snap of the ball, my entire line decided to stand up and move aside, letting 3 huge line men have a clear shot to my very first kick in a game ever! I got anime-style judo-thrown about ten yards directly backwards by 3 ~200+ pound linemen who had just seen me, ~110 lb, 5’7” frame, long blonde hair swinging, GIRL, running across the track to my team’s huddle. And despite being tall, I was scrawny in the way most 9th grade girls are, and we had to borrow my shoulder pads from the local poundball team. (Small clavicles, remember.) It was one of those moments where the entire stadium is quiet, sure that I was dead. When Laquan (my amazing holder, side note, he transferred and his replacement deserves the following message: fuck you Madison Townley–you and I both know exactly what you did) came up to offer me a hand and check on me, already waving the coaches over, ASSUMING I was hurt, he was rather surprised to find me laughing hysterically and basically being like “what the fuck guys, do you think I’ve never been tackled before”. It’s almost like these men forgot I grew up with an older brother. Or riding horses. Or doing gymnastics. I’m USED to eating complete shit and taking it like a mother fucking champ.

Two games later, I kicked the 27-yard game winning field goal against an otherwise-undefeated magnet school that could essentially recruit its football team, who later went on to win States our senior years. Which, if you grew up in a small town, you know basically certifies your celebrity status amongst the good ole hometown boys. 

In track earlier that winter, I made it to the top of SMAC as a freshman in every distance event. My coach believed it was our duty to help out our team as much as possible, so, knowing I would kill myself to score as much as I could, he put me in the 4x800m, the 1600m, the 3200m, and the 800m. I ran 4 miles of racing 1-2 times a week for 3 months and just kept moving up in the rankings. At nights, there were futsal practices and weekends were balanced with a series of co-ed games. I “had” the time, so why not? 

Spring track was just like the winter, and despite being “coached” by other high school athletes (which is, honestly, the most inappropriate thing for any kind of distance running), I was still performing at generally unprecedented levels for a freshman. The signs were all there for me to just keep staying right on track. (Pun intended). The clavicle break happened just after my spring season ended, in the midst of travel soccer, so my summer was spent recovering and I only really missed a season of travel soccer.

Plus, a broken bone, by highschool, was standard procedure. I had already broken 3 bones in my foot on two separate occasions. (The person responsible for one of those actually had a terrible bout with cancer and ultimately passed a few years back, so I look on the memory more fondly now.) I inherited my father’s clumsiness, so I’d broken multiple toes separate from those foot fractures. Seriously…one time I broke my toe climbing out of giving my dog a bath in the tub. It got caught in my towel and twisted. I’m an accident waiting to happen. For the most part, though, gymnastics had taught me how to beat the shit out of my body, but safely. I’ll never forget seeing what others must’ve all the times I skirted injuries prior, than when I watched my best friend Anna sprinting after a guy in our dorm, only to slowly lean forward drunkenly and seamlessly move into a diving forward roll. She continued her drunken sprint otherwise undisturbed and without missing a beat. My own father has broken all of his fingers several times, his nose roughly ten times, and a plethora of other fractures all over his body, and my mother grew up on the very Appaloosa horse farm that I was now growing up on, and you see a LOT of gruesome injuries on farms. Injuries like this were simply a part of life and part of loving the sport so much. My lack of nerve endings and ability to tolerate pain in a variety of abnormal ways is probably part of what contributes to my love of all sexual exploration now, too, interestingly enough. But I digress…

By the time I finished high school, I lettered in 14 different varsity sports. Mind you, we only had 3 seasons. In track alone, I was moved from distance (my 4×800, 800m, 1600m, 3200m quadruple each meet, into a mixture of hurdles, steeplechase, 4x200m, 4x400m, and even high jump, adapting and excelling universally. Collecting trophies became an expectation and they no longer held significant meaning. I knew I had earned them because the work was tangibly there in documented physical performance, sweat, and muscle fatigue. I had moved into the ODP-trajectory of soccer, acquired my C-1 certification in pony club, competed in equestrian nationals. I had placed 14th individually at cross country states, the 4th hardest high school cross country course in the nation, on 1 week of practices after my soccer season was out, I had All-County, All-Conference Honors, the Wendy’s High School Heisman State and National Finalist, accolade after accolade. And at the time, I’m sure I enjoyed sports for the recognition. Winning each race or game or match was this necessity to somehow justify the hours of work had paid off. I was occasionally in the paper for things like when I stopped to help my fellow SMAC competitor mid-race of that same State championship cross country race, but the idea of “sportsmanship” felt weird, because I still made sure I didn’t fucking let her beat me when she regained her composure on the course.

In college, my freshman year was the first time I didn’t feel a need to compete. Yet, after finally loosening up my reservations and drinking alcohol for the first time in my life, I determined that partying was fun (still love it, find me at E11even in Miami instead of a frat party, though), but I craved the structure of routine and performance that sports had always given me. My goals in life did not revolve around grinding up on our 7’ tall NBA-bound basketball athletes under the neon fixture intricately balanced above a questionably constructed frat-house-basement stage, much as those men may have wanted them to (Seriously, PJ Hairston, stop sliding in my DMs asking me to suck your dick every time I post a throw back from Dance Marathon). The amount of now-famous dicks I could’ve sucked if I didn’t have a solid amount of self-respect. (But also, no slut shaming here, I was just mentally recovering from a very abusive relationship and gobbling an endless array of dicks Nathan’s hot-dog-contest style just wouldn’t fulfill me.) Although, it’s a lot less cool to tell people that Tre Boston, a safety for the Carolina Panthers, tries to ass-fuck women on the dance floor of La Rez and literally just shoved me over and pounded up against me, as if he was actually fucking me. I’m not sure who taught you to dance, buddy, but in the DMV we get a lot more sensual than that. It’s more “Cassie’s “Me + U”” theme than whatever Metallica-level of hatred you had for crushing your dick against my backside in the ten seconds before I pulled the plug, completely disturned. I will say, the guy was one of my African studies partners (Honestly, an incredible class. Shout out to Pierce Freelon.) SURPRISINGLY I KNOW FOR UNC AND NCAA ATHLETES, ESPECIALLY THE FOOTBALL TEAM  *shocked pikachu gif* and to this day, I’m genuinely curious as to what about me seemed like that was appropriate? Or what about being the ONLY person in La Rez dancing made that seem like it was appropriate? Let’s use some context clues next time before I have to lower your audacity like a character control on Madden. 

Anywho, I enjoyed my LFIT class because it was group PE, and I normally had to work out alone. I did club gymnastics, too, though without a proper coach, I couldn’t trust my shoulder enough to throw or try what I used to so freely. Liability wise, public universities should probably at least make sure there are credentialed coaches/mentors overseeing their collegiate activities for students. One more way to create fun jobs that don’t make people hate their lives! Still, I missed competition that I could take seriously. I missed being a part of that togetherness, the environment of a team. The Club track team was a possibility, but I had never really “meshed” with just girls, as I come off naturally very dominant, try as I might not, and my first practice (I hadn’t run that summer, remember, I didn’t have to in high school sports) I got dropped on a trail 3 miles off the school’s property and had no knowledge of the town itself yet, so no way to know where I was, what direction to head, or even who the girls were I’d been with. I didn’t blame them, though, I was holding them back. It just didn’t make me want to return. 

That said, the summer leading up to my sophomore year, I contacted the track coach from the magnet school in my county (the ones who misuse their vocational school programs to recruit for their athletic programs) and was set onto what would then build into a 2-year training program, at its peak of 85 miles-per-week and running a 68 minute 10-mile race on a difficult course. I had finally found a group of equally nerdy, balanced introverted/extroverted kids who needed to channel their energy into something productively. Even amongst the D1 circuit, it was with these oddballs now dispersed all over the globe that I finally found a positive sporting community. 

And distance running, unlike other sports, gives you time to think. Distance runners tend to be the nerdier groups, the scientists, the introverts, because you can be completely unathletic and still be great at it. Seriously. Picture your cross country runners from high school. Those nerdy, lanky kids just turn into nerdy, lanky adults. I say that fondly, as a fellow geek. I’m just “cool-passing” because I’m physically attractive to most males under the white, blonde, American Barbie model. You also self-reflect during all of those miles–at some point having to confront your thoughts because it’s just you and the dirt trail winding through the woods in front of you. We spend the most time in the natural world, so it makes sense that we often become the biologists, the conservationists, the environmentalists who eventually transition into doing triathlons, ultramarathons, or hiking the US National Parks in our later years. 

My parents were amongst many of those who believed that sports were my ticket to pay for college. They had tried to save money, but even they couldn’t have anticipated how expensive colleges got. Or how I would be recruited for both academics and athletics NATIONALLY, yet then they would have the audacity to limit me to an in-state or more affordable option, after my years of work and performance. Even when soccer recruiting fell through, because they couldn’t afford to pay for all of my travel teams AND send me to camps over the summer, my mom was convinced that my switch into track would get me to the Olympics. (Even this summer, she literally said the words “there’s always cross country skiing”. Mother, there is also coronavirus.) 

But unlike probably a lot of other athletes, I didn’t ever give a fuck about the Olympics, I just enjoyed being athletic. I like the way it makes my body feel, the strength it gives me. I never thought about it past the practice at hand, the game coming up, when the season was progressing. Being an athlete was such a necessary part of who I was, and am, as a person, that no lack of title or performance achievement takes that away. After all of my accolades, the titles became meaningless after a while. Much like the current holder of the “presidency”, supposedly the most coveted position in the world, they lose their worth when they fail to recognize or be filled with actual value. Some of the best athletes I’ve ever met fall unnoticed, through the cracks of exhaustion. It wasn’t lack of talent, either, it was the inability to avoid other responsibilities in their daily lives. Needing to commit to work to provide for their families, and not even their own children, but their parent’s children or sibling’s babies, or being unable to risk the potential health scare and not currently being insured, the looming threat of your already meager savings, despite working multiple jobs and well over the 40 hour work week, being decimated by the cost of healthcare too great a reality. How many people did I swipe through on Bumble who were into their 30’s yet still claimed “washed up athlete” in their bio? 

But, my brother had walked on to his NCAA D1 collegiate baseball team after choosing a school for mechanical engineering, somehow getting paid for his contribution while also playing 91 games a season and having to stay in Columbia over the summer until eventually going to Omaha, Nebraska, for back-to-back-to-back College World Series Championship games (2 of which were victorious). Obviously, I needed to follow in his footsteps, as that was expected. Everything he had done in life, I had also done, or exceeded, in some way. The spotlight must be mine. Nevermind that I was already studying biochemistry at a top 5 public university, which would win the Nobel Prize (Did I spell that right, Mr. Trump?) during my time there, I also needed to do more. He got to take batting practice with Bryce Harper, Jackie Bradley Junior, Grayson Greiner, and Christian Walker, all of whom are now living out his dreams of playing in the MLB while he hates his mechanical engineering position. 

So where do we draw the lines of “success”? At what point can I stop competing with my siblings in the eyes of my parents? And society? Why is everyone always so obsessed with the stats of the players instead of who they are outside of that few hours of media devotion? 

Sports in the USA

Now, when I look back on that time, and all of my achievements in sports, in today’s day and age, I have to stop and think about what it really means for me to “be an athlete”. 

This topic has come up a lot recently, particularly with the media and Colin Kaepernick’s Black Lives Matter protests. A popular sentiment is the idea that an athlete such as Kaepernick should “stay in their lane”. Your job is to play the game. We, as the consumers, are here to judge you. You’re a vessel for being bet on.

That sentiment is rooted in the necessity of US culture to route you into one career at age 18 for the rest of your life. Like Eminem says, “you only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow”. Gotta love that good ole influence of a patriarchal society built around militaristic values. That government propaganda to encourage “Patriotism” under duress of war, entrapping you in a career of military life because you no longer fit in with the normal population and they make no efforts to rehabilitate you (unless moving out West counts) and foundations of individual priorities, for a NATION of 3 billion people (ya, sounds VERY sustainable, you dumb twats) seeps into the economy by normalizing thousands of dollars of debt, remaining in a job EVEN IF YOU HATE IT, as long as it pays “decently” because you should be “LUCKY”, to even have one. Or how we should be lucky with our ability to speak out in favor of different conditions portrayed as “radical” social movements instead of “progress”, because the alternative is what, a communist regime? 

So as an athlete, you’re gifted with the ability to use your presence, but not necessarily your voice. It’s a bit of a “the consumer is always right” mentality that gluttonizes our Super-Size-Me brethren of West Virginia gremlins (there is a lot of good about hicks, for the record) instills this false narcissism that they should also dictate programming. And who can argue with that logic, when the end goal is ratings and viewership? The phrase #MoreThanAnAthlete becomes a social media movement, because it’s necessary. The very idea that an athlete, or any public figure, for that matter, is an actual human being and not a corporate-controlled lizard-person is blasphemous to the people who actually need to be reminded. 

But this has been a COMMON THEME throughout sports history! How has our education failed us such that people can so easily forget the incredibly vast history of utilizing sports to make a political stance throughout history? Why was THIS news? How is it that we thought it was controversial that a BLACK MAN wanted to protest statistically proven police brutality against BLACK INDIVIDUALS? WHY WAS THAT FRAMED AS AN UPROAR? Why did we even have to justify whether an athlete should have their own voice and still be supported, particularly when it highlighted a national issue with decades of indisputable statistical evidence? Why was America’s response outrage? 

The History of the NFL:

The reality of the backlash to Kaepernick’s protest being in the NFL is that organizations like the NFL, or American football, and even the MLB, (the “World” Series is literally just the United States, let’s retitle that, okay? How about we start youth programs in other countries? Provide them with baseballs, bats, and explain the rules?) is that both organizations are USA-centered. They aren’t played in the Olympics because they’re not Olympic sports. They’re the foundation of “the USA is best” because the USA is the only one doing it. And in a nation with such strong foundations of cultural racism, such as a league where 70% of the players are colored, yet only 2 of the teams have colored ownership, it’s a parallel of slavery. 

In the NFL, 22 of the teams have been owned by the same family for the past 20 years. Even in 2018, only 2 of the 32 teams were owned by people of color. Which means as a football player, you’ve literally signed a contract exchanging your physicality for a sum. It’s a rather large sum, but still. Since the average player retires by the age of 26, that means you need to figure out a way to physically push your body to unsustainable levels for the “glory” of performing in stadiums of sweaty, greasy, overweight middle aged men who lost sight of their dicks years ago. But hey! Those men have money. And if you’re getting paid for it, I guess you shouldn’t consider it “slavery”…even though the principles you stand for as a person have effectively been brutally criticized by the media and reduced to nonimportance just because your ring of white owners frowned at it. 

I’m from a sports family too, so I’ll admit, when he first started kneeling for the National Anthem, in my mind I sat there and went “hmm, well let’s see. In 2012 he replaced Alex Smith as the 49er’s quarterback out of opportunity (Smith had a concussion), leading them to a superbowl appearance–their first since 1994. In 2013 he had a decent season, but then the years that followed had him in/out of the starting position. By 2016, he was yesterday’s news, a decent quarterback, but the NFL is full of those. This MUST be a publicity stunt just to make it hard to cut him.” 

Even if that were true, though, what is the harm in what he did? 

Why would it bother me that a mixed black child who was adopted by a white family, went on to excel in academics and multiple sports until he landed at the University of Nevada, Reno on a full scholarship wanted to talk about race? Children (and adults) who are adopted, first of all, already have a series of psychological considerations to their upbringings that would inevitably cause some confusion or cognitive dissonance, even with access to all of the “best” therapists and early interventionists. Children (and adults) who are anything other than white also face a HUGE array of subtle reminders of just where in society other people think they “rightfully belong” at every step in their life. I got bullied as a child and even though I KNEW it was rooted in jealousy, it still hurt. Could you imagine people doing that at every stage of your life and never growing out of it no matter how “successful” you get? 

As a woman in STEM, I’m now well aware of the discomforts of trying to forge your way into rooms that were gated to keep you out. Of the pressure to be something because anything else is a “waste”. Of wanting to have your voice be acknowledged and respected without feeling the need to validate yourself with an endless supply of evidence, scientific theory, and quantitative data. Your male colleagues can just give the answer and know it won’t be questioned. You have to have 2-3 different bullet points to support.

My first conscious experience of this was really in college (only because I was blind to what the criticism towards me as a person was rooted in years prior). Prior to college, I didn’t really have black men in my classes. Bhaskar, my Indian gamer friend, who was great with computers in high school–which, to the extent of my knowledge meant he could install Snake on my TI-83 graphing calculator, was the only real minority. My football teammates were black, though, they just weren’t in the “advanced” classes. Maybe 1-2 black kids played soccer. I also dated a Hispanic-appearing boy from the neighboring high school, and my mom taught at all of the lower-income area schools in the county for most of my adolescence. 

I thought that, because I also had a difficult home life, in a low-income area, and we went to the same schools, that they had the same opportunities that I had–especially since I was friends with so many different people. In reality, every opportunity I had was the initiative of my parent’s necessity for some standard of “greatness”. Those kids might have ONLY been able to do that one thing that I just happened to do with them. My parent’s home, and all of our space for my creativity, was funded by my Grandfather’s distinguished military career. Sure, I put in the work behind the scenes, but the opportunities were dropped in my lap and all I had to do was show up. Nobody looked at me and doubted me once I got going. I had to keep my peppy mouth shut, but only until after I proved my worth on the field. And because I was so multifaceted, instead of being silenced, my voice was encouraged. My junior high school year, I wrote for my tri-county newspaper’s “Athlete’s Diary”, a weekly column that I could tailor to my own interests. I was ENCOURAGED to use my voice as an athlete, and because of my physical ability, it was respected on and off the field by those who were aware. 

How would it ever be “normalized” to think otherwise? 

It’s Not Just an “NFL” Problem:

As a child, I viewed sports with the “Field of Dreams”, “Angels in the Outfield”, and “Little Giants” mentality. The American dream of underdog’s prevailing is universally appreciated, a real fan favorite. How is it, then, that we meet it with such disdain when its presented to us in the form of racial inequality? How can the same percentage of people who cling to those replays for nostalgic comfort be so blind as to condemn it when it doesn’t even interfere with the timing of the game? 

And at what point in the USA did we become so enthralled with sports, our consumerism culture, and our own egos as a nation that we neglected to realize sports are pastimes, a luxury, the result of having the time to focus on such things because the rest of our lives are going well enough that we can devote the time to games? At least within our country.

Was it always like this? 

The very idea that we have so much time on our hands that we can have professional athletes, let alone intellectual professional athletes from all corners of our land coming together to run, skip, hop, jump, shoot, spin, whatever, for “glory”, all because they’ve been privileged enough to have the time to devote to something like running, or swimming cannot exist without the rest of the community functioning within the realms of proper “civilization”. As someone with multiple higher education degrees, I understand that I only get to study epidemiology and biochemistry BECAUSE there are people who provide my food, make my clothes, take care of our national security, pick up the trash, sow the grain that I feed my horses, make the communities that I travel between so safe. 

Yet, somehow in the event of a global pandemic, the chronic health effects of which we are sure to uncover, in horror, for YEARS (which Joe Rogan did a SIGNIFICANT amount of discounting, for the record), our athletes emerged as on the table of “essential” workers. When our nation should have been “putting the team on our back”, literally by doing what our fat fucking American selves have prepared our ENTIRE lives for, which is, to stay at fucking home and drink, watch movies, play video games, and fuck and/or masturbate for 2-3 weeks, instead we demanded sports teams to travel across the country, downplaying the risk to not just the players but the hotel staff, the bartenders, even the coaches, whose very designation as “needing” to go back to work (for the money) meant they definitely wouldn’t have been able to afford their healthcare bills should they GET coronavirus. Not to mention you’re also endangering the lives of their families, those they interact with in public (purposefully or by chance), and contact tracing is a butterfly effect twistering out of control. Plus, in Florida, where the NBA opted to move the bubble to Disney for, they tied the relief funding to a business’s ability to return back to work at X capacity, effectively removing any “freedom of choice” from whether they TRULY felt it was “safe” or not. Or how we just created an entire generation of people that may doubt science should a biological warfare attack, the newest, growing range of warfare for the last few decades, occur and necessitate our use of masks to prevent a plague. The point is, nothing about that situation was handled with any level of sanity or logic, and as a nation, we should’ve used the time to highlight WHY we still prioritize athletics. How to be active within the confines of your quarantine. Notable movements spawned by athletes throughout our history.

Athletics were our distractions, our GAMES, a luxury. Not essential. 

Becoming a professional athlete in the United States is just another competition that removes the purpose behind athletics if you don’t get to use it for anything meaningful, like a voice. And removing the purpose behind athletics just makes it like anything else–any old job. But ambivalence doesn’t sell out stadiums. Fans don’t cry because they’re neutral about a rivalry. So, like almost every facet of our culture, the USA has warped our view of sports to be a capitalist-driven market place such that our professional networks are effectively modern-day slavery, particularly women’s sports, that ONLY exist for the American consumer because it is tied to your paycheck, healthcare, housing, and dependent on your marketability. Endorsements by major brands are now necessary for athletic advantage and generally a collegiate education is the way to get there. Unless your sport peaks at particularly strange times–gymnastics being less than 18 for global representation and triathletes commonly beginning their athletic journeys much later than most, by your early 20’s, you’re tapped out of potential. Which means that, from a very early age, you’re subject to representing a variety of brands on a state, national, or potentially global scale. 

But how do you sift through that to determine what YOU stand for? 

& When would you have the time? 

Sponsorships by something like food companies that allow you to eat better quality, healthier meals for free (or reduced) prices are a huge advantage, particularly since the American education system teaches so little about proper nutrition and our government subsidizes areas of the food industry that are less healthy for the American consumer. So, you’ll likely jump at the first contract you get, especially if you barely make over the poverty level of financial income from the season, even if the company is unethical, or doesn’t support your values, all because the promise of being the 1% of people that can get that money gives you hope that you can not hate your life so much, and thank you to Arianna for finally putting it out there that “whoever said money can’t solve your problems must not have had enough money to solve ‘em.” One brand builds into multiple sponsorships and hopefully these corporate brands don’t drop you when you speak out in favor of your own safety, health, or experience–even when it’s the morally and ethically “right” thing to do.

But this is America, the same country that allowed Hobby Lobby’s CEO, a religious conservative, to deny healthcare coverage on the basis of sex and his own personal religious beliefs to all of his female employees, despite Hobby Lobby being a national corporation that largely serves a customer base of females. Who am I to determine what constitutes ethics? Or where to draw the line? “Only God can judge you”, but “God” isn’t the only one who has to face the consequences of your actions. Whatever helps you sleep at night. 

And particularly right now, America is claiming outrage over our “pedophilia” problem as if this is new? Or that Trump is somehow exempt from these corrupt circles of millionaires and generational wealth despite being from them himself? Or that our pageantry circuits, cheerleading, gymnastics fixation wasn’t somehow capable of being massively exploited? Is it even capable to reduce exploitation in a world enshrouded in greed? We have Larry Nassar sexually assaulting HUNDREDS of young girls, for YEARS, often WITH THEIR PARENTS IN THE SAME ROOM. It’s shuddering to think that could’ve very easily have been one of those girls had I taken just one different step in life. 

If college is your route, to get recruited you likely needed to be able to afford their costly summer camps, and have transportation to/from on top of the expensive costs of your travel select team, your own vehicle and gas, because your parents just couldn’t justify driving 1.5 hours in rush hour traffic after your high school practice to get to travel ball. They had 2 other children to think about (and pay for). Rarely do you hear the true underdog story any longer. You grew up on “Backyard Baseball” thinking you were going to be Pablo Sanchez and instead you realized you were in “Dodgeball” facing the Purple Cobras, only you didn’t catch that rubber ball flying at you, you watched it zoom at your face with your hands tied behind your back and no way to defend yourself. So when the kind stranger that is Jerry Sandusky desecrates your innocence in a Penn State locker room, only to be hidden for years because it was easier to pay off people and “hope for the best” than to actually do the right fucking thing, you stay quiet and thank yourself for him even noticing you. It must make you special. 

Stockholm Syndrome is a fucking bitch. Only it’s not just innocent children being abused for years unable to break free from the memories. It’s the entirety of the American people doing the work and labor to be enjoyed at the whims of others who put in no actual work of their own, yet somehow magically control what happens to the numbers in your bank account. 

Let’s take Lebron as an example. Ringleader of the NBA, gets his dick sucked by ESPN every day of the week even when he’s out of season, well-respected and particularly revered in the tragic light of Kobe Bryant’s death, should’ve never agreed to start the stupid basketball games back up. You can’t tell me the same younger players who were snapchatting from the bubble the shitty cafeteria-style food they had, captioned with “you know Lebron ain’t eating this”, would’ve agreed to play if you had gone on tv and spoke out about sports needing to take a backseat as an example for the health of our nation. He, and every other member of the NBA, should’ve joined in protests, leading teams to peaceful sit-ins to demonstrate the necessity to address the causes when coronavirus and the BLM movements first started. Thinking the solution was to dribble a basketball and shoot it at a plexiglass board is completely forgetting the purpose of sports. 

Bottom line: We need to recenter our priorities as humans.

Think Bigger: The Olympics

The ancient Olympic Games were “a religious festival to honor Zeus, father of all other Greek gods and goddesses”. The athletes were all men and beginning 776 BC, they raced (yay for track! The most underappreciated sport.) The Olympics literally started off as a single race, followed by DAYS of partying. Modern day fraternity tailgates are the closest thing we have to this. 

Then, from 393 AD until 1896, they had rescinded into the shadows, an all-forgotten event, until Athens, Greece once again initiated hosting. 

Since 1896, the Olympics have only been cancelled due to world wars: 1916, 1940, 1944. 

The Olympic Oath, taken by officiants, athletes, and coaches alike, address doing it for the “glory of sport, for the honour of our teams, and in respect for the Fundamental Principles of Olympism.” The values of which are excellence, friendship, and respect with the goal of “building a better world”. With some clever deductive reasoning, the purpose of the Olympics, the foundation of which performative sport in the USA is largely built on, is thus to facilitate comradery in the form of sport. I have a hard time believing the first Olympics, with just a single track race as the competition, would have a several-day-long festival that was an insurmountable dick-measuring contest by the winner who then asserted their physical dominance into every country “just because they can” in some jestering tones for several days. Nobody likes that dude at fraternity parties in modern day, and nobody would’ve liked him then, though Joe Rogan is the type of guy who often gives that guy a spotlight. (I also only say that with the tone of surprise because the USA wasn’t founded in 776 BC, so we weren’t around to take something as cool as the Olympics and Jersey Shore it into that.)

In many countries, sports may be the only way to garner international attention and hopefully, leverage eventual refugee or immigrant status. Every year, the African athletes talk about things like bringing internet to their remote villages, or digging a well for clean drinking water. Distance runners talk about running without shoes and as an epidemiologist, I sit there and picture the videos of guinea worm and other parasitic diseases native to their land their bare feet doesn’t protect them from…but they don’t have access or the money to spend on luxuries like shoes, so there’s no other way. 

Meanwhile, the USA collects our 46 gold medals in Rio and accepts our global title as the “freest country in the world, best in the land, paradise, yadda yadda” all while subjecting an athlete on our own soil, the “land of the free”, playing a sport ONLY played within the United States, to public condemnation, despite the fact that the NFL has an audience of 16.67 million fans per year IN PERSON and then an additional 16 million network viewers EVERY SINGLE GAME for the message, on BEING MORE TOLERABLE OF 13% OF OUR NATIONAL POPULATION, A POPULATION WHICH ONLY EXISTS BECAUSE WE STOLE THEM FROM THEIR OWN CONTINENTS, SHOVED THEM ON WOODEN SHIPS FOR MONTHS, AND THEN WHIPPED THEM INTO SUBMISSION TO DO THINGS LIKE PICKING FUCKING COTTON IN THE SAME LAND YOU NOW PLAY FOOTBALL ON, to potentially reach and resonate with. Somehow, though, the idea that we win more gold medals in a sporting competition is attributable to global success. It preserves the idea that democracy is the best thing in the world. But who are we trying to prove that to–other countries? Or ourselves? 

The same people who howled in delight at Tom Brady and Gronk playing footsie in a kiddie pool, really highlighting their retirement to Florida with their season-starting loss devalued cultural awareness and COULD because as a nation, we set forth this forward public image of how that kind of behavior being socially acceptable and have lost sight of what kind of example we are setting forward for the world. And how do we condemn our international rivals like Russia or China for genocide when our own government is guilty of the same thing? And if we know that countries like Russia are doping and going to continue finding ways to cheat, why are we still trying to race alongside them in these desperate Olympic bids of superiority? That very mentality is what ended in Chernobyl. So why would we ever focus so largely on whether one of their athletes can jump half an inch further than one of ours and why should we set a global precedent that we permit that kind of behavior? Or encourage it? At what point do we as a nation step back and analyze our sports culture and say “this is not the example we want to set for the youth of America or the rest of the world”.

We have IOC rules in place where you could only represent your Country’s Team’s sponsoring brand–even if the brands that sponsor you every other moment leading up to you qualifying for that Olympic team are ethically-sourced, sustainable, local, and way more in need of the exposure than Nike. And the athletes, the source of the exposure for it all, didn’t have a say. Nevermind the greater discussion of what the Olympics represents– friendship, respect, a better world. Channeling global energy into sport, which, again, is supposed to be FOR FUN. Before platforms like instagram, snapchat, only fans, whatever your vice is, the only method for exposure was being photographed and seen. So why have we as a nation, the proponents of a “free world”, consistently silenced that in this modern age of technology and the ability to share your voice? Isn’t that the point of democracy? To share opinion? But who structures where “moderation” lies? Is it the voice of someone who created his image around a sport glorifying gore, encouraging violence and bloodshed for the sake of entertainment? Joe Rogan epitomizes that mentality. He’s been a contributing part of it. 

MMA Is Problematic

As such a ferociously talented athlete across so many different sports, I like to think my opinion that wrestling is far and away the most difficult sport–on par with only gymnastics, for women, holds a bit of weight. I certainly won’t get any refuting from wrestlers. (Although women also wrestle too now, which is pretty freaking cool, and men do gymnastics.) Still, wrestling is one of the oldest forms of combat, existing across the globe regardless of geographical boundary or cultural values, and can even trace its Olympic reign to the ancient Romans and its actual origins being present even in cave drawings. (Anyone else get a sad twinge at the reminder of Jon Snow showing Daenerys proof of the white walkers in Season 7-8 of Game of Thrones, there?) Despite loving to touch on my themes of hating the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, there’s something undeniably MASCULINE about having the physical strength and mental wit to submit your opponent. I should know, because I spent 8 years on-and-off getting physically submitted (oh, so fucking willingly) by the man who very well may be my Achille’s Heel at some point. 

Wrestling is undeniably commanding respect. It has honor.

Mixed Martial Arts, on the other hand, in capitalist America, is anything but. Most of my friends, also in their mid-to-late 20’s, who listen to Joe Rogan, listen as a result of his involvement with Dana White and the UFC. And don’t get me wrong, I think martial arts are cool. I love the intensity with which they are studied, the necessity of mental focus. I hope my next venture in life includes some grappling training, should I find an outlet I actually feel comfortable trying that in. I watched my dad and brother freak out over the Rocky movies as a kid. I just couldn’t really grasp why anyone would opt to get the physical shit beat out of them or why it was glorified. Men are truly interesting creatures.

Now, I’ll give it to you. Is humanity predisposed to be drawn to gore? Is it even possible to thwart human nature into being “good” in any sense? Shouldn’t it be better that we fulfill that need to create havoc, chaos, or war and channel it into sport? 

Hear me out: our goal should be peace. Any sport that requires a level of gore to that extreme is no longer a sport. There is a reason it is called “Cage fighting” and you are no better than those poor dogs the world has seemingly forgotten Michael Vick abused, all because he was decent with a football. The only reason “we” value the level of bloodshed and dehumanization of that as a culture is because we still cling to our patriarchal values blindly. We shouldn’t encourage it…for both medical reasons and psychological. 

Patriarchy in the United States

Because of the American Revolution (1775-1783) and our social distancing from the Kingdom of Great Britain, Americans like to assume the world began in 1776 and anything over a ~100-year-timeline seems out-of-touch, unthinkable, and surely not still happening in the world. Definitely not worth mentioning in the news and any suggestion that we approach things rationally and with logic is met with some bitter disdain from an only-slightly-more-privileged class that would still benefit from all of it. This centric-thought process is a similar fallacy to the first “scientists” (people in modern day who liked to sit around, maybe smoke some weed, and ponder life’s mysteries, not unlike Joe Rogan) who proposed the earth was the center of the universe, or how white Americans can’t seem to grasp that just because they don’t witness something happening personally, doesn’t mean it’s not a completely valid concept. I saw a meme that said something along the lines of “I don’t understand Korean but I still know it’s a legitimate fucking language” and it really resonated. 

To some of you, it may be surprising to hear that I fully 1111111110% support our US military. As much as I disdain the patriarchal cycle of sexism, I appreciate the security of a strong military. I’m not an idiot, I know what horrors of the world are out there. I grew up on army bases, my neighbors were secret service, I had helicopters landing in my apple orchard like it was normal. Sleeping on the floor of the pentagon was a fun “treat”. Despite my daddy issues and still living under the reign of heteronormalcy, I embrace our military whole-heartedly. It keeps us secure, but just as often as we have used it for the “common good” of our civilians, we must also acknowledge the obvious flaws in its historic abuse of human rights. Vietnam was a disaster because our development of Agent Orange skirted the Geneva Convention Guidelines by the premise of being a “defoliant” instead of a “corrosive biochemical warfare”. My grandfather was living proof of that, existing with blood clots on his lungs from inhalation of the noxious fumes. But then the Gulf War happened and the military was in the good graces of the American people once more. Look, I get it. If we don’t fight wars on other people’s lands, then we’re going to have to fight them on our own. 

But MY point is our military has an equally treacherous history of getting involved SOLELY for personal gain, which we will now be answering for DECADES to come because of the generational trauma we’ve instilled upon regions and just “hope” they somehow magically grow up to not hate us over. Sounds like my biological father’s logic to parenting. In the age of technology, this is just not sustainable. We need to acknowledge the results of our actions and cultural values. Prior to the dissemination of information, the military didn’t have to answer for it as much. Which, seems logical, particularly when travel was far less frequent, we didn’t even know if the Earth was round (some of us still don’t, Kyrie Irving. How’s that Duke education working out for ya. #GDTBATH). We can’t just exhaust our own resources at whim and leave ourselves vulnerable, right? So, our military became focused on controlling the narrative. Our media became dramatic, sensationalized fiction, and our presidency has since become reality television instead of actual reality. 

However, our military culture, despite being responsible for the technological boom that it is today via the commissioning of Licklider to develop the internet, thrived off of misinformation and distraction of human attention. Which it did well before technology, as well. In WWII, we had Japanese internment camps, yet slapped an apology on it on the basis of “war hysteria”, $43,000 in today’s money (maybe enough for a down payment on a house?) and tried to move about our days. We’ve long disguised questionable immigration policy as “protecting American workers”, even though we branded our nation under the “Field of Dreams” mentality, yet after building it, now suddenly DON’T want others to come? Not to mention the fact that we had the audacity to “grant” Native Americans citizenship in 1924 as if it was some victory, or as if they weren’t here long before the rest of us were, even though they couldn’t even vote in several states until 1968. Imagine constantly being relocated at the whim of some random person in fancy pilgrim clothes like Cam Newton in his COVID-NFL debut that  was inevitably painful, tragic, and awful, yet somehow THEY were the savages? Fuck this, Pocahontas was absolutely right. We should have a new generation of horror films focusing on the survival or death stories of some of these grievous racial injustice moments throughout US history from the perspective of the hunted. They might exist already. I’m too much of a weenie to watch horror movies alone and I’ve lived alone for ~4 years now, so it’s very possible I’m just out of touch. 

With technology being so closely intertwined with military advancement, suspicious cultural changes have become harder and harder to spin in a positive light. 

World War II had reassured everyone we disagreed with white supremacy, and publicly fought against Nazi values, yet Nazi’s flocked to Charlottesville, Virginia and were welcomed at our current president’s campaigns for re-election. With the 1936 Olympics and Jesse Owens’, the black US track phenomenon, gold medals symbolized that the world disagreed with eugenics. We PUBLICLY disagreed with dehumanizing others from a global perspective, but kept our barriers in place within the bounds of our national lives. 

In between periods of war, Americans were just content enough for the stability, the peace, the consistency, that they didn’t have the energy to question why they kept having it disrupted. The early 1950’s was Korea. The mid-1950’s until the mid-1970’s was marked by Vietnam. Then, the nuclear threat, the Space race, and physics became plastered across newspapers, broadcast even on the novel television! The Soviet Union, the remnants of which are still some of our most flaunted Olympic competitors, were clearly established as a threat to our national security. Total domination over them in whatever ways we could would secure our position within the world. 

The entertainment industry continued to develop, and the 1975 predecessor of UFC emerged with the Rocky film starring Sylvester Stallone as the “All American” symbol of blood, sweat, and tears born in Philadelphia, land of the Liberty bell, in July of 1945. For those who don’t know, Rocky embodied the US resilience of never giving up, overcoming obstacle after obstacle. Over the course of five movies, eventually it was acknowledged that the glorified boxing career and misplaced value on blood, sweat, and tears over physical health, because the reality of what it means to live in a “developed” world means that it should, realistically, NEVER come to resorting to that, resulted in brain damage–the kind “that was normal for boxers”. 

I’m sorry. But What? 

With CTE and criminology discussions involving repeat abusers’ brain development, especially the KNOWN psychological profile that serial killers have often experienced repeat head traumas, why are we encouraging such devastation for the sake of “sport”? I understand needing to be able to defend yourself and training for such adequately– but what are we teaching people if we allow people to be “purchased” for a fight, gambled on, and flaunt that lifestyle as desirable, even when Conor McGregor is in the news for some despicable act. Or when they might literally die on screen, broadcast to millions, including even their children? Don’t even get me started on Jon Jones. The necessity for an easier life and financial security should never be so desirable that you incentivize wanting to inflict brain damage on someone for fun. At least WWE is scripted, fake, and centered around acting. 

But anger is the one emotion that men have universally been allowed to show with a military patriarchal system. 30-40% of police officers were even involved in incidents of domestic violence. My grandfather, a New York City cop, took a strong hand to parenting. My other grandfather, a colonel in the US Army, took an even stronger one. But they had stressors, their jobs were hard, it was always a “mistake” or “justified punishment” and sports let them get out that frustration, that anger, that loss when they had to keep it together every other aspect of the day: set forward that strong example. We just “accept” that men are like that.

So how can we fault them for enjoying endorsing it with addictive behaviors, gambling, fighting, drugs, when there’s nothing wrong with a little indulging from time-to-time? If sports is one of the only major ways the American male has been permitted to show emotion for something without feeling the bounds of public scrutiny for the “vulnerability” of their emotion, how can we condemn the most barbaric, raw, “return to our roots” facade that is the MMA circuits, the NFL, etc when these people are adults willingly entering into these contracts? How many Chris Benoít tragedies is it going to take? How many Aaron Hernandez situations? OJ Simpson? Our love of glorifying the bloodshed that is the UFC, NFL, and professional sports when we reduce it to “just a game” is perpetuated by the leaders of our nations only representing military service values and “don’t ask, don’t tell” style “progressiveness”. God forbid we acknowledge a weakness to the world, even when not doing so actually weakens our citizens.

We need to begin setting a precedent that men do not need to be these macho Arnold Schwarzenegger-style meat heads who insert themselves with relevance into every facet of culture with the misplaced confidence that your opinion must surely be the right one, as white men are prone to do. We need to move away from that method of debate as a nation. We need to remember the collective pause quarantine offered and how, bottom line, promotion of physical and mental health should be a priority. Our sports culture should, logically, serve as a huge database for that. But we are never going to move towards that with a moderator whose cultural fanbase includes a large section of viewers who subscribe to the riches of violence. Of chosen barbary. Nevermind the wives, girlfriends, children, viewers who have to watch your inevitable, and almost assuredly mental spiral and have Stockholm Syndrome into thinking it is “valiant” that the father of their child would put himself in the risk of brain injury for financial luxury. 

But is there even a way to limit violence? How do we know it isn’t inherent to human culture? Even the bible portrays humans as susceptible to sin? 

It isn’t about removing violence altogether. I’m not saying we need to completely disband UFC or stop MMA. 

It’s about removing glorifying bloodshed whenever it isn’t necessary. Of not showcasing that as a possible priority to the American people in a time where unity should be held above all. 

Encouraging violence roots deep with our military pride, though, and existed long before modern gaming systems flooded male feeds. Fun fact: the CIA even delved deep within World of Warcraft at one point. There’s definitely a reason I play Call of Duty, and do everything male-dominated when possible. I learned tactics of how to infiltrate and dismantle from an early age. But gaming systems weren’t making our children more violent. Nor would taking them away solve anything. Our cultural emphasis on military history had already secured that hundreds of years prior and it will continue to exist for generations to come. Yet, we pointed the finger at the technology because holding man accountable is blasphemous. How dare we learn from experience. 

With technology, the dissemination of information, accessibility of global travel, and necessity for action, particularly in light with what we know about global warming, climate change, and environmental values of the importance of conservation, it should be our global priority to promote peace, education, sustainability, and collaboration. We have the accessibility, technology, and education to do it. We need to quit pretending like letting some states live in the modern world and some exist on a Westworld style loop of the nostalgic commodity is permissible. We shouldn’t set a standard of devaluing life at the crossing of our border. We definitely shouldn’t be carrying out forced sterilizations on ICE detainees in the state of Georgia, an act of which is going to be referred to under the context of “genocide” once the inevitable dozens of other whistleblowers step forward into the national spotlight, only to soon dull our senses with overstimulation. That’s the world that making politics a game of chess has become, only highlighted by the proposition of this debate at all. We’ve always fixated the spotlight on the lunacy instead of the bigger picture. 

And the bigger picture is humanity. 

And as humans born within the United States of America, we are thrust into an international political spotlight that was chosen for us due to the nature of our familial history, and just like Kourtney Kardashian, at one point we may have been along for the ride, but we’re now being faced with the necessity of getting the fuck out of the influential mess we’ve created to devote time to what really matters. 

And what really matters is supposed to be love. And empathy. And being able to spend the time not worrying about your physical safety, your mental or physical health, or the thousands of those who you know are going to experience the same level of torment that you’ve experienced. Nobody who has been abused and has actually healed wants someone else to go through what they had to go through. That doesn’t mean forgiveness and complete disregard, either, but it means acceptance.

And as citizens of the USA, we need to start accepting that there are always going to an insurmountable amount of international threats, thanks to DECADES and GENERATIONS of white, conservative colonialism. We legitimately owe it to the world to undeniably encourage peace above all. Which means not acting like the sore fucking loser when our Olympic medal count drops because Lebron and the boys need to stay home and protest in Lafayette Square instead of resuming to their petty games as long as they’re “wearing t-shirts that say the names”. And protests don’t have to be loud. In fact, some of the most prolific moments in history were silent. The Greensboro four were so incredibly effective because they gave absolutely no excuse for their stance to be undermined. 

Do we think we’re going to mend any international relations by condemning all muslims as terrorists? You realize we’ve had about 5 or 6 white domestic terrorist incidences since, including what I would argue is the current state of the presidency because causing now generations of Americans to question science and logic, returning to eugenic-driven values of “Patriotic” education, Uterus collectors in state-sponsored facilities in Georgia pulling women from cages and removing their reproductive rights, is surely going to create a significant amount of broiled hatred within the bounds of our own country. You’d have thought we would’ve learned.

To all of the Christians–Mary and her lil man are knocking at your inn’s doors and you guys are turning her away. She’s gonna have to suffice birthing Jesus in some mangy stable all because you didn’t want to admit we have a “hospitality” problem in this nation structured around our necessity to compete: militarily, economically, athletically, whatever. We have to be the “best”. 

And being good at stuff does breed hatred, so maybe hate for the USA is inevitable. It breeds jealousy, contempt, anger, from those who have less. They don’t see the work that goes in behind the scenes, the practices, the workouts, the sweat, ice baths, lonely cries, wondering if it’s all going to be worth it. But why would we want other countries to suffer in the same way that we did? Why does our corporate strength cry that jobs are being outsourced yet not question why our citizens can’t afford the cost of goods in a way that affords a reasonable living wage for our workers? Why are we accepting that the same sports companies we revere–Nike especially, has exploited fast fashion and sweatshops. Or that Jeff Bezos can exploit the majority of the world and just not give back to it in any proportional rate? It’s 2020. We know that is not acceptable. It’s time to speed it up. 

We’re never going to achieve peace, the ability to rest comfortably for years on end without the looming threat of an ill-conceived draft, if we continue to pretend like the way we’ve treated other nations isn’t criminal. But you don’t get that with a host who paved his way commentating modern day gladiators–the people who have no other focus in life they can possibly see as a more constructive use of their time than wanting to achieve glory just to be a showy celebrity, parading around in their boxers and exposing themselves to unsuspecting women in bars. Or the ones who get pulled over once, twice, THREE TIMES YOU’RE OUT! At the old ball game of the heart of America’s issues, where we tried to pretend like sequestering prostitution and gambling to a cheap, knock-off version of the wonders of the world and selling it as “magical” was going to prevent addictive behaviors from occurring elsewhere in the land. 

The American people aren’t gladiators who chose to step into that ring, getting beaten down into submission, grappled into torment, your stats flashing across the screen, watching compartmentally removed from the violence. 

We need to stop treating their lives like a sport and confront the reality of the world we want to foster. 

Political History within the USA

The Declaration states “All men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”

Our culture of rights was solidified with extending it to white male property owners, from there on out marking a culture bound by valuing everything at property level, disregarding non-tangible, abstract concepts such as sentiment, intellect, and arbitrary worth. At the time, only 6% of the population was able to vote under these requirements. 

Slaves, or virtually the majority, if not all, of black people, became representative of 3/5ths of a person for HOR representation. And despite the Bill of Rights, 130 years of courts subjectively determining a “person” was still only people with property, or white men, showed that mentality was not a thing of the past, even with their supposed “rights”.  

In 1807, women were specifically excluded from voting through an unconstitutional act, yet the sentiment fell on deaf, all-male ears in court. My own grandfather would continue to embrace that judgment to me, well into the 2000’s. 

The American Civil War of 1861-1865 passed, a war within our own borders, amongst our own citizens, amassing bloodshed of nearly ONE MILLION of our OWN citizens. Our industrialization of war also set the stage for military prowess globally in WWI, WWII, and so on. This war alone is arguably the rock skipping across the pond, the stage 1 of the Butterfly effect, the moment the camera pans out and goes “so you’re probably wondering how I got here” like Emperor Kuzco in the Emperor’s New Groove, sad llama form and all. My great-great-grandfather was a POW and Union general in the Civil War, and our family home in Missouri is apparently a historically preserved landmark now for its use as a hospital during the war.

…I’ll admit, I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t on the “other” side. 

Let’s not forget Susan B. Anthony used this time to once again, point out the hypocrisy of the Equal Protection Clause not being inclusive of women.

1920’s, came and went. White women could vote. Finally! My people!

Susan B. Anthony still could not. 

1964 accompanied the Civil Rights Act, so black people could finally vote without restriction. Do we think people magically changed their opinions, though? No.

2008 marked the first African-American president, and we’ve yet to see a female leader. 

In fact, our closest chance to a female leader, an undeniable symbol of feminism for generations of future women in the United States for hundreds of years to come, was Hilary Clinton. It was a joke. Laughable at best. The Democratic Party threw up their “next in line”, someone they thought would be a symbol of the “puritan work ethic”, and women were met with a symbol of complicitness in an era of #MeToo, where silence is not enough. We were taunted with the choice of a woman who publicly humiliated another young woman on national television who was in a submissive position to HER HUSBAND, the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, to set the example for generations of young women in the USA? You have got to be kidding me. 

Nevermind the fact that she remained married to the man, throughout her campaign on “feminism”, and remains married to this day. (Though I operate under the assumption that she doesn’t want to have to testify or reveal any secrets about their marriage and it’s far too complicated to ever unweave at this point). Also, I’m an open marriage kind of gal, I can even be persuaded to see growth and forgiveness after cheating, (namely because I think people are inherently selfish in this day and age) but a large issue with our culture is our politician’s inability to be more transparent about their ACTUAL perceptions. That political guy in Florida found in the hotel room with that male stripper who OD’ed checked himself into rehab instead of highlighting the Miami LGBTQ community’s struggle with HIV/AIDS and proper use of PrEP, or the commonality of the swinger lifestyle. But no, we had a woman who still publicly stood by her husband after running on a platform ALMOST SOLELY ON IT BEING “TIME” FOR A WOMAN. This is like, how obnoxious it is when every single “girl power” movie has to go out of its way to stress the “girl power” theme. If you have to assert your dominance, you probably don’t have any. You can’t endorse girl power and womanhood but not publicly address the concern over setting an example to young women that staying with a cheater is okay, or that you shouldn’t have further contributed to this woman-hating narrative, fuck the culture. The introductory 3 blog posts that spiral into my Ghislaine Maxwell/Jeffrey Epstein rabbit hole of a childhood should explain exactly why I hate her so much. My logic at the time kept weighing “I can deal with another shitty white male, but I can’t have the first female president be this” with “what could possibly actually happen in just four years”. Even with all of those heavy considerations, I could not have imagined the breakdown of our democracy into our current situation. I thought it was insane that my sociology professor cried and talked about creating a “safe space” in her office for anyone who was uncomfortable. Yet, four years later, I’m still like, “THESE are our choices?! THESE? What the actual fuck.”

And the political history in the United States, that Constitution that people who still support Donald Trump and the GOP love to wave as a “perfect set of guidelines” on the basis of their religious values are completely ignoring the fact that those same political idols of theirs wanted the separation of church and state. Which means not voting on the basis of religion. Yet, our political history is still undeniably warped by white, conservative, Christian values–a fact we can ALL admit just by objectively looking at the legislative development of the United States code of conduct for not being shitty human beings in 2020. 

And that “if you have to TELL someone you’re in power, you probably aren’t”? That’s how I feel about “religion” as a whole. You lost me for good when you were overjoyed by Justin Bieber endorsing a Megachurch pastor wearing $3,000 Yeezy’s in the state of Texas, even though that same church is pro-life, despite science PROVING that pro-life legislation increases the rates of infant and maternal mortality and you also claim to care about saving babies. I’m sorry, but no. The “Republican” political party has become hypocritical at its heart. Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s body isn’t even cold and yet the Grade-A Certified Cunt, and NOT the Wet ass pussy Cardi B/Megan Thee Stallion goddess kind, that is Mitch McConnell wants to vote her successor in despite that same logic being presented to him as why a similar vote was postponed until the 2016 election was complete.

So I struggle, because 65% of our total population is still willing to believe the word of a book because they believe in the spirituality of “goodness” on faith alone, but won’t believe scientific fact on systemic cultural issues rooted in the foundations of our society, so when the opportunity to actually vote for “goodness” and programs that promote a more sustainable earth, a better community, properly coordinated healthcare, is presented to them, they make up some excuse as to why they prefer it to be the “individual’s choice”, even though there’s 200+ years of research as to why that does not work in just our country and THOUSANDS of years of research for why this doesn’t work in civilizations across the globe. The only reason we even have foundations like the EPA is because we had to FORCE chemical industries in Toms River, New Jersey to stop purposefully disposing of hazardous waste improperly, allowing it to seep into the watershed and cause a significantly higher incidence of childhood cancer. But with “small government”, the EPA wouldn’t exist. Do you actually want to save the children? Assuming the world is good is a naive way of thinking that is just harmful to those of us who had to learn that the hard way. The Catholic Church sector of Christianity couldn’t even save their own children. In fact, they were shielding the abusers from punishment because they were worried about the PR on the faith. That’s not appropriate.

Additionally, if you are voting in an election, not even for YOUR OWN RIGHTS, but for your ability to have control over someone ELSE’S rights, you’re no longer voting for “individual” choice, you’re voting for control over someone else, call it what it is. But that’s hard with a religion that stresses the importance of the individual, because it really is true that in an emergency situation, you can only be helpful if you take care of yourself first. (The old “oxygen mask on an airliner” analogy.) Still, we need to recognize the necessity to employ other people with the tools to make decisions over themselves. We can’t leave things like mental and physical healthcare, protection from the law (which, also, is supposed to HELP us, the law is literally supposed to PROTECT citizens… we shouldn’t need protection from it), the ability to afford housing, up to “faith”, because this is reality, not some idealistic delusion. And unlike delusion, in reality, we have the ability to change it, but we first have to accept it. 

Despite other countries with impressive quality of life, longevity, and distribution of health indicators existing, we refuse to acknowledge our own system needs to be revitalized because we’re scared to admit that we were wrong. But isn’t religion based around forgiveness, and acceptance, and learning as you grow? You constantly revisit the same text and get new context from it, so shouldn’t we normalize the same thing with society? The fact that Megan Rapinoe, a KNOWN LESBIAN, would receive any kind of backlash for using her position to highlight the reality of the LGBTQ+ population is ridiculous and the fact that our media would glorify that, encourage the divisiveness, and for this to be “normal” is just pathetic. We can’t keep claiming to be so advanced as a civilization when we only legalized gay marriage federally in 2015!

But 65% of the population is centered around Christian values, and that may seem like a lot–it’s certainly still the majority, so why should we change that at all? Let’s think about what that means in other terms. It means that out of every 5 Americans, roughly 2 of those are going to NOT be that way. They’re going to have different values. Does this mean they are terrible people? Fuck no. Objectively looking at all of the religions around the globe, there are a lot of fucking similarities. Concepts of a higher power only differ in WHO or WHAT that higher power is. Themes of morality, righteousness, being the best version of a human tend to involve similar themes. (I personally don’t feel the necessity to characterize what I think influences the universe. I accept that as a human, I don’t need to know all. Ignorance truly is bliss. I’ve had near death experiences, and there was just peace, acceptance, contentment.) For the life of me, though, I cannot grasp the necessity to feel as if you have to prove to others that what you believe in, which is FOUNDED ON FAITH AND FAITH ALONE (AKA THERE IS NO TANGIBLE PROOF YOU CAN SHOW THEM) “MUST” be the right way. The point is, we should still include those 2 people in things that we do. I’m sure they have a lot to offer. The purpose of the USA being the “best” is that we get to cherry-pick our favorite aspects of other cultures and bring them here to exist in one place in unity. Didn’t any of you watch Zootopia? 

So I guess my argument isn’t so much about just Joe Rogan, or what he represents as an individual. Truth be told, I recognize his comedic worth. I listen intermittently (shout out to Miley for being the bad bitch who can always put someone in their place, you are my idol), but the very fact that he even thinks the general public should want him to moderate a presidential debate under the current state of our country, with what may be one of the most important elections for a global stage of symbolizing what kind of progression we’re going to move forward with (or should I say, backward, because if Trump wins, I am seriously considering seeking asylum overseas, purely for mental health and peace of mind, because I cannot live in whatever Nazi Germany style regime he wants to reinvent) is a travesty. 

Sports have historically paralleled our international relations and cultural movements within our own country. Black men could represent the USA globally before they could even vote. You realize how fucked up that is? Right? Jesse Owens was a symbol of defiance to Adolf Hitler yet would’ve been lynched had he not had his gold medal with him walking through some towns in Alabama. We boycotted the 1980 Summer Olympics to protest Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, yet 31 years later started the “War on Terror”. 

And we do set a global precedence for acceptable behavior. The world does watch us. So no, we don’t need Joe Rogan to debate Joe Biden and Donald Trump like we should further encourage our presidential elections to resemble some mockery that is ESPN’s The Ocho instead of discouraging the circus that has been allowed to perform long enough. We shouldn’t have to debate the topics that will inevitably be discussed: whether black lives matter, is it humane to perform significant surgical operations on prisoners against their will if it removes their ability to propagate or remain in this country, whether we should be protecting consumers, addressing climate change.

This is not the world we want to encourage. 

This election isn’t about a candidate. It’s about our values for humanity. 

SOURCES:


(Do I have to actually publish these in proper APA or MLA citation on a blog? Here’s the links)

https://money.cnn.com/2018/05/18/news/nfl-nba-mlb-owners-diversity/index.html

https://www.penn.museum/sites/olympics/olympicorigins.shtml

https://www.cnbc.com/2019/12/31/nfl-television-viewership-increases-5percent-for-2019-season.html

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/158-resources-understanding-systemic-racism-america-180975029/

https://theundefeated.com/features/athletes-and-activism-the-long-defiant-history-of-sports-protests/

https://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/houston-texas/houston/article/Texas-pregnancy-related-death-rate-among-15017414.php

https://www.pewforum.org/2009/09/09/muslims-widely-seen-as-facing-discrimination3-2/

https://ehne.fr/en/article/gender-and-europe/gendered-body-expression-european-identity/women-and-olympic-games

https://www.history.com/news/who-invented-baseball

https://bleacherreport.com/articles/446420-ten-athletes-who-made-major-political-and-social-statements

https://money.cnn.com/2018/05/18/news/nfl-nba-mlb-owners-diversity/index.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Civil_War

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Football_League

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_rights_in_the_United_States

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_I

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Native_Americans_in_the_United_States

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Revolutionary_War

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Joe_Rogan_Experience

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colin_Kaepernick