The Churning
18Apr/077

I can kill because in God I trust.

You know, it would be cliche of me to write about this Va Tech shooting stuff.  And typically, It would be rather chafing to involve myself in whatever "tragedy" has befallen the local media.  But since I DO live in VA, I guess this is the one time I should say something.

So, some Korean kid went nutso and shot up a bunch of people at his college.  And awile ago, the same thing happened in Canada.  The media jumps on it, looking for a reason or a motive, and most normal folk are concerned about it for about 5 minutes then on to the next grocery list of growing problems we have facing our culture and country.

Here's a perfect example of how crazy I feel when this kind of stuff happens and people try to talk about it with me:

Mom: Did you hear about this shooting thing in at Tech?

Me: Yeah.

Mom: It's terrible.  What kind of sicko kills innocent people?

Me: Well, do you want a real answer or an answer that will make you feel better?

Mom: A real answer (Aren't I the "child" in this situation?WTF?!?!!?)

Me: Well, the fact is mom, everyone is dangerous.  Every person you pass on the street is about 1 step away from losing it.  Why?  Because our world is full of terrible and horrible things.  And some people aren't strong enough to face down the world and come out sane.

Mom: Why doesn't it stop?

Me: Because the media pundits and "experts" tell us to blame it on T.V, Movies, Rap Music and Video games.  Because bullying is accepted and rewarded in our culture.  Because might makes right and eventually the little guy gets tired of taking shit and he decides that instead of living a life full of shit, he's going to excute himself.  But since he's probably a coward (most people are) he needs a reason to off himself.  So he starts killing the people he thinks either did him wrong or are getting a better deal than him.  It's rather mundane and normal when you think about it.

Mom: Well, someone like that should just hurt themselves and not others.  God wouldn't want that.

Me: Well, I guess it's too bad that what we want things to be like and what they are; are two different things.

Mom: How can someone do that?

Me: I could have done it.  I mean, jesus remember when I tried to run those two assholes over in high school?  I just wasn't weak.  And while I hate my fellow man, I hate him for reasons that are beyond the petty "you made me feel bad" type of feelings. 

Mom: Oh.

And the thing about this, is that this guy who killed people was probably a decent guy who broke.  We wonder why this happens like we don't think about strangling someone daily.  Violence is a part of our DNA.  That doesn't stop me from thinking he was a selfish, and weak prick.  It's easy to sink to the level of those who have hurt you.  True strength comes from seeing their bullshit for what it is and deciding it's just not for you. 

Or maybe it's just proof we're all fucked and the end is near.

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8Mar/0718

The Churning is Fucked Up and Fake

This website is so fucked up and fake. I write like I have balls and don't give a shit what people think. But in reality, I'm just a fucked up douche like everyone else.

I always worry about what people think of me. Always. I am completely incapable of being an unapologetic asshole. Herein lies the problem...

I am an asshole. I just can't be honest about it. If people only knew what I really thought of them. Sure, I have a lot of true friends whom I think very highly of. But then there are the rest of you fuckers. The people who could die and I would smile quietly. There are people in my life who I acknowledge - maybe I smile and wave - but inside I'm silently judging them.

If you're reading this and you're wondering where you fit in my silly little brain, here's an easy way to figure it out: If I hang out with you on a regular basis, I respect you and count you as a friend. If I ignore your emails and only see you when we happen to bump into each other, I probably hate you.

Sorry I can't just be open and honest about it. You'll have to figure it out for yourself.

_____________________________

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23Feb/079

All alone, I wonder why you’re helpless. A brain in a room.

It's been oh so long, baby.  Mmmmhmm, yeah.  Awww yeah.  Let's start this up, huh?  Maybe a few light keystrokes.  Hell yeah.  That's nice.  Now, let's punch them a little firmer, huh?  Yeah, right there.  That's fucking sexy.  Uh-oh.  I'm gonna...I'm gonna..

Let's get this started.

Here's the thing....Often, I think about a significant return to blogging.  I think of creating a new site, pimping it out, gaining a small readership and showing them cartoons and hi-fucking-larious posts(No shame.).  Often, I think of inviting some of the quality funny guys I know to blog with me.  I think of the good times we had and wish I could have them again.

Then, I slap myself for being a woman, and then roughly feel myself up. This makes me, myself, feel degraded and violated.  But don't get all "Call a rape center!" on me.  Because I was asking for it, in fact, I deserved it. 

Why?  Because Characters from TV shows have blogs.  Retail Corporations have "news blogs".  For Fuck's Sake, JJ's goddamned DOG had a blog.  Sure, it's cute and novel for a few days, but then when you look at it...it's like they've taken away something that was a tool for people to maybe express themselves in a way that was previously non-existant. 

Now, sure.  There are definitely people that should not have access to any kind of audience, lest they shatter that precarious self-image they have deluded into seeing.  But thanks to Reality TV, lots and lots (and I mean LOTS) of those people are being smashed into tiny pieces on camera and then slow-churned into nice little bits of voyeurism for all of use to gorge ourselves on.  We can taste their failure, self-hate, misery, and complete breakdown of mind. 

But it wasn't all "The misunderstood ramblings of a girl on the world" or "Edges of Darkness layered in Dark Corners of Dark Crybaby emotions and endless hours of The Cure.", was it?

There were some badass bloggers back in the day.  Like this chick Goldie from Austrailia? And This crazy kid, G-fry who went off to college.  or Tubbs from Lousianna.  Or Maine, from you know, well Ladytown, VA.  Shit, what about Mikey? And the entirety of QW's and The Churning link lists?

And while I was thinking about how great these blogs were, I realized in that moment, that we, ourselves, killed blogging.  Not corporations, not television show producers.  We did it.

We did it by allowing ads.  We did it by subconciously (however remotely) expecting that we were all clever, intelligent and talented people who "just hadn't been discovered, yet."  We did it by allowing things like BlogExplosion to breed.  We took something that could have legimately been a resource for better understanding of our fellow humans, and tried to squeeze a few bucks out of it.

I always said, when I started the QW! with J (not JJ mind you, he was last on the cast), we would write things that make us or our friends laugh and nothing else.  We would never censor ourselves, or be fake.  And we didn't.  And while not everyone liked the QW!, we did have a pretty large readerbase.  I think in a lot of ways, we were inspirational. 

And we killed it.  Because apparently, liking guns, making dick jokes, and running a joke campaign for the presidency is considered "being a dirty terrorist".  Yes, folks.  One of our own was insulted, threatened and otherwise abused for having an internet blog and just sharing thoughts, fiction, for entertainment purposes.  And we gave up.  We all quit and headed for the hills.  Out of fear for our friend, and maybe REALLY because we were afraid for ourselves.

 I looked at blogging in that moment, and I saw a dream, a chance and a hope shredded, splayed wide open, viscera and sinew stretched.  Blogging was dead.  As it lay there, clawed at, and fed upon by carrion vultures of our society, I could have wept.  Had I any part of me that was not cynical or bitter or just malcontent, I would have wept.

Sure, maybe I was an idealist, maybe I was an idiot for buying into an idea and believe that people at their core were not just rotten and self-centered. 

Maybe next time, we'll get it right.

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30Nov/0611

Joe’s a Jowling Jowler

jowlingYou're walking around thinking you're all cool because you're in the loop on all the fucked up shit in the world, then suddenly someone walks up and jowls right in your face. That's what happened to me a couple of weeks ago at the Knitting Factory gig.

After our set, I was mingling with friends. My old buddy Joe (my college roomate) walked up to Momo and asked her to take a picture of him. As she framed up the shot, he started shaking his head violently. The flash went off and this was the result (the pic on the left).

Joe explained that it's a goofy trick called "jowling". There's even a website devoted to it - jowlers.com. Here's how it works: grab a camera, make sure the flash is on, aim the camera at your face, loosen up your lips and shake your head side to side, then take the pic.

Don't say I never taught you anything.

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20Nov/0620

On Becoming a Yuppie

american psychoRecently, an acquaintance left a comment on an old post here on The Churning branding me a yuppie. In fact, his exact words were "yuppie scum." I get the reference. Retro punk is cool I guess. But it does seem kind of dated, like saying "keep on truckin" or "tune in, turn on, and drop out."

The term "yuppie" is a callback to an early 80's insult. Initially, the word brought with it connotations of polo matches, country clubs, and expensive German cars. It quickly expanded to include those within its true definition - as a nickname for Young Urban Professional. Any city dweller in his or her 20's and 30's with a little extra money to throw around ended up sliding face first into the yuppie category. I suppose that's where I am now, and because of that I don't take umbrage.

As a kid, I thought yuppies really were scum. I saw stereotypes of these former frat boys in movies like Bachelor Party (Tom Hanks' nemesis) or One Crazy Summer (John Cusack's nemesis) and bought into the hype. Those characters, of course, were complete assholes. The low-income downtrodden good guy is somehow expected to compete with a complete douchebag who was lucky enough to be born into a wealthy family. (That lucky douchbag later became a serial killer in American Psycho.)

I grew up as an outsider. I didn't have many friends, and the small group of friends I did have understood the value of a mohawk or dreadlocks. They realized the importance of a major skateboarding injury. They knew that playing punk rock in front of a crowd filled with moshing 20-somethings was a pretty big achievement for a group of 15-year-olds. So inevitably, I felt far removed from the things that defined yuppiedom.

Nowadays things are a bit different. I still hate radio pop. I still skate and fall frequently. I still play indie rock. But I was also lucky enough to survive college (I was never in a frat). I've gotten married, and bought a house in the city. And after years of struggle, I finally have a job that doesn't completely suck. And you know what? I don't feel guilty. Fuck it.

I'm not saying that I'm trying to reclaim the term yuppie. I'm not proud and I'm not looking for a label. But if you think I'm a yuppie, I'm not going to fight it. I am relatively young. I do live in the city. And I do have a job. Young Urban Professional? Perhaps.

So why the fuck am I writing this? Why do I care? Truth is - I don't really know. Maybe it's because I don't tend to hang out with yuppies. My friends are the same types of people I've always hung out with. People with interests similar to mine - like live music and dive bars. People who tend to "hate yuppies."

If my friends think I'm a yuppie, then they obviously accept it for what it is. They could find other friends if they wanted to. Seems to me I somehow escaped the label in their eyes. So I guess it bothers me when an acquaintance makes an assumption about me. Because I suspect I'm not what he thinks I am.

You can read the actual exchange here if you're interested.

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