Opinionated Opinions by a fat, gender critical SWERF N TERF crone from hell. TERF is a slur and a call to violence against women. Woman is not a feeling. Fat is not a feeling.
Used to support the TRA agenda until I got un-woke and learned that TERF is Feminazi covered in glitter. MRA's and TRA's both want to silence and erase women. I'm too bitchy to be silenced and too big to be erased.
This Rhyme Royale was penned by my snarky political alter-ego Sly Fawkes with love to the village idiot currently occupying the White House--as much love as he deserves, anyway.
The prompt was to write a poem about my favorite birds. The bald eagle is one of my favorite birds. This one looks angry.
It's hard for me to type a post about anger without using salty language, but I'm going to keep it clean.
Can I inspire you to open your eyes and see that things just aren't right?
Can I inspire you to see that it isn't right that people should be forced to sleep on the street?
Can I inspire you to face the fact that those people don't "deserve" this?
Can I inspire you to understand that it isn't right for people in the lower classes to be unable to afford decent housing?
Can I inspire you to see that it's wrong for people with disabilities to have to choose between eating and having medical care and being able to earn a living wage?
Can I inspire you to see that it's madness for people to have to be in debt for years for trying to better themselves by getting a higher education?
That it's madness that most higher-paying jobs require higher education but that education is out of reach for the poor?
Can I inspire you to realize that a society of haves and have-nots benefits no-one but those in the highest positions?
Can I inspire you to realize that the only thing "trickling down" is a word that I can't use in a "family friendly" post?
Can I inspire you to understand that the homeless are not "just lazy," that the poor are not "just stupid," that the "welfare queen" is a myth, that only a very small percentage of people attempt to defraud the welfare system?
Can I inspire you to see that very vulnerable people are falling into the cracks and have nowhere to turn for help?
Do you know that many elderly people live in poverty?
Do you know that many single parents live in poverty?
Can you see that there are a lot of people who used to work a "good job" but now need assistance, that the help is not there, that they didn't suddenly become "lazy" and "shiftless?"
Can I inspire you to realize that people with substance addiction issues deserve help, not jail?
Can I inspire you to understand that mental illness is not "laziness"?
Can I inspire you to understand that everyone deserves adequate food, shelter, medical care, and education?
Can I inspire you to understand that service workers are not "lesser" and do not deserve to be stuck working multiple jobs to make less than a living wage?
Can I inspire you to be angry today?
Because until we all get angry enough, nothing is ever going to change.
If nothing changes, things are only going to get worse for all but the wealthiest one percent.
(This post was written on the Deliver Me blog and cross-posted)
Happy holidays if you celebrate them and best wishes for prosperity in the approaching year!
It has been an eventful and not terribly lucrative year here in the World of Nether, but many of our efforts are still in their infancy and I like to think that things are looking up and that perseverance still counts for something. To a degree, these are uncharted waters that we are navigating with the rise of the gig economy. So, what can we do to make this unprecedented situation work for us?
For my own part, I have a knack for speaking my mind, such as it is, and for telling it like it is from my point of view. This has tended to get me in trouble, but the older I get the less fucks I give.
However, I do not intend to use this so-called skill only to bitch about everything that pisses me off. I would also like to use it to help others.
For many years, I worked as a nurse's aide and then a nurse. I helped those who were too infirm to care for their own needs. This included the elderly and special needs children. However, my own constitution declined sharply in the past couple of years, and I can no longer do the physically demanding jobs that I had been doing since 1988.
My income declined sharply when I was no longer able to work as a nurse. Between 2015 and 2017, I was pulling up to $1000 per week if I worked 60 hour weeks. However, I was constantly exhausted and always in a mental fog working this many hours. In some ways I'm amazed that I never made any critical errors.
I am unable to work full time at this point, and my disabilities put me out of the running for most "normal" jobs. Because of my health issues, I need Medicaid. But if I make more than $1100 a month, I lose Medicaid. To me, it seems as if I'm being punished for being disabled. I think that punishing people for being disabled is one whole steaming load of crap. I also think that Charles Dickens would have a field day writing about the current political climate in the era of Lord Dampnut. In fairness, being British, he might be more inclined to write about Brexit and Lord Dampnut's British soul twin, Boris Johnson.
In any case, I am trying to piece together a life that works. Other than being broke and physically unable to do certain things that I used to be able to do without issue, there are many ways in which I like my life after disability better than my life before disability. I like not being enslaved by a time clock. I much prefer soft deadlines to Draconian ones.
Overall, I am a creative rather than a practical person. If I could, I would spend my days writing, learning to draw, engaging in Photoshop Phucquery, hand crocheting, loom knitting, woodworking, making soap and candles, and whatever other artsy fartsy crafty wafty pursuit happened to strike my fancy. I attempt to keep my artsy fartsy side separate from the Deliver Me blog, but there is inevitable bleed-through, and I'm not going to fight the tide too hard.
If you are interested in WAH opportunities, recipes, and suggestions for saving money, visit the Deliver Me blog.
If you are interested in reading high quality Kindle smut, visit the Naughty Netherworld Press blog. This blog is safe for work, but some of the places it links to aren't.
If you are interested in obtaining a Tarot reading to help you kick-start the new year, click here.
May you and yours have a pleasant holiday if you celebrate, or a good day in general if you don't.
I like to think the piece speaks for itself, but I will include a little personal history.
When I was a young child in my early school years, I was very proud when it came time to say the Pledge of Allegiance. I sprang to my large and far from dainty feet, puffed out my scrawny chest, put my hand over my stalwart young heart, and spoke those hallowed words in my biggest voice.
I was born in 1965. I didn't go to Kindergarten. Many years later I had a nightmare that Ronald Reagan ordered me to go back to school starting with Kindergarten. Initially, I attempted to comply, but then I realized that there was no legally binding reason for me to do this and I said "I quit," and walked out of the classroom to the sound of Mr. Reagan's voice berating me as a loser.
From first through third grade, the Viet Nam war was still taking place. I believed that the United States would eventually see that the war was a bad idea and would end it, so I said the Pledge proudly because I believed that my fine country would eventually do the right thing because we were the Good Guys.
During the next several years, the country was healing from the aftereffects of the Viet Nam War. I believed that we were headed in the right direction, and I thought that Jimmy Carter was a fine president and would continue to take us that way.
The Reagan era began when I was fifteen years old and I came to believe that we were all doomed to either eat flaming death in a nuclear holocaust or freeze to death in the nuclear winter which would follow. The Pledge of Allegiance lost its former wondrous appeal to me, but I still said it because I felt it was my duty as a patriot to try and believe in my country.
As my son says, the United States is still one of the best countries to live in, but we have a lot of problems. The election of Donald Trump brought a plethora of pathology boiling to the surface.
We are not post-racist or post-misogynist and we are severely intolerant of anyone who isn't a God-fearing American "Christian." I put Christian in quotes because I don't think the behavior of those who subscribe to the ideals of American religious fundamentalists is Christ-like in any way. There is a frightening new wave of nationalism, and free speech is under fire. There is normalization of bigotry and intolerance.
This is not the America that young me believed in when she put her hand over her heart to proudly say the Pledge of Allegiance every morning at school and even at home in her bedroom on Saturday and Sunday because she thought it was the right thing to do.
This America brings tears to the eyes of middle-aged, working class me as I write these words. I despair for the loss of innocence in the heart of the child I once was and fear for the future of who I have become, for those I love, and for my fellow citizens of this world.
