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Baa Baa Black Sheep

I've just been reading about a friend of mine who was reprimanded in an interview for a police job for using the word 'blackspot' to describe a trouble area of a city. Apparently, blackspot leads to the possibility of being misunderstood as having racist connotations and is unacceptable language for the police.

Ai ya, huai le! What the hell is wrong with people? Black doesn't mean skin colour in every single connotation. When we say someone's a black sheep, it doesn't mean that we think black skin and bad characteristics have something in common! It's simple human linking between colours and feelings - black means bad because it symbolises darkness and night, when ancestral humans were more vulnerable to predators. Blackspot means an area where dark deeds occur; it has nothing to do with black people! Am I even allowed to say dark deeds, or is it inappropriate language because people with dark skin shouldn't be linked with bad things?

I'm aware that being black can sometimes put you in a worse position than being white through institutionalised racism and that sucks ji ba. However, there is no merit in trying to make it better by overcompensating in another area, especially one that I'd bet most black people couldn't give a monkeys about. Any black people reading this blog get overly offended by the lyric, "Baa Baa Black Sheep"? There's no notion of skin colour in there at all, but heaven forfend that we should teach it to our children, cause it's got that scary b-word in it.

Humanity can be so infuriating at times. I made several complaints a while back to the owners of a short story anthology aimed at women, because they only accepted stories written by women, with the subtext of "Men obviously don't have the sensitivity required to write stories that women would be interested in." Other authors I know tried to rein me back by pointing out that women have generally got the short end of the stick throughout history and that this one little concession was nothing compared to the deprivations enforced on them. However, I just do not get that point of view. If you're striving for equality, then you should strive for equality in all areas, rather than forgiving inequality which benefits your group because on balance you're still behind.

And another thing - the row over Wimbledon pay is ridiculous. The women winners get paid less than the men winners and there's a big campaign to equalise the prize money. Why? Because otherwise it's obviously innate sexism and wouldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that the women's matches only last for 3 sets and the men's last for 5 sets. I don't see how the women can possibly claim they deserve equality of pay, when they're doing less work. You can't have selective equality and only equalise the bits you feel like. If you take the attitude that women are less physically strong than men (on average) and thus can only play 3 sets, then that's fine. Saying they should then get equal pay for unequal work is ridiculous! That's why I have so much respect for Michelle Wie, the female golfer who's playing on the Men's Circuit. She's not asking for special treatment cause she's a girl, she's not playing 3/5ths of the holes, she's just going out there and telling people to treat her like an equal. And, by and large, she is, because she's acting like one.

Joss Whedon gave a speech to a charity called 'Equality Now' a month or so back, about how he keeps getting asked the same question - "Why do you keep writing these strong women characters?" He gives about 4 or 5 different answers to an imaginary reporter, getting more sarcastic each time he's asked, before finishing his speech with the response of "Because you feel the need to keep asking me that question." And he's absolutely right. Equality's about acting like equals, like pretending the world's how it should be. Disadvantaged groups shouldn't be treated as different, or given special circumstances. They should be treated like a human being, rather than as an imbalance that has to be solved.

So please, drop the PC shit. Political correctness will never save the world.

The Earl
 
People say people like me don't have any consience. I can't speak for others, but I know I do have one. I have seen many things in my life that have simultaenously delighted and disgusted me. I have done things in my life that I thought would go well, but ended up as much bad as good. I have had to come to terms with many things I have seen and done in this world. It never gets easier. People tell me it's part of being a man. If that's true, then I guess I am a man. Not only that, I am a man who thinks deep and hard about everything he does in his life, sometimes too much. Bravery is one of the most difficult emotions I go through, I deal with it every day. I like to think that every person who has ever influenced me in a good way has been my friend, but of course that is not true. I acknowledge this reality, but always pray for something better. Meanwhile I keep creating satirical stories about perceived realities that contain controversial subjects, and feeling both joy and tremors in my soul as I put them out in the world for others to read. I tell myself I don't have to do this, that it gets me little real benefit, but I am wrong. I am glad I'm doing it. Whatever the consequences may be, I will take them as they come. I know my friends will stand by me, even if the jerks will not. I know someone somewhere appreciates what I am doing. And I know what I am doing makes me free. Therefore I keep on. And I smile even as my head aches.
 
Aurora Black said:
"Monkeys"???!!!! :mad:

I'm joking, damn it! :kiss: ;)

I know, I noticed that when I was c&ping it. Completely accidental!

Achtung: Interesting bit of bloggage.

The Earl
 
Earl: Thanks. I read over some of the soul insights into this thread and was inspired to write my own. I think it well illustrates the mind of the average erotic writer, especially one who handles as taboo subjects as myself. :D
 
It's been one of those days...

It seriously has been one of those days. I have them more often than I'd like. Days where my head feels like it's filled with cotton, and I seem to be looking at everything through a gauzy filter. It's one of those things I have no control over, a leftover from the accident five years ago.

Five years. It's hard to believe it's been that long already, but then again, it also sometimes seems like it happened a liftetime ago. Pain and discomfort has a way of making years drag by so slowly that they seem to each last more than just the mere 365 days they are made of.

Nerves only heal at a rate of an 1/8th of an inch a year. I've never done research to see just how long nerves are. I wonder if five years is long enough for them to have healed totally if they were going to. It's obvious they haven't healed completely, or I wouldn't feel like my head's filled with goose down right now. I'm at the point that I think they've healed as much as they are going to, and I'm stuck with this damage for the rest of my life. At least it's not a constant every day thing anymore. Well, the cotton headed part isn't anyway. I still have every day problems, but I've learned to stay silent about them... mostly.
 
CrimsonMaiden said:
It seriously has been one of those days. I have them more often than I'd like. Days where my head feels like it's filled with cotton, and I seem to be looking at everything through a gauzy filter. It's one of those things I have no control over, a leftover from the accident five years ago.

Five years. It's hard to believe it's been that long already, but then again, it also sometimes seems like it happened a liftetime ago. Pain and discomfort has a way of making years drag by so slowly that they seem to each last more than just the mere 365 days they are made of.

Nerves only heal at a rate of an 1/8th of an inch a year. I've never done research to see just how long nerves are. I wonder if five years is long enough for them to have healed totally if they were going to. It's obvious they haven't healed completely, or I wouldn't feel like my head's filled with goose down right now. I'm at the point that I think they've healed as much as they are going to, and I'm stuck with this damage for the rest of my life. At least it's not a constant every day thing anymore. Well, the cotton headed part isn't anyway. I still have every day problems, but I've learned to stay silent about them... mostly.

<hugs>

The Earl
 
lilredjammies said:
You don't need the eyepatch, I need a brain-patch for posting the wrong journal entry. :eek:

Stop that! At least you have a journal entry to post. I haven't touched mine in maybe a month. :p
 
Here's an entry from the other day:
Tuesday said:
1:02 pm The Lusty Beaver
I'm at Fudd waiting to get my food, and I'm eyeing this blonde sitting across the room and a little in front of me. She may or may not be eyeing me back. At one point, she stands up from her booth to refill her drink when she stands up, spreads her knees over a foot apart, and I get a clear view right up her skirt. She doesn't appear to be wearing panties either. The drink machines are very close to my seat, and that is when I verify through her nearly see-through skirt that she is indeed not wearing any panties. Of course, I couldn't bring myself to say anything to her, and she left with her friend before I was finished eating, but it was such a nice little glimpse of heaven. I enjoyed it quite a bit, and am still thinking baout it.
 
I admit to missing having blue collar hands. You know the ones - the ones that are thick and rough, with blisters and callouses, scarred up from assorted mishaps while working with tools and things. To me, they're a sign of a hard worker. They're a sign that somebody's not afraid to go out and just do what needs to be done, with little to no complaint.

They're honest hands.

I was proud to discover a callous forming on my thumb a couple of weeks ago. It was from the work I was doing in that factory - which I can not do anymore. An injured wrist threw that in my face.

Now that little spot is gone. It hadn't actually gotten hard yet, just started getting to the point that the one area was a little numb. The thicker, hardened skin comes not too long afterward. My hands are pale, thin, and soft. The nails aren't polished, but extend past the points of my fingertips.

This is a disgrace.

It means I've passed the point of being able to go out and do physical labor. I will never again be proud of the fact that my hands, even as a woman, show that I can do the same type of things a man can do.

Maybe what makes this so bad is the fact that I gave up the chance at a more physically demanding job, one that would roughen these stupid hands, to please the man I've come to love. The one I've come to depend on. The second person in my life i've ever offered myself to completely. As a submissive. As a woman, friend, and admirer. i offered to let him own me.

He turned me down. i came up lacking.

Unable to please him enough. Unable to return to the life i loved. Unable to do the same things i've always found comforting.

What good am i?
 
MaeveoSliabh said:
I admit to missing having blue collar hands. You know the ones - the ones that are thick and rough, with blisters and callouses, scarred up from assorted mishaps while working with tools and things. To me, they're a sign of a hard worker. They're a sign that somebody's not afraid to go out and just do what needs to be done, with little to no complaint.

They're honest hands.

I was proud to discover a callous forming on my thumb a couple of weeks ago. It was from the work I was doing in that factory - which I can not do anymore. An injured wrist threw that in my face.

Now that little spot is gone. It hadn't actually gotten hard yet, just started getting to the point that the one area was a little numb. The thicker, hardened skin comes not too long afterward. My hands are pale, thin, and soft. The nails aren't polished, but extend past the points of my fingertips.

This is a disgrace.

It means I've passed the point of being able to go out and do physical labor. I will never again be proud of the fact that my hands, even as a woman, show that I can do the same type of things a man can do.

Maybe what makes this so bad is the fact that I gave up the chance at a more physically demanding job, one that would roughen these stupid hands, to please the man I've come to love. The one I've come to depend on. The second person in my life i've ever offered myself to completely. As a submissive. As a woman, friend, and admirer. i offered to let him own me.

He turned me down. i came up lacking.

Unable to please him enough. Unable to return to the life i loved. Unable to do the same things i've always found comforting.

What good am i?

I can tell you how good you are, damn it. :rose: :rose: :rose:
 
Ooh, my own personal troll! I feel so special...

Sunday, August 13th, 2006

4:56 pm - Holy Smoke!


I've been very busy! It's hard to believe that it's been so long since my last update, but it's also not surprising.

In a nutshell, this is what happened: I started work on my batch of Halloween stories. I went on vacation and wrote my ass off. Had a spat in real life. Returned home and continued to write my ass off. I decided to go pro and sell my stories to different publications. Got incredibly happy (I still am).

Unfortunately, a dear friend of mine got her feelings hurt on the Lit forum yesterday, and that pissed me off royally. While I was helping to address the issue, I learned about the existence of someone who obviously has issues with me. Giant spat, both in the thread and question and behind the scenes. I dodged flames and managed to reply with all the dignity and grace that my mother taught me to use when handling difficult people. I refused to sink to this person's level.


* * *


Here's the bitch's original PM:



You might like to delude yourself into thinking that a new poster doesn't know about you, but you might want to rethink that train of thought. I might not have been registered and posting here for that long, but I have been a participant (if not actively) of the Author's Hangout for quite some time now. You are not as much of a mystery as you might like to believe. I know that you are a singer/performer, that your boyfriend has come up for military service, that your (potentially) future mother-in-law has bad juju for you and gives you a serious headache. I also know that you are completely dramatic about all kinds of things that really don't involve you. I know that you went all berserk in a memorial thread about a passed-on (and well loved) member of the AH when you had barely been a poster long enough to even know who she was or what she was about.

Your youth is about the only thing I can see that you have going for you right now. Your arrogance and propensity for drama are quite distasteful, and wheter you like me or not, I couldn't care less. I happen to think you are a talented writer, and once you get over believing you are God's great gift to everyone, you might well be successful. Until then, grow up!


* * *


My reply:


Thank you for the compliment on my writing. As for liking or disliking you, I have no opinion except that you seem to be a very angry person in general.

Let's dissect this rant of yours so we can clear the air:

First of all, I respected Colly very much. As much as you like to delude yourself into thinking that you're the eyes and ears of the forum, with all due respect, you were not inside my head. You didn't chat with her personally for months off-forum to discuss writing and many other subjects, and you didn't build a friendship with her. Granted, it wasn't anything like what she had with more established members, but it was definitely a beginning. When she died, it was gone, and I mourned that as much as I did her.

None of my grief was fake, and damn you for suggesting that. Who the hell do you think you are?

As for your gripes about my personality, I refuse to apologize for who I am. Healthy self-esteem does not equal arrogance. I know my own worth and I know what I want to do with my life. If that's arrogance, than so be it. I actually don't think I'm God's greatest gift, but apparently you seem to think so if you're going to all this trouble to... what, exactly? Bring me down a peg? Pay attention to you? Make me cry and agree with you?

No way. You're not worth the time and effort to do either of those. I've already wasted several hours dealing with your inane chatter, which was a lot more than you deserve. If I did something to you personally to offend you, I apologize for that. If not, then you're the one who's the asshole in this scenario, and YOU are the one who needs to grow the fuck up.

Have a nice day! Off to the Ignore list you go! Bye bye! :D


* * *


I am sick and tired of defending myself to stupid people. I've been at Lit for almost a year, which is a reasonable amount of time, so I shouldn't have to deal with this shit. As far as I know, I don't go around being snobby to people or asking them to kiss my ass. I just want to be a good writer so I can hopefully make a living. Fuck good, I want to be an excellent writer! Lit is my library as well as my playground, and I've already learned a lot from the people I've met there. It was originally supposed to be just a pit stop on the road to publication, but I found myself liking the environment so much that I wanted to sell stories/book AND stick around in the community. Now, I'm not so sure. I didn't sign up for this shit.
 
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