Updations and plans.

Well, it's Thursday night/Friday morning and I've managed to not get a costume together. I gave it a lot of serious thought. I even looked through the possible solutions, but nothing really seemed to fly.

In the end, I'm opting for a headband with bats on it. Kitschy and silly, maybe even a cop out, but, to quote Hedwig, it's what I have to work with. At least it's in the spirit. Oh, and I'll be in all black of course, but that's every day for me. Mbopmbopbop.

Now watch me forget even the stupid headband.  Oh well, let's face it; I am a very fat woman with an oxygen tank. People go as people like me for Halloween and win contests.

This isn't going to be a big post. There is a bigger post coming, but I felt like it needed more thought and attention that what I could devote tonight. My brain is jumpy and my anxiety is high. I'm at that point in the Anxiety Cycle where I just want to curl into a ball, rock back and forth, and not talk to people.  It feels like each word I say or even type is being pulled from my body by force of will.  It's a truly shitty place to be.

Anyway, I'm making the best of it. The anxiety state of mind led me to the topic that will be the bigger blog that I post tomorrow or the next day.  As for now, bat headband.  That's about as good as it will get.

Nation of Protest and Counter-protest-agogo

So the Occupy Wall Street (which has expanded to Occupy Everywhere) protest is still going on. I think people believed it would stop after the first few days. They were wrong. You'd think that politicians would realize this was a grand chance to talk to people and gain some voters. Yeah, that doesn't seem to be happening either. Instead, the movement, as movements are wont to do, is picking up haters.

People criticizing and making fun of any group of other people protesting is part of the process. When the Tea Party began their movement, people made fun of them.  Okay, mostly they made fun of their signs.  I honestly think no sign will ever be as classically misinformed and ill-advised than "Teabagging for Jesus."  A bit of advice, before you ever make your protest sign, please consult spellcheck and Urban Dictionary.

There are two things happening as commentary towards the Occupy Wall Street movement that are on my nerves. One of them is this little ditty going around Facebook where it shows some protester holding a sign saying they hate evil corporations, but are dressed all in labels, holding a cellphone, and eating McDonalds. The point, of course, is supposed to be that "clearly you don't hate the evil corps because everything you own is from one."

Everyone who is against the protesters sees this and laughs and feels all superior, but really, the picture proves nothing.  I don't think most people are against corporations in general, just the ones that do horrible things (like gut the environment and chain children to sewing machines, etc). No one is mad because you make money and are successful. People are just pissed off if you did that via the powers of evil.

As for all the clothes with labels and stuff, what were people supposed to do? Make their own clothing? Stop by Ye Local Amish Shoppe and haggle with Joseph over his homemade cap?  You know, either way, people were going to be screwed on the clothing issue. Either they would be criticized for wearing things with labels, or be called hipsters for wearing things without labels.

The other counter protest that is on my nerves is the 53% website.  They are these people who are poor but trying their best to pay their bills and be successful. You get people writing things like, "I grew up poor. I have college loans. I live with my parents so I can save money. I work two jobs. I will get out of debt. My decisions are my own."

Okay, so you're paying off your debt. You're making sacrifices. You're working several jobs. You're doing all kinds of shit to stay above water.  That is just awesome for you.

I'm glad you're a responsible person. I'm glad you're healthy enough to work several jobs. I'm glad you're lucky enough to have them. I'm glad you're lucky enough to have family you can stay with. I'm glad you're lucky enough to have the chance to get out of debt. That's great.

But, despite all your hard work? A lot of the rest of it IS luck. I know people who have worked hard all of their lives who currently have no income. Is this because of decisions they made? Yes, in an existential kind of way, because they did things like trust employers and trust in the system.  Believe me, they know better now.

Listen, I'm glad you could pull yourself up by your boot straps. More over, I'm glad you had boot straps.  But dammit, show a little understanding for the people who don't.

I think one of the the basic mistakes the haters are making is that they believe the protesters are looking for handouts.  From what I understand, in having talked to them,  that isn't the case.  More than anything, I believe they want people to actually take more responsibility.  They want individuals, and groups, and corporations, to realize their actions have very real consequences.

If the corporations what to survive, they should listen.  Otherwise, people may begin to believe that maybe it isn't a good idea to have all the labeled stuff. They may go back to making their own clothing, growing their own food, fixing their own meals.  They may walk away from the phones and the computers and the stupidly expensive coffees.

Though, if they do that . . . I don't think the corporations will survive for much longer.

Put It Back in your Robe, Zeus

I think, as far as I can remember, that I've stayed out of the Deep Fuckery that seems to be DC comics these days. I kind of felt like it was best to just wait and see where the bodies fell and then watch which ones rise back up. I even stayed quite as Starfire giggled her way back onto the scene, because I think a lot of people made strong points about that.

However, now that it has been announced that Wonder Woman will have a new origin story, I just can't stay quiet.  Because this fundamentally sucks.

They are making it to where her father is Zeus. Zeus! One of the biggest rapist in the history of rapists!  This man has no morals, no respect for women, no respect for those who are of lesser station than him, no respect for anything. He doesn't deserve to be tied into the Wonder Woman mythos. It sucks that he's tied into the stories of the children he already has.

It's not that this makes her powers stem from a man. Okay, that is part of it. Wonder  Woman has always been powered by females (either through Aphrodite blessing her or by being gifted from Athena on her creation). To stem her power back to a man is insulting and shitty and undeserving of this character and what she stands for.

The bigger issue, however, has to do with the how and why of this. Having Zeus for a father means that her mother had sex with this total bastard. Which means, unless they make her mother a non-Amazon, either an Amazon was raped by Zeus or for some insane reason that defies the logic of everything this culture stands for, willingly consented to having sex with this rapist fuckwit.  Either is bad.

This is truly one of those times when I'm at a loss as to what the writers were thinking.  How could they possibly see this as a good idea. Oh wait. They claim it was because "everyone needs a father" and "this will make it easier for people to relate to her."

No, not everyone needs a father. Not if there is a perfectly reasonable and, by the mythology of the culture, plausible explanation of why she doesn't have one.  And no, one does not need a father to be someone others can relate to.  What? Do you feel like that unless a man is involved, the character is missing something?  Really? Because she's not.

And what will she get in exchange for this donation of rapist sperm? Daddy issues? Pissed off crazy Hera trying to kill her? Crazy siblings trying to bother her? The same bullshit rehashed stories that we find with every child of Zeus and their storylines?

Yup. I bet that is exactly what we will get.

Post-Apocalyptic Purple Haze

You know, sometimes illusions are nice.  I've been listening to songs from my childhood and reading the posted lyrics. Yeah, a lot of these people were stoned when they wrote this shit, because there is tons of "what the fuck is that?" going on.  And I'm not just talking about the lyrics to "Stairway to Heaven," though they certainly fit into this as well.

Not that I mind. I think a lot of bands suffer greatly whenever everyone sobers up and stops performing under the influence.  Then they just kind of become generic and crappy. Please, for the sake of your art, stay on your drugs.

Or stay chunky. I loved me some Janet Jackson when she was that 15 pounds or so overweight. Then she lost it, found her bellybutton, and lost the ability to be cool. Ever since then, her songs have been eye roll-worthy, at best.

It's also funny how age changes your perspective on things. I remember being a kid and watching videos and thinking they were so fucking cool. I watch them now and . . . yeah, no. For one thing, the drug-induced haze that made for good lyrics, did not make for good video planning. NOT. AT. ALL.

Second of all, what was with all the post-apocalyptic stuff? Did some video director get a good deal on the Mad Max movie sets and just decide to use them over and over again?  Maybe something about edgy about lots of dirt piles? I love the idea of the broken pieces of a destroyed society as much as the next girl, but how many videos can we really see in this future?

Maybe it's because there was this kind of drug-fueled ennui in the 80s that we were fast approaching destruction.  You know the whole Nuclear War thing. I still remember listening to Sting's "Russians" as an 11 yr old and feeling, OH, so serious about it.  Now, the song just kind of sounds judgie . . . like a lot of his music.

But not "Murder by Numbers." That's still awesome.

The Horrors of Childhood: Mask of the Plastic Death Addition

This isn't exactly the same Wonder Woman mask I had as a kid, but it serves the same purpose for our discussion. Of all the horrors of childhood, cheapassed plastic Halloween masks are one of the worst.

What harm could come from a simple Halloween mask? Oh, let me tell you! A lot. Tons. And the horror comes from many levels.

First of all, just look at the thing.  Black eye holes, the small opening at the nose and mouth, the static expression . . . these things look like beheaded dead people.  Yes, I realize it's kind of hard to be alive and beheaded, but you know what I mean.  It looks like some cheap death mask.  Wearing it doesn't evoke Wonder Woman. It evokes DEAD Wonder Woman.

The creepiness of the mask is truly just warning for the dangers to come. The toy maker who created Halloween masks quite possibly also came up with toys called Sack Full of Scorpions and Knife Hat. Those masks are death traps. I'm shocked parents' haven't protested them in droves!  I guess it's one of those things like banning VC Andrews books.  No one does it because everyone assumes it's already being handled.

If you put on a plastic mask, there are two things you notice from the start. The first is that, despite the creepy holes in eyes, nose, and mouth, somehow the mask is difficult to both breath in and see out of.  The holes hit just wrongly enough to make it ill fitting on . . . well, everyone.  They also get hot very quickly.

The second thing you notice is that this death trap has another death trap around it.  As uncomfortable as the mask is, it's going to be quit painful to remove.  See, when you put one of the damned things on, the supermegaultracheap elastic band around it has wound itself around your hair and is going to pull like a bastard when you try and take off the mask.

The other horrors of the mask take a bit of time to uncover.

• The bottom of the mask will hit your neck at a strange angle. It won't seem so bad at first, but as the night wears on, you'll start to realize that the skin is blistering.
• In fact, all edges of the mask can cause chaffing.  If you move against any part of the edge too quickly, it can also cut you.
• However, the cuts won't be as bad or as painful as the cut you get on your tongue if you make the mistake of sticking it through the mouth breathing hole in the mask.  By the way, you will ALWAYS make this mistake.
• Sometimes your tongue doesn't get cut by the mouth opening. Sometimes, your tongue just gets stuck.
• The elastic band is held in place by two staples.  Yes, staples.  No, they don't feel that great if they open and knock against your face.
• If, and when, the elastic band breaks, it will snap back viciously and hit you in the ear.  Interestinly, even over 30 years later, you will still be able to recall the level of hell that pain causes.

Past Halloween, you're stuck with this plastic face version of a Lament Box.  What do you do with it?  Well, you could hang it on the wall . . . but it casts creepy shadows. You could put it up in your closet . . . but at some point, it's going to fall down in your face and stare blankly at you.

You could toss it in the toybox . . . and yes, this doll coffin is where many a Halloween mask end up. They are lost, discarded, and soon sporting rips that distort the already distorted facial features. Eventually, they get tossed into the trash can so they can scare the bejesus out of birds.

Truly, no good can come from a plastic mask.  It's just one shit show after another, often ending in spilled blood, stinging pain, and disturbing imagery. Bad, bad, bad.   We can put a stop to this though.  We can walk past the plastic mask aisles and commit to better and safer costumes. We have the power. It's in our hands.

Unless you lost your hand to some of those plastic masks being ripped open and left to die in a toybox.  But if that's ever happened, then I'm quite sure you know why the masks should never be seen again.

The Horrors of Childhood: Halloween Candy Addition

All of my life, I've heard the urban legends about Halloween. We all know the stories. People put razor blades in candy. People put severed fingers in candy. You get the idea; people mess with candy.

I keep wanting to capitalize "candy."  Feel free to smirk about that all you like.

I'm not going to presume to debunk or validate the "evil crap in candy" legend. I have no idea if it ever happened or not.  The roots of the legend are understandable. There is a certain risk to walking up to the homes of strangers and asking for candy.  The idea that all of them would be goodhearted and generous seems contrary to humanity.  There is almost a comforting aspect to the idea that some of them are sickos, lacing candy with broken glass and razors and LSD.

Although, now that I write that out, it sounds pretty unrealistic.

Who, honestly, would have the time and inclination to buy bags and bags of candy and fuck with it?  Think about it. You would have to open every damned candy and stick a razor blade in there.  This means you have to buy rather large-ish candy, which is quite expensive these days.

You'd also have to buy candy that is easily repackaged. . . which means you would HAVE TO repackage it . . . which seems like a fuckload of trouble.  I'm sure we can all appreciate the effort put forth in trying to screw up someone's innocent childhood, but it seems like there would be quicker and more intense ways to do that.

Okay, so cut out the pre-packaged stuff. What about homemade candy or fruit? Again, this seems unrealistic. I will concede that fruit and homemade "Bag Full of WhattheFuck" would be easier to fill with razor blades or glass or drugs, but . . . well, no one actually EATS the fruit or the "Bag Full o'Whatthefuck" so the chances of someone finding a razor in there are slim.

Let's face it, if a kid has 200 pieces of good candy and an apple, that apple could have 15 razor blades in it and the kid would never get cut. By the time he's eaten all the candy and twitching away in his sugar coma, the apple is kind of rotting.  The next morning it will get tossed into the trash along with all the wrappers from the candy that was eaten.

So here's my theory. There was this parent out there who had to listen to their kids bitching about Halloween for weeks. They debated about costume ideas, discussing it until the parent wanted to pull out their hair. Costumes were made or bought, either way, through the effort of the parent, not the children. THEN, the parent had to herd the children through town, watching as they took candy from the houses, listening to their exuberant little prattle about what they received. All the while, they're having to smell all this candy, knowing that, despite all their hard work, they get none of it.

So . . . when they get home, they tell the children they need to "inspect" the candy for dangers. When the kids ask why, the parent says something like, "Oh, well see there was this one kid . . . in California I think . . . during the '70s. They cut their tongue in half because someone put a razor blade in it."

With horror-filled eyes, the children handed over their buckets of candy, thankful their parents loved and protected them from some . . . I dunno, looming figure of Charles Manson dressed as Mother Goose as he handed out razor-bladed candy, hoping none of the kids noticed how his fingernails were discolored from blood stains.

Anyway, so while the kids were freaking out about this, the parents shifted through the candy and pulled out all the Almond Joys.  They also took the Peanut butter Cups and anything else that looked good. Though, they left a couple of the premium ones, just to make it look legit.

The next day at school, the kids told the story about the razor blade candy.  But, as all stories get embellished, it altered from some random kid from California during the '70s to "one of my mom's cousins" or something. More kids told the story and eventually, it became something most of us didn't believe . . . but maybe kinda did.

And I'm sure someone is going to read this and call bullshit on it. They're going to write me and tell me that they, for sure, know someone who DID eat glass or drugs or whatever from Halloween candy.  I won't argue with them either.  I'm not saying it never happened, just that it's high unrealistic.  That doesn't mean it's impossible.

Although, these days, I bet there are a lot of kids who wouldn't be so freaked out about this. They'd probably take out their candy bar and say, "Oh look . . . candy. And joy! It has a free razor blade inside!"

Because if there's anything we all love, it's that free prize inside . . . no matter how shitty it is.

Does That Mask Come in my Size?

One of the things that sucks about being a fat girl is Halloween.  Okay, the candy part doesn't suck. That's always great . . . unless you end up with those crappy taffies in the orange and black packages.  Those things are truly the fruitcake of Halloween.

No, the part that sucks is finding a damned costume. I think you can see why. Most celebs and things of that nature will either humiliate you more or are beyond the scope of your ability to create. I mean, I love Ursula from Disney's Little Mermaid, but it's beyond my crafting abilities and the white hair would be impossible.

So for the most part, even though I wish it could be otherwise, most of the time, my Halloween costumes are lame as fuck. The fatness, the poorness, and my halfassed planning usually serve to make for one crappy costume.

I've been . . .

• a fortune teller.  This one works pretty well. I have all the gear and fortune tellers can be fat and old and still work as a costume.
• a vampire. Even though everything I own is black and I'm pale as they come, somehow this never quite works. 
• a witch.  This works with ease, but I now find it rather offensive, given this is an actual religious practice. 
• on that same note of offensive religious icons, one Halloween I was the pregnant Virgin Mary. I rested my whiskey glass and an ash tray on my belly.  Our guy roommate at the time played Joseph. He stood around bitching because the baby wasn't his.
• various other things that were shitty and made no sense.  In many cases, even I didn't know what they were supposed to be.

This really frustrates me because I truly should be able to come up with a decent Halloween costume for myself.  It's my favorite holiday, for crying out loud!!

But will I manage to do this? *sigh* Probably not.  I have some good ideas, but more than likely they won't pan out. I'll end up either dressing like nothing or just looking like some damned idiot.  I mean, you know . . . more so.