In Praise of the Meatsack

PatientC, holding a candle lit for mourning.

I am not supposed to love this meatsack. It has been fat. It is now merely slightly overweight. It has born children, it has run races, it has made music, it has been set on fire for the voyeuristic pleasure of the crowd. It has run miles, biked, skated, and driven even though now it is disabled. It has survived use, misuse, the neglect and punishment of loved ones. It has reveled in the love and affection and romantic attention of other loved ones that actually loved me back. Some days it fails the simple task of truly getting out of bed, except to change the clothes on it, make the bed and them snuggle back into nap blankets for the day.

Yep, I refer to human bodies as meatsacks (or meat bags, much love to HK47 & SWTORII).  Few things eat us, but that does not make us any less meat on the hoof. Meat at the top of the food chain is still meat even if it is rarely tasted. It is okay, though, this is not a bad thing. It serves as a reminder that there is little physical difference between our fleshy engines and that hamburger package that expired today but is probably still okay to eat... I believe it is a fairly adequate description. 

Frequently I find that folks, especially disabled folks like me, can end up looking down on these meatsacks, but I happen to be fond of mine. We are not supposed to love our meatsacks. We are not supposed to think about the fact that tomorrow is not guaranteed. Hell, that next breath is not assured, but we like to think that it is. But we are supposed to feel that our meat is bad: too big, too small, too little, too tall, too voluptuous, too slight, too pale, too dark... we are never just right as taught by the world, our schools, our families, our faith, our neighbors. 

Although meatsacks are unreliable they are the way we interact with the universe. Consciousness is not separate from flesh but laced through it, inseparable from it. Meat is our interface with each other, our easiest and most complicated tool, our first tool and our last tool. Yet we disparage, disregard, and degrade it at every turn. 

I do not believe that we are trapped in this meat, but installed in it, built by it, nourished with millions of sensations every day from it. But USisans, Westerners, we are taught to hate it. We use our meat to share our love, our fear, our joy and our pain - we have no idea what we truly are without out meat but I know this: it would not be the same, it would be less.

Common Christian thought teaches that we should hate our bodies. Our reproduction & our mortality are products of Original Sin - only possible by the act of misbehaving in this meat. So we hate and mortify the body to become closer to the Passion experienced by Christ in order to know and love Him in order to enter Paradise and know God. 

Buddhism treats the mind, body, and soul as one item, inseparable. (As I understand it, from my baby beginner Buddhist tuffit.) This item is inseparable from the world it inhabits. This makes much more sense to me. 

All that to tell you, dear Reader, that no matter what the world tells me, I love this meat bag and all it's faults. I try to see it for what it really is, moment to moment, but I cannot imagine trading it or the adventures it has given me for any other meatsack, ever. 

Gun Culture and Privilege

(This is kind of rambling. I apologize. I am swimming through a mess of fog and phlegm with suspected strep throat. Read or disregard at your leisure.)

Wow, gun culture is some taking some swats lately. Some deserved, some not. I do want to say that I do not know a single gun owner that is an NRA member or has two nice words to say about that organization. I know they are out there, let me tell you about my last gun show. I do not really feel bugged by these swats, because I know I am not their target. I only worry that others will think that it is me.

I carry because I am a crippled lady that simply is not able to physically defend against even the average foe. I carried when able bodied because I was a woman driving on highways and country roads at night alone. I have carried because my personal defense is my personal responsibility. My self defense is my own civic responsibility.

And you know what? At the range, practicing to end a life if necessary, I can honestly tell you that 100% of the time I am imagining a white person at the other end of my barrel. Usually a man, but there have been a couple of women in my life that have altered that for brief periods of time.

I mentioned because it keeps sticking in my head. One of the reasons that people fight the idea of privilege is that if you are a woman, or poor, or disabled, or LGBTQIA - it is hard to feel it like the people telling you about privilege want you to feel it. They will point up the hierarchy and say that's who you want to talk to if you want privilege.

This is because there is a funny thing about whiteness: it seems that it must have something to destroy. The days of open colonialism are rapidly closing in favor of "nation building" and "fighting them over there." But our dirty little secret is that in the absence of non-white folk to destroy, in any single or combination of physically, economically, spiritually, mentally; we destroy ourselves. There is no greater cannibal in history than whiteness.

Without a state of non-whiteness to unite against, whiteness turns in and eats itself: the disabled, the non-straight, the poor, the non-Christian, the non-Western, even the non-male get consumed and suppressed. And so, it becomes difficult to explain to a poor, USian, disabled, Wiccan, trans* lesbian that she has white privilege. Because Whiteness, as an entity, only includes her among it's ranks against some Other.

She does have privilege, and it does matter; all of her other states matter too.

I think we need a new vocabulary, one that that can talk about privilege without stigma. One that can acknowledge oppression without pity. A new language, or a new attitude about language needs to be born. Soon. I thought #Occupy would birth it, but it seems not. But maybe something will come after #Occupy, or inspired by - I do not know. But I think it will play it's part. I think we are still building those bridges, and it feels like we are approaching some sort of apex.

Poverty and Rand

The following contains my ramblings on some posts elsewhere about Ayn Rand, her views on poverty, and particularly how her ideological followers (whether they call themselves Objectivists, Randians or not) view and treat poverty. I have edited these slightly to make them make sense on their own, and for some grammar errors, or for clarification. Additions will be marked {thus}.

If you want to see a simulation of how an Objectivist society would go down, play Bioshock.

Enjoy!

~~~

When I first read (Ayn) Rand as a teenager, I loved her "perusing your own skills/ideals/whatnot to your own perfection" world view, but even then had trouble with her economics. As an adult, I do think there are things in her writing worth considering. My enormous trouble with her comes not from the fact that she has a economic ideology that I vehemently disagree with, but from what she does with it and how she expresses it. She had a fanatical hatred for the poor, calling them parasites and insisting that the world would be better off if they were removed from it (not lifted out of poverty by opportunity). That is more than a simply economic philosophy. She had a pathology about it. The irony is that when in dire straits herself she made use of the same safety net that she pontificated so loudly against.

And do not get me started on her Objectivist followers, they are such a hot mess it would take days to spell out everything wrong with their stances.

~~~

{On hating someone for being poor and apparently slothful.} Okay, but does that make any sense, either? Hating someone for something like that? And the very idea "people who were happy to remain poor" is bizarre, it makes no sense and has no reality in it whatsoever. But she did seem to think that such existed, and were a blight.

You are fine - I did not see it as semantics. And this is why it is important to really analyse literature, particularly when the author is openly promoting a particular world view. The saddest thing about Rand (besides the hypocrisy of her later life) is that it is really difficult to have a conversation like this where we talk about the ideas and do not degrade each other.

~~~

You cannot expect people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps when they have no boots.

In one hundred percent of my lived experience and anecdotal experiences I have been able to pursue, there is always a reason for not being able to take advantage of an opportunity. No one, I assert, no one is "happy" being poor. Some are making the best of their circumstances, and good for them if they can. Usually, people making that claim have no idea of the chasm between being on state sponsored assistance and becoming self-sufficient. Often, the job openings available cannot help bridge that chasm. But now we are getting past common perceptions of poverty and getting into the reality of it, and I do know know if this is a venue where that is desired, or if it is a part of the conversation worth getting into right now.

~~~

Eh, given that most state's assistance is not enough to live on, let long live a life of leisure, I have a hard time believing that. Are their some cases of welfare fraud? Sure. But the myth of the Welfare Queen, living a life of luxury courtesy of the state is just that: a malicious, ridiculous, and downright stupid myth. But the Randians eat it up and have made it a central pole in their tent of misguided self righteousness.

~~~

Ah, I see now. Thanks for the discussion, but you have some dead give a ways in your last two posts that lead me to believe we are not going to actually get anywhere with further discussion.

Because we could get into the weeds and prove that if you have children to care for, or conditions that require constant medical coverage, or any number of situations that make the gap between getting your first couple of paychecks and when the state cuts you off simply too wide for too many people - but you illustrate above that such would not really mean much to you. {I have done the math before, for multiple states - usually the new aid for an additional child will not even cover diapers, let alone be "extra money" in any way.}

I have lived, and am currently, living these situations. I am finding this a unique phenomena, the linking of morality to financial success or lack of it. It is bizarre. Not to knock you, specifically, I mean that it is a weird cultural thing. 

~~~

{The conversation mostly devolved at that point. Reading the above, the poster took what I said and turned it into a tirade against them. It was a beautiful illustration of both missing the point, and turning logic into a personal attack. The poster also was apparently unaware that I am disabled, that that, yes indeed, they were talking about me. But this issue was bigger than that.}

Hmm, in my two paragraphs I do not see any twisting or manipulating - or even any of the extrapolation that would allow such. Hell, I did not even say that you were one of the people comfortable punishing poor people, only that perhaps you could educate me on their mindset. You do protest too much, I think.

And it is about me. It is about you. It is about everyone. It is about the poor. It is about the people that have been poor. It is about the people that will be poor. It is about everyone. And so, yeah, I am pretty damn uncomfortable with blanket moral judgments towards "the poor" as a group. Especially "slothful" - because that has to come from someone that has never been poor, because being poor is damn hard work. I do find it a convenient landmark, though, because the people that throw the word around obviously are completely disconnected from the work of just being poor. The running around, the appointments, the paperwork, the requirements just to receive any kind of aid - they do make you work for it. Hell, Disability alone takes an average of two to three years to resolve a case.

Most USian households are one paycheck, one health calamity, one car accident, from suddenly being poor. Do they deserve your moral indignation? No, they do not. But it is far too common to find your own "Welfare Queen or King" and decide that this morally bankrupt person is the face of the poor. Never mind that most aid is given to white house holds that simply had that one paycheck calamity. Or were downsized. Or became disabled. The true face of poverty in the US is us, you and me, not your "morally bankrupt" scapegoats. Much like in war, the dehumanization of the poor allows us to treat them as this other deserving of what ever they get. lucky for the scraps thrown their way.

There is a preponderance of evidence supporting the fact that we are the face of poverty. Or more appropriately, that you cannot generalize the way you would like to. If I thought I could change your mind, LMGTFY {Let Me Google That For You}, but you can easily do so if you want. You could have done so before this discussion, or during it.

Side note: I do not know about all states, but in mine if you are working on a 4 year degree you are disqualified from receiving help maintaining your household from the state. I know that for a been there, done that fact. Because your full class load keeps you from looking for full time work - so you are not eligible for aid. How is that for irony? Again, the result of policy makers having no contact with reality.

Dear Bill Maher

Dear Bill Maher:


Fuck you.


Wait, perhaps I should explain. On your HBO series, Real Time with Bill Maher, episode 238, after your opening monologue, you conducted an interview with Dr. Drew Pinsky.


For the most part, it was the standard off-and-on funny middling self-help celebrity interview. I had some hope that this would be good stuff when Pinsky called "bullshit" right away on some of the standard thought processes regarding celebrities and addition. Even better, when you both touched on how street drugs seem to, regarding addition in general, have different, less fatal outcomes than prescription drug addition. This is not part of current common wisdom and needs more discussion and scrutiny. I thought it was useful that you two delved into why celebrity addiction deaths seem to follow a pattern regarding "downers." It was really poignant when you two mentioned that sleep is the one thing that no one, no matter what their wealth and status, can order up on demand (particularly once one has built up a resistance to  Benzodiazepines , etc...).


But you and Dr. Pinsky talked a bit about painkillers, and you went so far off the rails you crashed the train in to the station. You quoted a statistic stating that while USians are a small percent of the world population, we use 56 percent of the painkillers and asked "What is it about Americans that we cannot cope with pain?" 


Deep breath, here we go...


So just starting out you make a gross generalization (and I do mean gross) and make me wonder what the hell is wrong with you. You give that statistic without citation, and with a number of assumptions. Have you even thought about what may be contributing to that statistic? That perhaps, with our extended lifespans that people are living longer in bodies that become more and more prone to conditions that cause pain? That there are numerous conditions out there that can not be cured, used to be fatal, but now are at least partially manageable and that one of the things that needs to be managed is often pain?


What is really important here is that you are feeding a stereotype of Americans using painkillers that itself can be deadly. Chronic pain is a vicious thing that uncoils into every aspect of your life, poisoning it. It does not just harm, it kills. Chronic pain kills enjoyment. Chronic pain kills serenity. Chronic pain kills relationships. Chronic pain kills self esteem and self reliance. Chronic pain drives people to suicide.


Do you have any idea how many people I hear from that live their lives in more pain than necessary, not out of deprivation but because of the stigma of pain killers? It is all I can do to not stop right now and sob just at the thought of the needless pain that I personally know is out there this morning. I am now, right now, needlessly suffering because my current pain killer and dose is no longer effective, but I just do not want to wrestle with my health care network. I just do not have the mental and emotional stamina to face being treated like a criminal because I have the misfortune to have a body that hurts.


Mr. Maher, please quit feeding the stereotype. There is genuine suffering out there, in here, that should not exist. If nothing else, in this modern age, we ought to be able to alleviate suffering. Our willingness to do so is part of our measure as human beings. 


I will toast you, Mr. Maher, the next time I take my nearly criminalized, carefully measured and monitored, and now rapidly approaching useless pain killer dose. If you cannot speak of those in pain or chronic pain with some humanity, compassion, and education, then please do not speak of us at all.


Edit: spelling error, 2/26/12

SmartAss Politics, I Have Them: Fathood

As I was writing about my politics as one piece, I noticed that it grew pretty big very quickly. I am breaking it down into parts, which will hopefully be less irritating, and allow me to explore each piece a little more coherently. I started writing about the politics of fathood a while ago, in response to someone being Wrong on the Internet. The timing of that incident has long past, but my views are still the same. So, come, and share them with me!

Wall of Text version: I am a big liberal, you may want to get used to it. I hold the lofty belief that the world would be a better place if we could all be the people we want to be (without causing harm to another, or hindering their ability to do the same), as determined by our own ideals. I also believe that a representative government has a duty to make sure that we all have the opportunity – an equal opportunity – to do so. While I am talking about my beliefs, I want to include that government should maintain a social safety net for those neglected, ignored, and/or abused by that society.

I believe in the use of the word “fat” as a value-neutral term.That is easy for me to say because I am not considered fat. I have been fat - or at least reacted to in a manner that suggested the other person thought I was fat. I have considered myself fat (hello there, body image issues, how have you been?). I have never been called fat by anyone since I left my parents home. As an adult, I have weighted from 105 to 175 pounds at different points in my life. I am personally uncomfortable using the term fat because I do not believe that the use of it as a value-neutral term is wide-spread enough for me to assume that it is being heard in a value-neutral way. Do you find yourself asking WTF is this “value-neutral?!?”  I say this: fat is a descriptor, like brunette, tall, or tan; rather than a judgment indicating lazy, gluttonous, jolly, etc… And while that is what I mean when I say “fat” I shy away from using the term at all for fear it read as a judgment even though such is not my intent.

Here is an interesting article: New York Time: Body Mass Index Can Be Misleading.

I believe that the BMI can tell you that you are obese, and yet your cholesterol, blood pressure, and heart health may indeed be fine. I mean that you can be heavy and healthy at the same time. I know for a fact that your BMI can be “ideal” and you can be an internal mess – that is where I find myself lately. So my “The BMI does not indicate health” stance does go both ways. Any meaningful use of the BMI must take into consideration the origins and original purpose of it, along with its inherent flaws.

I know I am going to fuck up being a good ally on occasion. I hope it is a rare one. Not only is it the right thing to do, but this issue challenges a lot of people that I care about deeply.

Now, articles agitate folks every so often, and I do not want to get into that one way or the other but I am glad that the discussions happen. I lay clam to being fat accepting, but there are people you should be reading if you want to really get to know what that means.  The Fat Nutritionist is a good start.

First, Do No Harm is a place where people can go to talk about fat-phobia they are subject to from medical professionals. I have seen this in action. I have watched my husband’s knee and back concerns blown off by tying them to his weight (he had bulging disks, and a torn meniscus/missing cartilage in a knee).

Now, of course there are intersections between disability and size-acceptance, and s.e. smith talks about that really well here.I love s.e. smith, as you all will probably figure out sooner or later.


I am sure this topic will come up again in the future, but this looks like a good start.

Do you have a Health at Every Size or fat acceptance link or story? Share it below!

Ally Anxiety

So, Tuesday, I am did my usual thing… I listened to the Blacking It Up pod cast (and you should, too – it is amazing!). Apparently, bridges had been built over the weekend by Jack and Jill’s Cheryl Contee and Elon James White at RightOnline, because we had one of our first trolls. Ms. Contee’s and Mr. White’s adventure is documented here: “INCOGNEGRO:  UNDERCOVER AS A BLACK CONSERVATIVE AT RIGHT ONLINE DURING NETROOTS NATION PART 1." It is a must read! While I already read Jack and Jill Politics, I keep checking the site for the next part…

The pod cast was full of the anticipated and appreciated awesome. Then the troll showed up. What followed caused, for me, a severe case of ally anxiety.

During the pod cast, there is a chat window underneath where the listeners can chat amongst ourselves, respond to the show, ask questions, snark – whatever happens to be going on. Sometimes we wander way off topic, sometimes the show and the chat room work in beautiful harmony. When I started listening to @BlackingItUp and BCCO’s other shows, I just listened for a week or two, because I am a visitor, an ally – and I did not want to come on too strong, too fast, too pushy, too “white liberal on the internet.”

This day, a new person came into the chat. New people are fun and enthusiastically welcomed. This person was not fun. One by one, this person (I presumed he, there was the tell tale reek of mansplaining) started raising racial flags. Whites are racially oppressed, standardized testing is not racially biased, I am colorblind – why aren’t you, I should not get searched at the airport, racial minorities are racists because they complain about race relations, but everyone is racist like me. You know ‘em and hate ‘em: they are the classic tropes of the racist. He would raise one flag, wade into his rightly earned flak, wait for a few moments, and then raise another one. I would not be surprised to find that “oneshotoneki11” (my approximation) is at least a semi-pro troll.

Here is where the ally anxiety comes in: what do you do? I wanted to be out in front, and stomp this asshole into the ground; to stop the badness, to vent the frustration of not being able to confront so many people’s racism, and personally to show that I am not with him or his ilk. But I am working on being an ally; one of the first rules is DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU IF IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU. So I reeled myself in, spoke my peace once in a while but mostly either stayed out of the way while others let him have it, supported the excellent arguments being made against him and his toxic memetic stew, and expressed dismay that he would violate the hospitality offered him as a new guest.

I know that my case of ally anxiety was nothing, nothing compared to what the black listeners were going through while this was happening. I know that what was going on in my heart, my head, and my gut is miniscule in the grand scope of things. My feelings, my reactions – those are not a big deal to anyone but me. I write this to air it out, to solicit the opinions and experience of others, and to give anyone that wants it an insight into what went on in my head (or heads like mine?) during this. I was angry, I was sad, I was sick. We discovered that four (if I remember correctly) white members of the audience had stayed on this guy, which was also cool. I think that we, the audience, feel a little closer to one another, because of what this asshole brought out a united sense of solidarity in us.

Plucked popinjays like this troll make me ashamed of my skin. I wanted to apologize for his inanity, and I did – but that does not make any sense. No more sense than the bizarre “blaming” that minority groups sometimes face over one individual behaving badly. 

I found out that I was not obviously white, which is kind of neat.Often white racial justice allies are problematic in and of themselves. They refuse to recognize their own internal racism, how all the little assumptions, good, bad, and "neutral" add up to a racism that is insidious, because it can hide.

Racists often do not even know that they are racists, let alone doing evil. You cannot convince someone (though any means) to stop doing something they believe they are not doing in the first place. 

The top of the kyriarchy knows that their days are numbered and that their power is slipping – which, I think, is why they are always scrambling, always grabbing, and always further consolidating their power. With the election of a President that neither looks like them nor shares their history or values, they are now in a full on panic. “Take their country back,” indeed – just as the rest of us may start to think it may actually be our country, too.

Blog note: The various Pod Casts are archived and available on the Brooklyn Comedy Company’s web page. You can also find the shows on ITunes and YouTube – remember to take a moment to rate and comment, they deserve the love.

Shout out to the chat room – sorry about the trash.

Not a Junkie

Thank you to Blurbette and #TeamAfterParty for bringing this simmering topic back to a brain boil.

Days like today find me feeling like a junkie. At least, I think that other people may see it that way. See, the doctor that signs my pain prescription took a long vacation around the holiday, a vaction which happened to include the day my Rx needed to be filled. So, I was, of course, left waiting. I have only rarely experienced any sense of urgency from medical professionals regarding pain treatment.

After years of fighting and enduring, I did finally get my health pros to take my pain seriously. My GP/gateway provider was particularly hesitant. He did decide (eventually!) that my pain is indeed real, and I am not seeking to sell my pills on the street. Even so, my ability to live my day to day life with at least some freedom of pain is not, and has never been, a priority for anyone with a sheepskin.

The difference between opiate dependence and opiate addiction is not obvious to the casual observer. One of the reasons I hate being called an addict is that addiction is a whole different experience, and I do not want to appropriate that experience set as my own when my addictions are mild: caffeine and nicotine.

I am dependent. This means that I require opiates to modulate my pain (it is long past being negated through most anything) and get through even a vaguely normal day. I acquire them through completely legal means, and there has never been any solid inquiry regarding my integrity. By “no solid inquiry” I, of course, mean other than the default suspicion that accompanies using opiates in the first place!

I take a very strong opiate, and still I do not have pain free days.

People dependant on opiates go through withdraw just like addicts do. The difference between dependent and addicted is not a physical one, in my experience, but a moral one. Unless you are willing to break the law and either buy off the street, or doctor shop, or whatever – there is nothing you can do but wait for the duly appointed authority figure in the matter to get off their DAMN ASS and take care of business.

It is not as if I am the one that insists that I need opiates to control my pain. I tried, both through my own suggestion, the suggestions of friends and strangers, and my DEA worried docs’ suggestions just about every non-opiate pain killer out there. I have also, a very few times, drunk myself into a stupor as a last resort escape from consciousness, if not pain. My liver is still not happy about any of that. To be honest, if killing a chicken in the light of the full moon could relieve my pain, I would probably do it. Nothing works but opiates, and I had a truckload of Nancy Reagan to get out of my damn head before I could even begin to be okay with that.

Extreme, unrelenting pain is insane making. No, I am not taking a poke at folks that qualify as insane – I mean that extreme pain can cause symptoms similar to several diagnosable mental illnesses. Pain can lead to shortness of temper, irritability, paranoia, loss of cognitive function, loss of memory, compulsive behavior, self-harm (in my opinion, this is an attempt to set off the CNS’s pain gate function), loss of physical ability, and unpredictable bouts of extreme anger, frustration, guilt, morose, ennui, and pissed-off-ness. Yeah, ahh, those would be, you know, industry terms…

As I write this, I am coming up on missing my first dose. Within a day after that, if it goes that far, I will have extra super flu-like symptoms (lupus is kind of like having the flu all the time anyway), I will hate the whole damn world, and my vocabulary with mainly consist of the kind of language people use when they tell the Aristocrats joke. It is all I can do right now to try to accomplish all the things that will need to be done for a little while in case I need to retreat to my bed, curl up under a blanket I will then play Too Hot Too Cold with, and spit random curses at the world.

There are a lot of side effects I experience that I am not, and will probably not go into here or with much of anyone that does not need to know. And my experience with this may not the same as anyone else’s, let alone everyone else’s.

Oh, and every six months I have to go though a “Do you still really need these pills?” appointment. Look, if I was all better one of the first things I would do is call all the docs that have been humane, recognized my humanity and sing their praises; then call the other docs and describe, in loud detail, what anatomically impossible feats I would like them to perform for me.

***

As of today, the day I post this, everything is fine. If you were kind enough to have a thought about my well being… well, first, bless you heart! Caring about people on the internet! You are an exemplary human being, Gentle Reader. Second, I am okay. This article was written early, in order to make sure I had something to post even if my doc did not get back to me in time to take away my short term ticket to hell. My doc was still gone, but my old doc is in the same office, was in attendance, and she did come through. So I am okay, and no more likely to explode at anyone than I am on any other regular.