Tag: pedophilia

Don’t Think I Don’t Think About It

How is it Wednesday Pay the Bills Day again already? Sheesh!

But yes, I know being able to pay them is a very good thing, but I still resent the money spent.

Yesterday was an odd day, really. I worked by myself in the clinic, and of course–since I had help Monday, over half were no-shows, but everyone came the day I was by myself! Naturally, isn’t that how it always goes? I don’t think we’re nearly as busy today, but I was highly productive at work yesterday, which was awesome. I felt good all day, actually, and when I got home I actually did shit. I did the dishes and several loads of laundry, I made dinner (so the sink is full again), and I even wrote for a little (very little) while, but more on that later. After we ate dinner, we started watching Malice on Prime, which is rather chilling; the “manny from hell” is the plot, and its also very well cast. Jack Whitehall is appropriately creepy as the manny (actually a tutor), with David Duchovny and Clarice van Houten as the wealthy couple he has targeted…although we don’t know why or what he is up to so far. Tonight after work I have to run an errand; I need to make a side dish for our office potluck tomorrow so I need to get the ingredients. I really don’t want to make what I promised to make (my spicy mac ‘n’ cheese), but there is naught to do but do so, methinks. If I make it when I first get home, then I can write or relax or do whatever the hell I want to after. I also slept deeply and well last night, so I feel very awake and rested today.

I was a bit surprised to see the numbers on the votes to release the Epstein files yesterday–and let’s face it, the landslide it turned out to be made me suspicious. After all the shenanigans and lies of this past year, now they are listening to the anger of their constituents? Then again, he honestly believes he could shoot someone and not lose any support, so there’s also that aspect of it; and to his credit, how much spinning have we seen in the last week or so from the right, parsing what technically is or isn’t pedophilia? This should be the complete and final death knell for those Moms for Liberty skanks…hard to push that drag queens, trans women, and other queers are the groomers and pedophiles when you vote for and support actual pedophiles. But it has never been about protecting children, has it? No, that was simply their cover to go after a minority population they don’t like.

And using it as a wedge issue. How’d that work out for you, bitches?

And of course, the only elected official in Congress to vote against releasing the Epstein files was Louisiana’s own garbage human, Clay Higgins. Higgins is– even for a state that produced garbage politicians like our current governor, Steve Scalise, John Kennedy, Bill Cassidy, and Liz Murrill, amongst the other trash we seem to elect all the time–pretty remarkably horrible. He had to resign in disgrace from the St. Landry Parish sheriff’s office for being, well, horrible; is constantly posting racist garbage on-line; is also ethically challenged; and was sued by his ex-wife for back child support in the amount of $14,000.

And he’ll probably be reelected next year despite providing cover for the biggest and most notorious pedophile ring in history. I mean, even Steve Scalise voted for their release. SCALISE!

Electing a Black president who gave them health care really made racist Louisiana voters lose their fucking minds.

Endymion announced yesterday who the musical entertainment at their ball this coming Carnival will be, and you couldn’t pay me enough to attend; I actually feel bad for those who go to the Endymion Ball and will have to sit through performances by the trash they booked, aka Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. Yuck, yuck, a thousand times yuck. At least their grand marshal will be Livvy Dunne, the former LSU gymnast and Instagram star. I literally can’t with Endymion. I guess Kid Rock and/or Jason Aldean weren’t available? What next, Endymion? Confederate flag throws?

Sigh.

I did work on “A Holler Full of Kudzu” last night; which I actually enjoyed doing and I also renamed the novella “Kudzu Jesus,” which feels like a much better title (although I still like that original one), since the story does involve religion in small town rural Alabama in the 1970s a bit. (I came up with this title when someone posted some pictures of kudzu vines on energy and/or telephone poles, which can sometimes look like Christ on the cross, hence Kudzu Jesus. I don’t know why I keep coming back to this story rather than working on Chlorine, but I think primarily that’s because of the trip next week and the potential for losing momentum by taking that break. Rationalize, rationalize, rationalize! But that’s what I am interested in working on right now, so that’s what I am doing.

And on that note, it’s time for me to hit the spice mines again. Have a great Hump Day Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Now, those are some mighty legs…

Something in the Orange

Work at home Friday, and all is well, at least as well as can be expected on this fine morning. I do have some meetings to attend via ZOOM this morning, and then I am going to get all my data entry and quality assurance finished before running an errand or two and doing chores–I am thinking about saving the really big cleaning efforts for tomorrow during college football. The LSU game is in the morning (v. Arkansas; my supervisor went there and is going to her first game in Tiger Stadium…as a fan for the visitors; I don’t know that I would do that, honestly–go to an away LSU game. Fans can really be assholes), which is an example of how far both programs have fallen, and I don’t even know who’s playing during the rest of day nor do I care; it’s going to be background noise while I write and clean and read.

It’s kind of nice not being vested in this season, actually.

My friend Angel Luis Colon posted a hilarious burn on pro-pedophile skank Megyn Kelly yesterday; More like Megyn R. Kelly…which was incredibly spot on. It’s also been a lot of fun watching MAGA and their spokes-trash, like Kelly and bottom feeder Jesse Waters and CNN’s sad excuse for a man Scott Jennings desperately spinning, after ten years of calling Democrats pedophiles and screaming for the Epstein files….that, you know, Ghislaine Maxwell, a trusted source and not biased at all, denied their foul god-emperor was involved despite all evidence to the contrary, or “fifteen isn’t really pedophilia it’s barely legal”1, or any of the other horrible talking points that were sent out to the loyal state media…if you weren’t convinced before that GOP stands for “guardians of pedophiles” or they are all lying liars who only care about power and oppression, I don’t know how you can deny any of it today, or play “what about.” My morality isn’t partisan, for the record, and if Obama and Clinton or any other Democrat is in the files, lock them up.

The fact these trash have spent the last decade fear-mongering queer and trans people and calling us pedophiles and groomers only to walk it all the way back and now defend grooming and pedophilia is really something to see.

I will never stop hating MAGA, ever. They’re unspeakably vile, monstrous excuses for human beings, and wrapping their monstrosity in religion is even more vile. Talk about taking their Lord’s name in vain…

I ran my errands after work and came home a bit tired, but not too terribly bad. I did the dishes, another load of laundry, and while I didn’t pick up or clean a whole lot around here last night, I did get some things done, so I am a little bit ahead of the game this morning. I have my meetings, as I mentioned, and then have some data entry to do. Later on, as I said, I’ll probably run some errands and make a bit of groceries so I can be in for the weekend. The weather has warmed up–I went outside to put the wagon away and it’s really nice out–which is a nice change (the cold is coming back; we’re getting a freeze, apparently, on Thanksgiving day itself); I do need to wash and clean out the car, but might wait until the weekend before I drive to Kentucky to do that.

I also want to do some writing and reading over the weekend, which is made easier by the LSU game being so early in the day. It’ll be over before three, and then I can get other things done around here as well. Last night when I got home I mostly got caught up on the news (not paying attention to it while I’m at work every day has been a blessing, really; I can focus on doing my job without my blood pressure–already medicated–rising, and that has made a difference. I am almost completely caught up on all day job duties; after today I think I will be current on everything, which is a really nice feeling. Now if I can apply the same logic to my writing….

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. You have a lovely day in whatever way you so desire, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow before the LSU game.

This stele from the Karnak temple at Luxor looks other-wordly in this light…
  1. Barely legal means legal, you stupid fucks, not legal in three more years. ↩︎

Makin’ It

I’ve always felt that Tuesdays are worse than Mondays. Sure, it sucks to get up on Monday morning and go back to the office, but at least you’re coming off the weekend. Tuesday means you’re not even halfway through the week and you’ve already worked the day before. Horror of horrors! I felt this way even in high school–which is where and when I started wishing my life away, as my mom always used to say. Of course, she didn’t start saying that until she stopped working and became, for want of a better word, a housewife. Such an ugly and weird sounding word, isn’t it? But it’s better than “tradwife,” which just might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard–and the whole “tradwife values” thing just kind of turns my stomach ever so slightly.

I do want to write about one, of course. I also want to write about one of those horribly creepy “boymoms.” Straight people are so weird…

But this morning I feel rested and good. I ran some errands after work last night, which was not as painful as I might have expected, and I have to run one tonight when I leave the office. I finished revising my short story and send it in (it’s for a queer crime anthology called Crime Ink), which felt really good (the story is an excerpt from Never Kiss a Stranger called “The Rhinestone”), and I did work on the book a little around Sparky’s intense neediness. I think Paul is moving into the Monteleone tomorrow, so after tonight I’ll be home alone with a super needy cat, which will be challenging. I also need to figure out my schedule for the weekend’s Festivals. I am moderating a panel for the Pinckley Prize tenth anniversary celebration, I know, and I have to do the anthology launch Saturday night, and I am in the Dorothy Allison tribute reading. There’s also a panel on Sunday I am on, and of course both the opening and closing parties. Sigh. I get tired just thinking about it, you know?

But it’ll be fun and invigorating intellectually, and it’s always inspiring to be around wonderful people who love books and writing.

Remember the author I talked about who created a firestorm by writing and publishing that dreadful book where the man fell in love with his best friend’s three-year-old daughter but waits until she was legal before doing anything (as though the pedophilic grooming wasn’t bad enough)? She was arrested yesterday and charged (in Australia) for possession of, and intent to distribute, child pornography. The copies of her own book was the evidence they needed for the arrest! I don’t know what the laws are in Australia, but quite frankly, arguing that it’s a “slippery slope” to be arrested for “dark romance” writing? Dark romance actually requires consent, otherwise it’s rape. You’re trying to ban queer books in the US, yet people are trying to defend the principle of free speech about a book that is 100% about grooming? Yeah, miss me with that. Child rape is child rape, period; and I think the fact so many people missed the real point of Lolita and think it’s a “romance” is why no one should be writing about child rape like it’s just another style of “dark” romance.

And who would ever think to themselves, “I’m going to write a dark romance about grooming!”

Someone I wouldn’t let around kids, that’s who.

Not all speech is protected–which no one seems to understand, which isn’t surprising since they don’t understand their own protected right to free speech and what precisely that means. We really are the dumbest country. This whole “let’s share classified intelligence with a reporter in a group chat” thing would be laughable if it wasn’t so fucking terrifying. IMAGINE EISENHOWER SENDING THE D-DAY PLANS TO A REPORTER, or Truman accidentally telling the Washington Post about the plans to use the atomic bomb on Japan the day before?

Americans have never appreciated our system, or they’d have learned how it works better when they were younger. (I wish I had a quarter for every time I had to explain the Electoral College to smart people–or people I’d thought were smart previously–in 2000 I’d have retired years ago.) So, we kind of have the government we deserve right now.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day. Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again at some point.

Screenshot

Tell Me Why

The question of whether one can enjoy art by an artist who is, in some way, problematic in modern sensibilities has been raging off and on almost this entire century; the conversation will die down without any real resolution until someone everyone hero-worships is exposed. This always lends itself to the rending of garments and the gnashing of teeth as people question whether it’s okay to continue enjoying art by someone who your ethics and values find to be problematic. I understand why people have these reactions, and there is something to be said about a world in which there was no social media or Internet around to expose artists the way they are now, you know? With the changes in publishing, artists have had to start putting themselves out there a lot more than ever before to connect with readers and hopefully sell some books to keep our careers going; as someone who (despite the blog) tends to be a very private person (“never bleed in public!”) I try not to be controversial about things that, to me, aren’t controversial; anyone who thinks I am not going to support queer equality or fight misogyny and racism with every breath in my body and every keystroke in my fingers…that isn’t controversial to me.

And if you think a gay man who constantly has to justify his existence as a human being and therefore should have the same rights that everyone else has isn’t going to belittle, insult, and rip to shreds people who think I’m subhuman? Go fuck yourself with rusty razor wire and do the world a favor and don’t breed.

And don’t even get me started on the abuse I’ve endured over the years.

The first time I ever was confronted with this ethical and moral question about art was, I think, with Orson Scott Card. Card was a highly successful science fiction writer, and his book Ender’s Game is (was?) widely regarded as a classic of the genre. I read it and enjoyed it, but there were some kind of creepy things in the text that set off an alarm in my head, and the book didn’t leave me with any desire to revisit that universe or any of Card’s other books. So when he turned out to be a devout Mormon actively working to stigmatize and deny rights to queer people…well, that was an easy decision for me. I don’t actively work to deny him rights as a Mormon, do I? So, yeah, his homophobic activism was actually causing harm to an entire community, and was pushing to do more. As far as I know, he’s still a homophobic POS, but he had the decency to fold his tent, pick up his marbles, and go home with the marriage equality fight ended with Obergefell.1

This question has reared its ugly head again recently, in the cases of immensely popular and respected writers Neil Gaiman and Alice Munro2. Gaiman for sexual predation and Munro for not supporting her daughter who was being raped as a child by Munro’s second husband (and yes, Lolita came up a lot in those conversations, and it never ceases to amaze me how many warped people DO NOT understand that book in the slightest. It’s not a beautiful romantic story of forbidden love and a child-temptress; it’s a horrific story of abuse and survival, even if beautifully written. Nabokov was too good of a writer to tackle this subject, clearly). I was going to address this question regarding them in the abstract; I have no skin in either game. I’ve enjoyed Gaiman’s work in the past, but have never met him and don’t have any connection to him other than his work and mutual friends. But hold the presses–someone I actually know was arrested for possessing child sexual abuse pornography.3

That was a shock.

And the more news that came out about this crime, the worse it has been.

There’s no question he’s guilty; possession of child sex abuse pornography cases generally don’t lead to an arrest unless they are 100% certain of conviction; 91% plead out and those who go to trial have a 95% conviction rate, so they have you dead to rights. The sheer volume of this vile imagery on his computer negates any excuses that a defense lawyer could conceivably come up with. I did see, as soon as the news broke, some people urging others to not jump to conclusions and “everyone is presumed innocent”–yeah, that clamor has died down as more information has come out. It’s also made me think about other instances where someone’s horrible behavior has been exposed; there’s always the people who don’t want to believe it–which I think is more of a subconscious defense mechanism in some way; we all want to believe that we can spot these people in polite company, that there are little tell-tale signs we may not have noticed at the time but now make sense, and we don’t want to believe that someone we’ve met, worked with, been around and liked can be a monster.

But as the queers can tell you, people can pretend to be supportive and pretend to be your friend while happily voting against your rights in every election. They can equate drag queens with pedophilia, and deep down think queer people shouldn’t be around children–or when presented with queer people around children, shudder and say “well that’s inappropriate”–so deep down your instant reaction is homophobia, so you’re actually homophobic at heart and need to do some self-work…and don’t be surprised when you spew out something homophobic you get dragged for it, and then pull the “I didn’t mean it that way”–yes, dear, you did.

And it’s not my fucking job to educate you.

It’s a shock, of course, anything like this will rock your world. We don’t want to believe we are in the company of monsters…but you’ll never go wrong as a queer person slightly holding back on straight people. Given the chance, they will always throw queer people under the bus to maintain their own privilege.

That’s how the monsters get away with it, after all…they look like everyone else. We do ourselves no favors thinking we should be able to tell when we’re in the presence of evil. The fact that we can’t makes knowing and liking a monstrous pedophile feel like a personal failing, like “how did I not see it?” Because they are very adept at fitting in…which is how they get away with it for so long.

The crime community has done a very good job this week disassociating with him, but it’s a excellent reminder to always be careful. Always.

And another reminder: Brendan DuBois? Not a drag queen.

  1. I don’t know if he has resurfaced in his role as unrepentant homophobic asshole in the years since, but he’s no longer on my radar and I don’t care what he’s doing. ↩︎
  2. A NOBEL PRIZE WINNER! ↩︎
  3. Not even the first time this has happened; the last time was someone I knew much better than the colleague arrested this week. ↩︎

Here Comes Peter Cottontail

Easter, which really should be the highest holy day of Christianity–but it’s not. That would be Christmas, which again–really doesn’t make sense. But at least the date of Jesus’ birth is fixed–as opposed to how the day of his death floats.

I overslept again this morning and I suspect my exhaustion–which carried me through yesterday as well–has everything to do with the situation on Friday. Yes, I know I am being vague, but I also never am sure about crossing a privacy line for someone else. Essentially, I lost the entire day, and let’s just say that I am glad I am on anxiety medication because my mind would have exploded this past week, probably. But it was exhausting and draining, both emotionally and physically, and that all kind of caught up with me yesterday. I did get some things done–laundry and I did run an errand–but was completely worn out yesterday and had excessive fatigue. I feel better this morning than I did yesterday, but I also have a lot to do today and hope that I can manage somehow. I feel motivated today, which I didn’t have the energy for yesterday, and as soon as I finish this I am going to get cleaned up and finish cleaning the kitchen and dive into my day.

Sounds good, anyway.

It’s also a very bright and cheery day out there–it’s been cold since around the festivals–and I am hoping to cook out today, too. We spent most of the day relaxing with the television on. I did read some of Last Summer, too, which I am really getting into, and I think my next read will be an old Michael Koryta, The Cypress House. He really is one of my favorite writers, and I need to read more of his backlist as well as get caught up on recent releases. I pruned the books a very little yesterday, and we did watch some great stuff yesterday. We watched Quiet on Set Friday night, which was grim and creepy and horrifying, and then yesterday we watched Thanksgiving and moved onto Will Trent, which we’d been meaning to get around to but kept forgetting–it’s quite good. Thanksgiving was another holiday slasher movie, kind of clever and didn’t take itself too seriously (always a plus in a slasher movie) and I enjoyed–but it didn’t say anything new or do anything wildly clever or original. Quiet on Set, on the other hand, was deeply disturbing–which brings me to another point about the falsity of the right and it’s anti-queer lies about grooming and pedophilia. Every day I see pieces posted on social media about another male (sometimes with a female accomplice) convicted of raping and/or sexually abusing children…and getting off with thirty days in prison, or three months, or suspended sentences.

Where is all the outrage about THAT? Judges and juries giving light sentences for raping children? That’s how I know the right is all smoke and mirrors when it comes to these issues. They chose to attack a small minority and accuse them of not being safe around children, but where is there concern about all these religious figures, church leaders, your counselors, and COPS who are getting away with destroying children? Watching Quiet on Set made me aware just how hypocritical they are. If they really cared about children and keeping them safe, they’d go after actual people who, you know, commit the crimes and the disgusting sentences they get for said crimes. It’s hard to take any country seriously who doesn’t punish actual perpetrators of crimes against children, but instead accuses innocent parties while looking the other way when the criminals don’t fit their narrative.

I’m tired of liars using children as a bait-and-switch to come for queer people.

Sigh. It’s easy to get frustrated and fearful these days with the world in the state it is currently in; I take no pleasure in seeing my predictions about the rise of modern American fascism, made in the early 1990s, coming true in my twilight years. You see, I recognized the rhetoric of the right, and how they were using queer people as scapegoats for everything, in the decade as the same language and dialogues that Germans used on Jews and queers in the 1930’s, and I also saw, with the rise of Fox News, the further decline of the American system and way of life. We’ve never really achieved, as a country, the democratic utopia the founders strove for–but it seems like a significant portion of the country no longer sees patriotism as country over party anymore. The Divine Right of Republicans to run the country was part of the unholy marriage of conservatives and evangelicals that Reagan fostered as a Machiavellian scheme to retain power. The right has been smearing the left as communists since the fall of the Tsar in 1917–it’s still a slur they sneer today (communist, commies, socialists) while painting themselves, quite offensively, as the real patriotic Americans.

Sometimes I think I am thinking overly optimistic and that more and more Americans are beginning to see the tin god as precisely that; a golden calf they worship despite their Holy Book’s continued warnings about false gods, false witness, and liars.

And for the record, I have always believed that faith in religion should be shown by works, not words. Anyone can say they are a Christian and they love Jesus–it’s their behavior and what they do that truly matters.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a happy Easter, Constant Reader, and I may be back later.

Hold On To Now

Monday and back to the office with me today. Weekends are simply not long enough, ever, and should always be at least three days, methinks. Yesterday I witnessed the dreadful Saints performance, and it was not a good weekend for Louisiana football fans; the only glimmer of light locally was Tulane’s victory. I finished reading Shawn’s book, which was marvelous, and then picked out my first Halloween Horror read: Riley Sager’s Final Girls, and it’s long past time I’ve read this book. It’s rather embarrassing that I’ve not yet gotten to it. I also downloaded the audiobook of The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones for this weekend’s drive to the Redneck Riviera, and read another Alfred Hitchcock Presents short story, from Stories for Late at Night, “The Ash Tree” by M. R. James, which was delightfully creepy and reminded me of Daphne du Maurier’s “The Apple Tree”–and that in turn made me think about creepy trees as a trope in horror, and thought perhaps I should give the trope a whirl at some point. We watched the Scouts Honor: The Secret Files of the Boy Scouts documentary–which was just as creepy and awful and horrific as I thought it would be, as well as yet another pointed reminder of how straight people have failed to protect children since, oh like forever, and then cover it up as much as possible but then have the nerve to accuse queer people of pedophilia and grooming?

Sure, Jan.

We also watched the Jennifer Garner Apple Plus series The Last Thing He Said, which wasn’t great but wasn’t terrible, either; it just kind of evolved and wasn’t very thriller-ish or suspenseful. I also predicted one of the bigger plot twists in the first episode long before it played out in the show, but it was well done and an interesting story; but it wasn’t very thrilling or suspenseful; it never really seemed like there was any danger or stakes. It ws talked about a lot, but never part of the show’s reality? It was interesting enough to hold our interest–although I think I may have approached telling the story in a different manner than they did. It’s an interesting thought, at any rate.

It’s lovely having a kitten in the house, even if it means being more alert and having to get up more regularly because there was a crashing sound from somewhere else inside the apartment–usually followed by a galloping kitten moving at high speed away from the noise and mayhem he caused. He woke me up this morning by knocking my glasses off my nightstand table and then playfully batting them around on the floor, and once I took those away from him he went for the broom. He’s incredibly sweet, though, and I love that he’s so fearless and feels comfortable and at home enough to play. He slept on me for most of the Saints debacle yesterday, through the Boy Scout movie, and then moved back and forth between me and Paul during the Jennifer Garner show.

I also started writing the opening of a short story or a novel or something at any rate while watching the Boy Scouts documentary–part of it and the scandal was in New Orleans–and had an idea for the opening scene for something so I started writing it down; mainly about a college student away from home for the first time who’s obsessed with true crime and wants to be a true crime writer but isn’t sure how to get started chasing her dream other than majoring in Journalism at Liberty State in Liberty Center, Kansas–the town from #shedeservedit, why not reuse it? I don’t know why I started writing this when there are so many other things I should be working on. But that’s also life, you know, when you’re a writer–at least for me, there are always so many other ideas and thoughts and stories banging around in my head that it’s sometimes hard to focus on what I need to get done.

Heavy heaving sigh.

I never did make that to-do list for the week, so perhaps that should be the first thing on the list (I often do this so I can cross something off the list immediately; it’s satisfying and always seems to keep off working on getting the list completed). I also think that once I finish reading the Riley Sager I am going to reread a classic Stephen King that I’ve not revisited in a long time, The Dead Zone, which used to be one of my favorites and is still one that I think about a lot–especially during the rise of the former president, who eerily reminded me of the character of Greg Stillson, written thirty or forty years or so before the rise of the reality host/failed real estate mogul. (I’d considered rereading it in the wake of the 2016 election, but didn’t have the strength; I think now would be a good time.) I liked the opening of the Sager; which was encouraging. I hope to be able to get several books read this month…I think my reading is going to start picking up again, hallelujah. I think having a cat sleeping my lap while I read was what I was missing, and why it was hard for me to read since we lost Scooter. (I promise not to turn this into a Tug stan blog, seriously.) Today is going to be his first day left at home on his own for a while; we’ll see how he handles that.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader; I’m sure I’ll be around again later on.