Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Survival skills

People started calling those in power to account
And people started saying, "I want my voice to count"
And people started learning that they don't need to fight
And they control their future and try to make it right

~~ “The News” by Carbon/Silicon

Eugene Robinson had a great column in the Washington Post titled “This Country Deserves Much Better Than Trump.” I’m not linking to it because it’s behind the paywall, but if you have access, I highly recommend it. This quote is what got me thinking:

“It's exhausting, I know, but don't let outrage fatigue numb you to the moral bankruptcy and gross incompetence of the Trump administration. This ugly departure from American norms and values must be opposed with sustained passion—and with the knowledge that things will probably get worse before they get better.”

This is exactly what I’ve been struggling with off and on since the election. I am an optimistic, happy person, but there are days when I feel so exhausted and angry and in such despair that I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I had that kind of day yesterday but I managed to pull myself out of it and it made me think about how to deal with what I’m coming to think of as Yam Fatigue Syndrome. It’s such a constant shitstorm of incompetence and ignorance and downright meanness that it can overwhelm. Then there is dealing with friends and family members who voted for him. It’s enough to send even the most optimistic person around the bend.

There are actually books out there that deal with this topic. How do we stay afloat in the Age of the Yam? I haven’t read any of them yet, but I have a few thoughts of my own. These are things that help me and maybe they’ll help you, too. Which is the very first thing on my list!

  1. Support and encourage each other. There are times when I have to step away from social media, but other times, I find that my friends and family members provide much-needed strength and fortitude. We are in this together and it is up to us to help each other and provide a source of encouragement when needed. I’m such a positive person that I find myself being that source more often than not, but it’s almost like a bank or that weird thing that nobody knew was so hard, health insurance. *cough* You pay into it and you have something there when you need it. For every person I’ve encouraged and tried to help stay positive, I’ve gotten that same kind of encouragement when my own battery was running low. We help each other. That’s how it works!
  2. Do things that make you happy and renew your spirit. For me, that is a lot of things. Music is a big one, as are books. I also feel a sense of peace and renewal when I pay attention to the flora and fauna of Nutwood. Seeing deer walking through the back yard is something that never fails to bring a smile to my face. Everyone has something that brings them that sense of joy and peace. Do those things.
  3. Keep your sense of humor! We have to keep laughing. Thank goodness for people like Seth Meyers, Stephen Colbert, and Samantha Bee (and many others). They point out the absurdity and horridness of the Yamistration but manage to give us a good laugh while they do it. You don’t even have to laugh about political stuff. Just hang onto that sense of humor and try to find things that give you a good laugh. One of the biggest laughs I’ve had lately was about that weird Google AI humanoid thing learning to walk. I laughed so hard that I cried (and yes, I snorted) and it was quite a catharsis. Never get so angry that you lose the ability to laugh. At least not for long.
  4. As many of you know, I’ve become an admirer of former FBI Director James Comey. Don’t get me started, but I’ll just say that I find his integrity very compelling. He’s one of the Good Guys and we need to cherish and encourage that. Anyway, I saw a video of him talking about what he tells (or told) new recruits coming into the FBI. It was two things, so this point gets its own subcategory! Wheeeee! Outlines are fun!
    1. Gratuitous Comey picture
      Sleep. Yep, he told recruits to get enough sleep and that it was not a moral failing to do so. He said that you work better and smarter when you get enough sleep and that sleep deprivation doesn’t help when it comes to churning out the best work (or being the best person you can be). I sometimes have a hard time with this because I love to stay up late and don’t like to sleep the day away, so if I have one of my late nights, it can mean that I really don’t get the sleep that I need. And you know what? That’s when I’m at my most irritable and impatient. Little things can get to me and I am definitely not at my best.
    2. The other thing that Comey told his recruits was to love someone. What a simple thing, but what an important thing! His thinking there was that it provides something to ground you and keep you focused on what matters. I’m sure that for FBI recruits, it also makes you think about your mission and about what you are fighting for, as well as insulating you from the many bad things that particular job can entail. (“Silence of the Lambs” shout-out!) I think this applies to civilians, too. Who or what do you love? Why do you do what you do? Why do some of us protest things even if we aren’t directly affected? Do we love others and want to help them? Do we love freedom and democracy? Do we love our country and want all of its citizens to prosper and thrive? Comey said to “love someone.” I would expand that to “someone or something.”

So that is my list, at least everything that I can think of for now. Granted, it definitely helps to be an optimistic person and I am certainly that. But even I need some encouragement at times, and these things help me. Your results may vary. I think it’s important to realize that we are in this for the long haul and as Robinson wrote, things could get worse before they get better. That makes it more important than ever to support and encourage each other.

I’ve got your back, fellow Warriors!

Cape Cod Morning

“Listen. You need to get out of here now.”

Cassandra leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in his direction.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“Nothing. You just need to get out.”

“Come on, baby. At least give me a smoke.”

She tossed the pack his way and he caught it. He lit one and gave her a smirk. “I could use a drink, too.”

She hesitated and finally said, “I suppose I could use one, too.”

She pulled down two glasses from the cupboard and poured a couple of fingers of Scotch into each of them. She handed one to him. He tried to click his glass against hers and she glared at him, taking a swig of her drink.

“So c’mon, what did I do to make you mad? Why you acting so mad at me?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I just want you to leave.”

He set his glass down on the table and walked over to her and put his hands around her waist. “Why you gotta treat me so bad, baby?”

She pushed his hands away. “Stop it, Vince. I told you I want you to leave. That means you need to leave.”

“I think I’ll leave when I want to leave.”

She slammed her glass down on the counter and some of the Scotch sloshed out. Something in her eyes made him step back. She took advantage of this and stepped towards him. “You need to leave. How many times do I have to say it, Vince? As of now, we are done. I can’t do this anymore.”

He smirked. “That’s not what you were saying an hour ago. You seemed pretty okay with doing it.”

“No more. Get out of my house. OUR house.”

“Oh, all of a sudden it’s ‘our’ house. Like your husband knows what’s going on. Or like you even matter to him. Or he matters to you.”

She took another step towards him and he backed away again. “This was a mistake from the beginning. I don’t know what I was thinking, but this is over. Get out.”

He started towards her but stopped in his tracks when a loud siren sounded somewhere outside. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s the storm siren.” She ran to the front window and flipped on the radio on her way. As she looked out the window at the glowering sky, the announcer said that a major storm was moving in and everyone within the sound of his voice needed to take shelter. The sun was still shining on the trees in their yard but the clouds in the distance were dark and ugly. She whirled towards him and said, “Damn it! Vince, you need to leave, right now! I don’t want you here, and Jack will be home soon.”

“Hell, no. I’m not going anywhere in that shit.”

She turned back to the window and leaned over the sill. The trees and grass had begun to whip in the increasing wind. She peered into the distance and saw a plume of dust. As she watched, she saw the shape of a car emerging. Jack’s car.

“There’s no time. Jack’s on his way. He’ll see your car. Get into the kitchen.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! I—”

Cassandra slapped him across the face. “Get in the goddamn kitchen, Vince!”

He rubbed his face and gave her a sullen look.

“Oh, stop being such a baby. You’re going to sit in the kitchen and we’re going to have a drink. As far as Jack is concerned, we’re two old friends from when I worked as a cigarette girl at the Hula Room.”

Vince shuffled into the kitchen, muttering all the way.

Cassandra pulled out a chair and shoved him into it. “Stop sniveling, you idiot. Just sit down and shut up. Have another cigarette.”

He lit one and sat quietly for the moment. The front door opened and closed and Jack called her name.

“In here, dear!”

He entered the kitchen and hesitated when he saw Vince sitting at the table. He walked to Cassandra and kissed her cheek. “Who’s our guest, sweetheart?”

“Where did you meet me, darling?”

He stood there a moment looking puzzled and then said, “At the Hula Room. I bought a pack of smokes from you.”

Cassandra smiled brightly. “That’s right! Vince here was a regular customer and he stopped by to say hello and get me caught up on all my former pals. Do you remember Ginny? She got married!”

Jack nodded and said, “Yes, I vaguely remember her. Good for her.”

“Anyway, Vince was just getting ready to leave when the siren sounded and the report of the storm came on the radio.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m home a little early. I heard that the storm was moving in and wanted to get home and make sure that you were okay.”

Just then, there was a bright flash of lightning outside, followed by an immediate crack of thunder.

Jack said, “Well, I don’t think anyone is going anywhere soon, so I think I’ll have a drink, too.” He poured himself a neat Scotch and sat at the table.

“So, Vince is it?”

Vince nodded.

“What is it you do?”

“A little of this, a little of that.” He threw a glance at Cassandra, who glared back at him. “Freelance stuff, mostly.”

“Well, depending on what your ‘freelance stuff’ is, I might be able to help you with some connections. I know a lot of people in the city.”

Vince shrugged. “I do okay.”

Jack shrugged, too. “All well and good. Just offering to help.”

Another crack of thunder echoed and a deluge opened up on the house. Cassandra ran for the front window and closed it before the rain could do any damage to the furniture or lamps nearby. Vince got up to follow her and Jack stood up. “She’s fine, pal.”

Vince slowly sat back down.

Cassandra returned to the kitchen and poured them all another drink. “My goodness. It is really coming down out there! You definitely can’t leave now, Vince.” She opened the pack of cigarettes and put one in her mouth. Jack leaned over to light it. She placed her hand on his and murmured, “Thank you, darling.”

As she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, Vince gave her a look and then gave Jack a look. He laughed. “Well, aren’t you two just something else?”

Cassandra and Jack looked at him. Cassandra adjusted her bra strap and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “Whatever do you mean, Vince?”

Vince looked between both of them and laughed again. “Really, Cass? Are you going to pretend like this was just a visit between old friends?”

She stared at him.

Vince looked at Jack and said, “And are you really such a dope that you don’t get what’s going on?”

Jack stared at him. “What exactly is going on, Vince?”

Vince looked at Cassandra and then at Jack. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

Jack shook a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. “Hmm. No, I suppose not.” He blew smoke rings in the air. “Do you need another drink, dear?”

Cassandra said, “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“And you, Vince?”

Vince looked at them both in amazement and then sat back in his chair. “Sure, I’ll have another drink. Why not?”

Jack fetched the bottle from the counter and poured them all more drinks. He stood and said, “Cheers to us all, and here’s to riding out the storm!” He downed his drink, winked at Cassandra, who downed hers and winked back at him. After watching them, Vince downed his.

“You two are crazy, you know that?”

Cassandra laughed. “Oh, we’ve been told that, yes.”

Jack said, “We have indeed.” He returned the bottle of Scotch to the counter and on the way back to his chair, picked up the stainless steel toaster that was sitting near the stove.

Vince said, “I think we need to talk a little bit more about what’s going on here.”

Jack said, “I agree,” and brought the heavy toaster down on Vince’s head. Vince dropped his drink and Cassandra said, “Oh dear! The Scotch!” and Jack hit Vince with the toaster again.

Vince slumped over the table and Jack sat the toaster carefully on the counter. He looked at Cassandra, who was still in her chair, smoking her cigarette. “We have some cleanup, darling.”

“Mm, yes.” She stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. “Let’s get to it.”

After cleaning up the kitchen floor and table, and burying Vince and the toaster in the backyard, Jack and Cassandra stood in the rain, their arms around each other. Jack said, “I love you, dear.”

Cassandra looked up at him and said, “I love you, too, my darling.” She looked down at her red dress. “My dress seems to be ruined, though.”

“I’ll buy you a new dress, sweetheart.” He kissed her on the forehead as the thunder rumbled overhead. “But honestly, how many times must we do this?”

“As many times as it takes, my love. As many times as it takes.”
**This story came about because of the book In Sunlight or In Shadow, a collection of stories inspired by the paintings of Edward Hopper. The editor, the writer Lawrence Block, challenged readers to write a story about this particular painting. This is my take on the painting.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

A table-flipping day

If you're feeling like I feel throw your fist through the ceiling
Some people call it crazy well I call it healing
If you need love turn around, do the helicopter
If you're sick, baby girl I would love to be your doctor

So burn it down, burn it down baby burn it burn it down
Burn it down, burn it down baby burn it burn it down
Motherfucker, burn it down, burn it down baby burn it burn it down

~~ “Burn It Down” by AWOLNATION

Some days it just doesn’t pay to chew through the restraints, you know?

It’s not a bad day, not at all. We got the incredibly good news that when it comes to the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare for the unenlightened) it looks like both “repeal and replace” and “just repeal the motherfucker” are dead in the water. The former due to some Senators feeling that it didn’t go far enough, which is more than a little disturbing, but hey, at least they said ‘nope.’ The latter was due to three—count ‘em, THREE—women Senators saying that it was cruel and would harm their constituents. Shelley Moore Capito of West Virginia said, “I didn’t come to Washington to hurt people.”

Seems like some of the female Senators didn’t take too kindly to being completely shut out of the committee that drafted the bill, eh? We’re the majority in the country, so next time, perhaps you might give us a voice, Mitch, whaddaya say?

Hahaha...what am I saying? As long as these guys are in charge, they’re going to keep trying to control what we do with our bodies. Yet another good reason to get more women in government, at all levels, and in all branches.

So that’s a good thing. It is also beautiful and green and lush here at Nutwood and I love this time of year, despite the heat and humidity. I got to see lots of birds today, and other little critters, including a couple of young turkeys and their mama!

Also, my homey James Comey is shopping a book deal among publishers this week and I am super excited to read it when it comes out AND Ken has already said that we can travel somewhere (maybe DC!) for a book signing if he does book signings, and the publishing company will probably want him to do book signings. I know a lot of my friends still have major reservations about him, but he’s become kind of a hero to me. Don’t laugh! For real. He stood up for what he thought was right and he basically was having none of the Yam’s bullshit so figured out how to continue the investigation even though he was out as head of the FBI and he figured out how to do it in a legal way but one that totally put the screws to the Vulgar Talking Yam. That, my friends, is something I can admire. That is ninja-level badassery coated in a handsome visage and Boy Scout demeanor. I can only hope to achieve that level at some point in my life, and he has already achieved it at just a couple of years older than me. I’ve got some work to do!

I also recently discovered an older but new-to-me band called Carbon/Silicon and that will be a Music Moment entry at some point. I listened to that today as well as AWOLNATION, a long-time favorite, as reflected in today’s music selection.

All in all, it was a good day. So why am I feeling so agitated and low-level angry? I’ve been thinking about it this afternoon and I can point to a couple of things.

First, there is a former friend who is posting some really bizarre shit on their page. I won’t go into the circumstances of why they defriended me but it was pretty absurd and instead of reaching out to me and asking me what was going on, they just decided that I didn’t like some political meme they posted and so I started “ignoring” them. Bitch, please. You think I don’t deal with friends and relatives who are super conservative? I live in Indiana, for Pete’s sake. Perhaps I was trying to preserve the friendship by not seeing every anti-Hillary, anti-Obama post you put up. Did you ever think of that? Nope, they just defriended without a word to me.

They did me a favor, though, because the stuff I’m seeing on their page is more of the same and worse. When I got a message from someone I wasn’t even friends with wondering what was going on, I figured it wasn’t me. I don’t take kindly to what was said about me and came through another person, so I will be channeling my inner Comey and taking my jabs here and there where I can. I am a very easy-going person, but I think it’s safe to say that you do not want to make an enemy of me.

Second, there was this late-afternoon story about Yam supporters from Vox. It gave statistics from a poll that showed that they simply do not believe that there is anything of importance about certain campaign people meeting with Russian operatives. 32% believe the meeting never took place, despite the fact that Yam, Jr. released the emails stating that it did.

This is absolutely astounding to me and utterly mind-boggling. This is some straight jacket level delusion. They aren’t just not believing news reports about it. We all know how they don’t listen to the news that contradicts their own narrative. They literally do not believe people intimately connected with the candidate and campaign they voted for.

I really do not know how to process this. I gave up trying to discuss anything with them long ago in order to preserve my own sanity. But this is just goes against everything I’ve valued and trusted in my life. The scientific method, verifiable facts, straight-up discussion using logic and reason, fucking RATIONALITY.

This is what is making me want to listen to rage music tonight. I’ll find my equilibrium soon—I always do—but this is the kind of shit that makes me question the intelligence and even the sanity of those who refuse to accept reality. I don’t know what the solution is. I really don’t.

So for now, I’ll just go with how I’m feeling.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

The Beguiled: Revisited

Come all you young fellows take warning by me
Don't go for a soldier, don't join no army
For the dove she will leave you, the raven will come
And death will come marching at the beat of a drum

~~ “Dove She Is A Pretty Bird” Unknown (sung by Clint Eastwood in the 1971 movie)

As soon as I heard that there was going to be a remake of “The Beguiled,” I knew I had to see it. I hadn’t even heard who was going to be in it, let alone seen a trailer, but since the original movie from 1971 is one of my all-time favorite movies, this was a must-see for me.

Unfortunately, despite over 50 screens in our area, not a single one of them was showing the movie! What the hell?? But there is a happy ending. We just happened to have a week in Kansas City planned, so last night was our chance to see it. We even got to see it at a classic theater in the Westport area, the Tivoli!

When a favorite movie is remade, dangers abound. Some of the portrayals of characters are so iconic that you can’t imagine anyone else in the role. (This is why I have never seen the remake of “Psycho.” My favorite movie EVER. Vince Effin’ Vaughn as Norman Bates? After Anthony Perkins? Are you KIDDING ME?? ARGH! Oddly enough, I loved Freddie Highmore’s portrayal of Norman in the TV series “Bates Motel,” but I’ve written about that before.) Sometimes something is just so right the first time that you don’t see why a remake is necessary. (For me, that would be the remake of “Carrie.” Brian De Palma’s version was perfect.)

So I was trepidatious about the remake of “The Beguiled.” I loved it from the first time I saw it on late-night TV. I was probably in junior high, and here was a young, absolutely gorgeous Clint Eastwood as a wounded Union soldier taken in by a Southern girls’ school. It’s been quite some time since the ladies of the school have enjoyed male company (said in my best Southern drawl), so you can imagine how things go. One of the teachers falls in love with him; the headmistress of the school is reminded of her brother and their relationship which was a little more than brother and sister, if you get my drift; one of the older students wants merely to bed him and learn about a man’s body; and then young, sweet Amy, the girl who finds him in the woods, sees him as a rather romantic figure, someone she has a bit of a crush on...but she isn’t quite old enough yet to understand why she loves “Mr. McB.”

Yowza! What’s not to love? Southern Gothic at its absolute best. It is dark and twisted and sexy and occasionally funny and so much fun.

I was happy when I saw the trailer for the remake. It looked like they had the general atmosphere right. When it finally came out, I started hearing great things about it, that Sofia Coppola had directed it perfectly. So I started feeling a little less trepidatious. Colin Farrell as Corporal John McBurney (Clint Eastwood’s role)? I can work with that. Nicole Kidman as Miss Martha Farnsworth, the headmistress? Not a huge fan of Nicole, but okay. Kirsten Dunst as the young teacher Edwina? Yes! I like Kirsten Dunst. Elle Fanning as the nubile student? (Carol in the original, Alicia in the remake.) Okay, I’m game.

The new cast did an absolutely fantastic job. Kidman was wonderful, playing Miss Martha with a mixture of strength and desire and determination. There’s a great scene where she gives McBurney a sponge bath and gets all het up and sweaty. The simmering sexuality of this handsome man in a girls' school is a perfectly delicious tension. Colin Farrell was very good, with the extra added bonus of an Irish accent. His McBurney came over from Dublin and went right into the Union army. But I have to say that Clint Eastwood is still THE John McBurney for me. Eastwood wins this battle.

*Mild spoilers ahead*

They make a few minor changes, like leaving out Miss Martha’s incestuous relationship with her brother. That’s a shame, because it added a layer of gothic creepiness to the story. I also missed the presence of Hallie, the slave in the original. I think that was an important part of the story, to show why the war was being fought. But other than that, it adhered fairly closely to the original.

The true star for me was the plantation house that served as the school as well as the land itself. I spent a few summers when I was in college in Georgia when my folks had a place there. Coppola captures perfectly the sluggish heat of a Southern summer. The humidity, the angle of the sun through the trees, the buzzing of the cicadas. There are gorgeous shots of pathways turned into tunnels by overhanging trees dripping with Spanish moss. The girls work in the garden, Alicia (AKA Carol) leaning lazily on her hoe, just feeling too damned hot to work anymore and she’s not cut out for this kind of work, anyway. The flickering candlelight in the columned house and the knock on the door of passing troops. Will it be friend or foe? Amy wandering barefoot in the woods, picking mushrooms and finding wounded Yanks. (I never found a Yank in the woods in Georgia...we were the Yanks!)

It has to be very difficult to capture a particular ambiance on screen. Coppola managed to do it so perfectly that I could almost feel the heat and humidity of my long-ago Georgia summers.

I absolutely loved this movie. I still love the original and will happily watch both many times in the coming years.

Thank you, Sofia Coppola, for not ruining one of “my” movies!

Monday, July 3, 2017

Towards a more perfect union

When a Nation cries
His tears fall down like missiles from the skies
Justice looked into Independence's eyes
Can you make everything alright?
And can you keep your old Nation warm tonight?

~~ “Justice and Independence ‘85” by John Mellencamp

This morning, an article popped up in my feed. It was titled “Is Patriotism Possible in Trump’s America?”, written by Jesse Berney for Rolling Stone. I highly recommend reading it. I was so struck by it that I posted it on Twitter and Facebook, and judging by the likes and retweets (including from the author), it struck a chord in others, too.

The premise is that many of us are feeling demoralized at what is happening in our country right now. We feel we have someone holding the highest office in the land who is neither qualified or intelligent or stable enough to hold that office. It’s kind of hard to be patriotic when you feel like an Ugly American, you know?

But the article states exactly WHY it is important for us to love our country. We want to see it do well, but we also want to make sure that we continue to work towards equality and justice for all. We want to see people get a hand up when they need it, and we want to see people held accountable when they do harm to others or to our country, no matter their status.

I’ve never been the type who was “my country right or wrong.” We’ve done plenty of horrible shit in our time and there was nothing ‘right’ about it at all. Because we care, we work towards progress. We work for fairness and we work for justice. We are and always have been a work in effort towards a “more perfect union.”

I’m tired of being labeled as unpatriotic because of my criticisms of the current occupant of the White House. Or of the Bush administration, which misled the American people and got us into a stupid war. (All wars are stupid, although some are justified, but that is one of the stupidest.) I’m tired of being told that I need to “respect the office.” How about this? I’ll start respecting the office again when HE does. This guy is one of the worst things to happen to the office, to the presidency, and to the world. I will never stop saying that.

I am a patriot. I love my country for the good it has done and can do in the world. I love it for our great achievements, our innovation, and our innate sense of goodness. (I still believe that.) We are experiencing a pretty serious glitch right now, but I am confident that we will fix it. 

Happy birthday, America. If I criticize you, it is only because I want to keep fighting to make you better for everyone and to make you continue to show the world that we are a force for good, not for ill. I haven’t given up on us yet and I hope the rest of the world won’t, either.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

A Nationwide Insanity

Jeebus Effin’ Christ, I am so sick of writing about this.






And here.

With every mass shooting we have in this country, my outrage and frustration grow. This keeps happening over and over and OVER and we still cannot bring ourselves to pass common sense gun laws, despite the majority of Americans favoring them. Even Republicans!

Congresswoman shot in the head? Nope.

Dozens shot and killed in a theater? Nope.

Twenty kids dead in their elementary school? Nope.

Nine dead in a South Carolina church? Nope.

Fifty dead in a nightclub in Orlando? Nope.

And now they—Republican House members—have been targeted. Several of their own were shot. The response?

They will not do anything to weaken the 2nd Amendment.

Some of the members will start carrying guns.

I honestly have to wonder just what the fuck is wrong with them. How can you look at what is going on here and look at our rates of gun violence vs other countries and NOT COMPREHEND that we have a major problem with guns? What is this bizarre fetish that we have with guns?

It is SICK. It is not normal, and it is not healthy. This isn’t the fucking Wild West and these open carry assholes are not fucking Wyatt Earp.

If you want to have guns to hunt, I support that. Well, I don’t support hunting. I think it’s gross and cruel and it makes me sick. I get it, though. But no one needs to be carrying guns around and it is about goddamn time that we start passing some common sense gun laws in this country.

You’re all so scared of terrorist attacks? From 2001 to 2014, for every life claimed by terrorism (including the 9/11 attack), over ONE THOUSAND died from gun violence. This is not just a matter of domestic terrorism and mass shootings, it is domestic violence, murders, and suicide. We have a major problem in this country and as long as our legislators continue to kiss National Rifle Association ass, this will not be solved.

The NRA is a boil on the ass of humanity. They don’t give a flying FUCK about dead kids or legislators who get shot in the head or a bunch of gays getting killed in a nightclub. All they care about is the money they can rake in with gun sales and lobbying.

As far as I’m concerned, they are a hate group, and they have so much blood on their hands that those damned spots will never be gotten out.