How are ya? It’s me Tazar, just checkin’ in with you. Everything good? That’s good.
Listen, Hollywood, I’m gonna put this bluntly:
STOP FORGIVING YOUR DUMBASS CELEBRITIES FOR BEING DUMBASSES.
Lindsay Lohan should be in jail for nearly killing people and ALWAYS having cocaine on her.
Mel Gibson should have been beaten to within an inch of his life 5 years ago, and again 5 months ago.
Charlie Sheen should have had a bullet through his head 25 god damn years ago.
Just because these people were in movies at some point (that’s debatable with Lohan) doesn’t mean they should be given free reign to act like completely spoiled, out of control, drug addicted assholes. If I did any one of the things that just these three fucking morons have done, I’d still be in jail right now. Stop being so lenient towards these coked out babies, and maybe they’ll stop acting like jackasses all the time.
Or don’t, whatever. I don’t give a shit. It just makes me feel glad that I live in Ohio. I don’t have to fear Lindsay Lohan driving 90 down the wrong way on I-270 and hitting me. I doubt the bitch even knows where Ohio is on a map.
“I bet George W Bush authorized a sign that read “Mission Accomplished” after the 7th inning”—ESPN The Magazine's Jorge Arangure, referring to Game 1 of the 2010 ALCS, in which the Yankees came back from a 5-0 deficit to take a 6-5 lead in the 8th inning and went on to win
"The Rain Song" Led Zeppelin Houses of the Holy (1973)
This year’s summer/fall transition has seen a number of dark-and-stormy nights, and so, to balance out the clamor — the crashing of thunder, the drenching downpours — here’s a song that recalls dreary days where soft showers fog up the windows and calmly wash away the stresses of daily life.
My mom, dad, and brother — all of whom work full-time — have the day off, while I have school as usual. Bah. Hell, my parents went apple-picking this morning, and all weekend, my mom kept forgetting that I have school today, so she repeatedly asked me, “Hey, do you want to come apple-picking with us? It’s going to be great!” And I had to keep going, “YOU KNOW I HAVE SCHOOL, DAMMIT.”
Yes, I just posted the same thing here, on twitter and on Facebook. Why? Because there are three different sets of people reading each one. I’m sorry if you overlap and I’m further sorry if you are offended by my repeated thing but dude, if something like that really irks you then I’m sorry you are irked by such ridiculous things.
Also, I post a lot on here when Todd isn’t around.
I need a “deal with it” gif for this.
I often do the same. If you see links to my Destructoid work in different places, it’d be awesome if you could click each time!
John Shore castigates fellow Christians who condemn homosexual acts as sinful:
“Here is that Big Difference between homosexuality and other sins: There is no sin I can commit that, by virtue of committing it, renders me incapable of loving or being loved. I can commit murder. I can steal. I can rob. I can rape. I can drink myself to death. I can do any terrible thing at all—and no one would ever claim that intrinsic to the condition that gave rise to my doing that terrible thing is that I am, by nature, simply incapable of giving or receiving love. No one tells the chronic drinker, or glutton, or adulterer, or any other kind of sinner, to stop experiencing love. Yet that’s exactly what so many Christians are insisting gay people do.
When you tell a gay person to “resist” being gay, what you are really telling them—what you really mean—is for them to be celibate. What you are truly and actually saying is that you want them to condemn themselves to a life devoid of love. Be alone, you’re demanding. Live alone. Don’t hold anyone’s hand. Don’t snuggle on your couch with anyone. Don’t cuddle up with anyone at night before you fall asleep. Don’t have anyone to chat with over coffee in the morning. Do not bind your life to that of another. Live your whole life without knowing that joy, that sharing, that peace. Just say “no” to love.
Be alone. Live alone. Die alone.
The “sinful temptation” that Christians are forever urging LGBT people to resist is love. Being, of course, the one thing Jesus was most clear about wanting his followers to extend to others.”
This is great but you can take it a little further and say it’s not just Christians this pertains to. It’s about anyone who thinks someone should deny themselves the pleasure of loving someone and being loved based on their own feelings. If you think homosexuality is an abomination then you go ahead living your life thinking just that. But how dare you decree that someone should live and die alone or be forbidden from loving who they want to because you think it’s wrong.
Some of us are meeting up on October 23rd around 9 p.m. at Bar On A. It’s an unofficial meetup but only unofficial in the sense of what’s official and what am I talking about. It’s not a secret, though. Everyone who lives here and everyone who doesn’t but has a couch to crash on is welcome. There’s a Facebook page? Yell at me if this link goes nowhere? You’d think I knew how to use the internet, but nope. Just Tumblr. So please spread the word and let people know that not hearing about it before or getting an invite via FB doesn’t mean they aren’t invited. :) Thanks, dudes! Hope a bunch of you can make it!
I don’t know if I was bullied as much as tormented. Maybe it’s the same thing. And I don’t know why I was bullied. I was small. I was quiet. I liked to read. I don’t know. You know how every school has that one kid that everyone picks on? That was me in grade school. I was that kid.
There were the two neighbor boys that followed me to school and followed me home, calling me names, laughing at me. Sometimes they would hide in a neighbor’s yard and throw rocks at me when I walked past. There was the girl across the street who pretended to be my friend when we were at home but told me if I ever let anyone in school know we hung out together at home she’d beat me up.
There were specific moments like the days when we were allowed to go home for lunch and everyone was supposed to pick a friend to bring home with them and I was the only one without a partner and I can still see the frightened, horrified look on the face of every kid in the class when the teacher said she would pick someone for me to have lunch with. There was the day when the second most picked on girl in the school finally joined up with the cool kids and started bullying me. I never felt so alone. There were the names, the words, the pushes and shoves, the constant visits to the nurse’s office so I wouldn’t have to face my tormentors out on the playground during recess. They played jokes on me. Horrible, awful jokes that left me crying, hurt and bewildered. They took pride in humiliating me. They shared the stories of their bullying success with everyone else.
As I got older, the bullying became different. There were more of them. They befriended me in a weird sort of way. They let me hang out with them just so they could abuse me and I let them because - and they were pretty blunt about this - no one else would be my friend so I might as well stick around and take their bullshit (a pre-cursor to the “no one else will love you so you might as well stay with me” relationships I developed later on). The torment took on different tones. There were favors (I’ll let you come to the movies with us if you do this) and the favors were later turned into emotional blackmail and that was a cycle of doing things I didn’t want to do because I had no other choice. I had no self esteem. I had no sense of self worth. I was zero. And the only way I could not be a zero was to put on this stupid show as if I was friends with all these people, these boys and girls who did things to me that to this day affect who I am and how I view relationships.
They hurt me - mostly emotionally but sometimes physically - and they made me feel like I had nothing to offer anyone, that I was somehow lesser than them. I was different. I was not as good. I would never be as good. I would never be like them. There was something wrong with me. And there was. There was something wrong with me because I let this happen, I let them bully me and torment me and turn me into a person who valued nothing about herself. Nothing. I gave away everything I was just to be accepted into this group and what the hell kind of acceptance was that?
Eventually I left them behind but I never let go of what they did to me and what I allowed them to do to me.
Many years later when my son was in grade school, I discovered he was being bullied. When I went to the school to take some action - because god damn it I was not going to let him go through what I did - I came face to face with his bully’s father. One of my own childhood bullies. Apple, tree etc.
I like to think I taught my children better than this man taught his. Because of everything I endured, I taught them to be empathetic and caring. I taught them to treat everyone with equal respect. I taught them to reach out to people who seem to be hanging on the fringe and most of all I taught them to have respect for themselves and who they are and never let anyone else make them feel like a lesser human being for any reason whatsoever. Never be afraid to be yourself. Don’t let anyone make you base your self worth on their image of you. Stand up for yourself. Speak out for yourself and then speak out for others.
It’s not enough to to tell them how to react when they are being bullied. You have to tell them how not to be a bully. You have to teach them to respect everyone else and respect their differences and never treat anyone in a way you would not want to be treated. It’s not enough to protect them. You have to teach them that is their duty as decent human beings to protect those who need it. It’s not enough to teach them to stand up for themselves. You have to teach them to stand up for others.
I didn’t speak up for myself. No one, not even a single teacher, spoke up for me. Everything that happened then has shaped my personality and my life. You can’t just look at a twelve year old kid who is being bullied for whatever reason and say “It’s just part of childhood” or “Kids will be kids.” You need to teach your children that it’s not ok to bully someone just because you don’t like how they live and you have to teach your children that it’s not ok to stand in silence while another kid is being bullied. We all need allies. Without allies we are nothing. And no one deserves to feel like nothing. Not a gay kid, not a fat kid, not a kid with a disability, not a kid who is just not like everyone else because they are quiet or smart or dress funny. Kids grow up to be bullies because they are not taught to NOT be bullies. It’s up to the rest of us to stand up for those who feel like they have no voice and become their allies. It’s up to us to teach our children well. What better way to teach them than by doing?
Does it get better? Yes, it does. But it takes a lot of people to make it get better.
The best thing you can do in this life is make a difference in someone else’s. Do it now.
Read this. All of this.
I could write something essentially identical based on my own miserable youth in Long Island, when I had one or two friends and was mercilessly picked on between third grade and ninth grade (and even when I did get friends in high school, I ended up as the punching bag of the group). Bullying is one of those things that changes you psychologically — after a while, it’s not that you like it or anything, but you just… resign yourself to it. Not only that, but you assume that it’s normal for you to feel like that all the time — “I guess this is just my lot in life,” I used to think, “I’ll always be that scrawny, defenseless kid who gets pushed around.”
And that feeling never really goes away. Even today, at 23 going on 24, somebody at school or work (or anywhere, really) will make an offhand comment — or a direct put-down — and instantly, I’m transported back to 11-year-old me, who didn’t have a birthday party because he didn’t have any friends to invite (quick aside: the flashbacks to Barney’s childhood in this week’s episode of How I Met Your Mother hit home for me). 11-year-old me also didn’t get any photos with friends when he graduated from sixth grade because, well, whom would he take pictures with?
Another lasting effect is a lifelong insecurity: you assume — even at the most innocuous joke at your expense — that people don’t actually like you, and that they only keep you around as long as you’re useful to them (maybe it’s because you proofread their work, which makes them look better, or because you know stuff about computers and can fix theirs). In addition, you’re always going out of your way to be nice and accommodating to others, letting them take advantage of your time and talents because you want so desperately for them to like you; inevitably, this means that you constantly feel underappreciated.
You’re always afraid that people are secretly laughing at you — that as soon as you turn around and leave their presence, they’re saying things like, “Wow, Samit is such a loser. Why do we hang out with that guy again?” Hell, you’re not just afraid of it; you assume it. Consequently, it becomes difficult for you to approach other people (say, to ask them out on a date) or let them get close to you, because you’re constantly (A) assuming they don’t actually enjoy your company and are just putting up with you because it’s easier than actively ignoring you, and (B) expecting them to ditch you as soon as someone “cooler” comes along, even if you do become close. So you keep everyone around you at arm’s length, because you’ve gotten hurt so many times before. Then you just quietly watch as those people find success and happiness one by one, and you grow increasingly envious and bitter, because it seems like you’ll be stuck in this rut by yourself forever. In turn, you retreat into your room, isolating yourself by sitting inside and playing video games or watching TV/movies or surfing the web or sleeping — instead of spending time with other people, because at some point, everybody else in your life just becomes a cruel reminder of how comparatively lame and lonely you are. So you merely trudge through life, meekly going about your business, hoping that someday, something — or someone — will come along and pull you out of this cycle of misery that began so long ago.
Long story short: It gets better, but so far, only marginally so. Also, I’m convinced that I’m going to die alone.
(Okay, that was much more “emo” and personal than I usually get on this blog. I will soon return you to your regularly scheduled programming of video games, funny webcomics, internet memes, and photography.)