I just read my previous post to see if I would shrink from embarrassment and regret my strongly worded stance.
I do not. I still stand by every word, including every "f*ck."
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Okay bitches. Listen up.
(And by "bitches" I mean those of you who are complaining in any way, shape or form about our so-called "Obamacare.")
I know that swearing up a storm in a personal essay or blog post is at best a show of laziness and at worst a hallmark of unimaginative and unoriginal writing. But sometimes, bitches, it just fucking needs to be done.
Because I am fucking sick and tired of listening to people on both sides of the aisle talk about what a "disaster" the Obamacare rollout has been.
I am sick of listening to the media harp on Obama's "lies" about people being able to keep their shitty, expensive plans with minimal coverage. Boo fucking hoo. For one thing, you are taking Obama's mistaken use of the word "period" too fucking literally. Seriously, bitches. Do you have nothing better to do than split hairs about what it means to "keep your plan"? For example, can you possibly conceive of the notion that having a plan cancelled and then immediately replaced by a similar or better plan at a similar or better price could be construed as somewhere in the neighborhood of "keeping your plan"?
Well then go fuck yourself, because I am tired listening to you bitch about your fucking little first-world problem. You have a fucking insurance plan, so go fuck yourself after you get back from your doctor's appointment. And have her prescribe you some anti-psychotics while you're there, because if you think this "problem" that this "liar" of a president caused you is a bigger problem than not having access to a health plan at all, you're too fucking insane and/or just plain stupid for me even to deal with.
That's right. Fuck off.
And those of you who have nothing better to do than complain about the buggy websites needed to sign up for "Obamacare" can go fuck yourselves even harder. That's right. And please, fuck yourselves raw, with no lube.
Because guess what, bitches? IT'S A FUCKING WEBSITE. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK IF THE WEBSITE IS NOT WORKING PERFECTLY.
What the fuck do you think this is, people? For the first time in modern US history, we are at the cusp of joining the rest of the civilized fucking industrialized first world by guaranteeing basic healthcare to every citizen. THAT is a FUCKING BIG DEAL, bitches. If you can't look one inch beyond your little pea brains to recognize the magnitude of this achievement, go live on some fucking desert island because you don't even deserve to be here.
So we're worried about the "disaster" that this rollout has been, huh? Well, bitches, try THIS on for a disaster: Say you get laid off from your job where you're making a comfortable upper middle class income, something close to six figures, or just over six figures. And you're 50. Say your Cobra runs out and you still haven't found a job, because remember, you're fucking 50. You probably carry a little more weight than is ideal, and you may have some hypertension or cholesterol issues. Or you're a cancer survivor. Or you have well managed diabetes.
Without Obamacare, what the FUCK are you expecting to do if you get sick? Or get into a bad car accident? Do you think any fucking insurance company is going to sign you up for a health policy? At least one that provides any reasonable level of coverage? FUCK NO.
You have a house, and some savings. Do you think that if you get cancer, or a brain injury, or anything else that will cost a million fucking dollars to treat, that you will get to keep that house and savings as well as get medical treatment? FUCK NO.
That house and those savings will be GONE in a matter of days, bitches. And there won't be a goddamn thing you can do about it. Everything you've worked for your whole fucking adult life will be GONE, just like that. All because you got hit by some fucking uninsured drunk driver. Or an insured one, even. Or because you got cancer. Or fell down and broke your spine. Etc. etc. etc.
I just don't understand you, bitches. For the first time in modern US history, we can all go to bed and sleep at night because we now know that by law we are entitled to a reasonable health plan.
And that is such a fucking disaster.
Oh, but wait. The website doesn't work. Fuck the whole thing. Let's just go back to the way it's been. Just make sure you have a job until the day you're eligible for Medicare. We all know from 2008-2009 how realistic THAT is.
That's right, bitches. I'm done. I'm going up the river and I'm taking names.
Shut the FUCK UP about Obamacare. Unless you have something nice to say.
As everyone likes to say these days, THAT IS ALL.
Friday, November 08, 2013
So coming back to Blogger feels a bit like returning to a childhood home that has been abandoned. I was looking at the link list of blogs I used to follow, which are organized on the right side of my screen, in order by which they were last updated. Only the very few at the top have been active within the past few months. After that, there are a series of blogs on the list whose latest posts say "So long!" or "The end!" or something similarly foreboding.
But I'm still going to hang out here, because I need a place to deposit the noise in my head (the music is so pretty!) However, something tells me this isn't going to be any sort of homecoming or return to the high days of blogging circa 2006.
And that will have to be ok. It's a new beginning, and who knows what we may find lurking in the shadows. Hopefully it just won't be that creepy babysitter/neighbor I had as a young boy. I never cared much for his "games."
I've said it before, and I'll continue to say it: I will never permanently delete or retire CPW. The blogosphere needs it.
(For what, I have no idea, but it sounded like a good thing to say.)
Thursday, November 07, 2013
Normally around this time CP would pretend to sit down with former blogger and current West African superstar Lulu to ask her a load of embarrassing questions, but tonight we have a reverse format where Lulu is going to pretend to interview CP. At least that's the intention; one never knows the twists and turns these things can take.
Lulu: So CP, I hear you're a little depressed these days. What is going on, and what makes you think this is appropriate fodder for a blog?
CP: You mean everyone doesn't want to listen to the soothing, plaintive sounds of my ennui?
Lulu: Nice word, CP - you do recall you learned that from me, don't you?
CP: Well it's actually just a derivative of a French word that I learned long before I ever met you, Lu. I did learn a thing or two in my pre-Lulian existence. But you may have been one of the first in my circle to make regular use of the English version, and for that I thank you. Heartily.
Lulu: Touché, CP. So you're a bit off these days, as a polite person might put it?
CP: Yeah, I guess so. But I'm sure I'll bounce back. I'm considering taking a week off work and reorganizing my house. That's the kind of thing that can give me a lift and shock me back into reality.
Lulu: I've been to reality CP, and it's no picnic. If you've found somewhere else to live for a while, you might want to just hunker down until the storm passes. Plus, this thing about you wanting to "organize" things is giving me hives.
CP: Sorry Lu, I forgot that it wasn't all about me. So, what suggestions do you have for me other than to go off on a compulsive decluttering binge?
Lulu: I don't know CP, this whole thing is just you pretending to be me asking you questions. But I can see your alter-ego trying to take control of the interview, so tell me whatever you'd like. Just try not to sound psychotic. This whole "reality" discussion is starting to give me the creeps.
CP: You're not going to complain that I'm making you sound like a bitch again, are you?
Lulu: I've given up any hope of that. So, what is next on your agenda?
CP: I'm not sure. I think I'll try to slog through my emails to make sure I haven't skipped anything that would result in a fireable offense. I'll take care of my expense reports and a few other administrative duties that are several weeks late. Then I'll schedule some time out of the office so that I can declutter and try to pull it back together.
Lulu: That sounds like a plan. Pretend to be me again in a few weeks and let me know how things turn out.
CP: Thanks Lu. Any closing words of wisdom for me?
Lulu: Post as many cat pics as possible Kiss kiss.
Wednesday, November 06, 2013
I’ve decided to revive Coaster Punchman’s World, not that I ever took an official reprieve. But I miss writing, and CPW was a convenient outlet.
Things have gotten shaky on the family front, with my elderly parents having a variety of health and other problems. The stress I’ve felt from dealing with it is now settling into a semi-debilitating depression. Not the kind of depression (yet) that keeps me from leaving the house, but the kind that slows down, significantly, my ability to tackle anything even remotely challenging. The thing suffering the most is my work.
I am almost completely unable to concentrate, and the effort that would be required to do the things that I know would help (exercise, bathe, declutter my surroundings) feels overwhelming.
I am able to get myself out of the house for non-stressful socializing, for which I am grateful. For the moment I’ve just lost interest in almost everything else that requires any amount of planning or effort.
Enough whining about that for a few minutes. I just wanted to get that out of my system.
Next on deck: some of the quandaries of Facebook and its implications on social interactions.
I read with interest the following Miss Manners submission, and find it fascinating. People do have different takes on Facebook. With the exception of a few odd celebrities, I generally do not friend or accept friend requests from people I wouldn’t care to socialize with in person. Not everyone feels that way, though. I’ve noticed not a small number of people who merely enjoy some of the online banter, and who want to know what people are up to, but who otherwise don’t really want any kind of relationship to speak of.
I’m not sure how I feel about that – but, thankfully, decisions don’t need to be made every day on that front. I’ve made peace with the quandary by interacting with people I care to interact with, and not worrying too much about the rest.
Some people actively “unfriend” people they find annoying, but I don’t see the need to do that since it’s easy enough simply to remove someone from your newsfeed so that you are not bombarded by posts and images from a person you’d rather not see.
Still, what I find rather problematic about Facebook is having “friends” who live nearby. For a while I had a policy of not friending people in my own city, since it can make social interactions awkward. For example, not everyone in a particular circle is always invited to every dinner party or outing – which means it is not a good idea to post photos of local events for fear of insulting the people who were excluded.
Same goes for major events like big parties and weddings. When these things are made public on Facebook, it becomes obvious who is valued enough to an individual to warrant an invitation and who is not. On the one hand, it’s useful information to know where one stands with specific people, but in my opinion it’s easier and certainly more convenient to do things the old fashioned way. If Billy is having a birthday party and Bobby is not invited, the party should simply never be mentioned to Bobby. The kind of stuff we (should) learn at a young age about basic manners. Facebook complicates all of that to a maddening degree.
On to the Miss Manners letter and reply to which I referred earlier in this post:
Dear Miss Manners: I joined Facebook when I had cancer, as a way of posting my current status. I was following others’ suggestions and did not like it for this use. I do, however, like it for other reasons. I can keep an eye on my daughter, as well as my nieces and nephews.
I can also reconnect with old friends and, as a nostalgic person, I enjoy this. I also enjoy the ability to share photographs of said friends. I befriend only people I have fond memories of, or whom I just liked.
But that doesn’t necessarily mean I actually want to resume an old friendship! As a mother of young kids who works part time and volunteers, I have a hard enough time finding time for my friends and myself as it is.
Now an old friend in a nearby town has befriended me. While I enjoyed her company in my 20s, the friendship ended when I realized how badly she was an alcoholic. Still, there were things I really enjoyed about her.
Now, 15 years later, she mentioned on Facebook that she would like to get together. I don’t know if alcohol is still a problem, but I just can’t extend myself that far, both in terms of where she lives and the potential for toxicity.
Can you think of a polite way to tell her (or others in similar situations) that I really enjoyed hearing from her and seeing her occasional posts, her family, etc., but that I don’t particularly want to reconnect with her in person? Am I kidding myself about the possibility of a polite way to convey such a message?
Gentle Reader: No, there is no polite way to tell someone that you want to know their personal business but don’t actually want to talk to them. This phenomenon used to be known as gossip, and in Miss Manners’ opinion, Facebook has ruined its fun for everyone.
When you want to avoid human contact, the usual social rules apply. Tell her that this is an extremely busy time for you, but that you hope to connect in the (unspecified) future. To make it more convincing, for goodness’ sake don’t post your social life on Facebook for awhile.