The South

I'm from the South.
And please don't tell me that Florida isn't the South. Maybe South Florida, isn't but the rest of Florida is.
Anyway, a pleasant catch-up with an old friend was almost ruined by poo-pooing the South. The old friend had re-located down south and was talking about how different it was. But what began to irritate me in that narrative was the insinuation that the South had some monopoly on racism. It doesn't, it just was manifested differently and it is more blatent and in your face. Northern racism is more subtle, harder to pin down and is slimer than an eel in that it allows the Northern racist to claim innocence. Martin Luther King had the darnest problem with Chicago, and Detroit, L.A., and Boston (think bussing in the 70s) aren't necessarily racial utopias where equality flows. And just because the area where one grew up didn't have any black, or Native American, or brown Latinos around to bother discriminating against, does not make one better than the Southerner who is being judged.
I also felt the need to speak out against the other form of white superiority, where the brown, native or whatever person is given the signal that he or she or his or her people are too incompetent to do anything and must be saved, rescued, placed in permanent dependence by the White man. Energy by the hero white is spent to focus on the goodness of the white and the pitiful plight of the brown, rather than truely enpowering the brown enough to help his/her ownself. Pity rather than commpassion.

Craigslist once again damages my faith in humanity

I have a chair. I want to give it away. It is a nice chair but, I haven't used it much. It fails to roll on carpet and the rollers damage wood floors so it sat in the basement.
Now were it not for the friendly neighborhood drug dealers I would have put it on the sidewalk with a nice "FREE" sign. Drug dealers like chairs. Especially nice cushioned chairs with wood detailing and wheels. So the sign option was out. I couldn't figure out pictures and Freecycle so Craigslist.
I don't know why I keep doing this. Maybe because it is less worse than trying to find a roommate, but Craigslist puts me in contact with the flakes of the world. But before I go on I must admit I committed a Craigslist sin and I blame my contractor. I wanted insulation. I wanted my contractor to pick it up. My contractor wanted nothing to do with it and told the listee (as far as I know) it wasn't worth it. I felt bad because of all the back and forth.
Anyway, guy emails me, says his friend wants my chair, I call him, leave a message, his friend calls me. The friend and I settle on a something that diverges from my post because I actually put a pick up window. After work, before I go to bed, is the window. Didn't work for friend. So I agree to leave it outside for a time, cover it up, blah. Next morning chair still in yard. So I go to the next person who emailed me about the chair, offer it to him. I'll know later this evening if he's another no show. If he is, I'll contact the next person. I get a call from the no-show friend, who wanted to go into an explanation that pretty much insulted my neighborhood.
Jimmney Christmas, if you don't want to be wandering in the hood in the AM then don't set up a pick up time in the f*ing AM. I want to take my fellow humans at their word. If you say you want to buy my laurel bay for $45 and you live "round the corner" then you better fraking return my fraking phone call and pick up the plant with money in hand. Do not call me a week later offering $35. No. I'll keep my gods dang plant. (Guess who was up all night watching BSG?) And same goes for the heart pine wood. Either you want it or you don't. Don't jerk me around saying you're going to come, ask me to stick around the house for a window of time that resembles what I've got to deal with from the pest control dude. Somethings aren't worth the $10 I'm asking for.

Not Even Halloween Yet

...and I'm seeing mention of Christmas.
Seriously.
Will the people in charge of the civil, secular xmas please for the love of your unknown god zip it till Thanksgiving.

I wanna be selfish

'Cause selfish me would be going to Universal Studios. Instead we are more than likely going to go to some garden in Orlando, and walk around. Mom didn't want us spending money.
Stupid economy.
Last year we did Sea World. The year before that Disney. I figured we should hit the one big amusement park I have never been to this year. But noooooo.
Yes in theory I could rent my own car, and grab my niece and go off to the theme park of my choice, but I'm too cheap for that. Also I'd never hear the end of it.
Worst of it, I'm hanging out with Baptists who will be on their best behavior. Which means I'll get strange looks or someone is going to bring it to my attention should I order a 'spirited' drink.
Well at least the weather is supposed to be nice.

Mass but harder

Second time at Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering (aka Immaculate Conception Roman Catholic Church)'s Latin Mass. I don't think I've cursed so much in my head (not like I'm actually going to let the words escape) as I do with the Latin Mass. The Latin Mass has some things going for it over the Saturday Mass (29 minutes or less or your next mass is free). For one, there are songs I can sing. Saturday, no singing. Sunday there is a sheet but no music, and I need to see the music even though I am semi-musically illiterate. Unfortunately tonight someone decided that one of the hymns should be sung in Latin.
Okay, Latin. I took Latin in college as a mistake. That was the semester I learned you should add classes before dropping them,, during Add/Drop. I got a C. I made up shyte and the instructor didn't care because she couldn't get tenure so what was the point of trying. Once I get comfortable with Latin, I'm sure I will hear it as a beautiful language. But for the time being, I'm thinking Iuesus f* what the f* was that, where are we now? Imagine that while I'm flipping through the missal trying to match up the rhythm of what Father is saying with the English portion of the page to find the Latin side of the page and match up whatever the f he's saying with the funky Latin pronunciation that's screwing me up.
As I wrote, this was my second Latin Mass. I'm sure after a dozen Latin masses Il have it down and will be able to sing the Nicene creed without resorting to mumbling 'whatever.'

For added linguistic fun I've been listening to the French Canadian band Mes Aïeux (guess whose blog I've been reading) but the remix of Dégénérations here and here.
Regular with English Subtitles

I still don't want your d*mned pity

I think, and I'm not 100% sure, that I was the subject of someone's pity. I hope I am wrong. Though the more I think of it the madder I get. Luckily, if my theory is correct, it has blown back into the pitier's face. And that gives my little sadistic self, joy.
The reason for the anger, is the problem with pity (as opposed to compassion), in that you just see the problem and not the person. Yes, I'm imperfect in many ways, some that I readily acknowledge, but many of those imperfections are not really worth pity. I just find it insulting that I'm defined by my problems and imperfections. Another problem is I believe I'm everyone's equal. Well, in general. Yes, there are people better than me when it comes to math, science, theology, etc, however when it comes to my worth as a person, I believe I'm your equal, and by the same token you are mine. Pity, to me seems to mess with that notion of equality.
But I'm not innocent. I have pitied. I pity because it is cheaper and faster than compassion.

Not by faith alone

Last evening, I ran into one of my neighbors, Bry who was sweeping up the sidewalks and the gutters. Bry and his wife are great neighborhood assets. The bought their troublesome (water problems like you would not believe) house after years of renting. They had come from Chicago, where they lived between the territories of a Latin gang and a Black gang, oh and they're white. As a way of dealing with the gangs, Bry would sweep up the trash and pray for the dealers... quite audibly. Anyway, he still sweeps up trash, usually on the weekends, but he said the weather was so nice, why not that evening?
Bry besides his pay the mortgage job of non-profit faith based grant something or another, is an artist. And we got on the topic of Christians and art and I was so relieved to find another soul who despises bad liturgical dance as I do. Sadly, I've only witnessed one example of good lit dance, most of it, as Bry said, are girls waving their arms going 'look at me, look at me.' As an artist, Bry finds that sort of thing offensive. We talked about how important it is to be skilled and programs to train Christians to actually be good at something and be in the secular world. The purpose not being to aggressively push the gospel, as agnostics and atheists might interpret the activity. But rather, to be a presence and minister when the opportunities present themselves.
So I leave you with this:
Say no to bad Christian Art
Say no to bad christian music
Say no to bad christian dance
Say no to bad christian movies
Say no to bad christian novels
And avoid the Left Behind Series like the plague.

Don't make me turn around

Okay I was sitting in a spot where I heard two gentlemen yakking away during service. Now it would have been okay if they were doing a better job at whispering, but no they weren't. I really debated about turning around and giving a nasty look. If you need to ask, the men were above the age of 30 and below 80, so they should have known better than providing a play by play of what's going on.
Oh, I also need to mention that there are a few mucky-mucks who attend the Church of the Really, Really, Blond People, so that was the subject of the conversation, where Gentleman A was pointing out who was who to Gentleman B.

Rant- Craigslist

I like Craigslist. However, posting on Craigslist opens me up to being annoyed with humanity. Mainly because of the flake factor.
Say I want to sell a $20 piece of furniture. Now, this is only for $20, so there is a certain level of headache I'm willing to be bothered with. No, you can't just come to the house and look at it. Either you want it or not based on the description and if the description or a question asked in one email about some feature I didn't think relevant. I post pictures, that's part of the info package. However I'm not a store and I hate the idea of rushing back from work and sitting around the house for you to show, or not show. I could have been doing something else.
I have a few things in the basement that need a new home, and I'm loathing the Craigslist drama. Pray for me.