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"Yesterday's Bitches, 61-70" #61, #62, #63, #64, #65, #66, #67, #68, #69, #70 A two-fer! #1 Damn! I Forgot To Bitch!!!
Actually I didn’t forget
to bitch, I just forgot to write it down. Hell, I had so much to bitch about the end of
last month and the first part of this one that I would have gotten carpal tunnel had
I tried to write it all down. Of course that won’t stop me trying now. Let’s see, the short
list. I had to go to the funeral of a four-year-old who had been placed with his murdering
father after one of my best friends—gay—had been trying to adopt the boy for
three and a half years. Six months ago the system decided he was better off with his
biological father and took him out of my friend’s home where he had lived his whole
life. Now either the father or his wife killed the boy. To make matters worse, the
investigation is still pending, and the police have yet to make an arrest. I won’t
say more about that because there is still another child hanging in the balance, and my
friend is trying desperately to regain custody of her. Since a dog got through
what I thought was my “dog proof” fence and killed yet another goat, I
immediately added an electric fence on top of what I had.
But then one of our writers—who also writes dog books—said a dog
could jump a 5 foot six inches tall fence flat footed, and that my fence needed
to be six feet tall, so... I added two strands of barbed wire above the electric—no
small task—for two days in the cold and wound up sick. A car ran through the
front of My father did what my
father normally does at any festive occasion, but to the ninth power on Christmas
day—I’m Jewish but my family isn’t and they celebrate Christmas so we all
go—he was so bad it brought back repressed childhood memories. Then I had to swallow
my anger and I had to be the one to take him to have eye surgery two days later. My son Meyer married
his wife Tasha on the 30th of December. Joyous occasion right? Well the actual
wedding was, although Lynn and I—with help from my sisters and Tasha’s
mom—did the ceremony and reception at our house. The wedding went off
without a hitch except for my dad’s comments which Meyer is still fuming about
because without it, it would have been a perfect day for him. Tasha is a lot more laid
back then the rest of us. Thank God! Clean up was a bitch, but
all the crap was worth it because Meyer and Tasha are happy. While cleaning up before
the wedding I found termites in my entrance hall and dealt with them quickly, but
I’ll have to make a complete check of the house and spray everything and then put a
new floor—at least—in the entrance hall. That will have to wait till it warms
up. Shit happened with my
writing career which sucked on ice, but I’m not going to talk about that now. Just
get off your asses, go to your local book store and scream until they order Strange Robby, because long story short, it’s
still sitting in the warehouse. Then the sewer backed up
and I got to spend a day crawling around under the house in raw sewerage until I fixed it
because of course even though I’m not a “bonded professional” I still know
how to do all that shit and can’t afford to have a “bonded professional”
come in and do it. My sister Tad fell up a
flight of stairs, twisted her ankle, and screwed up her knee. I had to work on that—I
do massage and some chiropractic. No, I’m not a “bonded
professional”—she’s mostly better now. My mom hurt her foot, and I had to
fix that. Then there were the
floods which had me wadding around in ice cold water while the rain drenched me from the
top—and of course my new rubber boots leaked. I had to go out three times a day and
clear ditches to keep the barn and chicken yard and pasture from flooding, and then
there was the bitter cold and ice—which, yes, I’m well aware others got it far
worse then we did—which means I have to spend at least an hour and a half a day in
the cold breaking ice for the animals, feeding them and bringing the hay, and bringing in
fire wood which is all a little harder to do when you’re skating on ice. We did our first
convention of the year and lost our asses. To make matters worse we were so tired from
everything else that we didn’t even really enjoy ourselves. Then on one very cold day
I decided I just needed to take a day off so I sat down and watched the entire third
season The L Word in one day, and... well it
sucked on ice. Just dark, depressing plots one after another, ending on the lowest note
yet. All the self help gurus
will tell you to concentrate on all that’s good in your life, but... Well you want to
hear the high points for the same period? The wedding went really well and Meyer actually
thanked me and said it was perfect, which made any amount of crap worthwhile. I really
like Tasha and her family. Joy and Jo—also big fans of The L Word—agree that season three sucked, and
it’s always nice to know that it wasn’t just me and I haven’t reached that
point where everything sucks. We went to a party at Ted and Chris’s which was really
fun. I was only sick for a week. I got some really cool crap that they threw away at So that’s it.
That’s the high points. See the scale tipping? It doesn’t look good, but wait!
You know what is always good? At a moment’s notice I can tug a bitch right out of my
ass, so please enjoy... Shut Up and Take It, You Rich Fucks!!! My head is ringing with
all the whining from all the famous, rich fucks who are taking offense at what
comics—or anyone else says in the media—says. Here’s a big piece
of wisdom for them. Let it go! You’re rich
and famous, who cares what people say? Come on, no one’s talking about all the
careers you crippled to get where you are or all the “little people” you ground
into the ground. There’s always some
celebrity getting pissed off by something Kathy Griffin says in her act. Christ,
she’s a comic just trying to make her nut, so what if she does it making fun of the
rich and famous? Who better to make fun of? If they can’t handle it, they should give
all their money away and go undercover, since it causes them such pain to be rich and
famous. Hey rich guys, get a
life! Comedy is cutting edge;
that means you often step on the toes of good taste. Humor comes from what’s
absolutely outrageous, and in the case of celebrities, it’s often saying that thing
that everyone’s thinking and no one’s saying because they are rich and famous,
and quite frankly I love to see these people knocked off their little clay
feet. No one is perfect.
Celebrities are held up by us all and worshiped, and every once in awhile they need
to be knocked down a peg. Family Guy constantly pushes the envelope of good
taste—I still watch this one religiously—and they’re always spitting on
some celebrity. But most of those aren’t raising a giant stink about it because they
aren’t jerks. And that brings us to the
Trump/O’Donald feud. This has been blown all out of proportion. There are wars and
rumors of wars, and the weather is kicking our ass thanks to global warming, and radical
Christians and Muslims and top physicist agree on only one thing—that the
world’s about to come to an end. And what are all
the news stations covering? What’s on every news cast? This “celebrity
feud,” that’s what. I saw the episode of The
View on which Rosie said what she said about Trump. I didn’t think it was overtly
mean, especially not when coming from an admittedly, gay, pari-menopausal female
comic talking about the fucking Miss What? Guess what, Mr. Trump,
you’re right. To Joe America having a company or two or three going bankrupt and
leaving thousands of people without jobs and other executives suicidal isn’t the same
thing as personal bankruptcy at all—it ’s
worse. Now if I’d have had
my way, Rosie wouldn’t have acknowledged him at all when he started his insane shit.
She would have just totally ignored him. But at least she didn’t give in to just
attacking him every single day like he did to her. Of course I don’t check
Rosie’s blog; I imagine she’s said some pretty hideous things there, but she
hasn’t done it on the air since that first day. Yet Trump... well, he’s gone
insane. He’s “going to send someone to steal Rosie’s girl friend.”
What kind of fucking, warped comeback is that? “She’s a fat loser.” A loser, Mr. Trump? Rosie
actually has talent—something he’ll never have. He’s a rich fuck who bought
himself fame hosting a TV show where the worst in people is rewarded and people with
ethics are fired. He has a bad comb over and keeps a look on his face like he just
smelled shit. And guess what? He’s fat, too! Since when do the rich and powerful
resort to name calling and whining when anyone says anything about them? And why attack
her now? She’s not the first one to make fun of him, and certainly she isn’t the
only one who thinks he made a bad call with the whole Miss I like Rosie
O’Donald. I don’t always like or agree with what she says, but
that’s the way it is with most of the people I know. Come on... is there anyone in
your life that you agree with all the time? Hell, I don’t expect everyone to agree
with me all the time. It’s pretty obvious
that Rosie doesn’t want to keep this feud going, but Trump thinks it’s going to
do what? I heard a male newscaster on Fox—where else—saying that Trump had been
brutally, verbally attacked by O’Donald. That he was the injured party and had a
right to defend himself. Hey, dumb ass! How about Trump says, “I think I’m right
about the girl, I have not gone personally bankrupt three times, and I think it was
reprehensible that she made fun of my hair and my personal life.” But no. He threatens her
with legal action—and isn’t that just what we expect from some big rich
fuck—calls her a fat loser over and over, and says that thing about her partner which
is just way over the wall. Then he does something just unbelievable; he does the “he
said/she said” thing with Rosie’s boss Barbara Walters as the source. Trump,
anyone with one bit of ethics knows you never do this. Even if every word you said Barbara
said is true and not taken out of context, you don’t do this, you especially
don’t do this if Barbara is your friend. People have a right to vent to a
“friend,” which you say you are to Barbara, without having to worry that their
words will be repeated to the person they are venting about—much less sent to the
media. Our thoughts have a habit of changing from day to day, and what we thought
absolutely one day may change by the next. This sort of “he said/she said” shit
causes all the problems in the world, and I’m thinking Mr. Trump knew this and
that’s exactly why he did it, and in public. Is he three? Mr. Trump, quit being such a prick. Buck up and shut up. You have a right to defend yourself, but not to attack and attack and attack. It makes you look like the bully you claim Rosie is. They say the ratings for your show are down. I hate that show, I hate what it implies are good business “ethics,” and I hope your stupid little tirade causes your bosses at the network to yell out, “Donald, you’re fired!” Three in one!! Dying on the Fringe This administration and the people that praise them have forced gay people back out to the fringe, and being on the fringe is never an easy place to be. It means that you can expect to be treated like an outsider, a weirdo. These days to be gay means that you have huge religious and secular groups spending butt loads of money to try to pass laws to make it legal for people to treat you like a second class citizen, and we've seen many of those laws pass with no trouble in the last six years. Straight people think this is alright because at least it isn't them, or they like the other things this administration has done – which is hard to believe but people can be very delusional and let’s face it the democrats haven't really given us much of a choice - so they're willing to put up with what they've done to gay rights because they really believe we're all being just a bunch of whining sissies crying about our rights. Why, we have the same rights they do, we want special rights, or worse yet they think we want to impose our gayness onto marriage – a holy institution – and... blah, blah, blah, they have no idea what it's like to live as a repressed member of society. Forced onto the fringes. We live in ghettos we create; you think we're free? We're fighting a war supposedly for the freedom of a bunch of religious zealots – who hate us by the way and would like nothing better than to see us all dead – across the planet, but we're taking American citizens and stripping them of their rights or denying them rights in the first place by passing laws to stop us from having rights we don't even have. Gay people don't go anywhere we might not be wanted, and if we do we act straight – or at least try to. You see me at convention and you say – there is nothing repressed about her – but fandom is a very relaxed, very accepting atmosphere. Where we live our day-to-day lives we don't kiss in our front yard without looking around to make sure no one's looking. We only know three of our neighbors and aren't really friendly with any of them. My partner is in the closet at work and in social settings outside a gay club. We don't dare even hold hands in public, and with her or alone I don't dare walk into a straight bar because... well. I look like a big, huge dyke, and some red neck wants to kick my ass before I can finish a second beer. Or almost as bad, he wants me to do his "old lady" while he watches, or a three way. Oddly enough when I went to the strip club with Bill and Audrey to see the midget strippers no one gave me any trouble at all, so... a higher class of people go to strip clubs.
We're Reform Jews, but we even had trouble in At least four or five times a year we'll go to a restaurant and be eating dinner when either someone will crack on us or we'll overhear a conversation in which a bunch of morons are talking loudly – so that we can hear them – gay bashing saying lovely things like they ought to put us in concentration camps. Usually I just stay in my ghetto and I don't feel put upon or particularly persecuted even when we're paying twice as much taxes as a married couple in our income bracket and I have no medical because we can't afford to pay for two full policies. However, two weeks ago I came home to find two messages on my answering machine. Two of my friends had died that weekend, and when I called to find out what had happened to Toni they told me that Odyssey – another friend – had died two weeks before that. All three of these people had lived on the fringe, forced there by society in its infinite wisdom, protecting children and good Christian folk from godless homosexuality. So let's deal with Beth first. Now I'm not going to use Beth's real name because in the 74 years she lived on this earth she was never out one single day, and I'm not about to out her in her death. She and her "room mate" of 35 years were defrocked nuns. In other words they had been nuns and were kicked out. They then taught public school and were still devote Catholics and very active in their church. Beth died of heart trouble complicated by emphysema caused from a life time of stress and chain smoking. She was a great gal, and as a teacher had taught special ed. She and her partner never lived outside their box. They never admitted what they meant to each other. They lived their entire lives in fear of being caught, because let’s face it, they already had been once, and in the age they grew up in it was very brave that they ever acted on their feelings. They would have been great role models for gay kids, but they couldn't come out or they'd lose their jobs. They couldn't come out or they'd be ostracized by their friends and at their church. My partner would be a great role model for gay kids. I mean we've been together for nearly 16 years. But she can't come out because she would lose her job and her insurance and everything else we need to have to exist in this country. Beth never got to live one day where she wasn't afraid of exposure, not one day. That's not freedom. Odyssey died of AIDS complicated by a crank addiction. He had been a very talented performer, a drag queen, who ran several of the shows that I opened for at the club – I do stand up on occasion. Odyssey was like me; even out of drag he was an obvious gay man. He never went anywhere except a gay club where he wasn't harassed, and the only job he could keep was at a local gay bar. In high school he had been harassed and beaten up on a regular basis. He was pushed all the way to the fringe, and you know what else is on the fringe? Drugs. Because when you feel like you just don't belong anywhere, when you hurt, you're just looking for something to make you feel better and once he was cranking, he went down hill fast. Drugged completely out he started engaging in dangerous sexual hook ups until he contracted HIV, and then instead of getting on the HIV drugs and taking care of himself he just buried himself in the crank until the AIDS killed him. He was in his early thirties. That leaves us with Toni. He was a happy, funny guy whom I loved and who loved me. He was also a drag Queen, and we'd worked many shows together. Toni also died of AIDS complicated by a crank addiction. He was also in his early 30s. Toni had attended the same high where Beth and her partner taught for 20 years. He was there when they were still teaching. Toni's high school life was the same as every other obviously gay kid in the bible belt – including me. Even though I didn't come out till I was 30 I got nothing but crap in school for being a homo. Toni was abused, ridiculed, used for oral sex by boys who would later call him a faggot. Typical. Toni developed a drinking problem while still in his teens, and being an over-sexed drunk he hooked up with everyone and anyone and wound up with HIV. He probably could have lived with it, but he farted around and only took the HIV drugs about half the time. He worked three jobs, drank too much, and never slept – a recipe for disaster when you have HIV – and all of that was before he got on crank. When I last saw him I told him he was killing himself, he said he was dying anyway. All good people. All forced to live only half a life. All dead now. That night an ultra-conservative "friend" of mine called, and as always he turned the conversation to politics. He starts bitching about how this democratic congress is trying to tie a ban on assault riffles to some other bill. He's a gun nut, so the only rights he cares at all about are gun rights. He votes one issue politics and doesn't really care what other laws his boys pass as long as they don't touch his guns. Now I'm all for the right to bear arms, but I just don't think people need assault riffles, not when the people who most want them would probably love to kill a bunch of homos. Most days I can listen to his bullshit and try to explain to him what the sane people think, but I just wasn't in the mood for his conservative, all that's important are the rights I care about bullshit, so a blew him off and hung up the phone. I don't need an assault rifle. I don't think anyone does. My friends are dying out here on the fringe, and what we really need are some rights because if we have rights then we'll be part of the whole and we won't be on the fringe any more. Selina First Cut Isn't Always the Deepest So... I damn near cut off a big chunk of my thumb. Had to go to the hospital. Start to finish might have taken them 15 minutes, no special treatment. I was still and didn't cause them any grief, and the charges just keep adding up. It seems like at least once a week I am getting yet another bill and... well by the time they get done it's going to have cost me about a $1000.00 at least. I don't have that kind of money lying around. Hell I don't know many people who do, and I sure as hell can't afford insurance, so... what are the working poor supposed to do for health care in this country? I don't think I should be forced into poverty because I had a small accident. I think $1000.00 for six stitches and an x-ray – that by the way I told them was unnecessary and not only added over a hundred dollars to my bill but was one of the most painful things they did and again... completely unnecessary – and a shot of Lidocaine is fucking ridiculous. To make matters worse I keep paying them and they keep asking for more money. Now they want me to ask for assistance to pay the remainder of the bill because... well apparently they actually want $2000.00. So those lucky enough to have insurance or money get great medical care. They give me half-assed medical care because I have no money and no insurance, and then they charge me more money than anyone with a modest income could ever pay and what... I'm supposed to go on some form of assistance so they can steal even more money. When I hurt myself was I thinking about the pain? the weeks of healing time? all the things I wasn't going to be able to do while I was healing? No! All I could think about was how much it was going to cost me, and how much I couldn't afford it. That fear went away when they told me at the hospital that if I paid that day it would be half and then they charged me $190.00 I felt better about the whole thing, and then a week later there are more bills. So, I’m talking to the person in charge and she tells me send $200.00 more and it will be paid off. So I do and then today there is another bill for $480.00 and another letter asking me to file for assistance so that they can get that "other half" they said would be waved if I paid that day. I'm wondering if it's even legal to tell someone a bill is paid in full and then just keep giving them new bills. Now it's true this one’s from radiology and this one’s from the hospital and that one’s from the doctor, but... it's all bull shit because if I was on welfare it would be free, and if I was on insurance they'd refuse to pay all these extra charges and they'd be dismissed. But because I'm not on assistance and don't have insurance I'm being asked to pay far more than insurance would have, and on top of that they want me to file for assistance. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do because I'm being drowned in a sea of red tape and... how are the terminally unlucky supposed to pay for health care in this country? And here's the real beef. My partner has full coverage. If I had a penis, for an extra $50.00 a month I could be covered. We could afford to pay an extra $50.00 a month. What we can't afford is an extra $300.00 a month. I mean think about it. Even if I wind up having to pay $2000.00, that's seven months worth of payments for insurance, so... how does that work out for me? I don't like living in a supposed free country where I pay taxes for people to have free medical care when I'm expected to pay out the ass. I don't mind paying, I just want to pay what it's actually worth – which is about 300 bucks. Now I know what you're thinking that a thumb is worth more than that, but it wasn't like I was going to lose the whole thumb just a piece of it. The truth is if I hadn't hit an artery or gone through the nail I probably would have put it back together myself. I don't think I should be punished because the system has been built to serve only those fortunate enough to afford insurance. Now they'll all tell you that it's malpractice insurance that causes all this. But I'd like to know just exactly how many people sue for malpractice because the bills threaten to wipe them out financially. In a great ole big supposedly free country I don't think medical benefits should be given only to those fortunate enough to be able to afford them or those who are on the dole. I selfishly think people like me should be able to afford medical care. I'm not saying give it to me for free, I'm saying make it affordable. $2000.00 even $1000.00 for six stitches is an insane amount of money to ask someone who makes under $1000.00 a month to pay. It's criminal. I've already paid what it's worth. I've already paid more than twice what they led me to believe it would cost when I left the hospital. Am I supposed to bleed to death from a cut on my thumb because I can't afford to pay? I guarantee that's the kind of letters I'm getting. Things like, “You need to fulfill your obligation, find an alternative way to pay your bill.” I pay my own way through life, always have, and I don't enjoy being made to feel like a dead beat because those greedy bastards keep wanting me to come up with more money. It was a fucking cut on my thumb, not open heart surgery. I guess if I made what people think writers make I could pay it and not even flinch, but the truth is that $1000.00 is about a quarter of what I made last year, and that's figuring high. Now it's true there are people getting rich in the book business, but I'm not one of those lucky few. Just like I'm not lucky enough to have health insurance or live in a real free country where there is social medicine or my partner could carry me on her insurance because we wouldn't be legally discriminated against. But I'm not bitter!!! Selina Don’t Be Interesting! Have you noticed that anyone who shows any enthusiasm for anything is immediately judged a crazy? We're apparently supposed to go through life with our hands folded in our laps, use our inside voices, and never express an opinion or even make a statement that hasn't been pre-approved by the politically correct police and the council of churches. There is this whole new trend towards thinking that the only way to behave and be good and wholesome is to have any sort of actual personality removed. It's such utter bullshit – always has been – to think that there is only one proper way to conduct your life. What am I thinking about? Howard Dean lets out a rebel yell and anything else he might say or do is discounted because that's not appropriate behavior for someone who might someday be our president. Britney Spears has done a dozen really crazy, you-should-be-worried-about-her things, but what really sets tongues to wagging, what makes everyone decide she needs help? She shaved her fucking head. How do they know that shaving her head wasn't the first sane thing she did? Maybe it was a sort of cleansing ritual like she shaved her head to show she wanted to start over again. They even went so far as to say she had disfigured herself. Hey, dumbasses! It's hair. It will grow back. Personally I don't give a shit what Britney Spears does, but I think it's ridiculous that people went so crazy about her shaving her head. We live in this bubble of sterility where passion has become the enemy and individualism is discouraged from the earliest age in our schools and in our churches. Where something as simple as being interesting can cost you a job, because you might distract people with what you say, how you talk, dress or look. What I love is that you can be as loud and nasty as you want to be if you belong to the right party and walk the party line and look like all the little right winged clones standing in a row. If you've slung off any individuality and are just willing to believe whatever you’re force fed, then you can talk all you want and say whatever you want. In fact, anything you do – legal or illegal – will be covered up because you're "good" people. Case in point... I'm channel surfing the other day and stumble across Bill Oreilly talking to Geraldo Rivera about how Rosie O’Donald has gone completely nuts and is just spouting complete and utter left winged nonsense, and how such a thing shouldn't be allowed. I changed the channel. So... let me explain things to you in case you don't understand. If you are a liberal you must not state anything with passion or say anything that you have not researched fully. But if you're a right winged idiot you can twist the facts and scream as much as you want to, and that's American. As long as you wear the suit and the right hair cut and care about God and country and strong moral values you can be Oreilly and have your sexual harassment of an employee poopooed in the media, and then have the whole thing disappear. If you're Rush Limbaugh you can use prescription drugs illegally and get caught twice and no one will talk about it. They will in fact defend you because of your pain.
What is it going to take to make people wake up and realize that the guy with no
personality in the blend-into-the-crowd-suit with the wife and four kids who seems as
interesting as a turnip, doesn't cuss and is all about conforming is the real
danger because his whole life is a front. Everything
he does out where you can see it is just a front for the truth. He doesn't care about the
planet, or the people, or ethics. All he
really cares about is power and controlling the people and money. That’s his brave new world, people. White
picket fences and SUV's hiding monsters who want to squelch free speech and free
expression, take your rights away, destroy the planet, and crush the spirit of We used to celebrate individuality in this country. We used to say what we believed without fear of being singled out as a wacko. Being interesting used to be a good thing, but now when someone says "It's interesting," that means they don't get it, and when they say "They're interesting," they mean they're crazier than a shit house rat. Selina
A two-fer! Hey... I Had To Pay For That! So, raise your hand if you're a writer and everyone you know expects you to give them free copies of your books. Well... I can't see you of course, but I bet if I could you'd all be wearing the same pissed-off-at-the-world expression I am right now. Hey people... we have to
pay for those books. Not only are you not helping me make a living, but you are actually
taking money out of my pocket because comp copies are only ever comp copies in the sense
that you don't have to pay for them up front. They take the price of the books out of our
royalties. Even if they didn't, unless you're a huge star in this business, working with a
big press, you only get between 10 and 20 comp copies. So when the family and friends
snatch those few copies up, all the other copies we have to buy at our cost so that when
complete strangers at conventions or people you're talking to in a restaurant ask for free
copies they would only be free for them. (By the way, if you’re with a big house, those
copies are intended for you to use as promotion by giving them to reviewers and other
industry-type people. At YDP we expect you to sell them and get your advance money right
then. I any case, if you give them away,
you’re out money!) And here's the thing, all these people who don't want to help support you by buying your books – look at what they do for a living and nine chances out of ten I bet you find that you help support them by buying the products they make, eating in the restaurants they work for, putting gas in your car, etc., etc., etc. How would they react if the next time they asked for a free book we said, "Yeah, sure Fred, and I'll be expecting a free car the next time I go to your dealership." Only in the arts do people expect you to give them actual product for free. Someone said it was the same for doctors because people are always asking them for advice. I say no because you don't walk up to a proctologist, drop your drawers, and expect him to give you a free exam. Asking someone's advice is not the same. You might ask a plumber’s advice about your pipes, or a carpenter’s advice about your building project, or a farmer about your garden, but you'd never think to ask them to give you their services for free unless you were close friends or family – and even then not unless you're a total mooch. If you're a writer lots of people will ask your advice and you'll give it without feeling like you're working, but when they ask for a free book... well, that gets on my last nerve. My family wants free books, so I give them as gifts because... Hey I had to pay for those! And almost everyone is really excited and appreciative because they're mostly really supportive... and then we come to my dad who isn't terribly supportive of anything, and he always has to make some crack about what a cheap asshole I am. I mean... well, I am, but that's not the point now. This all comes back to what we've talked about before, and that is making people understand that creating is actual work. That ideas and talent didn't just fall out of your ass one day; that we had to work at it. Case in point. My partner’s family fully supported her sister working and supporting her husband while he went to grad school, because he got out and got a good job and makes good money. But when I quit my job six years ago to become a fulltime writer... well, I've been seen as a mooch by her family ever since, and in part I understand it. I don't make good money, and in all likelihood unless a leprechaun drops a big pot-o-luck on my head I probably never will, but I do earn my keep, and my partner isn't having to work an extra job, she's working the same job she'd be working if she were single and then she'd have to do all the shit that I do here, and I do earn some money, so why am I considered a leach on her ass? Why do people act as if what you do has no value on one hand and then turn right around and say they wish they could do it? They should do it, and then I could get them back by asking for a free book!
The Constitution So... April was a month to test those first and second amendment rights, wasn't it? Imus... come on, was anyone really shocked because he called female basketball players, "... nappy-headed hos..."? Come on that's fairly mild for him, and that's why I don't watch or listen to him because he just spouts the most horrid right-winged misogynistic bull shit—however, let us all note that even he doesn't approve of Bush. That's where first amendment rights should always be played out—where I have the power to turn something off. Now they're talking about banning the use of certain words, and didn't we all just know that's why they attacked their own, so that they could then come after us? Yeah, that's right. Many of the people who came after Imus relentlessly were pundits from the far right. And who was saying leave him alone and let it play out in the pool of public opinion? Many of the so-called liberals. Come on, we all know why they took out Don Imus; his show was expensive to make. This isn't the first time sponsors have pulled out of the show, and when we're talking network-type money... Well, CBS would much rather put something in that time slot that would make them more money without the hassles. They fired him to make it look like they gave a shit what he said. They didn't. Hell, they HIRED him because he said things like that. No, they fired him because he was going to cost them money, period. But now the right wingers are going to use this to trod all over our first amendment rights and they can point at Imus and say, "He was one of our own. When we didn't like what he said, we cost him his job." So they're going to come after our first amendment right to say whatever the fuck we want and carve a big hunk out of our language – take out the words they don't like. Well, here's a list of words I'm getting sick to death of hearing, words that offend me... pray and prayer, God, Lord, family values, security, just to name a few. Why do I hate these words? I don’t really—there is nothing wrong with these words. But listen up all you dumbasses in the far left and the far right, it's not the WORDS that are the problem. It's how they're used. "Let us all bow our heads in prayer and thank the Lord Jesus," at a high school function? I'm Jewish. Not everyone else there is Christian, and just what the hell happened to the separation of church and state? "It's God's will that”—well you pick the trauma or disaster. How hateful is this? Can you think of any "curse" words that could any more totally destroy a person at a time of tragedy than these? They might as well say, "I don't know if you believe in God or not, but I do, and well... you must have really pissed God off, or he never would have done this to you." What about, "Homosexuality is against God and family values." In fact, while calling it “family values,” the religious right has come after entire groups of people and any belief they find repugnant. "We must be willing to give up some of our freedoms for security." Security. It's a good word. It means to feel safe, to be in a good position, a safe one. But the way politicians are using it... Well, they are using the word to scare us into letting them do any number of horrible things, like stripping us of our rights and fighting wars and spending our children's, children's, children into debt to do it. Words aren't bad, people! You can outlaw all the words you want, but you will never stop people from saying hateful things to other people or about other groups of people. It's not the words themselves that are the problem; it's how people use them. And guess what? If you're going to tell people how to think and what to say, then... well this isn't actually a free country, is it? If you outlaw words that one group of people finds distasteful, then where does it end? Does every group get to put in the words they find repugnant? No, it will just be the rich and the powerful who will tell us what's wrong to say, and don't they already run enough of our lives? We must all fight for our first amendment rights because if they take those away we will have NO other rights. There is a reason that this amendment is the first one—without the ability to speak out we lose our ability to make our thoughts known, and in so doing maybe wake other people up to see what the real problems are or at least see what we think the real problems are. Now let’s talk about second amendment rights and the dumbass who shot all those people at Virginia Tech. All the gun enthusiasts have already dug in and are getting ready to once again fight any sort of gun laws. There won't be any new gun laws because the gun lobby is the strongest one in the country; however, they will all scream as if they've been shot. That said... I believe we need the right to bear arms. We need it because our government is corrupt and filled with liars who will tell us there are weapons of mass destruction where there aren't, that there is no global warming, that we aren't causing it, and they don't want us to say anything to the contrary. We need some sort of legislation that states that people who own guns must take a gun safety course, there needs to be at least a three-day waiting period, and they need to do a background check. Will this stop crazies from getting their hands on guns and killing people? No, but it will help. Our second amendment rights give us the right to bear arms, it doesn't say indiscriminately. It never says there should be no exceptions to that amendment. Does anyone think a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic is a good candidate for gun ownership? Our founding fathers never could have envisioned in a million years that we would have guns capable of killing 32 people with two guns in... well minutes. At the time the constitution was written they had muzzle-loading rifles. Before you could have killed three people with two guns someone would have beaten you to death with a stick. The problem isn't that most people who are strong proponents of second amendment rights don't believe there have to be some rules. The problem is that they believe that once the government starts making rules it won't stop. First amendment rights... Let me say whatever the fuck I want. If people don't want to hear it; let them walk away. If they don't want to listen to it on the radio or watch it on the TV; turn it off. There are more holes knocked in the first amendment right now all over this country than there are holes knocked in second amendment rights, and yet... Well, in the schoolyard we had it right when we'd scream back at a taunter, "Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me." We can afford to have freedom of speech with no impediments. The tide of public opinion will decide what does and does not get aired; ultimately no one will die from harsh words. We need some sort of gun legislation because... Well it's guns. Cars are dangerous. In fact more people are killed because of cars than damn near anything else – and they pollute. You can't drive a car till you're sixteen. You have to take a test. You have to keep a license. There are hundreds of rules about your car and driving, and if you screw up too many times they can take your license away. So why can't we be a little more careful with who we sell guns to? Three days waiting, classes in safe gun ownership for those who have never owned a gun before, and a background check. Then take your gun and go. Now people will tell you that criminals are always going to be able to find guns, but not this dumbass college student. He didn't have those connections. He would have had to get connected first, and maybe in the time it took him to do that someone would have finally realized how crazy he was and would have done something. Those boys that shot their class mates in Jonesboro, Arkansas, tried to get in the one boy’s granddad's gun cabinet but couldn't because it was locked. So they went and got guns from one of the fathers. What if his guns had also been locked up? Hind sight’s 20/20. Mostly people have to stop turning a blind eye. You don't sell a gun to someone who is acting funny. You forget about the money and you just flat turn them away. Will someone else sell them a gun? Maybe, but maybe not. At least you won't be the guy who sold a gun to someone who opened fire on their classmates. People have to stop making messes and expecting other people to fix them. They have to stop walking by messes thinking it's someone elses’s job to pick it up. We ought to be able to say anything we damn well please. This is If I were running the world they wouldn't have fired Don Imus. At least they would have admitted the real reason they were firing him. And they'd find the people who knew how crazy this kid was and just kept turning a blind eye, and the people who decided not to tell the student body or the faculty that a killer was on the campus, and they'd put all these people on trial for criminal negligence. I'm tired of hearing how they all feel bad enough. Fuck that. People are dead. Just feeling bad doesn't really cut it for me. Over three thousand of
our people have died in Selina
Jerry Falwell: The Devil Incarnate I heard he died and I did the dance of joy, and
then I was some disappointed because he hadn’t died engulfed in holy fire and
he’d been allowed to live to be 73. I don’t believe in either the devil or hell.
I DO believe in evil and that there OUGHT to be a hell just for people like Falwell. Maybe you think I’m going a bit overboard in
my hatred? He was an absurd character, after all. He was famous for saying really stupid
things like Tinky Winky was promoting the gay agenda, the civil rights movement should be
called the civil wrongs movement, he made and stood by his statement that God had
lifted his protective blanket from America because of feminists, secular humanism, gays
and abortionists, and that’s why the towers were hit. He said a Jewish man would be
the anti-Christ. He’s a joke, right? No one took him
seriously. WRONG!!! People with BRAINS didn’t take him
seriously, but religious idiots who are easily persuaded simply by putting “It’s
God’ will,” in front of things followed him blindly as he filled the air waves
with his hate masquerading as religion. He started the “Moral Majority,” which
was neither moral nor a majority. You might still be saying, so what? But if you are you
don’t understand the real, lasting, and horrible imprint this fucker’s rather
large footprint left on our country and the world. The moral majority with Jerry Falwell at the helm
took almost complete control of the Republican Party and rallied this idiot president and
his contemptuous band into the White House – not once but twice – and how did
they do that? Through hate. “If you don’t want gays to have rights and liberals
to kill babies, you’d better vote for these candidates.” These people are idiots and their ideas to
“fix things” are idiotic. Let’s
take on the abortion issue. I’m not for abortion, but I sure as hell don’t want
the government making the decision for anyone because the government has no compassion
just rules they follow blindly unless you have pockets full of money. To me it’s
simple. You teach kids from day one how to keep from getting pregnant and then give them
options if they fuck up anyway. The same religious idiot who thinks that you encourage
kids to have sex when you teach them how to prevent pregnancies and the spread of STDs are
the very same people who will make an unwed mother’s life a living hell if she is
part of their church. HYPOCRITES! And think about it for a minute, people, the next
time you’re trying to find a parking spot or waiting in line at the store. See how
many – too many – of us there are now. Now think about the consequences of no
Roe vs. Wade. Realistically where would have all those unwanted people fit into an already
over-taxed social welfare system and an over-populated country being swarmed over with
people from Mexico – who guess what don’t have abortion and don’t believe
in birth control? So all things being connected, Jerry Falwell owns
a big part of the blame for the destruction of our country by this administration. Now I
know many of you don’t think that this administration has destroyed our country
– must be nice to be rich and have the government making everything better for you
while giving you a slave class to use as you wish – it’s all been done by the
“terrorists.” But who really are the terrorists? The Muslims
who wanted a holy war – which we gave them – or the Christian right who believe
the end of the world is at hand and therefore are eager to plunge us into poverty and war
so that their God can come down and save them at the last minute while killing off
everyone who doesn’t agree with them and so... aren’t these basically two sides
of the same coin? Jerry Falwell and his good buddy Pat Robertson
are as much to blame for the attack on the environment, the elevation of the rich, and the
waging of this war as this administration is because without them and the hatred and
fear they stirred up and played to in their flocks, this administration could have
never risen to power. Jerry Falwell is directly responsible for
what has happened to our lives, our country, and the world at large. We’ll hear
eulogy after eulogy, after tired man of God eulogy about him in the days to come – or
at least we will if we turn on one of the news channels and watch – but I doubt
anyone will touch on the destruction this fucker left in his wake, how he started a
revolution that blurred the lines between church and state, and caused the deaths of
countless of thousands and diminished the lives of many others by rallying people’s
hate against them all while preaching about the rights of the unborn. Most of us will never impact the world the way
this man did. Thank God! Horrible things, ungodly sins against mankind this man committed
every day that he breathed on this Earth; if only his mother had aborted him... think
about what the world might be today. Much better I think. Just admit you did it Remember when you were a kid and your parents or
some teacher would say to you, “Things will be much easier for you if you just admit
you did it.” It was bullshit, of course. If you admitted to doing it you always still
got in trouble. But the reason for this exercise was to teach us to take responsibility
for our actions; that when we overstepped our privileges we lost them. Before I go off on this little tirade I should
probably explain that almost everyone in my family who has died young died from lung
cancer – all were smokers. My grandmother died of lung cancer. The doctor took a look
at her scan and said she’d no doubt been a heavy smoker all her life. My grandmother
had never smoked, but her father, all her brothers, her sons, and her husbands all did.
Last year I cared for a friend as she died of cancer the doctor said was from smoking...
she also had never been a smoker. I don’t want to hear from any of you second-hand
smoke unbelievers. Stop watching FOX News, bury a few people you loved who died from it,
and then come talk to me. Anyway, for all the obvious reasons I’m very anti smoking. I’m getting a little sick and tired of
hearing smokers go on and on about how they’re being abused and treated like
second-class citizens, First off they should try being a minority it’s legal to
discriminate against and then come back and talk to me about that whole second-class
citizen thing. You know why smokers are getting such
“bad” treatment now? Because for countless years everyone else has been asked to
suffer for their pleasure. Now there are some very courteous smokers, but across the board
they aren’t the ones who are bitching about not smoking in places because they never
did in the first place. Most smokers are NOT courteous. Now I’m sure this will cause
much bitching and many nasty e-mails, but you can only bitch to me and have me listen to
you if you can show me a public restroom more than six months old that doesn’t have
cigarette burns all over it and/or butts in the floor. How about a park or any other
outside public place that doesn’t have cigarette butts all over the ground? How many forests do they get to burn down, how
many medians, how many homes, how many hotels, before they start to learn to be courteous
and careful? Hey guys, that stuff you’re sucking into your lungs has fire on the end;
fire burns stuff. You smoke in bed even though you know it’s started thousands of
fires because you’re an exception to the rule. You smoke while you’re driving
even though going for a dropped cigarette is a leading cause of car wrecks. You throw your
butts on the ground at national parks and everywhere else because YOU don’t see them
as trash and damn all the tight asses who do. You sling your cigarette out the car window
because what are the odds that yours will be the one to start a fire? You set your burning
cigarette on the toilet paper dispenser, or the sink in the public toilet, and burn
the first hole or the sixth and never once consider that it’s vandalism. You have an
ash tray in your fucking car, but you sling it out the window? You light up in a
non-smoking friend’s house and smell up and stain their walls and their curtains and
fill their lungs with carcinogens then have the absolute nerve to be mad when they ask you
not to smoke in their house. Smokers need to quit bitching and admit that it
was their total disregard for other people’s rights and comfort that has lead to all
the laws being passed about where they can smoke. They should admit that smoking
isn’t a necessity and is therefore a privilege, and though they have the right to
smoke they DON’T have the right to diminish other people’s lives physically or
esthetically while doing so. I understand that people are addicted, but you know what?
People are addicted to other drugs, too. We don’t let people shoot up in
Denny’s. What’s the worst thing that can happen from all this
“persecution”? People will quit smoking? Mostly they should admit that it isn’t that
big a deal to have to go outside to smoke. What? Is the fresh air gonna kill ya? Selina
Who Shit in Her Cereal? Recently we were at a convention at an undisclosed location. The convention was great and is run by competent and engaging people, so I’m not withholding the location because of the convention. No, I’m not saying where because I want to just go on and on about what an ass their writer guest of honor was. See, I hate kill joys and buzz kills. The only thing worse is someone who’ll kick you when you’re down. This woman was a kill joy; moreover, she couldn’t stand it that the general population – who had no idea who she was and could have given a shit less that she was there – weren’t killing themselves to worship at the idol of her greatness. The only things great about her were the size of her “great” huge ass, and her screwed up attitude. Before you try to guess who it is, ask me personally at selinarosen@cox.net, and I’ll gladly tell you. Chances are you won’t have heard of her, either. About ten of us went into the restaurant – with the worst service in the world – for dinner. She was there with the same two fans that had been following her around all weekend and a member of the ConCom. Our table was about fifteen feet from hers, and I realize that we’re loud and more than a little rowdy, but we were just trying to have fun while we waited till we needed to color our gray roots again before they finally brought us dinner. Now I get up at one point to get water for someone who needed to take a pill because remember – worst service ever – this bitch meets me about half way back to my table to ask me, “Can you keep it down? We can’t hear ourselves talk at our table.” Now that may not sound so bad, and maybe you think the restaurant is no place to be having fun anyway, but what you can’t see is the “I just stepped in shit to even lower myself to talk to you,” look on her face and the officious stance she took. Bitch had no idea who I was, and if I didn’t really like this convention – and if I didn’t know that doing such a thing would have been career suicide – I would have beaten the living shit out of the bitch. See, I never talk down to anyone because the way I see it no one is above or beneath anyone else. If you’re in the same business as I am, you don’t have as many credits in the field as I do, and you haven’t been in it as long, you’ve got a hell of a nerve to assume that you’re somehow better than me because you’re guest of honor. I’ve got news for her – I was the guest of honor the very first year that convention came to life, and no one, not one person who saw or heard about the incident thought she was clearly right to call me and mine down. Hell the member of the ConCom who was eating with her waited until she left and then came to our table and apologized. From what I heard this woman didn’t just take a shot at me, she was apparently an officious bitch all weekend. I don’t think she understands fandom at all. People are there to have fun, kick back and for once not have to worry that someone’s going to take them to task because they don’t quite act like everyone else. That’s what we all are – misfits – we know that, we’re proud of that, and we think mundanes are boring in the extreme. I was polite; I didn’t tell her to kiss my ass. But now I think about it I should have at least told her, “No, I will not tell my friends that we need to keep it down. You just need to talk louder so that you can hear each other speak.” Because you know why people act like that? Because we let them get away with it. See, she just thought she got away with it, because as soon as I got home I told everyone in my fan group and everyone in the YDP group what a flaming bitch she was, and... Well, if you ask me off group I’ll tell you, too. Something I Hate!!! Just now I got a message from a friend I haven't heard from for awhile. I wrote a rather long e-mail message back and then... well I get one of those, "This person is blocking spam and only wants letters from people on their list. To join their list waste about ten minutes of your time jumping through this electronic hoop and that one." This one even had you look at this messed up picture and write the letters in it, this last thing no doubt a way to keep the mentally impaired from e-mailing. I hate this fucking shit!!! I don't care about being on anyone's damn list unless I'm going to make money. I'm just trying to mail a letter. If it takes me much longer it would be easier to just stick it in an envelope and stick it in the mail box when I'm mailing the bills anyway. It annoys the holy hell out of me. Someone has written me and now I have to jump through hoops to answer them. I'll bet money they don't get one damn bit more spam than I do. You know what I do with the spam that gets through my filter? I delete it! When it's a friend or family member I suck it up and jump through the little electronic hoops even though I'm quite sure that at this point in time I have wasted more of my time filling out all this bullshit so that other people will accept e-mail from me than I have wasted deleting spam. After all anything that says "Enlarge your penis" I can just delete without even thinking about it. Truth is when I get someone's little test to be their friend I'm pretty damn offended that they would make me do this when they were able to e-mail me with no problem at all. If you are a writer or other business-type person who has written to ask me something and I got one of these little pop quizzes... well guess what? I didn't blow you off. I answered you. YOU blew ME off and because I don't know you, I'd already spent time answering you, and now you expect me to go through your little program just to send you my answer... Eat shit and die! I realize that those of you steeped completely in the computer age probably don't feel this way, maybe you're saying... “But I have kids. That's why I do that.” I don't care! I hate being treated like I have leprosy when I am polite enough to answer you, especially if I don't even know you and you were writing me to ask a question about doing business with me. What the hell!? There are three things I don't have a lot of, money, patience and time. I have more money and patience than I have time, so when people waste my time to save themselves having to delete a little spam they try my very limited patience and I wind up in therapy which costs me money I don't have. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe people get much more spam than I do... Get a better spam filter! Guess what? I know lots of very busy – some might even say important people – in this business, publishers, actors, writers and artists who make a living with their craft. I can't think of one of them who I've e-mailed and ever got the “go directly to jail, do not pass go, don't collect your 200 dollars bullshit if you want to be my e-mail buddy form” from. I hate to sound like the old woman I am, but I find the whole process demeaning, and therefore I think it's rude. I don't care if it's the machine saying "So and so is trying to cut down on spam so in case you are the scum-sucking crud of the earth we need to test you first." They programmed the computer to do that. They decided for whatever reason that it was a good idea to do it. They obviously have my e-mail address. Isn't there a way for them to add me to their list before they send me mail? They're the ones who want to keep spam out at all costs, so shouldn't they be the ones to jump through the little hoops? If you want me to look at your book, write you a cover blurb, or any of a dozen other things I'm asked to do regularly, then shouldn't you take the time and effort as a professional to make that as easy a process for me as possible? You obviously wanted to talk to me, so be professional and don't have me get a letter that basically says you may not want to talk to me so fill out all these things so that you can be sure you do want to talk to me. Let's face it, you're my friend or my family I may grit my teeth a little but I'll still fill out the stupid form because you put up with shit from your friends and family you don't put up with from strangers. So... if you queried me on anything and you have one of these things on your e-mail account, know that I didn't blow you off. I did answer you, but when I tried to send my reply, your stupid little test popped up, and since you didn't think I was important enough to be added to your list I didn't think you were important enough for me to jump through all your little hoops. I reserve doing such humiliating things for my friends and family. Selina So... Did I Have A Day Yesterday!? I had to go up to my dad's to get my hair done. My dad is a beautician. He used to be a fairly famous one on the West Coast – went to the same school as Vidal Sassoon. He used to do June Lockhart's hair as well as other stars; of course he's in his 70s now, can hardly walk, and shakes all the time. So why do I make him do my hair? I don't make him do it, he wants to. If I let anyone else so much as touch it he has a complete and total melt down, he's mad, and his feelings are hurt and... Well, I'm the last one of his kids stupid enough to let him do their hair because I'm the only one who has guilt issues. He mumbles the whole time he's mixing the bleach that my sisters have used up all his supplies. Twice he has to stop in the middle of mixing because he gets tired that easily. He finally mixes up this shit that looks like nothing he has ever put on my head before and I start to get nervous. I have grown up in his chair and gave up a long time ago thinking that my hair will ever be the way *I* want it. I really don't give a shit because worse comes to worse I'll just wear a hat. I like hats, my sisters don't, which is probably why they don't let him do their hair anymore. Anyway he puts this crap on my hair. It runs like crazy and I spend the next two hours catching it with a rag as it runs down my face as my father just starts spouting the most obnoxious, right wing bullshit. It was like listening to Fox News on Acid. He does—that starts talking shit when you can't get away from him—because normally I'd just have some place I had to go when he started his shit. As it is I just nod and uh-huh a lot as my brain starts to bleed and this crap runs down my face. I am there all fucking day as he spews utter shit and runs down my whole family and dredges up shit from my past and retells it in his image, and when he gets done I need a drink and am fucking honey blond. Honey blond! I don't know whether to blame him or my sisters—who really do use up all his supplies and never replace them. At least my hair cut’s all right. When I finally get out of there it's 4:00 and I still have to go to Wal-Mart because of course my wife has left me a list—‘cause that's what she does—and I of course have to go to Wal-Mart to get the things on my list because they have put every single other place you might have gone to get those things out of business—‘cause that's what Wal-Mart does. I hate Wal-Mart. It's a huge corporation that seems to delight in urban sprawl. They put everyone but the high-end places out of business and I can't afford to go to the high end places. If I ever get flush I will shop at those places—not because I give a shit about "quality," I know everything comes from the same factory in Taiwan—I just hate to be forced to support something I think is like a fucking cancer on the ass of America, and if I had more money I wouldn't have to. Anyway... I do my shopping and I'm leaving and this old fuck—some people like to call them “greeters,” I like to call them old fucks—stops me and asks to see my receipt. The conversation goes like this... "Why?" Me with my honey blond hair already not having such a good day as I show him my receipt. "From now on you need to walk out the door holding your receipt up so that we can see it." "Then I won't be shopping here." What he doesn't know is that I'm like three seconds from pushing his nose through the back of his head. "That would be fine," he says in that bible-thumper tone that says "my" sort of people shouldn't be allowed around normal folk anyway. I leave before I feed this old fuck the cart, and then I turn and I see he isn’t stopping everyone. I have been fucking profiled! He took one look at me and decided I was a thug. So I put my crap in the car and stomped right back in and over to the service desk, but it was Wal-Mart so of course there was no one there but one woman who ignored me. So I took down the number of the manager. So let's get this straight. They'll pull me out of the line and search me at the airport while ignoring the two Arab guys standing behind me because... "That would be profiling." People of Middle Eastern descent—like how I was all politically correct?—have committed acts of terrorism all over the world, but you can't check them. But the fucking door greeter at Wal-Mart can profile me and decide I'm criminal, and while I don't often play the gay card let's face it this guy stopped me from out of the sea of people walking out of Wal-Mart and was hateful to me because I'm a great big obvious dyke and he's a bible-thumping moron. We can't profile people who might blow up a plane full of people, but we can profile to stop-shop lifting. I am not criminal; I'm so honest I shouldn't be in business. Hell, I'm even a crappy liar. And while it kills me to say it that is our closest Wal-Mart and since we not only shop there for our personal needs we also shop there for the business, we spend at least a 1,000 dollars a month in that store. As much as I'd like to really never go in there again, let's face it unless I start shitting money tomorrow I can't really do that. What I can do is call the corporate offices and bitch about it. What I can do is tell you and everyone else why this new "system" of their's is asinine and won't work to stop shoplifting, that all it will do is make Wal-Mart an even more uncomfortable place to spend money. What I can do is tell you all how to steal from Wal-Mart using their new shake down system. Now only some of their branches are doing it, so you may have to travel to steal from them in this way. All right here we go... Now apparently they think people come through the check out line, bag their shit with no one seeing, and then make their way out the exit. First... go to Wal-Mart and legitimately buy an entire list of stuff. Take your receipt and go back in the store. Get all the same shit, stand at the check out line, bag it, and then walk right out. Show them the fucking receipt—hell, let them check it against the contents of your basket. What do you mean that won't work!!! Of course it will. I mean you MUST be able to bag stuff and walk out or what would be the excuse for this little exercise? Oh, it's asinine and couldn't possibly stop shoplifting and is mostly just to make their paying customers feel like criminals! I'm sick to death of being treated like a terrorist and a criminal everywhere I spend money. I don't like my hair this color, I want to go get a streak kit so I can fix it, but I don't want to give fucking Wal-Mart any of my money so it may just have to stay like this. At least Dad will be happy. Shalom, Selina
Talking Books I just smiled and nodded and left him be to search for books for himself, but the whole time I’m just wanting to tell this fucker just how much I wish he was right and the books could just talk for themselves and sell themselves so I could sit on my fat, flabby ass like every other dealer in the room and just wait for the people to line up to buy my books. The truth is I have tried
it both ways, and Let me explain this for all of the people who don’t like my selling techniques and who I annoy with my call to “Buy my books.” I don’t have a day job. I write books and publish books and run a farm, so there is no time for a day job that would pay me a steady income and give me health insurance. My main publisher went under the first of this year and even when they were in full swing they never did a very good job selling the books, which is of course why they went under. I don’t want to go under. There are a lot of people counting on me, so I’ll do whatever I have to do to sell the books. Still don’t get it? Imagine you’re working in say a soap factory and the factory goes under owing you six months in pay and they say, “Here’s what we owe you in soap.” So now the only way you can get your money is to sell the soap. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Let’s say you get another job in another soap factory and they immediately tell you that you will not be paid for six months or until you have made X amount of soap. So you make X amount of soap and they give you a check. You finally have some money, but now they tell you that you will not be getting paid any more until you can prove that they can sell the soap that you’ve made. They suggest you start doing conventions where soap lovers come to talk about and purchase soap. So you work all week making the soap and then on the weekend you take your money and your time and drive all over the country to try to promote and sell your soap so that you can finally get paid for the work you already did. Now can you imagine what that would be like? The stress of never knowing whether you were going to have any money to pay the bills or not, having no health care, nothing remotely resembling a net. Welcome to my world. And some of you are now saying, “Well I’d just get out of the soap business.” Even more of you are saying, “I don’t care what you’re saying I wouldn’t act like you just to sell soap.” Ah, but you see books aren’t soap; books are a little piece of the writer’s soul. These books that people casually pick up off the table, flip over, read a second, and then throw down and move to the next table to look at jewelry—that book they just discarded was that writer’s creation. They wrote it down so that other people might enjoy it. That book you just casually set your drink on while you looked at something else, or didn’t even look at, or picked up looked at and then miss stacked on another book, or bent the cover on, that book was some writer’s dream. That book was going to launch their career or get it going again. It was going to help them quit a hated day job or pay some bills. It was going to get them some much-needed respect. If no one buys the book, that writer’s dream is destroyed. That’s why I push and push and push, because our books, my books, are good. They’re not just books to me they are our writers’ dreams, they’re my dreams. I work all day from early in the morning to late at night. Then as many as sixteen times a year I travel with stock to some far-off place and I try to sell that stock. You bet your sweet ass that I do everything in my power to sell that product, because so far I haven’t made a dime on it and I’ve got stacks of books sitting all over my house that I had to pay for—or that I got as payment. The only way I can finally make some money on them is if I can sell enough of them to pay my travel expenses, food, table fees, hotel expenses, and cost of product and have anything at all left over. Everyone else in that dealer’s room has some other substantial form of income. I don’t. The books are it. I’m not one of the big authors so I have to sell my books from other publishers as well because otherwise I’m not going to make any money there either. You can’t count on the houses to promote you anymore—not any house—that’s just not the way the business works anymore, and certainly the smaller presses expect you to do all the work. So, if my dancing like a monkey and yelling like a carnival barker annoys you, then just go and buy the books. I’d rather not work so hard. Believe me I’d rather the books sold themselves, but until such time as it becomes cheaper and easier to read than it is to watch TV, books are going to be a hard sale. Until I give up and get a real job that pays actual money and gives me health benefits I’m going to be standing in front or behind that table trying to sell you my books. If you don’t like it steer clear of my table and stay out of my way. Selina It’s A Three-Fer! Toad Day Your real friends tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen because this person was special and every time they smiled at you, you felt special and it didn't matter that most days they used and abused you and... Made you feel like a toad. People are that way about TV and movie stars. I was recently at TrekExpo, which rocked – thanks John and Audree. I really expected to be treated like a toad because I was writer guest of honor and as a general rule a writer at a media con – as I've said before – gets treated like a leper. But these fans loved me and were nice to me and even showed up for my talks, though not in the numbers that they showed up to listen to the stars talk, and lets face it I put on a hell of a show, just as most of the actors do. But some of them – that will still fill the room – are hateful to the fans or they get on stage and they have nothing at all to say. There was one actress there I really felt sorry for. She was a sweet gal but when she got on stage she had nothing to say, and it was a Q and A. Often the room just freezes because they're intimidated by the star (which I don't get because to me they’re just people with interesting jobs) or they just can't think of any questions they want to ask, so they all sit there waiting for someone else to ask a question so they can sit in awe and listen to this star talk and... Nothing. The chick had nothing. She couldn't ad-lib. You know what will kill you faster than anything else when you're on stage? Dead air. You can't have dead air. You're better off spouting absolute trivial bullshit or telling a lame joke than you are doing nothing in front of a room full of people. There was one gal at the TrekExpo whose name I won't mention – because who knows maybe she was constipated all weekend and just having a bad time – but she was just a pain in the ass and hateful to the fans all weekend long. That's right. People were walking up to her all weekend long because they thought she was special and they thought talking to her might make them feel special and instead she seemed to delight in making people feel like toads. I enjoy meeting the actors, but I don't often get to because if it even seems to me that they are putting a barrier between them and "us" I'm just not interested in them. Let's get real for a minute. I just don't watch much TV, and even when I do I get up and run back and forth to the office to work and miss half the show. About the only thing I'll get totally involved with is something on the discovery or history channel. I love movies, but currently have 20 here I haven't watched because I don't have time. I won't approach the media guests at their tables at all if they’re busy because I don't want to get in the way of the fans who want to buy something because I most likely am not going to buy anything. See I'm there to work, too, and if they aren't buying my books why should I buy their pictures? I love it when one of them wants to trade books for pictures; that's way cool. If I'm visiting with a friend who is an actor or actress I get behind the table because often people won't approach if someone's in front of the table. I leave if they get busy because they're trying to make money just like I am. To me all people start out on equal footing.
You’re cool, I like you. You're an ass, I don't. I
don't care who the hell you are. I learned my lesson in grade school and no longer
let supposed social status or crushes dictate who I do or don't like. This woman who
in my opinion showed her ass at TrekEspo was actually pleasant to me and she sat by But I'm not going to name her because... well, fans sometimes make the stars and the writers feel like toads, too, and not everyone – even an actor – can keep up the act all the time. We are there to promote ourselves and our work and give the fans a chance to talk to us. This makes us a huge open target. Most fans rock. Some of my favorite people are fans. Hell, some of my best friends started out as fans. But some of them are hateful and lots of them are just clueless. They want to know what you've done that they might have read if you're a writer. If you're an actor... Well, I have seen them walk right up to an actor or actress’s table and ask "What might I have seen you in?" Come on?! I have seen both Claudia Christian and Virginia Hey run through damn near every one of their credits while people stood there and said no. They were gracious the whole time – now that's great acting! They do the same thing to writers; it's always, "Are you anyone? Would I have read any of your work?" How the fuck are we supposed to know what you have or haven't read or watched? And... Am I anyone? What the fuck does that even mean? I told one guy, smiling the whole time, "No I'm a figment of your imagination. Seek help." And always smiling, doesn't matter how you feel what family or career crises you've been through how you feel physically you have to keep smiling. Some people just flat run out of nice after awhile. It's not professional to do so, but it is human. If you don't know what an actor or actress has done what are you doing even approaching her? I admit it, you can't look at a writer and know what they've done, and I know people don't remember author's names because I don't, but an actor? Come on! You are wasting time at their table that they might be spending with a real fan who might actually buy something. And a few fans – like all people – are just plain creepy and they say and do inappropriate things. After how ever many conventions I have done this year, I'm tired and tired of the inane sometimes even prying questions. I'm tired of being on from dawn till dusk. I'm tired of strangers coming up and making me feel like a toad. Just because you don't know me or my work doesn't automatically negate everything I am and everything I have ever done. I don't know the work of every writer, actor, actress or artist I do conventions with, but I don't find it necessary to tell them that. Maybe this woman I thought was so hateful is normally a nice person and she was just tired of it all and giving back some of what she got. Maybe she's just a bitch. Either way as in all things know your limitations. If you're on stage and you can't think of anything to say, leave before they come after you with a hook. Selina #2 It's Happening! So... have all of you read my book Any way the premise of the book is that the future becomes a push button, virtual society in which most people have forgotten how to connect to one another. There are in fact people who live and die without ever leaving the building in which they were "born." So this rebellious cult forms which... Well, basically lives the way that we do now. When you write speculative fiction you look at everything that's current and everything that's on the table politically, economically, and scientifically, and you follow that thing – whatever it is – to its natural conclusion and then you tweak it. Most of the time you hope the future you've invented won't come true. But often it does. This does not make science fiction writers modern-day prophets. What it does mean is that we tend to look and listen and read everything and then use that knowledge to concoct a future that is plausible, which is why so many science fiction writers seem to have foretold the future. The simple truth is that if it couldn't happen in a billion years it will be hard to find people who will want to read the book. What did I see that prompted this rant? Robotic animals for kids. The ad says, "Better than a real pet..." Now think about that for a minute. What is one of the main reasons for getting your kid a pet? So that they can bond with something and learn to care for it, know that it is a living thing that needs food and water and love. Even a fish can teach a lesson in responsibility and caring for things. Even fish do things at random. Is the idea now to just raise people who have no connection to living things human or otherwise? It's already happening; this new generation doesn’t really bond to their children, why? Because their parents only half-ass bonded to them. They let the TV and video games baby-sit them. They were in daycare as soon as they were old enough and the caregivers there saw the kid more than the parents did. As soon as they were old enough they stuck them into preschool. They made sure they signed them up for every after school function they could find. The only constant thing in their lives which seemed to give unconditionally was the TV and video games... Well you can be completely powerless in the real world, but in the virtual one you are in total control. Sort of like a writer at their keyboard before the editor rips their work to shreds and tells them to rewrite it in their image or they won't get published... but I digress. I contend that compassion is becoming a thing of the past because people have removed themselves from human relationships. It is happening more and more. The communication age has made it unnecessary to make human contact. Hell, I can talk to people all over the world and never leave my house. The truth is I have better relationships with my friends who live out of town that I only see a few times a year and communicate with on the phone and on line than I do with my friends who live locally that I never call or e-mail because... Well they're right here. The truth is living where we do and being who we are it's a wonder we have any friends at all locally. I can go several days and see no one but Lynn and I don't like that. I'm a people person and I need to interact with actual flesh and blood humans, but do you know how hard it is to do that here? It takes time to make new friends in our mundane lives. It's not like it is at convention where you more or less know that everyone there has at least one thing in common and you can all just start talking without even being introduced because your name is on your badge. I work at home so meeting people in my
normal everyday life is damn near impossible, especially since I spend so damn much time
out of town on business these days. I'd go out just to be around people more but All these things considered it would be very easy for me to lock myself up in the virtual world, but I wasn't raised that way so I sometimes drag her out even though she doesn't want to go and I try to get to town at least twice a week just to see peop |