Christmas is April 17th ~ A short history of Christmas Folklore

Every year, usually right before Thanksgiving, some angry Santa-hater starts posting spam photos on Facebook, 10-15 minute long videos on YouTube ~ complete with outdated and incorrect information ~ and of course, when an innocent passer-by dares to say "Happy Holidays" this person will belittle them in the most loud and boisterous way possible.

When it's brought to their attention that they're acting like a regular scrooge, they hide behind one excuse:

"I'm trying to put CHRIST back in CHRIST-mas!!"

I always find amusement in the bah-humbuggery, because not a single one of these people seem to know how un-Jesus like they're acting.

For those who don't believe, Jesus was said to have been easy going, un-hating and if you read Matthew 21:12, was actually against the church.

I also take amusement in finding out how many hate the term "Happy Holidays".

Oh have you heard the whining before?

"Most REAL 'Mericans Celebrate CHRISTMAS. You should too or GET OUT OF MAH CUNTRY"

First of all, it's MY country. I'm part Native American. If you're going to spread hate, I'd rather you move.

Second, Jesus would never wan you to turn people out of any country, based on belief. He was a person who believed in the phrase "Love thy Neighbor" not "Get offa mah property".

Third, Jesus was a Jew who was known as "Jesus of Nazareth" which is located in Israel, a country in Asia. It's more likely he would celebrate Hanukkah, and likely wouldn't turn his nose up at Kwanzaa, as that holiday is said to celebrate Unity. Last time I looked at a map, Israel and Asia were both as far from America as you can possibly get.

Fourth, it's "America". Not "Merica". Learn to say my country's name right.

And yet most of my issues with this form of Yuletide Christmas Bullying fall onto deaf ears. Look, I may not be a very religious person, but even I read the 10 commandments, specifically the part with "Thou shalt not make unto thee a graven image, nor any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above". That specifically outlines pictures and statues of God, Jesus, Mary and the rest of His family. So you may want to think twice next time you try to spam Facebook with images of Jesus, it's kind of a sin.

December 25th has never truthfully been a day for religion at all. It origins are much more earthly and dare I say Pagan than what the average church follower believes, and actually putting the name of Jesus onto the full version of the holiday, might be a form of disrespect, rather than celebration.

Back in 2002, The History Channel ran a fascinating documentary called The Research of Holy Night, it was a great show and I'm sorry it isn't aired more often. If you can find a DVD I suggest giving it a try.

In the documentary, scientists, historians and astronomers all compared the writings of the Bible to world history and the alignment of the stars. Dr. Michael R. Molnar was able to locate the fabled Star of Bethlehem, and found that the exact date of Jesus's birth is really April 17th, 6 B.C. It's a no brainer when you read the New Testament. Sheep herders would not have been outside in December, but they would have been sleeping under the stars with the sheep around April. Also, there are clues in the book, alluding to the notion that the date of his birth is also close to what we now call Easter. A decent write up on this is located here.

Now what we call Christianity didn't actually start up until after The Resurrection, with it starting as an off-shoot branch of Judaism. (Remember, Jesus was a Jew, not a Christian.) The term "Christians" used to be a slang term for essentially the fans of Jesus. Most Romans used this more as a slur than a description.

Well not long after Christianity started looking less like a slang term and more like a cult/religion, Romans started offing them left and right. It was made clear that they would be targeted, even during holidays. So what could be done?

Simple, hide the holidays.

Easter and Good Friday (Why is it good? Jesus was MURDERED that day, that's not good at all!) were easy. They were hidden during Spring Solstice, which is a celebration of birth and rebirth. The flowers that had died off during Autumn and Winter seem to "spring back" to life, new plants sprout, and it's also a favorable mating season for many animals. Images of baby bunnies and chicks are often a good sign of fertility and renewal, so it was easy to hide the festivities of Jesus's rebirth here.

BUT they opted not to add in his birthday, otherwise the Romans could have figured out what they were doing. So, they decided to celebrate the birth of Jesus by pushing his birthday to December 25th.

December 25th is the biggest, baddest, mamma-jamma party day of the year, smack in the middle of Winter Solstice. It was a time celebrated with heavy drinking, gifts and general goofing off. Picture the world's biggest frat party. The Christians decided that there was no better way to celebrate Jesus than with the biggest feast of them all. So this was a natural choice.

It was supposed to be TEMPORARY.

But by the time that it was no longer a punishable-by-death offence to be a Christian in Rome, the descendants of these early Christians had forgotten when the actual date of Jesus's birth was. Re-checking their older scriptures did not prompt them to even try and push the date back to even the right month, instead opting to leave it where it was. Because you know... it's tradition.

Yes, tradition. To celebrate the birthday of the person they love most on the WRONG day, during the WRONG month, during the WRONG season. And in the middle of Winter Solstice, the most biggest, Pagan holiday of the year. Christians decided this. Ah... what?

Winter Solstice itself has had a changing in it's meaning. At first it was just a celebration of the onset of Winter and the upcoming change in the calendar. Some would add in an extra feast in honor of a God or spirit, but these traditions vary by area, and for the most part, it was a holiday devoid of modern day religion.

 Now in 270 a.d. was born a wonderful man named Nikolaos. During his 73 years of life, he did many good deeds just because he felt like it, and after death was made into a saint. A few hundred years later, people began seeing images of him once more doing good deeds, and eventually the legend of him leaving treats for good children on December 5th-into-6th spread. It is now a holiday. In some areas of the world however, people do not believe this is the same man, and instead refer to the December 6th trinket-leaver as Sinterklaas.

Saint Nicholas/Sinterklaas is NOT Santa Claus!!

Another holiday goof is the notion that Saint Nicholas and Santa are one and the same. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Saint Nicholas was over 6 feet tall and quite skinny. Santa is a short elf.

In 1773, people began claiming they had seen a rotund gift giver, also answering to the name Sinterklaas. But by 1803 this name was re-printed in newspapers as Santa Claus.

Santa was originally described as an elf, just a few inches tall, riding a turkey. Over the years, it changed to a 4-6 foot tall, chubby elf, traveling with reindeer. It wasn't until 1821 however, that the elf began leaving presents for children. But the reason for this isn't as merry as you've been told.

Winter Solstice by this point was a quiet, somber (and sometimes outlawed) time, to give thanks for still having children. Kids in the pre-20th Century world didn't always live past 10. A family could start the year with 6-7 kids, and then end the year with just 1-2. Disease, abuse, child labor, these were all things that often times shortened the lifespan of children ~ especially in the United States. So by Christmastime, parents were often finding joy in still being "Mom and Dad".

What better way is there to celebrate a child than by giving him toys?

While some Christians toiled over the notion that Santa Claus was now a part of the holiday they made up, other Christians welcomed him, claiming that the gift giving was synonymous with the Three Wise Men giving gifts to Mary for baby Jesus.

Again, a misnomer. While the Wise Men did give gifts, they were NOT to celebrate baby Jesus's birth. They were given in preparation for Jesus's early death, a future the Wise Men had a premonition about, long before finding the boy.

Gold: This was given to help pay for a final resting place.

Frankincense and Myrrh: Embalming preservatives that are known to dry out the body after death.

These were not gifts of merriment. The reminder of this part of the Bible was not a welcome one back then for most parents.

Another gift that is spoken of (but also not really a gift) is the fruit cake. While today it is baked and given during Christmastime, it's really just a convenient way to make the fruit last through the winter. Picture a lightly sweet cake-casserole, but with the consistency of a cold brick. Again, there is no basis in religion for it, it's just a really thick mass.

Eggnog also has no religious background, but a non-alcoholic version goes great over ice cream!

The Yule Log was originally just a large piece of tree, that was burned in thanks to the universe for all that was received during the year. It started as a Winter Solstice tradition, and morphed into another ritual for Christmas.

Mistletoe (a known poison and parasitic plant) also has no modern-day religious ties. It's just a plant people kiss under.

Then there's the Christmas Tree:

At first, the holiday tree, garlands and wreaths, were all symbols of eternal life. In some areas of the world, it was used as a device to scare off demonic spirits. Then in the 14th and 15th centuries, the tree was decorated with apples and wafers on December 24th. This was to commemorate the tale of Adam, Eve and the Tree of Life. The apples represented the forbidden fruit, and the wafers represented redemption. 

Off and on from 1444 until 1841, the tree was banned, brought back, banned and brought back again, all over the world. In 1841, Queen Victoria made the tree popular again, this time for good, but all of it's ties to Adam and Eve had been completely dropped, and it was known as the perfect centerpiece for Christmas presents, it's ties to Christianity's Christmas being more of a coincidence than an on-purpose item. Still, it provided the best spot for placing gifts. Only in Germany was it consistently a "Christmas" tree.

Traditionally, holidays based on events in the Bible were celebrated with just a very big meal, and usually this meal follows a period of fasting, though not all holidays have this period.

One curious Christmas tradition however is the Christmas Ham. 

Jesus was not only a Jew, he was the king thereof. Ergo he would have stuck to a Kosher diet.

Now it does state somewhere in the New Testament that all sins are absolved through Him, but this is a passage that generally is spotted AFTER his murder. Prior to this, he would have had to access to ham or any reason to eat it, as most of the places where he was spotted had people living in them that also stuck to a Kosher diet.

Much of what we call Christmas only has Christ in the title. The actual Jesus aspect of it is celebrated on the wrong day, and any notion that December 25th should be a day of religion, is at best a misunderstanding of old traditions, and at worst sacrilege. (And often a topic of issue for believers.)

Why did I say sacrilege? Simple. Not only do we still have people celebrating on the wrong day, we also celebrate it in the current millennium with corporate greed, and gifts so expensive, people are willing to kill each other for them. 

I'm not a very religious person, but I'm pretty sure Jesus wouldn't want you to punch a woman over a smart phone. I'm also certain he'd take issue with corporations overworking and underpaying children in China, just so you can have that cute little $600 piece of plastic. And on a similar note, I'm certain that Saint Nick ~ being the patron saint of children ~ would also take umbrage at that.

So if you're serious about putting Christ back into Christmas, you need to start celebrating Christmas on April 17th. Have December 25th return to being a Winter Solstice, Santa-driven sleigh-ride of presents type of holiday, and you can return the proper Christmas in April, into being what it should have been all along.

A quiet dinner in Spring.

Share if you agree.

Little Shop ~ Little Shop(ping trip) of HORRORS ♫

If you can read this, and you are still at home, wondering if you should venture out for Black Friday...

*Shakes violently* FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY WITH CAT PISS, STAY YO' ASS AT HOME!!

We have the internet for cripes sakes!! Swallow your shipping pride and do it at home. Trust me when I say THERE IS NOTHING IN THIS WORLD WORTH SHOPPING BLACK FRIDAY!!

As I type this, I'm looking at a photo Johnny Gargano posted from inside a dangerous Wal*Mart:

Now you may see this picture, and just think "WOW! Maybe the economy is looking up? Look how many people are shopping like it's the end of the world."

But to veteran shoppers, it's a shell shock of a reminder of Xmas past.

Recently, I wrote about the first, last and only Black Friday I ever worked in retail. If you are out there working through the holiday pre-weekend right now, you have my respect. I don't wish that barbaric warfare on anyone. Not even the future workers for the Wal*Mart that may stand where my house is. Nope, not even them. If you ever want to know what savage, guerrilla combat feels like, 'tis the season.

The biggest problem are these stores never ordering enough merchandise to meet the mass hysteria. If I owned a Wal*Mart, and had the same amount of cash CEO Michael Duke has in his swimming pool, I'd line the damn store in Nintendos and TV sets. Screw the sweatpants kiosk! I'm ditching the canned beans shelf and just lining it with electronics and Elmos. (Too soon? Sorry...)

But this blog isn't about working on that fateful day, oh no. This is about shopping.

I once survived a series of Black Fridays ~ most of them in the SAME YEAR. If that thought alone doesn't terrify you, wait, it gets better.

Now coming into this world, I remember seeing bootleg tapes of the Cabbage Patch massacre of 1983. The tapes I think belonged to my mom's ex-co-worker. I wasn't born until 86, but I have seen the footage. Moms ripping the dolls from children's hands, dads punching moms, cars being tipped over, it was a frightening sight! But watching these tapes prepared me for the 1990's and beyond.

The early and mid 90's shopping seasons were bizarre. Power Rangers fever hit the nation, but God forbid should a Bradlee's bother to stock the damn things. Perish the thought. They'd order ONE box of eight, and then act all surprised when 30 parents come in, wanting a Green Ranger. I learned how to climb carts and ride as a human shield in the winter of 1994. Yeah, call me crazy, but I still have a plush White Ranger. What'chu got? Exactly.

But then in 1996 came a toy that could have started a civil war:

Now granted, my brother (then 4) wasn't really into Sesame Street, so he didn't seem to notice the doll. We were spared. But many parents would fight in the streets over the doll. I remember once just barely getting my brother to safety, when two people were threatening to club each other to death for that and a handful of Beanie Babies.

UGH... Beanie Babies. Don't get me started. ><

Well one such day, I went to a K-Mart with my mom and brother, and there, hidden in the spots department, was a shelf full of Tickle Me Elmos. I guess the staff had hidden the dolls from plain sight, hoping to take a few home for themselves.

Now I did something I probably shouldn't have. And karma does have a way of catching up to you... but I couldn't resist.

I pushed the shelf back into view, and then secretly activated ALL of the dolls.

I darted behind an aisle, just as a mom with a toddler walked up.

"Look honey! It's Tickle Me Elmo! And the mean old shop keepers said they were out."

No sooner did she lift her hand did ALL of the motion sensors go off.

HA HA HEE HEE HA HA HEE HEE HA HA HEE HEE

The little girl started crying. The mom grabbed her, screamed "DEMON DOLLY" and ran for her life. Mama and I spent the day activating all of the dolls, and waiting for people to freak out. By the 5th or 6th time though, all the batteries started to die, and Elmo's baby-like voice, morphed into a deep, demonic "MWA HA HEE HEEEEE HAAAAA HAAAA HEEE HEEEEEE" sound.

Now it's naughty, but I still do this. I've actually been thanked by parents who are looking for ways to ween their kids off of the latest trends. Two years ago, a dad shook my hand after I set off an electronic Mickey doll. The dad got to see first hand that it was too loud and that it wouldn't last. After 2-3 times the doll was set off, it keeled over, rammed it's hand up and down over it's pants and just screamed "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" before sparking and setting off a Target alarm. Needless to say, that father bought his daughter a quiet Lego set, instead of Mickey.

Karma did strike me a few years ago, when Hokey Pokey Elmo debuted. I set one of them off, and he dove off the side of the shelf. Feeling a little guilty, I knelt down to pick him back up.

Suddenly, the doll rolled, propping his feet against a display shelf. He started following me, and I must say the motion sensor was quite strong on this one. "ELMO WANTS TO KNOW WHERE YOU GOING??" screamed the plush as he chased me down the aisle.

But perhaps the worst Black Friday would be the Black Friday of 2000. EVERY Friday from the week before Thanksgiving until the week of Christmas was Black Friday, and I still have the wounds.

Every Sailormoon doll I own from 1999-2001 is like a tiny badge of honor. Anybody saying that this was an unpopular show with a niche audience, probably never lived in Chicagoland. I was beaten every week by little old ladies with canes, little girls with reflexes like spider monkeys and hostile psycho bitches wielding pepper spray ~ which until 2000 I thought was a salad topping. I didn't used to need reading glasses!!

This is my 12 inch Tuxedo Mask doll. He sits proudly on a shelf, less like an anime action figure and more like a trophy.

On the third Black Friday of 2000, I found him sitting way back on the shelf, the final Tuxedo Mask in the world at this point. Chibiusa's father had sold out at every other store in the world, including online stores, and there were plenty of photos of crazy bitches online, posing with him as if to say "Sailor Moon ain't got nothin' on ME" (If that scares you... GOOD.)

I had him in the cart. The K-Mart appeared empty. Mom turned her back for a split second, just to price an action figure for my brother.

Suddenly, out of the clear blue sky pops a woman that would make Madea seem as innocent as a kitten. She reaches into the cart, and grabs at Tuxedo Mask.

I slapped her hand out of the cart, and reached inside to secure him.

"I wantz that Tuxedo Mask doll. You don' need no damn doll. Ain't you too damn old to be liking DOLLS??" Chides Sharquella of the damned. (I wouldn't know her name, except it was sticking out from a tag she had in her purse.)

"Ain't YOU too old to be snatching dolls up outta other people's carts???" I snapped back.

She sunk her claws into my shoulder. I started bleeding.

"Gimmie dat doll!!" She bellowed. I refused to budge.

Mama whipped around with security, asking this woman to kindly remove her claws from my shoulder. Wanna know what Sharquella says?

"Aw c'mon now, y'all know I'm jus playin' right?" Just playing. Yeah. While my shoulder is spurting.

I may have a scar on my shoulder, but I still have Tuxedo Mask.

But I didn't have the chance to heal up from this battle wound. Just two weeks later, we had to go to the mall. I'm not kidding here when I say my DAD wanted a necklace and a tiara for Christmas. The only places back then that had them cheap were all in the mall.

Well most of the day seemed alright, if not unusually quiet. This was my brother's first Black Friday since his medication had stabilized, so we were going to celebrate his ability to walk again with a short trip to KB Toys. Ah KB. How I miss thee. Bah Humbug, Gnats, Nerts and a hardy and robust Fuck You with a frozen pineapple to Bain Capital for killing one of the greatest stores since Marshal Fields. (Fuck Macy's.)

But the closer we got to KB, the louder the sound of thunder was. A few steps farther, and my eyes adjusted to a horrific sight.

Crammed in the store, where several large, angry soccer moms.

Now when I say large, I do not mean "HERPDEDERP DEY IS FAT" Nu-no.

I mean large as in Mark Henry. Just imagine a bunch of Mark Henry, only Caucasian, blonde and with really ugly Target clothes. (And yes, they were bearded.) These women could have easily bench-pressed an early 70's BMW... one handed.

Orion's eyes got HUGE. My mom pushed down his coat around his elbows and kissed each of his cheeks.

"Mama.... are we gonna die??" Orion asked, his voice going up a few octaves.

I stretched, pushed my own coat down and put Vaseline over my cheekbones. Mama motioned her right hand in the shape of the cross over her body.

"MAMA?!?!" Orion yelped.

"Remember the plan?" Mama nodded to me. "On your mark... get set... GO!!!"

Snatching Orion's hand, I ran as fast as I could, blowing right under a 7 foot pair of legs.

I leap up through the doll aisle, snatching a Hello Kitty and a Sailor Mars. Make a turn for the action figure aisle, snatching up a few Pokemon, chucking a few at Orion. "USE YOUR RIGHT!!" I yelled as he grabbed a few just in time. A twist past the wrestling display grants me a Chibi Road Dogg and Big Show roller set. Another twist and I'm in the plushie aisle, grabbing one more Pokemon, when suddenly-

"KORI KORI KORI SOMEONES GOT ME!!" Some psycho bitch had grabbed Orion's jacket and was screaming "GIVE ME JIGGLYPUFF AND NOBODY DIES!!" I punched the woman, but she wouldn't let go. "ORION DROP THE ARMS!!" His coat falls backwards, causing the woman to fall, taking three more with her. I double back for all the lost toys, using the coat as a make-shift bag. (Bless you recalled and choke-able drawstrings!) The I snatch Orion up and start blowing past the video games.

Mama is at the counter, having just fought off a woman over a Pikachu keychain. Greedy bitch had 7 of her own, and tried to steal from my Mama! Bitch you got 7 and they're all the SAME keychain!! Mama screams "I'M OPEN!!" while elbowing another mom aside.

I grabbed Orion by the shirt, feeling the mom I punched earlier reaching for my coat. I pushed a few toys into his arms and chucked him as hard as I could. "LIVE!!!"

Orion tumbled, rolled and hit's Mama's leg. "HERE!!!" He screams, handing up the toys.

I start chucking Pokemon at Mama. She's rolling the toys over the scanner herself, as the cashier is too busy trying not to pee herself as the other moms and dads started climbing the Nintendo display behind her.

I start running at top speed, the final toy in my hands. I leap up and slam dunk the doll onto the scanner as Mama whips out the check. We grab the bags and start running like mad.

"I WANT JIGGLYPUFF!! GIVE ME JIGGLYPUFF!!" Bellows a voice from behind me. I turn and there are 5 angry moms, gunning for us. A compact was chucked at my leg, this bitch was out for blood and a soft, pink Pokemon.

We loaded Orion's little arms down with bags, and then hoisted him up like a sling, running as fast as we could through the mall. Getting to the rental car, I hurled Orion into the backseat and locked him in. Mama and I got in and Mama slammed her foot on the pedal. As she was moving the shift into gear, the moms jumped the damn car!! I turn around as Orion is screaming "DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE!!!"

These women had on those super light blue, cosmetic contact lenses, which from a distance made their eyes look icy. But on the back of a windshield as one psycho bitch after another is trying to cut their way into the rental with their keys, it looks less alluring and more like zombie soccer moms trying to break in.

Mama gets the car moving. The zombie soccer moms start falling off after a few miles, still screaming
"I WANT JIGGLYPUFF!!!"

Once home, my mother and I made a vow. Never again. I now do my shopping online, S&H be damned.

Not call myself Codename? What other name would suit me?

(The title is taken from my favorite Rankin/Bass special, Santa Claus is Comin' to Town.)

February 18, 2005, I was uploading the last of my newest website Moon Sisters to my old AOL Hometown account. But I had a small issue. What will be my pen name?

Back then, if you ran a Sailormoon page, the trend was that you would make up a picture of yourself, post it to the front or about pages, and have a nickname. It was also a trend to make up your own Sailor Senshi and back story. It's simple, harmless goofing off that really doesn't mean anything.

For years, I had the pen name "Sailor Earth" but there are over 104,224 other Sailor Earths in the world, and I was sick of the hate mail from this one 600 lbs. male, who complained that his skirt was prettier than mine. (It was the same. But with glitter. He's in prison now.)

Well I had already made this .gif image, and I didn't feel up to making a new one. So I thought, what can I do for a pen name, at least temporarily?

While uploading the site, I did a Google search so I could find more links for the link page. And that's when it hit me.

Sailormoon is actually a spin-off from the series Codename Sailor V, a series that follows Sailor Venus one year before she meets the rest of the cast. At the time, the books were not in English, but I told myself every day that one day, I'd read the whole series. (I now have multiple copies.) I just couldn't get over how cool she looks with those glasses.

And that's when it hit me. Codename!! I'll just add that to my pen-name. Nobody else in the whole world has it, so now it's mine.

I had a year of hate emails and people trying to rip from my page, but after that quelled, I had peace. I even befriended other "Sailor Earths" online, and for a while, some of us would joke in the role play forums that we were like the Green Lanterns of Sailor Senshi. Harmless fun.

But then in 2008, I noticed that YouTube was hyper taking down every third video I posted. At first I thought "Copyright BS" until I noticed that the names didn't add up. There were people posing as Warner employees, trying to take videos that have NO Warner Brothers content in them, at all!

Then in 2011, I was hyper trolled. I had all kinds of total strangers stalking me, harassing me, going after my family, posting hate about me, hacking me, every day was a nightmare, and I really didn't want to keep living. What the hell was going on?

But there's no better way to piss people off than to keep living and posting. So I did.

I also started a few other YouTube channels under different titles.

... And then something weird happened.

But the other channels *knock on wood* seem to be doing alright. Even the channel for my Sailormoon page is getting warm, positive comments. The channel with my actual name on it hardly gets any attention, but when it does, it's positive.

Everyone knows it's me on all of them, I don't hide that I own them, but only my Codename Sailor Earth channels have these wackos piling out from the woodwork. The rest are doing alright.

Every YouTube channel I've had under the "Codename Sailor Earth" moniker has had problems with trolling and people trying to put fake claims on MY videos. 

NONE of these freaks are Sailormoon fans, mind you. Most aren't even anime fans anymore. Not once do I see more than two Sailormoon fans going ape shit over it.

They're all ages 18-35, and feel the need to harass me and go nuts. Most of them aren't even into the things I like/post about. But they're quick to tell me all the ways they want to "expose" me and how they would want me to die. Not one of them are kids these days, it's split 60/40 men vs. women and most of them have been to college. The ones not harassing me are trying to take credit for videos I've made myself.

I've seen other people take on the "Sailor Earth" name with zero trolling. So what is it about the word "Codename" that sets people off?

RIP Charles DeHitler Cat... or run for your life, whichever.

The lawyer called today. My folks go in for another hearing on both the house and their divorce next week. The call could not have come at a better time, in fact I'm thinking of sending the whole office a lovely holiday card this year. That's how happy I was to hear the phrase "to talk about the divorce".

Mama is happy. She is 99.99% divorced and is re-reading The Secret.

My dad is... well I can guess he's happy. He seems to be laughing. A whole lot. About his girlfriend, Maryse.

Oh wait... maybe that's not a good thing? Ho boy.

"Maryse" as you may recall, is a 39 year old ex-children's-French teacher who "totally talks leik this and stuff, like OMG a wing bar waitress and junk" she's a Twilight fan and she is bat-shit crazy. The last time I talked about her she was trying to put a hex and a curse on my father, because he has gout. She thought she was a witch. 

Now, when I say witch, I don't mean "respectable follower of Wicca" oh no. I mean the stereotypical "And yer little dog TOO" type.

Keep in mind, she has already bred. She has a teenage son and a granddaughter.

Well since my last blog, Chicago Public Schools have re-hired her. Now "she leik totally OMG" tries to teach French and "proper thinking" to children 10 and under. Proper thinking you ask? Why yes. This loon actually believes that the book "Freakonomics" is a curriculum. I am not kidding. She even made my dad watch the movie version on repeat ~ for 10 hours straight ~ while he was hyped up on medication and wine. She said that wine would be a good mix for his medication. I'm thinking she is trying to kill him.

I actually bumped into her while shopping a month after the last blog was posted. Since she doesn't know I have a blog, I didn't see the need to tell her about it. I don't even use her real name, after all. I shook her cold, zombie hand and wished her the best with my dad.

Well in her book, saying "It's great to see you, I hope you and Dad are doing well" is (her words) German for "I hope you fall into a well and drown in rust water". Yeah, she thought it was German code.

She also claims that every friend I have ever had is a lie, my relatives are figments of my imagination, my blogs and websites don't exist and I'm somehow trying to mooch in on my father's "wealth". 

For the record, my father is uninsured and unemployed. He blew through the $10 an hour job money he had left quite a while ago, and now is a freelancer making less than minimum wage. He has all the pension of a ham sandwich. Exactly WHAT the hell fortune do you think he has, crazy lady??

She also claims that being a witch is boring her, so now she wants to be a Buddhist. Unfortunately, this psycho believes that reading books about Lao-tzu is the path to enlightenment, so I don't think she understands what being a Buddhist means. 

But recently, my house got a 2 a.m. phone-call. My father was relaying some very troubling news.

For several weeks in a row, Maryse was threatening to kill herself, and then come back as a poltergeist and kill him too. Then she decided not to kill herself, but instead threatened to will him into being deathly sick, cure him, make him sick again, and then magically have his gout kill him, so he can be reborn as a Black man, as punishment for having gout. 

If you read my last blog, you already know this is NOT the first time the racist psycho has done this.

So rather than just say "BYE BITCH" and hang up the phone, my idiot father actually went over to her house. Why that sounds so safe, doesn't it? Walking alone in the dark in the middle of the night, to the house of a crazy person threatening to kill you via mind-rays (again, her words not mine) and make you come back as a racial minority she hates. Sure, fine, go ahead. Totally alright.

So upon entry, he sees her caressing a broken pitcher.

Let me stop here and explain the pitcher. If you read my last blog about Maryse, then you know she takes my dad to garage sales all over the place. Well after I wrote that blog, he bought her a 1950's, mass manufactured pitcher for $1. This is the type of pitcher you find at the Goodwill, all over the store. There are literally millions of these things, and odds are good that if it's being sold at $1, it ain't that precious.

Well the pitcher is made of old glass. She put piping hot tea into the old, frail glass.

The old, frail, glass pitcher broke.

She thinks it's my dad fault for liking tea so much. If he didn't like tea, she wouldn't have had to make the tea and put it into the most frail, piece of glass possible. Never mind that he wasn't even in her house and never asked her for tea, oh no. By liking it, she must make it, and so it is his fault.

So there she is, caressing the shards of glass and weeping. He asks her what the problem is.

It's Charles.

I last blogged about Charles last year. For those who don't know, Charles is a stray cat that Maryse adopted... from Japan. She legit paid $500 to have the alley stray shipped from Japan to America. Only, she didn't adopt Charles legally. She just found him haphazardly in an alley, goosestepping between two boxes. She didn't bother to check if he had an owner. That's not even half of the problem. This is Charles:

A one-eyed Hitler cat. 

Charles has a bad cough. When he has a hairball, he goes "HEIL HEIL HEIL REEEEEICH" until it comes out. I can't make this up. I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to film this, but I'm highly allergic to cats.

Well recently, Charles was very sick. He also wouldn't go near her, even if the world stopped spinning. He wouldn't eat from her hand, wouldn't cuddle, he'd just wearily try to escape.

Charles started going out at night, and not coming back for days. Each time he came back, he'd be even more sick. The vet didn't want anything to do with him, since the cat tried to chew off his name tag.

(Please don't ask me to post the name. You get where this is going.)

So Maryse asked my dad to go looking for Charles. And like a complacent boyfriend, he did just that. Looking under bushes, in the alley, Charles is nowhere to be found.

Now on the day this blog takes place, she had phoned, screaming that Charles was dead, but when my dad got there, she retracted the story, saying only that she hasn't found Charles and thinks he "might" be dead. 

For the record, Charles has died about 6 times in the last two weeks, the second to last time, I was on the phone with a friend when Charles allegedly fell to his doom from her bedroom window, after she accidentally pushed him, then he rolled in the dirt and caught kitty-cancer. Then he rose up, coughed out the cancer but contracted another mysterious illness while crawling back tot he house. Now if he could survive that, I'm not opposed to the idea he may have survived a really long day's journey into the alley down the road from her.

Maryse is sad. Not because Charles has run away and might be dead though. Oh no, perish the thought. That would make far too much good sense.

She is sad, because she wants Charles to hurry back to her, and die peacefully at home, in her bed.

Then, (once more, her words not mine) once his soul has been released, she wants to turn him into a stole. So she can always have him near her, wherever she goes. 

I'm not joking around, her taxidermist is on speed dial. I didn't even know we had one in the area!

She says she wants to rub the fur of it with oils, and keep it's soul as her guardian, to watch over her when she tried to have my dad strangled in agony with gout.

But alas, Charles has disobeyed her, how dare he die on his own somewhere. She believes Charles has chosen to die elsewhere, just to spite her.

Now how does my dad handle this news?

He went straight home, and began mailing her postcards, forging Charles's signature. Yes, you read that right. She was in the process of teaching Charles to write, so he could show his appreciation for her. I seriously can't make this up.

So far, she truly believes the cards are from Charles, and hasn't yet pieced together that cats don't mail postcards. Especially not after they are dead.

.... And she's a Chicago Public School Teacher....

In search of Toon Makers ~ Release Sailor Saban Moon!

A year ago, I posted a blog about the infamous Toon Makers video. I re-rendered it in HD, posted it on one of my YouTube accounts, and just left it there.

For those of you who don't know, let me catch you up.

Sailormoon is my favorite anime and manga series.

I am also a purist when it comes to comics, meaning that I despise any production that tries to "re-in-vision" a comic's original story. (Let's make Spider-Man EMO! Let's not and say we did. >_O) The Sailormoon anime that ran from 1992-1997 in Japan, the first TMNT cartoon and a few of the Batman series' are the ONLY things I will actually give any leeway to when it comes to story.

With that said, you can imagine my utter shock and horror upon seeing that in 1994, a company called Toon Makers/Toonmakers tried to re-make Sailormoon for an American audience.

That looks NOTHING like Sailor Moon at all!!! It's freaking SHE-RA!!!

I don't know what offended me more. Seeing my beloved characters completely re-designed into sexualized stereotypes, (Mercury would no longer be the "smart one in this, as she was degraded into being into parties and boys in this version, also, Sailor Venus in the Toon Makers script threatens to kill a man over makeup) seeing the plot completely ripped to shreds, no wait. I have what offends me most right here:

Yeah, for trying to be racially sensitive, they managed to draw probably the most racially insensitive thing imaginable. >_O

Now I've been chronicling the whole mess on Moon Sisters, and I recently added a new sub-page, devoted to this ungodly mess: Toon Makers Sailor Moon ~ The Saban Moon Never Seen! Why is it called Saban Moon when Saban had nothing to do with it? Simple. It looks like they would have done it. Worse? Three of the companies that helped Saban birth Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Renascence, BanDai and Toei)  would have been a part of it, had it not been for the people at Toei Animation throwing the world's biggest conniption fit. (And thank God for it.)

But just to show you my own, personal Hell, here it is:

Now when I wrote that first blog, I didn't think anything of it. I had the entire back story of how it was made posted on a revised blog, and that was it. I just wanted to keep the history alive, and then run as fast as I could from it. I wound up putting a Sailormoon DVD on loop on the DVD player, just to wash this memory away.

But then came the news I dreaded hearing. Two words that shook me to my core.

"There's more."

Somewhere on VHS exists a full, 17 minute pilot. It has yet to surface, but I fear that day is coming quite soon.

Worse?

Well if you took a gander at my website just now, you probably noticed an asinine number of Toon Makers Sailor Moon cels. GAH!?!?!

Now the cels are being sold by several, different eBay sellers. But almost all of them are coming from California.

The sellers all have armloads full of "NOT" Sailor Moon, as well as She-Ra, X-Men, Archie, BraveStarr  and a whole catalog of other 80's-90's animation cels. ALL of them are drawn exactly the SAME.

This made me curious. Did Toon Makers die? Are they folding?

A visit to the Toon Makers website: Toon Makers Inc. didn't turn up anything new. In fact, the last site update was in 2008, and that was just to add a copyright date.

Their last known project is probably from 2003, but I can't actually verify that.

What I can verify is that they've done a great job of patting themselves on the back. Mostly for things they either did NOT do or should not be posting.

They falsely claim to have been behind the production team of two, very funny anime titles: Flint: Time Detective and Mon Collie Knights.

For the record, Sanrio created Flint, Enoki Films animated Flint, and Saban distributed it in the US. Toon Makers had zilch to do with Flint.

Mon Colle Knights was brought to us by Studio DEEN and Saban. Again, Toon Makers had NOTHING to do with Mondo, Rockna or anybody else on the show.

(By the way, if you can find them, let me know! I want the DVDs. ^_^)

Toon Makers also takes credit for a Darth Vader knock-off, called "Darth Vapor". Not exactly what I'd be advertising if I was my own company. If you scroll left to right on their page, you'll notice a few other designs that look suspicious.

But outside of a few cartoon ads that I can verify existing, I can't find anything they've legit done or finished after 2003. You know something's wrong when Google turns up empty handed. The only thing I got was their current contact information:

Rocky Solotoff On LinkedIn and on Facebook

Raymond I.

17333 Ludlow St.

Granada Hills , CA 91344

Phone: (818) 832-8666

Web: www.toonmakers.com 

Email: info@toonmakers.com

Data.com entry

Their Toon Digital page has been shut down. The page would have been the hub for their CGI goods. The main "About" page has them touting work they claim to have done for FOX, including Fern Gully, the first Tom & Jerry movie, The Pagemaster and the top movies from Don Bluth. I've rented all of them and have read the credits. Toon Makers is 100% ABSENT from mention. Matter of fact, another film they take credit for (Fievel Goes West) is in my video cabinet. I've seen the film 22 times and still have the VHS box. Toon Makers is not mentioned.

This leads me to question if Toon Makers is a fraudulent company, save but for this one video. Outside of my other blog post, ALL mentions of them working on these films are solely on their About page. The credits they claim do not exist anywhere else but on their own website.

Founder Rocky Solotoff did work as one of the many "producers" for the FOX, Saban and Don Bluth projects, but not Toon Makers, as each of these films had their own stock of animators, editors and the like. There wouldn't have been a need for Toon Makers.

There is one Art and Design entry where they lifted a Power Ranger drawing, and then lied, claiming it to be their own "Gladiator" sketch, and then there's a blank Facebook page, and an article about home-made animation studios from Creative Planet with the date missing, but nothing more.

A post from Crunchyroll in 2009 proclaimed the company "defunct" which offers little in the ways of an explanation. There's no timetable for when this could have mercifully happened, and doesn't explain why the website is still up, there are LinkedIn accounts for the founder and one other person ~ both claiming that Toon Makers Inc. is still open for business ~ and it also does not explain why they are still listed by various art schools and business websites as viable, active portals for job-seekers.
(Though admittedly, most of these job listings are a farce, but that's another story.)
Most of the business sites just copy-paste from Toon Makers's page.

But in concurrence with Crunchyroll's story, Rocky Solotoff's Facebook states that we was there until 2010, though he pops up again in a 2011 article, linking to the Toon Makers page. Then recently in 2012, an article from Corporation Wiki proclaimed the company "active" in the state of California and Solotoff as it's owner.

But no sooner had the article been posted was the internet flooded with these lost cels.

So which is it? Is Toon Makers Inc. dead or alive?

Is this all just now coming out because a second anime is on the way?

I fear the answer to these and the location of that lost, 17 minute pilot are not that far behind...

A letter to the lost...

(NOTE: I'll post a more funny blog in a bit. This is just one last thing I want to get off my chest.)

I wanted to come home in time.

I never understood why my father dragged us all over the place. He said it was for his "career" but when you make a "career" out of getting fired from one retail job after another, it hardly seems worth six years of travel.

Oh sure, I learned alot, and the people I saw back then turned me into who I am right now, and I don't think I could be a better person without those experiences. In fact, I've made peace with it all. I have a reminder every day that it all worked out for the best.

But really, I miss you. I'll never forget that day in September of 1997 when Mama came downstairs with the news. I never understood the phrase "you can't go home again" until that moment.

Every December when we lived back home, Mama would bake a ton of sweet potato pies, and then we'd drive up to see you. Naomi would be in the kitchen, waiting with a kiss. And sometimes you'd call around, and Aunt Cleotha, Uncle Richard, everybody, everybody would come over. We'd all have pie, and there was talking and laughter. Always, it felt like a party. I still remember losing a few skin layers on the plastic covered sofa, when I tried to get up to greet someone and forgot the heat was on. The crinkling of the thick, heavy photo albums with all the glued in photos of Native American relatives I still haven't met yet. This visit was always the signal to me that Christmas really was coming soon.

But we don't have Decembers like that anymore.

All of you are gone now, except for Pam, she lives in the city. But I guess you knew that already.

And your son is doing alright with his girlfriend. You'd be proud of him. He's been clean for 16 years next month, and he's getting into motivational speaking. A few years back, he was part of a rally, to bring benefits and safer working conditions to a ton of people in California. He and Mama long ago reconciled their issues with all the times he was absent when she was growing up, so they're thick as thieves now. Best friends.

Your adopted daughter last I heard was up north, but I haven't seen her in ages.

Every December now, I look over to Mama, and I say "Hey! Let's hurry and bake those pies for..." and I remember you're gone. I shake my head, say "never mind" and then cheerfully request sweets anyways.... probably not a GOOD idea for my health, since everyone down here is afraid of diabetes and the obesity monster... but whatever, Mama's a good cook and I'll work it off.

I have blood, but we all live far away. The family I have up here, I adopted. And I want to talk to you about them, but I'll get to that in a bit.

 Anyway, I'm not typing this out to talk about Christmas. It's 7 weeks away after all. I'm just trying an experiment. They say that people can see from the other side, and that if there is a Heaven, it's likely past the Milky Way, and not in the clouds as we once thought. But we've chucked more than a few satellites up there, so if you can't see this now, hang tight. NASA will fix it shortly.

I'm typing to let you know... we did it.

We have a man in office, who is Black, White, and just became a two term president.

A two term, ethnic president.

Want to know the best part?

WHITE people voted him in!! :D

No really. They did!

... I know, RIGHT????

They voted not because he's Black, they voted because they liked his platform. He could have been blue, green, polka-dotted, and they would have voted for him anyways!

We finally live in that world Dr. King talked about in Alabama. That world where little Black kids and Little White kids could play together? Yeah, that's actually today. You've only been gone since 1997, so you already saw all the integration as it happened... but a TWO TERM BLACK PRESIDENT, OMG right???

I have White friends who are as good to me as family now. (My adopted kin.) They don't even notice I'm Mixed. They don't seem to care much at all about it, just as long as I'm still .. well I guess the word is.. me. Nobody seems to care if they catch me hanging out with them either. It's no longer a Life Magazine story, it's just called "Saturday" now. (Or Monday or Tuesday, ect.) So I'm ok.

There are still some places that hold racist riots, but those people are called "idiots" now. Nobody seems to pay heed to their words anymore.

...We even have Black Disney Princes and Princesses now.... no REALLY, we do! We had a Chinese Princess after you died, too. They're not novelties, and nobody was in Blackface, it's for real. Like a normal Disney movie, just with different paint!

All that marching you did, the rallies, it all paid off. We're all the same, and it seems like everyone is evolving.

We're all friends now, and we have that world that you wanted to see.

We're doing ok now.

Thanks, Great Grandpa.

Love,
Kori

There's no such thing as a woman who "just has" an abortion.

Let me preface this by saying that while I'm pro-choice, I do want to be a mom one day. I've never been pregnant, never, not once, didn't even try the video game demo at the store, but I have studied the phenomenon, and it doesn't seem like an entirely bad idea. 

I'm not going to raise a stink about it, chase a dude down in a parking lot for it, or randomly drop a few grand to some doctor in a strip mall with a turkey baster, but it just so happens that I like kids.

It's morons I have a problem with. Especially those who hide behind the Bible, but never read it.

First thing this morning, I got up to vote. My nearest voting poll is at a church, and is generally run by friendly faces. They don't mind people of other faiths, and in case you're curious, NO I did NOT catch fire upon entry.

Waiting outside, circling the masses like starving vultures getting off the Atkins' diet, were two fat women, handing out cards and demanding to see our voting cards.

You should know by now that I'm not stupid enough to fork over my voting card to any random stranger in a J.C. Penny coat.

"Hi thenk yew fer comin owt tuday" Screeches a woman in a wing bar waitress voice. "Meek shur yew heve yer voturs registreeshun cerd, okeee?" 

She hands my mom a card.

"Who is this?" Mama asks.

"It's fer a Republiceeen."

"No thank you. I'd rather you not cut down anymore trees for cards like these."

The woman glares at us (as Mama puts it) like we spat in her cookies.

So I vote, and upon exiting the church, I hear the two fat ladies making fun of someone they read about on Facebook. "What's wrong with morons todeey? I KNOW people who have abeertions left and right. I hope they die. hahahahahaha Leik WOW man, even a rape baby is a baby."

Now I am in a CHURCH parking lot. Granted, a church across the street from a tobacconist and a bar, and a church that shares a parking lot with the second largest fireworks store in the state, but it's a CHURCH anyway. And I haven't had my coffee yet. And I'm floating by on less than 4 hours of sleep and I already have a migraine starting. I'm not so devious as to curse out a pair of morons on sacred ground.... a fifth time. Generally, my discussions look like this:

And always, I hear the same, lame excuse from everybody who sears they're a Christian.

"Well ... I KNOW women who just HAVE abortions all the time."

REALLY?? You do? AWESOME! Why don't you send me a video, picture, her name and phone number, or better yet, have the bitch email me and then post a public comment, right under this blog, because...

I DON'T BELIEVE SHE FUCKING EXISTS!!

Wake up and smell the roses people, there is NO such thing as a woman who "just has" an abortion. They do not exist. 

You have a better chance of finding Bigfoot ~ swimming in my backyard ~ while wearing roller skates and YODELING in Swahili.

Every woman who has had one, whether it's because she's been raped, it's incest, she's broke and can't afford it, the child will be born dead/sick or it's egg-topic and it comes down to her OR the fetus, I promise you, she has had plenty of time to grieve, question herself, and ask if she's going to Hell because of it.

And I am sick to death of people who say "well just give it up for adoption then" REALLY?? Let me take you through pregnancy, and what FOR REAL happens to a woman:

1. Your organs are rearranged to house this thing. Why do I say thing? Because until birth ~ WAKE UP ~ it is NOT a born child yet. That's why they don't call fetuses "born". It is NOT capable of being a fully functional, living thing until BIRTH. Until then, it is (I hate saying this because I do actually like babies a whole lot) fully reliant upon the woman. These science experiments take up ALOT of space, so the organs MUST move. Life does NOT begin until birth. 

2. You gain weight, why? Because your uterus fills with amniotic fluid. Also you need to maintain a certain amount of weight in order for the fetus to draw nutrients from you. That's right, whatever YOU eat, the fetus gets a hefty chunk of it. I hope you appreciate your mom more now that you've read this, because until you were truthfully a BORN person, you were taking everything from her, like those creepy aliens in those horror movies from the 80's.

3. Your hormones go out of control.

4. You now have to purchase bigger clothes, clothes for the child, furniture, food, diapers, lotion, all sorts of things for what "may" be a born person. Do you think that comes free?? Don't be stupid! We have:

NO Government program that covers prenatal clothing.

NO Government program that covers prenatal care ~ without an assload of paperwork and DCFS trying to take the baby from you FOREVER.

And if you think for one minute that there are ANY jobs that want to hire pregnant women, you've lost your mind. Whatever didn't get outsourced to China still won't take her ~ because pregnancy is a RISK. Think hard, if ANYTHING happens to that fetus while she's on the job, the company is LIABLE.

5. Total strangers call you "pregnant welfare whore" until you pop. This even happens to monogamous, MARRIED women. 

6. Assuming the fetus makes it to "birth-day" the woman's body contracts, stretches, rips itself open or otherwise is CUT apart, just to get the kid out. And don't think for one minute those drugs they give you are safe. Plenty of women get sick or die on the table, trying to give birth.

7. The hospital will charge you upwards of $10-20,000 for giving birth. Do you think your precious little insurance companies will cover it? HA HA WRONG!! And that's not even counting the untold thousands that go into prenatal doctor visits or the child's first year of WEEKLY pediatrician visits ~ and that's if he/she's born healthy! Price skyrockets up if the poor thing has a medical condition.

So "just give it up for adoption" hardly seems like an affordable option. Do YOU have $20,000??

If it was YOUR body, how would you feel?

I used to live in a neighborhood full of parents who had been bullied out of abortion. Oh sure, they loved each other, but they openly hated their kids. And DCFS wouldn't let them put them up for adoption, without coming back to take ALL the other "wanted" children. Forever. Like you get NO go-backs here. You never see them again.

Do you have any idea what it does to a kid to know he only exists, because a church he NEVER goes to, bullied his parents into keeping him when "dear old Mom" was 13 and repeating the 7th grade? 

The kids I lived near got into gangs, sex and all kinds of trouble. Their parents didn't care and could not get rid of them, without Johnny Law kicking down the door. Oh yeah, they sure did feel "saved" didn't they?

And yet there are people, hiding behind the Bible, claiming that a woman's rights are a "sin". Funny, I don't remember any such passage in there. But here's what I do remember from the book:

Deuteronomy 20:17 has a bit in there where God allowed the mass killing of the Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites ~ including pregnant women. That is the biggest, mass abortion I've ever heard of. Good grief! Now mind you, there was a plan for this in the long run, but you'd be ignorant to miss this passage.

Genesis: 34 has a segment where Dinah, daughter of Jacob ~ was raped. She was NOT told "just deal with it and have whatever happens" NOPE! There was justice for her ~ as GOD DOES NOT EVER CONDONE RAPE!!

And let's not forget three more passages, for those of you still calling abortion a sin:

(Acts 13:39 ) - "and through Him everyone who believes is freed from all things, from which you could not be freed through the Law of Moses."

(Titus 2:13-14 ) - "looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus; who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from every lawless deed and purify for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good deeds."

(1 John 1:9 ) - "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

In case you can't read, let me spell it out. ALL SINS ARE ABSOLVED THROUGH JESUS if you really believe he exists. 

And if you really believe in a God, and you think he created everything, then you must know that science is high on the list of things he made. Evolution is not just something atheists talk about you know.

So let that be the end of that, Christians.

Don't be a ditz, VOTE!!

I'm often shocked when people say "Well I hate them ALL, Why bother voting? It doesn't matter."

I get it, the two party system is outdated. But what do you expect, when every Libertarian  Independent and Green Party candidate gives up on themselves, cries like a little girl on Twitter, and turns out to be a Tea Partier in disguise?

"I'm gonna beat the system and create change. Wait... I have to worry about Libya, Iran, Iraq and Terrorists?? All the US jobs are in China and there are old farts calling the unemployed losers because they can't get the job that's now in Beijing? There are Gays and Women being treated like animals and people are trying to revoke their rights because they believe in false profits who wear ugly robes instead of actually believing in science and the notion that God made us to evolve? The economy is in the toilet? Oh no. No I'm not ready for this. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve OOOOOOoooo *waives hands* OMG OMG OMG Um um... vote for the other guy!! *cries* Mommy??"

Give me a Ross Perot over any of those "kind-of-pendants" PLEASE.

I don't know. Maybe it's because I watched the dubbed version of the second Pokemon film, where they drive the point home that it really "only takes one person" but I feel that every voice matters, even in a cracked system where the electoral college (secluded from reality, living in a basement somewhere in Washington DC with the A/C turned off 100% of the time) decides most of the nation's future for us, one vote can still mean the difference between "eh, could be better" and "JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH they brought us back to 1865!!"

And I'm sick of the morons who pick candidates based on religion. Am I the only person left alive, who read the passage in the Bible, where Jesus turned over the change tables and protested against the church?? REALLY?? New Testament people, thumb through it once in a while. If you really believe there is a God somewhere, then don't you think he'd want us to EVOLVE??

Oh, and you want to cancel out my rights to my own body as a woman, because you think my having a choice is a "sin". So you DON'T believe that all sins are absolved through Jesus? Then you must not believe in Jesus at all if you're trying to kill my rights, and the rights of the Gay friends I have. Some Christian you turned out to be.

But enough about that, we have separation of church and state anyway. It's what stops us from being like the Taliban. Bunch of freaks, the lot of them.

But anyway, let's go back to the story of why not only am I voting, but I've encouraged other people to vote as well.

In my family, voting is considered a high priority. Reason being? We've only had it for a few generations.

On my mother's father's side, I can trace his roots to a plantation out in Alabama. While I can't go too far for his father's side (more on him in a bit) I can go back to my Great Grandmother's Great Grandma, Mandy.

Great-Gran-Mandy was what they called "High Yellow" or "High Yella". That means she was pale enough to pass for White, and pass she could. She had light hair, light eyes and freckles. If she walked, nobody would have known that she was part Black. She was either the daughter or granddaughter of the man who owned the plantation, a man named William Craig. When he died, he left her a trunk of dresses and pretty things. Things a slave would not ordinarily have, but a descendant would.

The next owner of the plantation mated her off to the darkest man he could find, so she's have a child (Johanna) and feel forced to stay on the plantation, rather than to pick up and leave. During the course of the next few years, she had to watch has family and friends were bought and sold off, like used sneakers on eBay.

Even after slavery ended in 1865, my family did not have the right to vote. Mandy and Johanna never had the freedoms we take for granted today.

The right for a man of color to vote, was not ratified as the 15th amendment until February 3, 1870. But even back then, if you went to a voting place that was largely segregated, you would have to endure taunts, teasing, and sadly, deadly lynchings, before you'd reach the poll. People would curse you, call you names, and plenty of places would turn away Colored voters.

As for women? HA! The right for a woman to vote wasn't ratified until August 18, 1920. That is 50 years, six months and 15 days after the right for Colored people to vote was made legal. 

It wasn't an easy fight either. Women before the right was ratified were often times jailed, beaten, sent to mental wards and even sterilized. Oh yeah. Our country 'tis of thee was into Eugenics long before Hitler. And that's a sick, disgusting and frightening concept. I'm actually more frightened by US History than I am the standard horror flick!

And you would think it ends there on that sunny day in 1920. NOPE!

My ancestors had to fight even after that, as voting polls were tight under the Jim Crow watch. If you were a Black woman trying to vote as recently as the 1950's, catcalls and slurs would be your BEST hope.

And I knew a man in my own family who was no stranger to catcalls:

This is my Great Grandpa. And I'm lucky to say I got to know him before it was too late.

When he was growing up, he didn't have the chance to go to an integrated school. He went to a school designated for Black kids. His books were hand-me-downs, often with pages missing or messed up with snack food grease. 

So what he would do, is he'd drag his little brother and little sister over to the White schools. They'd sit by the window and learn from there. And always, they'd have people ~ starting with adults ~ catcalling them, throwing rocks at them, all because they wanted an education.

When his parents died young, he left the 8th grade and went straight to work, to support his brother and sister. He was a smart man too, I'm sorry I didn't get all of my math genes from him. He saved his money and spent wisely. Despite the odds, he did live the American Dream for the most part. Bought his own land, built a house on it, put his siblings through school, his son, and plenty of other people. Even saved enough to fully pay off his own funeral and resting place a decade in advance, and go on one annual vacation and change out the car when he felt the need to.

But the struggle didn't cease. He knew that he still didn't have the freedom to walk down his own street if a White man did. He knew that he couldn't shop or eat at the same places as everyone else. 

And most of all, his son had just had a daughter with a White woman, but they weren't allowed to get married anyplace near the army base where they met, without his son going to prison.

Ah... something had to change.

He marched in Alabama with Dr. King. (Yes, THAT one.) He survived race riots, and just like any other red blooded American, he voted.

I said he voted.

He voted, and let his voice be heard.

He got his family and his friends to vote. It was like second nature to them.

He was told that it wouldn't matter. That everyone sucks so why bother? He was told that he was just playing into a "corporate fantasy" and that nobody could change the future. Voting doesn't matter. Nothing changes. Nobody cares if you vote. Don't vote, don't do it, voting means nothing. He was told all of this.

...He also sat front row, when his Black son married a White woman. 

HA HA.

We don't know what vote was the deciding factor in deciding who would take office in each of the states where officials signed off on the notion of it being legal to marry outside of your race. We don't know which civilian exactly, sent in the final card that broke down a Jim Crow rule here or there. But nobody in my family cared. They voted anyways.

Every vote, no matter how weak or feeble does count. It counts somewhere, and in the history books, it's always noted when someone has tampered with the machines to erase the American peoples' choice, to fatten the wallets of already rich morons. Even there, those votes count.

So tomorrow morning, I'm voting. I have alot on the line here.

I have not only my rights as a woman to vote for, but the rights of every woman. My cousins, my second cousins, any female prodigy I might have. That's alot of ovaries to think about!

I have to pick between a moron who used Bain Capital to send MY US jobs overseas, and a dude who's picked on because he's not God, and people think that "Hawaii born Christian" is spelled M-U-S-L-I-M.

I have to vote between someone trying to rebuild my economy, and a dog-hating fat cat who wants to kill the last of my generation in another fake war.

I have to vote between some guy trying to get congress to stop vetoing every job creating bill he signs off on, and someone who just sent my last job to China, in exchange for lead paint goods and combustible laptops filled with BPA's.

I have alot riding on this vote.

I can't chicken out now.