my mother is a child. almost every night i have to wake her up from sleeping on the couch after hours upon hours of playing computer games WHILE watching television. tonight i woke her up and she had fallen asleep with the remote control still pointed at the television. every time i awake her, she sits up a little startled, so i go back in my room, come out five minutes later and she's asleep again. i finally just stopped waking her up again and again and just started turning off the tv. i clean the kitchen and do the dishes every day. she leaves food out when she's done cooking. i didn't clean it up this last time to see if she would. she didn't. there's a bowl of mashed potatoes and another of green beans that has been on the counter for well over 24 hours. it'll still be there tomorrow. and the next day until i clean it up. she doesn't put anything back where it goes. she'll leave the butter on the counter and not put it back in the refrigerator. she let's the cats roam the kitchen counters and throw up on the dining room table and not clean it up. she eats a giant cup of ice cream drowned in coke or dr. pepper every. single. night. she smokes two cigarettes at a time and leaves the door open so the smell comes in the house.
WHY DID I NOT NOTICE THESE THINGS BEFORE!? GET ME OUT OF HERE. DEAR GOD, PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Uses of Poverty: The Poor Pay All
Thesis: Poverty and those associated with it- the poor, serve positive and often necessary functions in society. These positive functions explain the persistence of poverty and why it is an obligatory part of the social order. Also expressed are alternate functions that could replace those served by the poor, but at a higher price to those more prosperous.
Summary: The author explains the continuous existence of poverty as an indication that it fulfills unrecognized, constructive functions. Among the economical functions is the fact that the poor are willing to work the dirty, underpaid, and often dangerous jobs that the higher classes are not. If poverty were to cease to exist, society would have to pay higher wages to those less eager to do these undignified jobs. Poverty also creates jobs for those who make careers out of servicing the underprivileged. It is noted that without poverty penology, the police, and other crime prevention organizations would be minute. Socially, the poor provide a cultural purpose “when culture created by or for them is adopted by the more affluent. The rich often collect artifacts from extinct folk cultures of poor people; and almost all Americans listen to the blues, Negro spirituals, and country music, which originated among the Southern poor”(p.22, Pp3). Another social function of poverty is that puts the minds of higher classes at ease, knowing that their status is certain as people feel the need to know where they stand, and the poor serve as a basis of comparison. Among political functions, the poor advocate conventional norm. “Not only does the alleged moral deviancy of the poor reduce the moral pressure on the present political economy to eliminate poverty but socialist alternatives can be made to look quite unattractive if those who will benefit most from them can be described as lazy, spendthrift, dishonest and promiscuous”(p.23, Pp4). The author also suggests functional substitutes to poverty, such as paying higher wages to employees doing the “dirty work”, and the professionals who prosper because of the poor could be found alternate means of work. A stated, many functions served by the poor could be eliminated and replaced, but usually at a higher cost to those who flourish because of the existence poverty.
Response/Synthesis: Americans today tend to believe that poverty is an overall horrific thing. What functional socialists do is make you question such judgments, as Grans has done in this article. I believe that our society would function much differently, perhaps worse or perhaps better, if poverty were to cease to exist. I don’t really believe that we can say without experience, what the outcome of such a situation would be. There may be latent functions, or unanticipated positive effects on social order and stability if poverty were eliminated. Deficiency in the lowest class certainly has no constructive result on the poor themselves, so is it ethically correct to condone and want for them to continue these poor quality lives for our own good? I believe it’s survival of the richest in America, and maybe even the world. Maybe society adapts to whatever is thrown at it. If there had never been such a thing as poverty, we would function just perfectly. But since it does exist, a complete turnaround would be a difficult thing to adjust to. Other roles need to be found for badly trained and incompetent professionals serving the poor, because they shouldn’t be serving anyone if they’re lacking the ability to do the jobs they claim they’re able to. Alternatively, on a psychological medium, maybe the idea of poverty is what keeps the entire country from turning into materialistic, selfish people. Of course, those people do already exist, but if poverty were eliminated, would we all be that way? Perhaps the poor keep us realistic and grounded, and aware of our society. If I never saw what could happen to me if I didn’t have the money and things that I do, I might not be as thankful, or I might spend more frivolously and not have a care in the world of what were to happen to me, as may the rest of society.
Summary: The author explains the continuous existence of poverty as an indication that it fulfills unrecognized, constructive functions. Among the economical functions is the fact that the poor are willing to work the dirty, underpaid, and often dangerous jobs that the higher classes are not. If poverty were to cease to exist, society would have to pay higher wages to those less eager to do these undignified jobs. Poverty also creates jobs for those who make careers out of servicing the underprivileged. It is noted that without poverty penology, the police, and other crime prevention organizations would be minute. Socially, the poor provide a cultural purpose “when culture created by or for them is adopted by the more affluent. The rich often collect artifacts from extinct folk cultures of poor people; and almost all Americans listen to the blues, Negro spirituals, and country music, which originated among the Southern poor”(p.22, Pp3). Another social function of poverty is that puts the minds of higher classes at ease, knowing that their status is certain as people feel the need to know where they stand, and the poor serve as a basis of comparison. Among political functions, the poor advocate conventional norm. “Not only does the alleged moral deviancy of the poor reduce the moral pressure on the present political economy to eliminate poverty but socialist alternatives can be made to look quite unattractive if those who will benefit most from them can be described as lazy, spendthrift, dishonest and promiscuous”(p.23, Pp4). The author also suggests functional substitutes to poverty, such as paying higher wages to employees doing the “dirty work”, and the professionals who prosper because of the poor could be found alternate means of work. A stated, many functions served by the poor could be eliminated and replaced, but usually at a higher cost to those who flourish because of the existence poverty.
Response/Synthesis: Americans today tend to believe that poverty is an overall horrific thing. What functional socialists do is make you question such judgments, as Grans has done in this article. I believe that our society would function much differently, perhaps worse or perhaps better, if poverty were to cease to exist. I don’t really believe that we can say without experience, what the outcome of such a situation would be. There may be latent functions, or unanticipated positive effects on social order and stability if poverty were eliminated. Deficiency in the lowest class certainly has no constructive result on the poor themselves, so is it ethically correct to condone and want for them to continue these poor quality lives for our own good? I believe it’s survival of the richest in America, and maybe even the world. Maybe society adapts to whatever is thrown at it. If there had never been such a thing as poverty, we would function just perfectly. But since it does exist, a complete turnaround would be a difficult thing to adjust to. Other roles need to be found for badly trained and incompetent professionals serving the poor, because they shouldn’t be serving anyone if they’re lacking the ability to do the jobs they claim they’re able to. Alternatively, on a psychological medium, maybe the idea of poverty is what keeps the entire country from turning into materialistic, selfish people. Of course, those people do already exist, but if poverty were eliminated, would we all be that way? Perhaps the poor keep us realistic and grounded, and aware of our society. If I never saw what could happen to me if I didn’t have the money and things that I do, I might not be as thankful, or I might spend more frivolously and not have a care in the world of what were to happen to me, as may the rest of society.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Smalex Smalman pt. 2
I was smitten. He officially asked me to be his on an exceptionally dark November night, or rather suggested it.
“We should go out.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Well, I’m asking.”
“Okay. Sure.”
I sat in my room gazing at the walls, and forced myself to grasp what I was doing. “Say it,” The trembling voice in my head said to me, “Say it out loud.” Three minutes passed. “Say it!” Two minutes passed. This time, the tone I used wasn’t as secure, but by God was it sure, “I’m setting myself up. He’s going to hurt me.”
“We should go out.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Well, I’m asking.”
“Okay. Sure.”
I sat in my room gazing at the walls, and forced myself to grasp what I was doing. “Say it,” The trembling voice in my head said to me, “Say it out loud.” Three minutes passed. “Say it!” Two minutes passed. This time, the tone I used wasn’t as secure, but by God was it sure, “I’m setting myself up. He’s going to hurt me.”
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
love knows no gender
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/04/07/AR2009040701663.html
they're stuck at the crossroad
buried beneath shame
life is a curse now
love is a game
holy vows turn into civil rights
in a nation that doesn't pick it's fights
holy souls become livid mobs
because shackling "sinners" is their sacred job
a crime it is to love someone
what a twisted world this is
you could never bring them down
for love will always exist
they're stuck at the crossroad
buried beneath shame
life is a curse now
love is a game
holy vows turn into civil rights
in a nation that doesn't pick it's fights
holy souls become livid mobs
because shackling "sinners" is their sacred job
a crime it is to love someone
what a twisted world this is
you could never bring them down
for love will always exist
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
the smalex smalman experience
this weekend i've totally isolated myself. not that that's a bad thing. and not really that i had much of a choice. i did smoke some green out of my cool new one hit wonder cigarette looking thing and listen to records and sat on a pillow on my floor. i don't remember the last time i actually enjoyed staying home for an entire weekend without feeling like a huge loser with no friends. but i studied, i wrote, i cooked, i cleaned. it's been good. and i also decided to do a creative non fiction piece about my ex boyfriend experience. i wasn't so sure, though. it might be damaging to talk about how smitten and in love i was and to bring back all those traumatic experiences. but then i thought, i'm over this. and i've been over it for a while. and in the back of my mind "what better way to make everyone realize who he really is?" so here's an exerpt of what i have so far. enjoy!
The first time I met him I was at my friend Stephen’s house. Stephen had an older sister, Heather, who was even more intimidating than she was beautiful, and needless to say I did my best to avoid her. He was one of Heather’s close friends, and somehow we all ended up hanging out together in their maid’s room, which seemed to be neutral ground to the siblings and their acquaintances. There were no official introductions, which is how most social gatherings go when you’re fifteen. You just watch to see whose head turns when a name is called and then there’s always the awkwardness of knowing when it’s appropriate to call them by their name, since you never formally exchanged them. His best friend pointed out the prominent tattoo between his shoulder blades which spelled out in a beautiful cursive current, Foo Fighters lyrics I recognized that read “If everything could ever feel this real forever, If anything could ever be this good again” and below it, the name of a woman and numbers that I assumed to be birth and death dates.
“Who’s Lori?”
“My mom.”
In his tone there was a trace of longing and a dash of pain that I seemed to have been the only one to take notice of. The first night I met him was also the first night he slept in my bed. Despite whatever his intentions may have been, I stayed a virgin for another two years. The strange thing was, despite the impression I was given, he didn’t even try to kiss me. While I was lying there so eagerly, propped up on one elbow half listening to him speak- which he had been doing for twenty minutes- and half mesmerized by how absolutely beautiful he was, lying on his back staring at the ceiling so entranced in his own story. Flustered and all too eager, I inclined my torso down to him and pressed my lips to his, which were surprised at first and then quickly became comfortable with the shape of mine. My impulsivity astonished me. I’d never been one to make myself vulnerable.
The first time I met him I was at my friend Stephen’s house. Stephen had an older sister, Heather, who was even more intimidating than she was beautiful, and needless to say I did my best to avoid her. He was one of Heather’s close friends, and somehow we all ended up hanging out together in their maid’s room, which seemed to be neutral ground to the siblings and their acquaintances. There were no official introductions, which is how most social gatherings go when you’re fifteen. You just watch to see whose head turns when a name is called and then there’s always the awkwardness of knowing when it’s appropriate to call them by their name, since you never formally exchanged them. His best friend pointed out the prominent tattoo between his shoulder blades which spelled out in a beautiful cursive current, Foo Fighters lyrics I recognized that read “If everything could ever feel this real forever, If anything could ever be this good again” and below it, the name of a woman and numbers that I assumed to be birth and death dates.
“Who’s Lori?”
“My mom.”
In his tone there was a trace of longing and a dash of pain that I seemed to have been the only one to take notice of. The first night I met him was also the first night he slept in my bed. Despite whatever his intentions may have been, I stayed a virgin for another two years. The strange thing was, despite the impression I was given, he didn’t even try to kiss me. While I was lying there so eagerly, propped up on one elbow half listening to him speak- which he had been doing for twenty minutes- and half mesmerized by how absolutely beautiful he was, lying on his back staring at the ceiling so entranced in his own story. Flustered and all too eager, I inclined my torso down to him and pressed my lips to his, which were surprised at first and then quickly became comfortable with the shape of mine. My impulsivity astonished me. I’d never been one to make myself vulnerable.
Friday, August 28, 2009
here i am
i've been too lazy to write in this thing. too many things have happened for me to catch you up. so i'll just start with the here and now. i'm at brookhaven again for this semester and i just started classes on monday. so far it's FANTASTIC. i'm taking creative writing and i'm already in love with it. no math or science probably plays a really big part in me being so excited about school this time around. who knows, maybe after this semester i'll quit this whole nursing business and find my creative core and be a writer. or a journalist. i haven't decided which style i'm more into yet. i'm much more motivated this semester, also. i think it's just that i'm tired of doing nothing all the time. no job, and no school for the majority of the summer really made me feel like a worthless nobody. i could have been volunteering all those months or gotten an internship for tom's shoes. i don't know, i'm just glad to be doing something, and something that i'm interested in. that's all for now.
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