Death of Captain America

 

 

“Those who desire to give up freedom in order to gain security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one.” —Benjamin Franklin

The above image is probably one of the most shocking ones in my personal comic book history. Not for the gore, or lack thereof considering, but for the blow to a beloved American icon.  It is uncomfortable looking at Captain America being taken out by a sniper.  I suppose it needs to be.  Sure, Steve Rogers is just a comic book character, but his alter ego Captain America means so much more.  The character represents the principles for which our country stands: Freedom and justice for all.  (Yes, I know I’m a bit late.  I just happen to buy my comics slowly.)

I put the quote in because it seems to fit with the general mood of the picture.   That quote is something we all need to keep in mind because it’s true.  Let’s keep our freedom.  Security is only an illusion and transitory at best.

I feel so much, like my skin is a-tingle. I feel alive. I love it. I have low times, rare, but they are there. Mostly, I’m in a good mood. Sometimes, I just feel so blessed and so happy, I want to explode.

I hope that this “high” isn’t a sign of something worse, lurking under the surface, of some inherited monster. Bi-polar and schizophrenia. Apparently mental illnesses/disorders run in my mother’s family.

Sometimes I wonder if I am sick. Then I realize that by thinking that, I’m not. Crazy people generally don’t worry if they’re crazy. I’m sane, but slightly neurotic. I have Trichotillomania, social anxiety disorder, agoraphobia, PSTD…. So yeah, I’m differently abled when it comes to socializing and being normal. (And my former psychatrist didn’t think I had it. That was a relief.)

By being open and talking about what is bothering me, I find that I’m not so alone and that I can help other people accept their differences. Sharing my experiences isn’t entirely altruistic of me, as I gain a sense of community and fellowship. In other words, I get validation and acceptance. What I’ve found is that it’s ok to have some neuroses, it’s ok to feel lost and alone as long as you realize there are other people wanting to help you, that you don’t have to suffer in silence. That you can make a change in your life for the positive, that you don’t have to remain shackled to the past.

That you (and I) deserve love as much as anyone else. We deserve life and everything good that comes along with it. Bad times just serve to make us stronger and better people.

You’re the One that I Want (ooo oo ooooo)

So I got tickets…free…to go see Grease on Saturday.   No problemo!  Free is a great price.  Apparently, my supervisor couldn’t go, so….she offered them and I grabbed them.  I’ve never been…and I will have to thank her on Monday; it was a real treat for me.  And for the roomie, since I had two tickets.

But, as soon as I stepped on the second balcony, I experienced vertigo. I’ve experienced that my whole life when it comes to great heights…which is why I’m afraid of heights. Dizziness, sensation of movement…the whole shebang.  As soon as I sat down, it went away.  By went away, I mean it was a lot better, though still present.  But…I loved the play. The music, the singing, the prancing dancing…the bright colors and lights—all combined in a spectacle that lifted my spirits.  My first play…and I loved it.  I’m glad my first time was with Grease. 

However, I prefer the movie because it is meatier than the play….plus it has a cool race in it.  I was kind of puzzled when some of the words in the movie were NOT in the play.  Go censorship.  Not.  That bothers me more than I thought it would, since I believe not everything has to be for the children.  

It’s not the words being taken out as much as it is the altering of someone’s creative thought.  That disturbs me.  I once asked someone not to make rape jokes—sure, the jokes tasteless, but it was wrong of me to do that. That was wrong because I was asking someone to alter their thinking to suit my sensibilities.

So….please put the “words” back in Grease…and tell the adults to leave the children at home.

Whoo Hooo!!

This is official…I have the tickets…I am going to South Carolina!  In July.  I know. It’s going to be miserable for my delicate system.  Humidity and I are not friends.  And in July….woooo boy! I’m going to have to be careful.  I burn easily too.

Why am I going down there?  My WoW sister paid for my ticket to come and see her.  (I love Southern hospitality!)  I CAN NOT FRICKIN’ WAIT.  I am going to have so much fun…we’re going to go to Washington D.C—see the Smithsonian….go to some monuments….eat and drink and just let our feet take us where they will…

It’s funny how my WoW sis means more to me than my real sister.  I’ve known her for 2 ½ years, we email and call each other constantly….every other day… yeah, we talk THAT much.  So I trust that she won’t get me killed or anything.

I’ll bring her something pretty.  Me!  No, I’ll bring her a real hostess gift.  

Randi’s Rants

Brought to you by Mountain Dew….a proud sponsor of V for Valkyrie!

Please, if you are an adult, use the word probably. Do Not Use: prolly. It makes you sound like an idiot. A teenage idiot. Act your age and take the time to say (and spell for that matter) PROBABLY. If you don’t know how to spell it, get a dictionary—read it, love it, engage in a love affair with wordplay. You might think “prolly” sounds cute but it isn’t.

Drivers, I don’t care if you pass me. Just don’t slow down as soon as you get over into my lane—unless I can see a good reason for it. Such as getting a Mr. Impatient Pants off your own hiney. The primal side of me will see that as an act of passive-aggressiveness to make yourself feel as you’re better than someone else. Mainly me.

If you slow down so much that I have to pass you, please do not play vehicular leapfrog with me. In my mind, I’ll be imagining that I am playing Crash Bandicoot racing with you….and giving you a bowling ball bomb, making you bounce harmlessly to the side of the road. Then laugh maniacally as I drive past you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 People who deny me my beloved Mountain Dew. ‘Nuff said. As an aside, don’t try to sneak up on me after I’ve had a 20 oz bottle. I tend to shriek like a banshee. I have a set of pipes that you wouldn’t believe. I really can scream.

This post was cheerfully powered by Mountain Dew. Can you tell? Huh? Huh? I’m full of ‘tude and caffeine…uh …uh here comes the crash…

Just another Sunday

I like Garth Ennis’s Punisher. The problem is, too many other people like him too. And not necessarily for the same reasons. A lot of guys seem to like him because he is “a badass”, blowing crap up, eviscerating some really evil dudes.

Those fine enlightened gentlemen are missing the point. The Punisher is, if anything other than a poster boy for nihilism, a tragic figure crippled by grief and post traumatic stress. He is constantly tormented by what he had lost and by vicious circle of violence he trapped himself in. His guilt stems from the fact that he couldn’t save his family, he had all these survival and military skills, but they still died. Like his men in ‘Nam—-but that’s an entirely different post for another day. I don’t want to sound entirely like a Punisher freak.

The character is quite compelling to me. I can understand the desire for vengeance. I’ve wished I had the guts to make sure a certain person would not go around hurting others. (See the About tab in my header if you’re curious.) But I’m not that kind of insane. I’m more of a neurotic soul. Neurotic ain’t crazy….yet.

He represents, in a nutshell, just how dehumanizing war and violence are on an individual level, the slow erosion of the soul and sanity.

Well, that’s all for now. I’m off to enjoy the beautiful weather….

Oregon is sure in a lot of financial trouble.   We have twelve percent of our population out of work—percentage wise, we are the Numero Uno in the country in terms of unemployment   We are extremely in the red–four billion dollars!–and hunger is rampant here.  And by hunger, I don’t mean absolute starvation; I’m talking about nutrition deficiency.

Coming from a household that relies partially on hand-outs from unemployment, (the roommate only works 2ish days a week and the state will help compensate her for the rest of the week), I can tell you it’s hard. Hard.

Spaghetti sauce (the cheap can kind) dumped unceremoniously in rice have made up our meals. I call it What a Rice Surprise—I tend to put in whatever I have to supplement it and give it some dietary value. Nuked potatoes and steamed veggies are another household favorite.  I am so missing the taste of meat.  My gentle reader(s) would probably be shocked to find out just how bare our cupboards are.

So yeah, that’s why I haven’t been blogging as often as I’d like. Economically, the situation has been seriously depressed, which can turn to creative malaise….

I’m actually thinking about downsizing my cable/internet/phone services. Good ol’ Comcast is jacking up the prices again, and I need food more than the LOGO or Bravo stations.  I have also thought about selling my Bowen Statues….but that would KILL me.  Especially since I’d have to sell them for less than I bought them for.  (I have the full size statues of Storm, Gambit and Dark Phoenix.  Busts? Rogue, Sabertooth, Mystique, Psylocke, Angel, Nightcrawler a Sentinel, and Storm.) 

No. I won’t be getting rid of them. Not my “babies”.

I think I’ll start doing more comparison shopping and clipping out more coupons.   Maybe I’ll start monitoring the electricity usage closely and being more frugal–NOT miserly—with our resources.  That’s a start, right?

What I Love

Is the feel of soft skin
Sliding over mine
The way you smile
And the way you give and take
You inspire me to be the best
All that I can be
You love me for me
You love my flaws
You accept my strengths
I need you
More than I thought I would
It scares me, this needing
But I’ll be ok
because I want to be

Love isn’t about giving up
It’s about fighting and having faith.
Love is about fierceness
About having the power to endure
I can wait for you.

I love you
Echoes of you fill me
Until you return

Woody Harrelson mistook a photographer for a zombie?  How weird.   As sure as I am about the upcoming zombie apocalypse,  I doubt it’s happening any time soon.  Even if it does, I’m pretty sure it will come from China.  Pretty sure = 99% positive.  

Sounds like someone was on a illicit drug.  No wait, he was staying in character for a movie. Zombieland.  My kinda flick.  I love zombies. I love land.  A winning combination for me, no?

My life is taking so many interesting turns. I don’t want it to ever end.  I want to see what’s on the other side. I want to kiss someone hard enough to take away their breath.

Every day that I live is a blessing. I don’t ever want to take it for granted.  Every person that I talk to, I’m grateful for.  Even if it’s on Facebook. 

Live strong!

Noooooooo!

Enjoy!  It’s funny!