Page 4 of thistle. I keep telling myself when I get a break I will sort out the automated comic system I spent days installing months ago, but I used the break making this new page instead.
The last few times the production got stretched across a lengthy period and I developed a hoard of stupid notes about it that I had to figure out for the website posting. If I did that this time I cannot find any, lucky for you! However, as before, I am concerned about the frequency with which the lizard has been appearing without a mouth lately. I intended to show a picture of it without a mouth here and then looked closer and realized it had a mouth in every pertinent frame, and contradicting me is even worse! I had to waste another minute erasing its mouth in the picture I just showed. Typical pitiful lizard move. Additionally:
I will normally not stick up for dumb imps, but how DARE nemitz talk to elpse that way? How can it live with mitself? Notice how its ears went up just for that remark, like it is prouder of itself than usual. nemitz how would you feel if i said to you “scrobbly doodly nemitz?” Why don’t you think about that awhile. If you have a reason why you don’t I have a reason why I don’t want to hear it!
I wish we could all agree to stop acknowledging nemitz, and just pretend it was not there. Perhaps with time it will choose to not be!
I can’t stair it any longer
another picture with stairs, but unlike sacre coward not based on a photograph (if you can tell).
It was initially meant to be a landscape, of a sort, but I drew it so slowly that some discourteous imps moved in and built a city, unfortunately. Yet later some of them boarded the stairs and hopefully will get what they deserve.
I am still not sure if the bird is nearer to the viewer or simply really large in comparison to the scale of its surroundings. Thankfully on my computer screen it is still too small to be a significant threat.
You might be surprised to learn that some people talk to me. There is one person who does it on google plus for some reason, in addition to an unclear number of other people I get updates from whenever they remember they have google plus pages who do not necessarily talk to me. I noticed the update feed seemed to be feeding itself in an unclear order, placing things I saw months ago above things which had been posted more recently. This is done under the pretense of “tailor”ing the experience to meet my desires. Essentially it censors posts which do not get popular enough in favor of stuff that is already popular. An automated system to marginalize unconventional works and people, beyond the marginalizing people already do on their own. Speaking as someone who all evidence indicates is filtered out of existence and systematically ignored on “social media” regularly, I would prefer to not actively engage in that myself. I certainly would not delegate the job to a robot. Facebook does it too, and probably did it first. Google resents anything that controls information badly before it.
Twitter appears to offer a similar function, but I only found out about it via the control panel mechanism that lets me stop it from happening.
I searched for a way to make google+ stop, and I found Auto Aweseome instead.
When did “awesome” come to mean “brandable and roughly adequate?” Condescending advertisers finally killed epic and need another hypey youthful-sounding buzzword to ruin. Certainly they have been trying for at least a year.
Or more like two years
I forgot about this one.
alright it has been happening for a long time! But it subsided for a while.
In fact, I seem to have saved this in 2011. I appreciate google+ for not imposing itself on my experience regularly enough that I realized how much I hated it earlier.
If it can be done automatically it is not an adventure. An adventure should involve the unknown and personal initiative. If somebody else is leading you along, telling you what matters, and what is interesting, that is a tour. And if some robot is just guessing based on largely meaningless figures or nothing at all it is tourash. I saw some bit of between-show filler on one of those cartoon channels showing some barely-drawn figure floating across a landscape pointing out every ostensibly adventurey thing that appeared, as if they were expected, each as stereotyped as possible so that the protagonist could be not surprised by them. And I thought “what rubbish this is, I hope I never see it again.” And then a year later it was called Adventure Time, literally telling you YES ADVENTURE, excitement obtained through taking risks and seeking the unknown HAPPENS AT THIS SCHEDULED PRE-ARRANGED JUNCTURE and everybody liked it and was trying to be derivative of it and its self-aware dot-eyed auto-awesomeness. Bah! Doing things that you expect on time is the OPPOSITE of adventure! Crap’t’n’ Ecoli’s website and its cease-and-desist letter to mine had the tagline “Stand by for adventure!” Adventure is not something that you stand by for! If you are STANDING BY then it is someone else’s adventure!
Everybody on the internet wants to be Napoleon Dynamite except he is more artistically inspired.
I recently heard an advertisement for oatmeal with the slogan “today is going to be awesome.” Oatmeal is NOT awesome! Not even close! And neither are pop tarts! You should not rely on them to impart aweseomness onto you and it is irresponsible for advertisers to advocate such a behavior.
Pop tarts just make me think of playing to the second level of blaster master with the little lava pools that look more like pop tart filling and then having to turn it off to go to school. Blaster Master is likewise pretty bland and school is worse, especially when I have indigestion from eating two pop tarts. I could only get up to level 3 in Blaster Master so having to turn it off early probably fit in with my plans then.
There is, in present circulation, a televisual ad for one of these cereals with some dork eating Froot Loops and pretending to play the demo of Super Mario Brothers, while music as if they were actually playing is dubbed over with an announcer who sounds like he is wearing a neck brace strains out “bring back the awesome.” Froot Loops were NEVER awesome! I just finished saying how non-awesome oatmeal and Pop Tarts were and you found something yet less so. While still not awesome by comparison, they are at least less unimpressive. Froot Loops were just alright, at best. Unless I am mistaken Froot Loops was the big pioneer in spelling the key ingredient’s name wrong on purpose to keep yourself from being legally obligated to use any. But with the “bring back” and the desperate attempt for retro-game approval, these cereals are not being marketed at kids. Not real kids anyway, because this generation’s adults are still children. Children do not desperately pine for “good old days” that were not really all that good. While you’re at it why not “bring back” an 80 pound tv with dials on it, a rotary telephone, chuck your hard disk and chisel a floppy drive in its place, replace all your soft furniture with hard wood and swap your car for a stage coach. Then spend your inheritance playing old video games and eating tiny fossilized doughnuts while your own kids go to work in a coal mine.
With that all said, I am glad to see froot loops and friends finally dropping the pretense that they are food. It is mediocre candy with centrum silver injected into it. Is a double-wide box not enough?
The Kellogg Cereal Company probably saw that most of the ponely audience was 30 year olds, and realized that pandering to real kids was a waste of time when there was another demographic just as fickle and unconcerned for its own wellbeing but with a lot more money to spend on banquet sized stocks of crystalline corn syrup rings. Actual children probably won’t touch the stuff. They probably aren’t allowed to. I know they’d get expelled if they tried to bring it to school. Froot Loops are probably in an offense category with plastic knives by now. But that’s alright, you can eat rainbow dust hoops when you go home, and thanksh to modern innovations such as making the box twice as big, there may even be some left by then.
Here, have a lumpy sack, like something you’d fill a cat litter box with. I admit these are the generic non-kellogg brands, but real Post Cocoa Pebbles are on the shelf. “Real” said with the understanding that being not actual pebbles, their cocoa quoquotient may likewise be called into quequestion. Cocold in here!
In fact I would rather eat fruity pebbles than froot loops, but they ALSO remind me of blaster master!
or worse, jujubes.
As you are no doubt aware, 2014 is the tenth anniversary of the all time smash record setting play Jope and Some Dopes. The script has aged well; the text is just as deep black and the background as pure white as I remember them being ten years ago. I would like to take this opportunity to reflect on some of the Jope-related events and achievements of the past decade.
With that out of the way, I should also acknowledge that 2014 is the 20th anniversary of the planetary disruption of the earth and moon that destroyed civilization and led to the rise of Thundarr the Barbarian 2,000 years later.
So watch out, 1,980 years from now.
Prior to then, I scanned what seems to be the first round of character drawings, including the only known appearance of the one called Kierfo. If you cannot tell which that is, it is probably not important! Likewise you probably do not need to see it bigger by poking it.
More recently, jope evidence could be found on one of those crummy websites that automatically generates pages with prefabricated lies about the actual content, of which there is approximately none. You cannot watch Jope and Some Dopes there or anywhere!
I actually wrote a description for them, but to the shock of nobody, exactly as many real people actually participate in building these pages, so I must assume the “suggest edit” page feeds directly into a metaphorical dumpster without anyone seeing it, which is appropriate at least considering the involvement of dopes. I suppose “Open End Theatre” would technically be the production company, but the production was not at all technical, and if we kept the ends open what audience we had would fall out.
Anyway before I intervened it said GREEGOEP which is equally incorrect (though Michele was generously granted a bonus L). Greegorp is a character portrayed by Quentin Farris, who is the only actor named on the page, so I assume whoever named him put his character’s in the wrong place and deemed it not eccentric enough spelled properly and now it is fact for all time.
Although to be fair, the original cast list was printed in the font “Curlz” and Quentin’s own last name had a misplaced E in it. But we needed to print up about 80 of these less than an hour before the show. I sent my proposed update to that webpage over four years ago! I like to imagine a real human getting it and thinking “hey! Some rabble rouser is trying to steal credit away from GREEGOEP! EDIT REVERTED” I say I imagine that because I believe that one person moderating suggestions is far more than have been spared. With today’s observance I made another attempt at the update so we will see where, if anywhere, that goes, provided one of us remembers to check before 2024.
A google search also revealed erroneous details of the tv spinoff series Jope With Office Dopes that turned out to be a result, again, of a computer thinking it is smarter than people and messing up.
I could not think of a fitting ending for the play, and so it also goes for this entry, therefore I will let the printed, non-computer program give us a proper conclusion:
Also, everybody I worked with on that was great and this website entry should not be interpreted as bitterness unless absolutely necessary.
this neighborhood already went to hell, and tomorrow I get to find out what comes after that.
even the foreclosed crumbling rat-packed house that no people have lived in for years has freshly mowed grass, and has consistently since May. I did not always have time to personally inspect it but courteously the deed-doer made certain I could hear the process. Who is paying for it? Who is it supposed to impress when it is partnered with a house that looks like somebody got murdered in it, then came back to life, climbed onto the roof and jumped off?
Yes, I took the previous picture on a sunnier day, but that does not mean the light does not turn grey and condemnatory whenever the house is looked at directly.
There is DUCT TAPE on the chimney! My house does not even have a duct taped chimney, and I am someone with a toilet on my back porch.
AND I am at a point where I do not even realize having a toilet on my deck is out of the ordinary so I had to go outside just now to take the picture in the dark with a flash instead of during the daytime when I took the other pictures, and I am saying the neighboring house is a horrid heap that is going to bring down my splendid heap’s value!
Perhaps making an offering to our patron saint will improve my fortunes.
Hey, do you want to read about voting? Neither do I! You can read it first.
This is less likely to shame me into voting than it is to make me go to their office a throw a brick through the window. It is worse news that some company I have never heard of has a record of my votes than the content of the record.
But this came addressed to my sister, Saginaw. I was sent a weird call where the speaker reminded me that I told them, who I have never heard of, that I was going to drive to the polling location early in the morning to cast my vote, even though I voted last time at 5:30pm, cannot drive legally and never told anybody anything. They found me at a Madison Connecticut telephone number but would not let me vote in Madison because my non-driver id card still says New Haven on it. I am sure you care. I appreciate it.
Hey just checkin’ in. Ya votin’? Hope you’re votin’. Heard you weren’t votin’. Ya know that’s below average? Not sayin’ it’s bad but… just sayin’. It’s bad. Okay gotta go. Probably not goin’.
For my older brother Cochise, who has not lived here in thirteen years, I got to meet a woman wearing sunglasses and ludicrously bright lipstick at my front door. In retrospect I imagine the exchange might have gone like this:
hi we’re working to build support for ted kennedy jr. can we count on your support this november?
who is we? I just see you here
we are the committee to elect ted kennedy junior and we are hoping we can count on your support at the polls this november. We’re just passing out literature right now
literature? is he an author?
no Ted Kennedy Junior is running for State Senate and hopes that-
oh another kennedy
yes he is the son of the late ted kennedy
so he is qualified based on that?
no he is qualified because etc etc etc as you can read in the literature
i have just remembered i can’t read
that’s OK! Ted Kennedy Jr has worked tirelessly for the rights of the disabled can we depend on your support?
He needs my disabled support to fight for the disabled?
the people’s voice matters and we can’t do it without you
why aren’t I running, then?
this is america. if you believe in yourself you can do anything. Have you considered offering us your support?
but in actuality I went to special education for eight years and the Connecticut Department of Developmental Services for more years afterward, and I dealt with staff who talked like that so frequently I cannot even imagine a hypothetical exchange in which they did not have some condescending phony-optimistic reply for everything. When you work for a political campaign you are trained that no potential voter is too dumb. You cannot risk interpreting the dopiest question on the planet as a joke, because somebody who asks a stupid question sincerely is more likely to believe their vote counts and to feel special when some creep from a campaign pesters them at home, whereas somebody who is so disgusted by the process as to deliberately abuse campaign workers is likely a lost cause.
after 16 years of being moderately aware of the political situation I have observed that at every election, the two controlling parties and their news-slaves put forth the story about how high the “stakes” are and who stands to gain/lose “control” of this or that house. But regardless of who wins, the same stuff doesn’t get done. My optimism was artificially propped up by the people i was aware of in 2008 and nothing changed after that either, except that I stopped being able to distinguish my “friends” online from the banner ads that I had only just found a reliable way of blocking. So how are there people two-to-three times my age who still act like this is an urgent situation year after year? It just starts to look like the two sides are useless but at odds on purpose so that people focus on the bickering re:nonsense and ignore the horrid rubbish both ends agree on, like getting into undeclared wars, using robots to kill in wars that are even undeclareder, supporting allies who kill indiscriminately with and without robots so long as those allies promote American commercial interests, sometimes within confinement of a wall that they themselves built, monitoring citizens, fric-a-fracking, propping up obsolete industries, outsourcing the ones that are still profitable, and on and oh. What do people criticize President Barack Obama for? Wearing a light brown suit. Calling some jackass celebrity a jackass. Having a middle name. Taking away Our Guns despite not having done a ding dang thing to that end.
That should do it. The S here looks too much like a 5, though, making this wall into a buzzfeed headline. 5 TOP WARS you don’t own but should!
And meanwhile, the news media, our actual governing body… if you want to complain about them rushing to declare a winner before all votes have been counted, they declared Hillary Clinton the next US president the instant Obama was inaugurated, if that late. It doesn’t matter who wins, so we might as well announce it eight years in advance. Although that’s no reason we can’t keep tittering excitedly about it for the next 96 months.
Hey look this potential candidate that is not part of our pre-written outline has passion on an issue! Let’s laugh at it until it cries. We need to eliminate anyone with actual emotions or the potential for shame from the herd. Need more smirking dead-eyed married couples with inherited nonpinions STAT. Get pictures of the kids, too. And a dog that they didn’t have prior to entering politics, GREAT. This is just irrelevant enough to be crucial. No kids, no dog, no service.
And the crummy debates are always closely monitored. you get 30 seconds to answer, “let’s move to the next question.” NO! If they have more to say, let them say it, and let them address each other. Are we electing a governor or a game show host? We probably know more about Louie Anderson’s background than that of Tom Foley, the challenger to Connecticut governor Dan Malloy. And when one brings up a point that your preplanned questions do not ask about, for beet’s sake ask that question. “My opponent is saying things about me that just aren’t true.” Things like what? Oops no time. And neither protests because neither really cares beyond saying their scripted lines.
Look at these yahoos. These guys are chum buddies. One of them HAS to be in charge from now on. I don’t believe for T seconds that anything major is going to improve based on one being elected. We just choose what we want to get worse slower.
They both own boats and devised a scheme to make boat ownership a bigger campaign issue than actual campaign issues (the campaign issues being “taxes.” They “mix it up” by sometimes talking about taxes first and boats second). They probably own paintings of boats. They probably own paintings of their own boats, which are then displayed on the boats. No boat, no ugly white baseball cap, no service.
Even if I had never seen them before I would feel like I had seen them before.
It is true, the taxes in Connecticut are nasty. But I do not trust this guy to reduce them in a way that will provide a net benefit. He wants to be in charge of a whole state (admittedly, a tiny one) and all he has is “I have a plan to cut taxes and create jobs.” Oh so? This is literally Mitt Romney’s platform from two years ago. He could have lost the republican primary election to a parrot trained to say “tax cuts” and “job creators” if the target voters were not likely to perceive a red, yellow and green candidate as gay or Mexican*.
(those are actually the colors of several countries in South America but everything south of real “America” is Mexico to the sort of person receptive to this pitch)
Even with Zob on his side it didn’t work.
can you believe it, somebody drawing this pathetic X over the donkey silhouette on a cheap printout at an institution of supposedly higher learning didn’t clinch the deal either.
the most effective anti-democrat promotion I saw was something they made themselves. Vote or DIE. Or maybe this means Vote AND die.
Every time: One oaf says “I’m going to lower taxes and protect your guns” and the other says “we’re going to FUND services and protect the environment or or whatever you want me to do, I swear.” They promise impossible outcomes, so then at the next election whichever side lost then can claim the winner LIED. Candidate advertisements, when they give information at all, are the equivalent of saying to a child “I have a plan to push back bedtimes, make the bath cuts permanent and give you candy for dinner.” There are consequences to these actions and only an undeveloped fickle mind would fall for it. Not only do people fall for it, they fall for it over and over again, despite rising evidence of the consequences. They fall for it as a matter of personal principle and are more motivated to vote and squawk about it through falling for it than people who realize it is rubbish, because the opposition’s broken magic tricks are less impressive and no more varied. “I’m going to protect the environment, control guns, hold the banks accountable…” Or in other words “If I elected I pledge to give you a bigger bedroom, make dogs stop barking at you and drive you to school instead of making you take the bus.” More responsible sounding but unlikely to be delivered.
HEY did ya vote yet? Hope so! Heard ya didn’t. Say could ya help me? I think I’m stuck.
You cannot save the economy just by cutting taxes and you cannot save the world just by raising taxes and throwing money at issues. This year the incrumbent democrab Malloy did not even bother to say what he was going to do or already did. He just pointed at his opponent and said “this guy is a scumbag.” Or rather some other voice said “this guy is a scumbag” and then the actual candidate said “I’m me and I approved this message.” It would be nice to believe that our governor was busy actually governing and had no time to contribute to messages beyond saying that he approved one, but his use of the “I approved this message” tag shows what an unthinking imbecile he is. Show me the poll that shows voters demand that their candidates say those exact words. Nobody does. Nobody cares. Nobody notices when they do not hear it. Even candidators who say their OWN messages have to remind me that they approve what they just said. Candidates in USAmerica elections are legally required to include proof that their campaign authorized its own ads, and for good reason, but not to use that exact wording. They just do it because they have no will or desire to do anything but what the person from their party before them did. I have been conditioned through my upbringing and preference in media influences to illogically believe democrats are usually right, and have an unshakable subconscious belief in that, just as I have a subconscious illogical belief that Jesus Herbert Walker Christ really doesn’t want people mentioning him, and that he knows, out of many billions, who is doing so and how often. If that is the case he can send me a vain name-taker report card.
Jon Stewart, who I hated in 2000 and came to appreciate, was also with me through the past gang of elections. Even when the people he likes get hired, the same nothing goes on occurring. How can he still believe in this donkey vs elephant, red vs blue rubbish? He was the lone “late night funnyman” who seemed to legitimately care about the state of this country, and not just go with its flow for fresh joke setups.
And you can say “but his JOB is to tell jokes!” but he acts like it isn’t! Unless somebody challenges him, in which event he says “ey I’m on Comedy Central! The same network as Battlebots! I don’t know nuttin’.” Battlebots was canceled in 2002, to give you an idea how long Stewart has had that excuse.
And you can say “we talk about blue vs red because no other colors get to this stage!” But we don’t let them! This isn’t Double Dare. The world doesn’t start with just two opposing sides (and I doubt the geriatrics in congress would be able to break enough water balloons in 60 seconds to fill a cup past the red line).
The presence of independent candidates in minor elections creates a false impression that these opportunities are out there and not taken. These independents are exceptions, and in races that are monitored by national media, exceptions are caught early and are the first ones to go.
Halten Sie! We interrupt your regular programming to bring you an important update: 6. Why we couldn’t have crammed this six into a smaller part of the screen without interrupting or, if this 6’s contract requires it be fullscreen, shown you it during the preceding hour of scheduled, election-soaked news programming is oops here’s another update:
We’ve interrupted the only show on broadcast television you actually watch with this big old map on our Connecticut affiliate even though Connecticut isn’t actually important enough to be colored on our map! Now back to your common rubbish.
Must… get to polls! Must return… to polls! Must… replenish… my strength…
A view from some stairs leading toward Sacre Couer, an old church on a hill in Paris. Paris has a great number of old churches and monuments and art museums that want to be treated like churches, and I went to a bunch, and was told how great they were, and isn’t this inspiring and aren’t you lucky to be here. In recognition of that I drew the street instead.
As for the imp near the lower edge, you cannot claim that this thing does not deserve to have something bad happen to it. I shall lay out the facts:
It is meeply
it is yellow
it has really stupid looking ears
it has no toes, just feet
it also has no nose.
We cannot just ALLOW that. You can be certain it had a great big smile just moments before it realized that bowling ball was coming. It was probably stomping up the stairs like it owned the place (it does not own the place). If nothing else, my drawing attention to this matter justifies the upload. That creature should really have known better than to be meeply in a place like that.
The weather always gets strange this time of year. I hear that it bears some similarity to Umby Ridge but I cannot figure out what.
Pointless lizard thing. Even with my pointless lizard history this stands out as especially lacking in purpose. It finally flew away when the blimp showed up, which is not to say there is no reason to throw lightning bolts at it.
Stereotyped pirate being hit by a tea bag where an eye patch might go. Initial testing revealed that I had to explain what this was and that I could not find a concise way of doing so.
Regular creepy lipton tea figure
Later made slightly more creaturely to seem less out of place to people who do not recognize the figure, or in general, and also be possibly more creepy.
intially these two were beside each other. I considered trying to make one of the buildings a ship or some sort of nautical-themed inn but then that seemed like it would distract from the tea focus.
top hat snake observing a yellow snake
pink unbothered bird of unspecified type in the position that the yellow snake was moved to. I also need to explain the snake’s significance, but it is easier than explaining the pirate, and my pictures often have dumb snakes in them anyway so this one does not necessarily need to have significance.
Panicked noseless meep running from a spoon. Eventually I added a pathetic mouse that did not quite succeed in running from a spoon, but did succeed in having a nose.
Blimp that I could not figure out how to make relevant. I lately considered that it could have an advertisement for coffee on it and be attracting several lightning bolts, but now the area is too cramped. Unlikes these website entries, I cannot just keep adding in junk forever. Which seems good, but unfortunately I still try. Gosh I hope that if I change my mind and go implement that idea I just mentioned I do not forget to remove this part about how I was not going to do it.
Why is it the mopey things that get stuck up here for longer than a week?
I was not sure whether to have the 5th panel being laugh sincerely, which works better, or sigh dismissively, which is more realistic. This way, however, is ambiguous, which leads to the other party uncertain if it had or had not been understood, and if not, if this topic should be tried again, and in the anxiety over the uncertainty, decide not to, which is yet more realistic.
I did have a few jubilant women of apparently similar age and appearance, unrelated to themselves or me, proclaim at me “you’re gonna be an uncle!” And first of all, if THEY know that, then I know that. Once the unit was out, I was alerted by an actual relation in the form of “you’re an uncle.” Not “your sister has given birth at last” or even “the danged thing is out,” since I knew whose it was. For whatever reason people want to present it in the form of me turning into some gendered word and permanently affixing it to the front of my name, even though had I been dead this process would have carried on unhindered. They mean it is a favor to me, surely, and there is no way to tell them I am discomforted by it without making it a bigger problem than it ought to be. Congratulating me is also upsetting, considering that I actually make things through my own effort that the same people routinely have no interest in or interest in having interest in. Things better than THIS one that you are reading, I mean!
This congratulation means as much as the Big Why supermarket congratulating me on successfully using my free Big Why card while paying for my purchases and receiving one of their weird plastic fake coins for it.
Or at&t uverse congratulating me on being found by their obnoxious automated email and its unnecessary creepy video with a robot voice saying my given legal name that I only gave it because it is legally my name, but not what I want anyone calling me if I have a choice. I bet it would call me UNCLE if it knew and could see two years into the future since undoubtedly it has ways of knowing. It would be easier and less discomforting, for me, to just be allowed to READ the instructions, but I am not allowed to argue with the robot. Human beings are thus going to have to deal with me.
I have probably said so before, but maybe not, since I have not convinced myself I am entitled to harbor the feeling, and in any event this can be taken as my official declaration: I do not consider myself, I am not emotionally comfortable with the idea of
me being a “man.” I am a gender-indecisive being. I was born as one thing and did not like it, but I did not want to be the “opposite” either.
It would not be convincing and would require bizarre over-compensatory effort, that would likely result in some people unenthusiastically humoring my effort while others would simply be cruel.
Birdo isn’t even real, and lacks descriptive biology entirely, and still nobody accepts its choice. What chance would I have? Having a perpetually OH NO shaped mouth is fine, but don’t you dare pretend you never had a phallus that you never had.
My body barely works as it is; I do not want to mess with it and risk screwing up and having constant pain roundabout something I would prefer to pretend was not there at all. Though I feel like staying what I started as is lying to myself, trying to be the other would be lying to everyone else. I just want it not to matter. But oh how it insists on mattering.
Male is a statement that makes me uncomfortable. Female is a statement that would make others uncomfortable.
Ordinarily, I can privately not-acknowledge it, and keep me from making it anyone else’s hassle. This week’s matter forces that out and has presented some difficulty. I realize that my problem is not the primary concern of the pregnancy, but it is a concern I will have to deal with alone and without talking through entirely, since none of the exacerbators see it as anything but imaginary, unsatisfiable attention-grabbing. And I start to believe it IS because I always watch for that stuff in others, and am inclined to doubt myself. And thus I hate myself for a feeling that nonetheless occurs, and then hate myself for that.
But my sister Salgorpsponce is fine. The fluid and the tubes are out. There are middle-aged women waiting in line to empathize with her. I can imagine feeling worn out by all the attention. Raising a child is never easy or worry-free, but there is precedent for it. S does not need this website entry to be about that. I am therefore free to talk about my own weird issue.
Of the three siblings, I have been perhaps closest to this one. I knew the two brothers longer, but they became more distant, as they went and lived with/off others, developing disparate extreme political viewpoints, at one point refusing the speak to one another despite both independently concluding that a majority of international heads of state and subordinates should be brought before firing squads (and shot at). They are both comfortable calling themselves and me uncle. They do not know me well enough to have any idea that would irk me. Or perhaps they did but thought I would “get over it.” I am not an over-getter of it. Usually I get around things or go off in another direction. I can survive on private denial, if I may be left to it.
Should I show this to them? I would hate for anyone to read this entry FIRST. I almost hate for anyone to read this at all.
It is one thing to be called by a name. A name is usually more abstract than a word. It may be a man’s name, commonly, but I do not know men with the name. I will not call myself by the name, and will officially change it as soon as I become decisive enough for that, but I became accustomed to hearing it before I developed this specific gendereal issue, so said aloud by someone else (whom I have met already and who is not a condescending robot), it is mostly just a noise by this point. As long as I do not have to say it myself, I can live with it. “Uncle,” however, is very specific, gender-wise. It is like “mister” but more likely to occur outside of scumbagly “business” situations where I can hate the using party for additional reasons, such as including my middle initial, sending me credit card offers or requiring me to use a password that I cannot possibly remember, locking me out of my own account and then acting like that is done as a favor to me, and I ought to be grateful. People who were comfortable calling me an abstract name my whole life want now to put some man title in front of it. And people who only just met me want to do it also. People who barely know me are introducing me with man words to people I have never met at all.
And yet “uncle” is non-specific outside of the gender respect. Rather than a specific person, it is a man out of many men. One of the earlier people I spoke of wanted to use the vague man word in substitution of my name entirely. We do not have a gender-vague word for a parent’s sibling that does not sound like it came from a naive wishy-washy internet forum, because they do, and me insisting on one’s use would be just as dismissable to the people I am having difficulty with as asking for no word. I found advocacy of “pibling,” ostensibly a contraction of “parent’s sibling,” sounds like a little rainbow colored candy that tastes like Mr. Pibb soda. I certainly do not want anybody calling me Mr. Pibling. I might as well try and have people call me skittle or nerd, and I will at least deserve one of them.
It would be the same if we invented our own word, but I would rather have no word.
I know once the baby is in the house there will be other issues, and I will not be at risk of the baby calling me the word for some time, and by that point outside parties should be less excited about tossing it in where it does not belong, and I can ask the one person who matters to not call me that. And then I reckon I have until the age of 7 or so before the child realizes I am a complete loser who needs accommodations at every stage to keep from crumbling into a weeping heap, and starts using the word deliberately to annoy me. I was terrible to my own mother’s weird brother, but he fortunately never had an issue with the binary tree. Or if he did, it did not keep him from functioning.
The creators were able to procreate because they accepted what they were and acted on mutually functional biological impulses. What are my impulses? I have an impulse to create imps but it is not biological, hopefully.
I have been asked: “how’s it feel to be an uncle?” It does not feel like anything! Should it? I am worried at worst and indifferent at best. I suspect the asker did not really care about my answer, and thought it would be interpreted as an upgraded form of “how are you?,” the base level question askers do not want answers to. For them to fulfill a request to stop would be a challenge, since it seems to occur as a thoughtless reflex, just as my negative reaction does, though I am fated to dwell on my reflex afterward.
Clearly I am more affected by adults trying to re-frame my life in the context of this other person’s baby than anything the actual baby did in less than a week. I will admit that I find this baby less ugly than the “adorable” babies I am exposed to in trash media, but this one is usually asleep, with mouth shut and nothing leaking out. This baby would not be in a gross-out cartoon (id est: ANY cartoon) or used to sell products. I am glad to know someone with integrity.
‘Crotch-chops’ and ‘why’ do not mix.