Dear you,
Events piling up. Post-Thanksgiving, I
felt like a witness to everything troubling, standing by and carrying on but
without words. I need to channel my
inner-Artemis, my power goddess of choice. We all do. So it is. Today, I have some words again about my body, my books, my cat,
and my fourth estate, things I imagine Artemis defends.
Begin with the body.
Not specifically my body, but the body female. That Supreme Court decision to let Texas do
their anti-abortion, bounty hunter thing was expected but still shocking. How can something expected shock? We see it
coming and still reel from the blow.
Justice Amy hurts the most. Dear
girl, your declaration about pregnancy not being a burden, that was brutal. Barbaric.
Why am I typing “her body is none of your business” in 2021? Because conservatives are broken in ways I
can’t explain. Don't mess with my body. So it is.
My books. Apparently, literature,
fiction or nonfiction, that irritates parents must be banned. The irritation is caused by the pinch of
truth. In the best books, that pinch
becomes a slap. A good thing for those
who want to be awake and aware and not dumb as hell. The list of selected forbiddens includes Toni
Morrison’s The Bluest Eye (and of course Beloved too). The protagonist, Pecola
Breedlove, lives in a racist Ohio community and prays for blond hair and blue
eyes. The problem for the banners seems to be references
to sexual abuse in the novel. Nice excuse. Their real problem is having to acknowledge
the society they prefer breaks people like Pecola on the daily. Slap, your bleached-out
identity preference is soul-killing. And
then there is Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, a graphic novel (memoir) about the author's father coming out and her own lesbian identity. This was on a high
school reading list (Nevada) and pulled.
Not second grade mind you, high school.
Those readers would have enjoyed the book; many would have been elated to
know someone like them is out there.
Speaking. Can’t have that, can
we? Don't mess with my books. So it is.
My cat. Baby girl has
a lump on her head, right between those gorgeous gold eyes. It has gotten bigger and sometimes
bloody. I have got to get her to the Vet
now, no more procrastination and letting nature take its course. I called a popular animal care group in
Rosemary Beach and booked an appointment.
But overnight, I wavered. They
only do curbside drop off of pets due to Covid protocols. They grab and go
while owners sit in their cars feeling sad and guilty. I get it.
There is a pandemic. But to hell
with that. I am taking her in the
examining room in her little soft carry bag and staying there till the poking,
prodding and whatever-must-be-done is done.
Where can I do this? I did a
little research and found a place right across the county line (I am in Walton,
just to the east is Bay) where I can enter with kitty and never leave her
sight. Even in the examining room. We’re booked to see the doc next week. I am
traveling into deep, deep red territory (even redder than my county) to be with
my cat and ease her fears. And
mine. Is this selfish, careless? Yes, I don’t care. I am triple-vaxxed. I love this creature. I
am not dropping her at anybody’s curb. Don't mess with my animal. So it is.
My fourth estate. Honest
journalism is barely hanging on, at least in TV-land. Last night, during prime time, I watched Liz
Cheney presenting facts about Trump-crowd emails related to the 1/6
insurrection. These were presented as
reasons to charge Mark Meadows, Trump’s chief of staff, with contempt of
congress. My favorite came from Don Jr. He was pleading with Meadows to convince
Daddy to “condemn this sh*t ASAP”. There
were many others, notably from Fox cheerleaders. Even Hannity was begging the madman to shut
it down. I was getting this from MSNBC.
Kind of important news, I would say. I wondered how Fox was covering the Cheney
statement and switched the channel. They
weren’t. No Cheney. No news.
Just dudes blabbing about defunded police and Vice President Harris
(supposedly) trying to gas-up an electric car.
They called her Kamala. Ouch.
Little boys, derisive assholes having a blast not covering the
big political story of the day because they would rather take a shot at two of
their favorite targets, the first female VP and progressive transportation. I suppose they would argue they’re simply
framing issues of the day, see Wiki definition, “The term fourth estate or
fourth power refers to the press and news media both in explicit capacity of
advocacy and implicit ability to frame political issues.” Oh, they are framing all right. Framing and undermining and advocating the
worst. Don't mess with my fourth estate. So it is.
As 2021 winds down in America, women’s bodies are under state-government
control, excellent books are being banned, my cat has a weird lump on her head,
and the fourth estate is fighting for its life, subverted from within.
So it is.
Looking forward to 2022, days away, a new year where I can replace that dour period with happy exclamation points: “So it is!!!" Artemis willing, so it shall be.
#Persist
Joyce
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