Leadership.

A rant, copied and pasted from Face book after reading this article: http://pol.moveon.org/waronwomen/

Ladies and gentlemen, these are the people who we elect as our LEADERS! They want to rob from widows and orphans and line their own pockets. It's STUPID. I don't care about how you feel about a free market place. I don't care how you feel about guns. I don't care how you feel about god. I do care when people like my mother, who raised me essentially on her own, and other hard working women are seen as being less important than FARM ANIMALS! 

      As for the Christians in the audience riddle me this. Isn't self determination and free will a part of the Christian faith? Doesn't forcing your rules on to others invalidate those rules? People must be allowed to make their own physical and spiritual choices. Where would you be in your mythos if god had killed David before he could bed Bathsheba or Destroyed Judas before he could betray Christ? No where! Choices must be made and people must be free to make those choices if your faith is to be validated. I am not saying that I consider anything a sin, mind you, that isn't for me to judge, but if you're so confident people are doing wrong, let them make that choices and let your god sort them out. Or are you afraid that, unlike yourselves, he might show a little mercy? 


   The republican attacks against Women, the LGBT movement, and the poor in this country are nothing more than sheer voyeurism. They only wish to watch people suffer while they revel in their control over the masses. They are not faithful servants of any god, they are not qualified to be our leaders. They are voyeurs who need human misery to make them feel alive. The thing is that we, the American people, choose these "leaders" and it's time to stop making such bad decisions. We need to start being a strong people and shake off these abusive fools instead of a co-dependent country that keeps saying, "They only abuse us because they love us...really..." Wake up USA.

About Borrowing Heroes.

I come from an odd place in this. I am, I would hope, a very accepting person. I try to allow an individual's character to determine my attitude toward them rather than their looks or their race. Sometimes I fail in this regard, but I do try. I also follow a creed where each culture should be considered on their own merits, and the mores and traditions of that culture not looked down upon simply because the person taking the culture in comes from another culture. I am a lover of myths and legends and a believer in the power of great stories and characters to have a transformative effect on a person's life or perceptions. Today however, I am feeling a bit bigoted. I am unreasonably annoyed at something, something I'd normally just let pass or slide off my back, but with the stresses of moving and the fact that my children have already managed to put crayon on the walls of my new apartment when we haven't been there a full week yet has made this particular molehill into a mountain of huffiness. Not anger, mind you, just mean-spirited grouchy annoyance.

Those of you who are sensitive, unwilling to read what is more than likely a rationalization for something psychologically and socially wrong with me that I need to have adjusted, or looking for outright racism, should probably jump off here. Everyone else, welcome to my confession. Flames go in the comment boxes below.

I'm miffed at Dora the Explorer for making Merlin Spanish. Yes, Merlin the Magician, Myrddin Wyllt or Myrddin Emrys to some. Adviser to King Arthur and generally, outside of Odin/Wotan the prototypical Old Man Wizard figure. A WELSH wizard figure. My last name, Myers, is Welsh in Origin, and speaks of an Infusion of Welsh blood into my Cherokee ancestors at some point. The entire Arthurian cycle, something that I have always been fascinated by, has its roots in Wales. Merlin, for all his popularity is a Welsh figure, and as someone who believes that the stories of other cultures should be preserved and appreciated for being a part of the culture from whence they came it made me a little upset to see him suddenly transformed into a Spanish figure.

I have nothing against Spanish or Latino people. They have a rich culture and a deep and interesting history. I do not look at them and sneer or feel as if I am better than them. There is no hatred here. I am not upset at the show for making Merlin specifically Spanish. I am upset at them for changing his race at all. I am upset at them for saying, "All these wonderful stories, all of these tales from which this unique character sprung, which are a product of a unique and rich culture. They're garbage. We need a wizard character and we're going to take this one and because the focus of the show is teaching children Spanish he is going to be Spanish as well."

Now, imagine for a moment, that there is a show that focuses on teaching kids say, German, or Japanese. Imagine they want a great warrior for an episode they are writing and decided to go with El Cid. El Cid, or Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar was a great warrior of Castilian descent and continues to have stories written about him to this day. He was and will remain undeniably Spanish in origin. Imagine though, if this show made him into a German Mercenary, or a Samurai, or for a more contemporary example, if they made Shaggy Roberts and Scooby-Doo into Nigerian Princes. That would piss me off just as much as Dora making Merlin Spanish, again, not because of the way they are transforming them, but because they are transforming them at all.

There is not much that I can do about this, of course. Nickelodeon is not likely to change the Editorial Mandates on Dora the Explorer any time soon and starting a petition or something would not only be pointless, but may attract the type of person that I do try to avoid, racists who would sign something of that nature simply because they hate rather than because they have a legitimate bee in their bonnet about adulterating another culture's stories and heroes. So I will take this opportunity to complain before getting back to my homework. Again, if you are offended by my opinions here, I apologize that you feel that way. This article was not written with any kind of racial hatred in mind. I just happen to have an opinion and felt like flapping my lips about it on line. Feel free to comment, but also know that if the comment you leave is meant specifically to be hurtful to me or hateful to another person, race, religion or creed, it will be removed. It's my blog and I will do with it as I may. Post Script: Yes, I am aware that it may be somewhat hypocritical of me to have such a high admiration for both Saber and Saber Nero from Fate/ Stay Night and Fate/ Extra respectively. However, despite changing their genders the over all narratives of the games do not change their stories or cultures. (( Arturia still deals with Lancelot and Guinevere's betrayal, dies at the battle of Camlan and generally lives the tales. Nero uses Roman terms, speaks about her reign and gives a relatively factual account of Rome of Nero's time and the end of Nero's reign.)) I can handle a small change, especially if it adds another dimension to the character or story, otherwise I would not have been able to read and enjoy Mallory, T.H. White and Steinbeck, but the wholesale invalidation of the culture the story comes from due to editorial mandate still burns my muffins a bit.

My Depression

I am currently in the midst of one of my lows. Those areas in my life where thinks become too much to deal with and I either have to break or BREAK. Before we begin here there are a few things that the reader must understand. I am always depressed, the medications help me to take the edge off and be able to function, but the  doldrums are constant and persistent. This is more than just being sad or emo, this is a constant, heavy weight on my mind, heart, and soul and even at my happiest, it is always there. Most times it's controlled, most times I can fight it back and put on the face of a normal person. Sometimes I can't. There are no particular triggers, no words or phrases that drop me into these holes, it isn't like reminders of the accident which cause my flashbacks to it. Sometimes it's different words, or phrases, or smells or sights or sounds, sometimes they repeat, sometimes they don't. Sometimes it's nothing at all. It does happen and it is real. I am not seeking attention, I am not faking, or lying or exaggerating. That isn't the point of this. Even this post isn't the cry for attention it seems to be, rather it stands as a ritual of naming, and attempt to bring things under my control by naming them and making them known instead of unknown with power over me.
      It usually happens like this. I notice the fact that I'm more grouchy or dragging tail. Invariably if I'm snapping at people or stupidly lazy (which is different from my most efficient intelligent laziness or my usual apathetic laziness.) that it's going to be a dark day. If I were a werewolf, this would be the bleeding pentagram on my hand. Sometimes I can fight this off, sometimes I can shake the doldrums or snap myself out of the grouchiness. When I catch it, I try my hardest, but sometimes, like today, I don't catch it in time. Then comes the eye for detail. The tendency of my brain to find each and every failing I have, am currently, or will be involved in and magnify it in obsessively loving detail. This is molehill mountainism  in it's largest form. Every mistake is magnified, every move, every breath sure to offend someone. I am trapped in between paranoia and self-loathing to the point where everything just seems to be hopeless. It seems that fighting anymore would just be a waste of time and energy. I have to fight it though. Laura helps me through a lot, but sometimes I feel like I'm abusing her, taking advantage of her kindness and burning her out.  MY depression is killing her and making her life miserable. I figure that if I weren't such a fuck-up that she could have a much happier life. The kids need watching, the house needs cleaning, my schoolwork needs doing. All of these demand my time and attention. Sometimes that's enough to drown out the noise, sometimes it makes it even worse. Next comes the hatred. Hatred of others, sure, anger, envy, even my friends are sometimes a part of it. I don't mean it, and I don't really HATE them, I just feel so angry and annoyed that I want to scream and the worst part is, I know there's no reason to be. I know that what I'm feeling is terrible and unjustified and mean and stupid. I cannot help feeling it though. This brings on the true loathing. The loathing of myself. The reminder that no matter how much I try to hide it or shove it down, THIS is who I really am, petty, vindictive, hateful, mean. I can deny it all I want, deep down I am ugly and terrible. At least this is how I feel. Sometimes I can talk myself out of it, sometimes I can reason with myself and point out things that prove that I am not that way. (Please don't think of it as vanity, it has saved my life before.) Sometimes the words ring hollow.
           If I can't stop myself by this point this is when the sadness hits. The real, true, bone-numbing, life sucking sadness. The kind of sadness that feels like someone is pushing a shovel through your sternum or gleefully staring down at you through a pillow. The kind of complete and total worthlessness that causes real physical pain, the kind of pain that death is preferable to. Sometimes it really does seem that way. Fate was with me both times in my life when I attempted to poison myself. When I was alone and in the quiet and able to even consider the ultimate selfish act of suicide. I told no-one (Until much later) and called no attention to it. I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want anyone to care. I just wanted the pain, the horrible, horrible emotional pain to go away. Thankfully I suck at poisoning so I woke with little more than a screaming head-ache and the kind of vomiting that makes you want to go back in time and punch your mother in the stomach, the point is I have tried before, I do know what it is like, and by the grace of the God and the Goddess I survived. I've wanted to again since then, but now I have too many people around me, too many people who would for reasons I can't fathom, be saddened by my absence from the world. I don't think I ever will kill myself, but that doesn't mean I don't think about it, and unless I really trust you or you are a medical professional, you will never know when I do. I do not do this to seek attention or win people over. I hate that I am this weak and think of harming or destroying myself. Others, unless they can help me, do not need to be involved. Don't take this as an insult, or an indication that I think less of you. That isn't the case, I just believe that if it is to be done it should be done quickly and quietly and without the involvement of others.  I won't, like I said, too many people would be hurt and would live worse lives dealing with it if I did than makes the effort worth the while. I refuse to make my kids suffer like that, but that doesn't mean that sometimes I'd really like to.  The sadness is terrible and it builds and builds and builds, it gnaws, it grinds and it hangs like a stone around my neck. It eventually gets to a point where I can't do anything but break. Sometimes in a small way, sometimes I just shake and whisper to myself until I get back under control. Sometimes in a large way where I cry and shake and hurt and want to hurt more, where I can barely keep my legs or stand to be looked at. Times like tonight when I had to run like a coward and weep like a child into my blanket until I can get myself back under control and start the fight again.  Sometimes I win, Sometimes I lose, but it always hurts. I can live with the hurt though, I can control it and sometimes I can do things like this to put it into perspective and make it seem more the size it actually is instead of the size it seems to be. Sometimes, I can feel better, even if it is easier not to.
    Before I go, please allow me to say that the symptoms I experience aren't always the same and don't always flow the way I listed them in the article. I only listed them in that way to emphasize the way the experience grows and swells and recedes.  I don't know if anyone will read this, a part of me, even if I am about to post this basically on the most colorful and brightest light pole in the history of the devices hopes that no one will. If you do however, I'd like you to take one thing away with you. There is always SOMEONE, somewhere who has felt something similar. You are not alone, you are not pathetic, and you are not really weak. It may feel like it, but the fact that you're still here, reading this alone is a testament to your strength and strength of character.  If you've gone through similar things, then now you know I have too. If your issues take different paths, I can guarantee that someone, somewhere has a similar story to tell. In the most positive way possible ( Being paranoid I can think of several very negative ways to be with others)  each of us somewhere has someone who knows what it is like, in this instance, to be us.  This fact helps me sometimes, it is useful to know.
    So this is it. In the best way I can describe it, the way I feel when I'm at my worst. Typing it out and naming it has helped and I hope that reading this, if it ever does get read, will help others. Good night dear readers. I think I'm going to take a nap to get rid of this exhaustion and try again tomorrow. Wish me luck.
-Cameron

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Geekery

Edited together from Facebook posts.
On Zecora and the Weather:
 Zecora, as far as I have been able to tell is from a nation other than Equestria where Zebras are the dominant species. Her presence was the first sign that Equestria is only a nation on the pony world and not the world itself. Though it may be a Superpower.


The Everfree forest adopts what to us would be natural weather patterns in the like due to the influence of Nightmare Moon, it's implied that it was the seat of her initial rebellion against Celestia and that Nightmare Moon was somehow able to break Celestia's power over it. However that may not be a good thing as the weather always seems to be overcast and gloomy and dangerous aberrations such as Chimeras and Cockatrice are bred there.


 Equestria may be the only nation on the Pony world where Celestia holds power over the weather and thus over everything.
That having been said, holy smokes am I a geek.


When asked for my justification that the Pony World might be post Apocalyptic, my response was as follows:
Simple. Mankind screwed up damaged the planet and ruined the environment nearly beyond repair resulting in mutations both dangerous, such as Discord, Dragons, Gorgons and Chimeras dire, and benevolent, such as the ponies who have adapted to a degree where they have a measure of direct control of their environment. The Alicorns are more than likely an artificial offshoot of such designed specifically to keep the specific pony populations in check and discourage them from abusing their direct manipulation of their environment in the same way as the last intelligent species (mankind) abused their indirect manipulation of such.