A Rational Animal

. . . at Debwe.

Image copyright Bill Watterson

Most of the house has been thoroughly cleaned and smudged.  We’ve been smudged.  And with the new year comes a new focus.

I have to admit that 2007 was, if nothing else, educational, shall we say.  It disabused me rather thoroughly of all those quaint notions I once had about American ideals.  You know, like, oh, say, the Constitution, the rule of law . . . those kinds of "ideals."

Yes, it does seem quaint now, doesn’t it?  Not to say stupidly, criminally, dangerously naive. 

Well, my eyes have been opened.

You know, it’s not the partisanship that drives good people from the political process.  It’s the lack of it.  It’s the sycophantic slavishness to polls and pundits; the utter bankruptcy of any principle save the retaining of one’s hold on a taxpayer-funded sinecure; the pussified spinelessness that fears "being criticized" - criticized! - by a war criminal whose approval ratings are in the crapper.  It’s the abject failure of any of our putative "leaders" to get what real life is like for real people, as opposed to those who, like each of them, live inside their self-created and self-sustaining bubble of hallucinogenic bullshit.

And now it’s driven me from the political process.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’ll still vote.  (It’s the one thing I have left, although I have no confidence that they won’t find away to strip that from me, too.)  And I’ll still write about the evils of our present "government."  And make no mistake:  It is truly evil.  But for someone who spent her teens and adult life as a political activist (and consultant, and speechwriter, and party officer), I think it’s indicative of how thoroughly poisoned the well is that I now want no part of that.  I haven’t been top a party meeting in months, and I doubt that I’ll go back.  If/when I do build my client list back up again someday, I doubt that I’ll take on any more political candidates - not even for dogcatcher.  Watching the Pelosi/Reid/Emanuel Show, and the media artifice that supposedly passes for the current "presidential" campaign, I realize that there’s no room for me here - there’s nothing I can do.  The system has become so inherntly corrupted that it has become evil in its most banal form.  American politics 2008 has become the one and only example of the truth of what was once only an excuse for a war crime:  We need to destroy the Village in order to save it.  (Yes, "Village," with a capital "V" - the metaphorical home of Teh Villagers, whose senses have been permanently blinded by their existence in The Bubble.)

I literally cannot stand the thought of what the ensuing weeks and months will bring:  The inanities, the stupidities, the atrocities of Teh Villagers during a modern "presidential" campaign.  So, for the most part, I’m opting out.

So what am I doing in the meantime?

Well, that’s one upside to the Destitution Trifecta of illness, unemployment, and poverty:  As long as it costs no money, I can pretty much do what I want.  Which, in my case, means two things.

First, I can write.  All the yeyars I’ve wanted to devote to writing - fiction, poetry, essays, you name it - and I never had time, because I was always working.  Now - well, not so much.  So I’m trying to write every single day.  (Yes, new laptop at last - it was a birthday present from the BF.) 

Second, this year has put me in the (to me) odd position of healing.  For others, I mean.  In recent years, I’ve done some traditional Native healing, mostly for pets, but occasionally for people (and in one notable instance, a wild animal).  The opportunities keep knocking on my door, so apparently I’m supposed to keep answering it.  For some time, I’ve had a small apothecary of herbs and natural substances and a small library of references.  We’ve decided that, since I’ve apparently been given the ability to do some of this on a small scale, maybe it’s time to start working on it in earnest.  So one of my first investments, when I have some change in my pockets again, is going to be a panoply of the necessary supplies.  I now live in an area where you can buy just about any homeopathic or alternative product, but - predictably - I don’t like using others’ products.  When I make them myself, I know exactly what’s in them, and how much; and they get the added benefit of being produced in the old traditional ways, complete with ceremonial blessings.  So occasionally, you may see some references here to these kinds of remedies.

Sometimes, when life completely upends itself and you have no control over it, you just have to withdraw from it for a while and regroup.  I’ve done the withdrawing over the last six months, and begun the regrouping.  Now we’re trying to find a way to contribute to the health and well-being of society without endorsing or participating in our current corrupt system.  

It’s gonna be a lot of work.

For now, miigwech (thank you) to all of you who still drop by.  I know I owe responses to some of you.  And from the two-leggeds and four-leggeds chez ARA:

Happy New Year! 

Image copyright Bill Watterson 

2008, I mean.

Oh, good.

. . .  

I suppose I owe everyone an explanation. 

. . .

2007 was, in many ways, the worst year i can remember.  On a practical level, nothing’s really changed, but at least it’s over.

Around the time of my father’s death, my life fell apart.  In the same week, I lost all my savings, my laptop quit working, and, of course, there was his death.  Following, I might add, a years’-long catastrophic illness, during which I, four years ago, chucked my home, friends, career, lover, life, in order to move 2,000 miles across the country to live in my parents’ tiny house and help take care of him. I was at a crucial point in my career, but I gave it up.  I was buying a house, but I gave it up.  I was not well-off, but at least I had an income, but I gave it up.  And I took an incredible amount of shit from one particular sibling - just how much I had no idea until after her death last year, when the lies all came out.

I spent months without a working computer.   Not only no blogging, but no work.  Not that it mattered, since my biggest institutional client jerked me around for four months waiting for my alleged contract and then ultimately skipped on me.  No, there’s no legal recourse.  It doesn’t matter; I wouldn’t work for that person now for all of Halliburton’s billions.

Mom’s health is worse.  The stress of dealing with Dad; the aftermath of last year’s stroke; and the never-ending money worries (Dad’s death halved her Social Security).  My own health has gotten so bad that I couldn’t work for someone else if I tried; there’s not a moment, waking or sleeping, that I’m not in pain.  No, disability isn’t an option; ask anyone with autoimmune diseases who’s tried to fight that particular battle.

You know, I’ve been poor before.  In fact, I’ve been poor most of my life, both as a child and as an adult.  But I’ve never been so completely broke.  Savings and checking?  Both in deficits, literally.  No matter how broke I’ve been, at least before I’ve had some source of income, however small.  At least then it was simply a matter of constant juggling, always trying to decide which bill to pay this month and which to leave until next time.

Now, there’s nothing.  And I’ve never been so terrified in my life.  Every single day, every single minute.  Because I have to worry about Mom, too.  And it’s just me.  I’m it.

In less than two years, we’ve had three deaths in the family, as well as that of a close family friend.  We’ve had repeated illnesses, injuries, hospitalizations (my parents, not me).  No, no one had insurance - no health insurance, no life insurance.  We’re still paying for all the fallout from my sister’s death last year (which was really a years’-long suicide, given her diabetes and her drinking).  No, no insurance, no will, no assets.  Just a mountain of debt.

And those weren’t to be the only losses. 

On September 30, we had to send one of the dogs (one of the BF’s dogs, to be exact) on her final journey.  We found out, much too late, that due to certain parties’ negligence with regard to medical treatment, her poor body was riddled with tumors.  On her last day, she had a stroke, and we no longer had a choice.   

And I’ve had one more loss - one that still cuts too close to the bone for me to write about it. 

I haven’t blogged because I couldn’t.  There’ve been times when I’ve literally wanted to give up - completely.  I’ve never felt like that before.  But 2007 left me trapped.  Absent winning the lottery (yeah, like I can afford a ticket anyway), there’s no way out. 

So next time a politician - particularly a Rethug one, but any of the whores, frankly - starts talking about responsibility, and ownership societies, and how great the economy is, or any of that happy horseshit, remember that it’s all crap.  Too many of us are one step away from losing everything.  Some of us have already lost everything.  I suppose the good news about that is that at this point, there’s nowhere else to go but up.

This will, I hope, be the only post like this you ever see here.  And the only reason it’s here now is to explain my six-month absence from polite society.

The good news is that at least I have place to live.  I can’t pay my bills, but at the moment, I don’t have to worry about housing or food.

The other good news is that it’s 2008.  Completely arbitrary as far as choosing a date for a new year, but it’s what we’ve got, so I’ll take it.  And beginning with the next post, you’ll see a shift in certain topics.

For now, apologies to any of you who’ve been stuck reading this.  This is my farewell to 2007, and its entire toxic atmosphere.  I’m done.

No looking back.