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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

The Bachmann Diaries: I Knew It!










Dear Diary,

I figured out why Ron Paul is so obsessed with gold. Okay, so he's short (smaller than ME and I'm adorably petite), he talks with an accent, he's sort of shriveled and he looks like a gnome. Ron Paul is a LEPRECHAUN! I bet he has pots of gold buried under the floorboards of his house! I'm serious about this and plan to introduce a bill to look into Ron Paul's birth certificate. I bet he was born in Ireland. Or Iceland. I can't remember where leprechauns are from. It's the same place as Saint Patrick and those snakes, I know that.

I watched "Thelma and Louise", and if Marcus hadn't explained things, I would have sworn he wanted to kill me. The ending I watched has Thelma and Louise driving off a CLIFF. Marcus told me he had never seen the American version, only the German version, and in that one, Thelma and Louise go camping in the Grand Canyon and Thelma decides to run for public office. THAT makes a lot more sense, because there is no way Marcus would ever want me dead. He loves highlighting my hair and fighting HOMOS with me!

Well, the Republican candidates are Mitt Romney, Newt Gingrich, Rick Santorum and the leprechaun. You know, I really think Rick Santorum would be a good president. Obviously, not the Ruler of Godlandia, because no one loves Jesus more than I do (He told me that a few nights ago when He came to visit), but at least Rick hates HOMOS and abortion loving liberals almost as much as I do. And he wants to blow up Iran, which is super important.

I don't understand why people didn't want me to be Ruler of Godlandia. I hate taxes, I hate HOMOS, I love rich people and I want to get rid of the Department of Education. Schools teach evolution, which everyone knows is totally false, schools teach about other countries, which is stupid because America is the only country that matters and schools have minorities. People tell me I'm a hypocrite because our 849 foster girls went to school, but I didn't have a choice. If we wanted the money, we had to follow the rules. And we really wanted the money. Do people think we took in a ton of barfing teenagers for nothing?

Diary, ever since I was forced by the liberal IDIOTS to quit the campaign, my nighttime excursions have gotten a lot more strange. This morning, I woke up in the car. I was wearing my Lanz nightgown, one sealskin slipper (baby Harp seals make the most beautiful slippers) and I was holding a spatula in one hand and a handgun in the other. So far, no one has mentioned anything weird in the neighborhood, but what in the world was I doing?? And where did I get the handgun? My AR-15 wouldn't fit in the car, I know that, but I don't remember buying a .44 Magnum. It's super pretty though.

Well, I think I'll grab a quick nap before Marcus and I interview boat captains for our trip to Cuba. The FACT that Obummer is totally ignoring the Hezbollah missile bases in Cuba is just one more reason he is a horrible president. Well, Marcus and I will handle it. Marcus is flying back from San Francisco today-another client, Stefan, called yesterday, sobbing. Poor Marcus! He is doing such amazing work with all these Abercrombie and Fitch models!

2016 will be the Year of Godlandia, I just know it!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo Michele

© 2012 Erin Nanasi

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Drivel, hate and other annoyances











Thanks to a pulled muscle in my shoulder, I am home while my husband and son are tubing on a small mountain/hill/slope. I gave the child a tube of protective skin balm, which I am guessing will be left in the car, and the husband is not wearing winter boots. I'm getting ready to bake blueberry muffins and a loaf of banana bread, but I read something interesting and wanted to muse about it on the blog.

A recent study posits that intelligence has a direct link to racism and conservatism. In other words, if you're stupid, you're a conservative bigot. I would like to suggest we replace the word "stupid" with the word "ignorant." I know many conservatives who aren't stupid, but they are ignorant. It's not the same thing. Ignorance has to do with lack of knowledge, stupidity has to do with a fundamental lack of intelligence.

If little Johnny gets an F on a Social Studies test because his grandfather is a member of the White Aryan Race movement and is teaching Johnny about mud people, coons, spics, etc., odds are, Johnny will suck at ANY test that contains information different from what he is learning at home. That's ignorance. That's the current GOP, version 2.0.

There are stupid people everywhere, but ignorance, many times, is a choice. People choose not to learn the truth and get their news from Fox or Alex Jones or Glenn Beck or Rush Limbaugh. All of whom, by the way, are incredibly ignorant people. Ron Paul supporters strike me as incredibly ignorant people, both in their blind allegiance to Ron Paul and their immediate lashing out at anyone who dares to question the belief system of Paul.

Now, there are ignorant liberals. The NDAA is a perfect example of this. A spammer edited a video in which Carl Levin was speaking and BAM, President Obama is the second GW Bush, he's evil incarnate, no one should vote, we need to primary him. And when the truth was revealed by many, MANY writers, bloggers and at least one journalist (maybe just the one), liberals still believed Glenn Greenwald over the truth. Ignorance.

We no longer have journalists, for the most part, we have pundits, both on the left and the right. Martin Bashir is a journalist, and I have the utmost respect for him. It could just be the accent, though. He has lovely eyes, he really sorry, what? Oh. Cenk Uygur is one of the few pundits on the "left" I ignore. He spearheaded the NDAA bullshit, and never apologized for his misinformation. He is a supporter of Ron Paul, and was for a long time, a Republican. I also ignore Michael Moore, and unfortunately, Keith Olbermann. KO revealed that he has never voted, and I thought my head would explode. If you don't vote, you have no say in anything, in my opinion.

The pundits I ignore on the right comprise too vast a list to post here, but trust me, they number in the hundreds. I should say that the one person on the right who really makes my skin crawl is Sean Hannity. He's a smarmy snake oil salesman, filled with hate and racism. Here's a guy who was friends with Hal Turner (Google him) and lied about it. When it became obvious that Hannity would have to address the Turner issue, he said he didn't really know him, Hannity had only had him on his radio program. Hal Turner was truly surprised by Sean Hannity's statement and said so from prison. Yes, prison. He was there for trying to solicit a hit on a federal judge.

Do I think Sean Hannity is stupid? Nope. I think he's ignorant, and like the rest of the right, has placed a big old flag on top of Ignorant Mountain and said "We claim this mountain in the name of America." We are becoming an increasingly ignorant nation. We get our news from unsubstantiated sources, we only read the headlines of articles and base our comments on that headline, we refuse to see the good that President Obama has accomplished because where's the fun in that? Watching the president succeed is a lot less exciting than lying and leading people to believe he is actually failing and will lose this election to one of the true ignoramuses running for the Republican nomination. And so, people on the left and the right compose meaningless drivel about how much of a failure President Obama is, and we should all just stop voting or vote for Ron Paul.

I was "unfriended" today by a Facebook acquaintance who berated me for sharing a new website created by two friends of mine. This website, Hate Site Central, strives to shine a light on the hate and racism coming out of the right, and also highlights the fight against this hate. The acquaintance was miffed because it seemed that the website focused on the hate without promoting the good things we do. I guess she meant to combat the hatred on the right, but she didn't make that clear. I've been shining a light into this cesspool for over a year, and no one ever accused me of not highlighting the battle against racism and hatred. In fact, simply by bringing it to the forefront, we're battling it. Evil lurks in the darkness, but dies in the light of truth. (I wrote that. Not bad, huh?)

Anyway, time to bake. I'm a guest on The Mad Women of Politics Anonymous this evening. [http://www.blogtalkradio.com/forwardblitz/2012/01/09/the-mad-women-of-politics-anonymous], 6-8 CST. Tune in, I sound like a Midwestern Smurf.

© Erin Nanasi 2012

Thursday, January 26, 2012

I Breathe












I breathe because I can
I breathe because I am alive
After walking with
Death
Wars were fought
Battles won and lost
And yet
I breathe
A little ragged
Around the edges
A thread of sanity
Dangles from my soul
But I breathe
I have wept
I have screamed and punched
And raged against the world
Scarred and damaged
I breathe
Sing
Dance
Laugh
Rejoice
I breathe

© Erin Nanasi 2012

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Bachmann Diaries: I'll Settle for Congress









Dear Diary,

We had to cut our vacation short so I could come back to Minnesota and speak at a pro-life rally in St. Paul. Marcus was so upset-he said he had big plans that would have changed his life for the better! I feel SO guilty, but I have to put babies ahead of everything. He'll be fine. When we got home, he had a message from one of his clients, Alejandro, who desperately needed Marcus to fly to Miami and help him through a crisis.

I decided to run for Congress again. Being a senator would be fun, but it's so much work. In Congress, I really only have to show up once or twice a month, and I can work much harder here in Minnesota getting child labor laws overturned and making abortion illegal as a congresswoman. My most important goal for the next year is making it illegal to be a HOMO in Minnesota. I mean, seriously, it's a bunch of old Norwegians-they'll go along with this.

Obummer gave his State of the Union speech last night. It was awful. All he wants to do is take money away from rich people! Oh, and he wants to spend defense money on bridges and poor people. How un-American! We need all our defense money to blow up Iran! He is so stupid. Mitch Daniels gave a good rebuttal, but Steve could have done a much better job. I wrote a few things down, in case they asked me to do it, but they didn't. I don't know why. I did a great job the last time.

I was going to bring up the FACT that he is not American, that he is a MUSLIM, that he hates babies and loves HOMOS. He wants to spend more of our money on technology. Why? Everything I own is from China, and I love China, except for that whole they kill babies and eat them part. We should be a lot more like China.

Mr. Franken must be very happy that I am not taking his Senate seat. I could have, really easily, but Marcus and I had a chat and decided I am a better congresswoman. Besides, since I won't have to be in Washington very much, Dr. Duke and I can go to Iran and blow up our embassy there.

Marcus and I still have not gone to Cuba to check out those missile silos built by Hezbollah. I hope we can get a team together soon, because Spring Break in Miami is right around the corner, and I would hate Hezbollah to blow up all those college students because Obummer is too busy saving poor people to notice TERRORISTS shooting missiles at Florida.

I found "Thelma and Louise" at Blockbuster. I think I'll watch it tonight while Marcus is out of town. Super curious why he is so obsessed with the ending of this movie, and why he was so upset when we turned the rental car back in. He kept crying and saying "I just needed to get to the Grand Canyon, and everything would have been fine!" Hopefully, the movie will help me understand!

Remember, Diary, we always have 2016! I have a good feeling about the next presidential election! Godlandia will be real, I just know it.

Love-Michele xoxoxoxoxo

© Erin Nanasi 2012

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Out of Pain comes Humor











Comedians are interesting people. If you ask a comedian why they went into comedy, many times you get the same answer: humor was a response to tragedy.

People tell me I'm funny. I think I'm odd, with a very strange sense of humor. I am very sarcastic and snarky, I know that. The root of the word sarcasm is from the Greek word "sarkasmos", meaning to tear flesh, gnash the teeth, speak bitterly. Tear flesh. Sarcasm is meant to hurt. Snark is a combination of the words "snide" and "remark." I am a snide, sarcastic bitch, and I know this. I'm okay with it.

Most people know I suffered from borderline personality disorder for 20 years of my life. BPD is marked by self destructive behavior, self mutilation, eating disorders, the inability to maintain relationships and bouts of anger coupled with boundary issues. Yes, it's a fun ride. What most people don't know is why. Some do, a few who grew up with me, my husband, my dad. It's not something I talk about, simply because there's no point. Shit happened, I got sick, more shit happened, I got better.

But, out of this horror came a resilience I didn't know I had. I became strong and empathetic, I learned to love others and I learned to love myself. And I learned that I didn't have to live in sadness. I could be funny. At first, I was funny to mask the terrible anguish inside. I believed that if I could sell it, no one would notice I was crazy. That actually worked; when I was living in Florida, I was the life of the party. Even getting pregnant at the age of 20 and giving my child up for adoption couldn't stop me. I was fabulous, as far as most were concerned, but on the inside I was a nightmare.

Then I had my son, and I told myself it stops here. I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me, I just knew that when other people had problems, they didn't take apart a Daisy razor and hack themselves with it. I found a therapist who one day, read me the DSM criteria for Borderline Personality. I cried for half an hour. It had a name, it had symptoms, it had a cure. I found a therapist in Vermont who only treated people with BPD, I learned about dialectic therapy, I worked the program and in five long years, I was better. My mom's death and everything that went with it (the journals, the photos, the notebook) set me back a few steps, but I pulled through. And here I am.

I'm a stay at home mom who suddenly has thousands of people reading my writing, 800 Facebook friends, and, I guess, fans. I also have self esteem you can fit in a thimble, which is why I read my own posts way too often. I want to see if people are commenting, because I don't believe any of this is actually happening. And in the middle of all that, all the doubt, all the questioning, is this bizarre sense of humor. It's my armor, and I wear it well.

Maybe, MAYBE, 20 people in the whole world know exactly who I am and what I've survived. Those people walked down roads with me that were littered with boulders and shadows and demons and corpses and they are still here. I walked a few roads with them as well, so we love one another, and we trust one another. I married one of those 20 people, and I'm damn glad I did. Jim understands that my humor comes from a place no one should have spent their childhood and young adulthood. No one.

I wrote about Joe Paterno today, then a friend of mine on Facebook (not one of my 20, but she really could be) shared a little of her past with me. I cried, a little, not out of pity but out of genuine affection. And a little shame.

I forgave the person who molested me, I forgave the person who raped me, and I even (a few people are going to be surprised by this) forgave the man who got me pregnant and lied about it. Hell, I forgave my high school "friend" who, while I was in ICU recovering from an overdose, went to school and told all my other friends, individually, that I had told him THEY were the reason I tried to kill myself. I forgave my mom, which was the hardest person to forgive. But for some reason, I wouldn't forgive Joe Paterno.

I thought about that. When my mom made her choices, no one knew how to deal with it. My dad had no clue, this was so far off his "normal radar" that he stuttered and stammered through 3 years of hell, then whisked us off to Minnesota. Maybe, just maybe, Joe Paterno had no clue what to do. Maybe Jerry Sandusky's behavior was so far off his radar that he stuttered and stammered and screwed up not because he was evil but because he was human. I'm not saying he is a hero, but understand I don't think very many people are heroes in the actual sense of the word. The 9/11 responders are heroes, pediatric oncologists are heroes, my therapist is a hero, Captain Steve Hill and his husband Josh are heroes. A football coach? Nah, that's silly.

No matter what, forgiveness is the key to happiness. You cannot live with a weight tied around your soul, and hate is a heavy burden. Do I hold Joe Paterno partially responsible for what happened at Penn State? Yes, and I think he did as well. My molester never took responsibility for what he did to me, and neither did my rapist. My mom eventually did and out of that grew an amazing friendship. I forgave the people who tried to destroy me, and every time I write a Bachmann Diary, or interview my cat, or make someone laugh until they cry, I thank the people who hurt me the most. If it were not for those experiences, I would be dull as dishwater and twice as cold.

"Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." Steel Magnolias. (mine, too)

Friday, January 20, 2012

The Bachmann Diaries: I Love His Little Villages!








Dear Diary,

I am so upset. My favorite artist in the world, Thomas Kinkade, was arrested for drunk driving. I guess his 2006 Mercedes, you know why would someone as famous and rich as Thomas is drive a 6 year old car? We buy a new Lexus every 3 years, whether we need to or not. You have to keep up! Oh, so, he didn't have a license plate on the front of his car, and when he got pulled over, the police officer thought he seemed drunk. He's an artist! He had probably been cleaning his brushes with something that SMELLED like alcohol, but I know Thomas would never drink. Just like I would never drink. All those beverages Marcus gave me were for my health.

Our road trip is going well, I guess. Right now we're in Phoenix, Arizona. I went to Scottsdale yesterday for shopping and to pray, but Marcus wasn't feeling well, so he stayed at the hotel. He misses his book club, so he asked the front desk where he could find one here, and they found one for him! It's at a private club called Amsterdam, and Marcus is there now. He told me not to wait up-he wants me to get my beauty sleep. He's such an amazing person!

One of Rick Santorum's staff sent out an email that said women shouldn't be involved with politics because it's against God's will. I used to think that, until I was 13 and Jesus started visiting me. Jesus told me I was special and that God had plans for me. Funny, Marcus has been saying that a lot on this trip, too. I guess my men know better than I do. Al Franken's time is UP. I will win his senate seat, and begin taking Minnesota back to a time when it was white, straight and kids worked in the paper mills up in Duluth. It's time to get rid of all these socialist art galleries and build a creation museum where The Guthrie is. Who wants to see liberal plays when they can learn about history?

Rick Perry dropped out, and so did some tan guy I didn't know was running. Rick Perry endorsed Newt Gingrich. Can you imagine if Newt Gingrich becomes president? President Lizard. HAHAHAHAHAHA! He's so pasty and when he laughs, he looks like a serial killer. He's creepy. I would have been so good for Godlandia, but now some idiot who thinks HOMOS are okay will be elected, or GOD FORBID, Obummer will get 4 more years to turn us into France. I really don't understand why more people didn't like me. Marcus says it's because I'm narrow minded, and he LOVES that about me, but some people aren't as spiritually focused as we are. Plus, he says I can do more damage as a senator. He means that in a "damage for Jesus" kind of way. I think.

Marcus says Monday is Thelma and Louise day! He rented a baby blue Thunderbird for the road trip. Normally when we rent a car, we don't buy any of that extra insurance (it's a commie plot), but this time, Marcus bought everything. He said it's just in case something happens, then laughed. I think he needed this vacation even more than I did!

I bought some diamond earrings in Scottsdale. The nice man who sold them said they are "conflict diamonds", and when I asked what that meant, he told me that proceeds go to the Lord's Resistance Army, a group of devout Christians in Africa. I LOVE that! I'm hoping to buy more on the way back-they're super pretty and not very expensive!

Well I'm pooped! I'm going to have some special tea Marcus bought for me that tastes a lot like vodka, but Marcus says it's a Russian herb called barishnakov or something, then sleepy time!

xoxoxox Senator Michele Bachmann.

© 2012 Erin Nanasi

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Penne Pasta, Broccoli, Bacon and Chicken with Alfredo Sauce













Serves 4-6

Penne pasta
1-2 large chicken breasts, cubed
5 slices of bacon
2 cups fresh broccoli (not frozen)
1 cup heavy cream
1 stick of butter (unsalted)
1 1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese

Seasoning for chicken:
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
1-2 tsp Italian seasoning (basil, thyme, oregano)

Seasoning for sauce:
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp salt
1/2-1 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp nutmeg

Bring salted water to a rolling boil, and cook penne pasta until al dente. Typically, a large handful of pasta is equal to one serving. Drain and set aside without rinsing. Saute chicken in olive oil and seasonings until cooked through and lightly browned. Set aside. Combine cream and butter in large heavy sided sauce pan over low heat, stirring constantly. Add seasoning and cheese, again stirring to mix well. Turn heat as low as possible and stir periodically. In a large saute pan, crisp bacon. When cooked, add the broccoli, and the chicken with the olive oil it was cooked in. When broccoli is cooked through and bright green, add pasta, turning to coat and mix thoroughly. Finally, add the sauce, again stirring and mixing well, making sure the sauce covers everything evenly. Spoon into pasta bowls and serve.

The next day, call your cardiologist.

Words Facebook Refuses to Recognize








As a writer, I love to use the English language, and often, I use it well. Okay, most of the time. Sundays? Shut up. However, over the past year, I have merged and melded words that Facebook refuses to acknowledge as words. I have also used other people’s merged and melded words, and Facebook hates them as well. Which is funny since Microsoft Word doesn’t recognize Facebook as a word. Ha.

Here are words that Facebook needs to immediately STOP spellchecking with that stupid red line.

1) Asshat. It’s a perfect representation of someone who is so ignorant and so insanely closed minded that they wear their ass as a hat.

2) Douchemonkey. No, I have no flipping idea what this means, but it looks great after Rick Perry’s name. It could be represented with a photo of a baboon holding a box of Summer’s Eve, smiling.

3) TeaPublican. DUH. I mean, come on. It’s obvious.

4) McSticky Pants. I use this in combination with the word, Frothy: Frothy McSticky Pants. It’s what I often call Rick Santorum.

5) Teahadist. I didn’t coin this, but I love it. It represents the fundamental Christians who scream about Muslims while encouraging a holy war of their own. I love this word. Did I mention that I love this word?

6) Fundies. Shorter version of fundamentalists. For times you really don’t want to type all those letters.

7) Dominionist. NO ONE recognizes this word, and it’s starting to piss me off. Facebook redlines it, Microsoft Word redlines it, Word Press redlines it. This makes it much harder for writers to draw attention to the dangers of Dominionism when people keep saying “Dude, you know that’s not a word right?”

8) Shitforbrains. Yes, it’s one word. It’s Newt Gingrich’s middle name. Newt “Shitforbrains” Gingrich. If you split it up, it looks silly. As opposed to how it looks oh never mind.

9) Fuckall. I know, it’s foul and nasty and…um…foul, but when all else fails, and I’ve had it up to HERE arguing with some TeaPublican Dominionist asshat, it’s how I end the conversation.

10) Paulbot. Look, we’ve all got at least one, right? A Ron Paul supporter who thinks it’s “rad” that Paul wants to legalize pot, end wars and destroy the Federal Reserve. Bitchin. And no matter what you say, that person stares at you with glassy, red eyes and mutters that you’re the problem and please put that piece of foil back on the window, thanks. Paulbot.

I plan to create a petition to force Facebook to recognize these words, as soon as I figure out how to get Microsoft Word to recognize Facebook. I hate all these red lines-they make me nervous.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Just a Quickie!














When life hands you lemons
Remember
Even though that stupid poster tells you
To get tequila and some salt
That's a LIME
Lemons you rub
Into the paper cuts
Of your enemies.

Obama and Monsanto

Obama and Monsanto

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Bachmann Diaries: Well, That's That.




Dear Diary,

America is not ready for a Christian woman married to the love of her life with 972 foster children and at least 5 of her own as Ruler of Godlandia. I had to suspend my campaign.

I don't understand. I'm the best candidate. I'm smart and pretty and I want to blow up Iran, and I love the Jews, and I believe in Conservative Jesus and I would have taken this country back to the 18th century when life was good and pure. What went wrong? Was it Kent? Did his betrayal make everyone lose faith in me? I don't NEED Kent, I only need Jesus and Marcus. Marcus would have been the best First Husband in American history.

Now I am thinking about leaving the Congress so I can run against that socialist liberal Al Franken for his senate seat. Since I spent more money last year that any other congressional candidate, I should totally be able to raise more to get rid of that communist. Easy. He loves HOMOS, and all I need to do is call the MFC and bam, 13 million dollars in my manicured hand. Kiss it goodbye, Commie Franken.

Diary, now that I am out of the race, Marcus thinks we need a vacation. Not the cattle ranch-we're doing that for our anniversary. Marcus wants to rent an old Cadillac and drive to Las Vegas, like these best friends in a movie called "Thelma and Louise." I've never seen it, but Marcus said the ending is really powerful, and involves a stunt! He gets to leap from a moving car! I told him I don't think that's a good idea, but he says it's the only way it will work. Not sure what he's talking about there, but I'll go with it.

I'm pretty depressed, Dairy. Maybe a road trip is a good idea. We can stop off and see Wayne, and hopefully avoid those pygmy Mexicans. OH-the new dog, that Mastiff thing? Drooled all over my $2,000 baby sealskin low heel pumps from Russia. I could have killed it, but Marcus reminded me about Geronimo, so I just stood there, with dog drool all over my feet. I hate animals.

I need to find a new title...I KNOW!

Love-Senator Michele Bachmann of Minnesota. (Oh I like that!) xoxoxoxoxo


© Erin Nanasi 2012

Monday, January 9, 2012

It's My Name








Erin Nanasi. Not a particularly special name, although I am fond of it. Erin is the poetic Gaelic name for Ireland, and Nanasi is Hungarian for "If you cannot pronounce it on the phone, I know you're a telemarketer." My maiden name means badger in England. Yep, badger. Honey badger doesn't give a I digress.

Someone stole my name. They didn't charge a BMW to my credit card, or dress up like me and try and gain access to a high school reunion. No, this person stole my name for something a little closer to home. See, as a writer I have what is known as a Right to Publication, which means I choose how people can use my name. For example, you cannot use my name to promote something without my permission. Or, you cannot write over ONE HUNDRED ARTICLES and put my name on them. That violates my Right to Publication.

The person who did this was someone I thought to be a friend. This person had helped me with an Internet stalker last year, and had promoted and complimented my work. Well, I think it was my work...it may have just been my name with which he was so enamored. I have legal recourse, and I am looking into that. But there is no legal recourse for betrayal. There's no paperwork to file to amend the feeling that someone you cared about, someone you worried about, took advantage of you and used you for his own shady purposes. There is not a lawyer in the world who can win you compensation for being stabbed in the back.

It's my name, and I like it. It belongs to me. Not you, Mr. Baker, not you.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Imagine







Imagine you are 12 years old. Your 13th birthday is a week away. You should be thinking about your party, and your friends and how much cake you'll eat. You're turning 13!

Now, imagine instead of this scenario, you are in jail awaiting trial for a crime you may not have even committed. Your whole life, from birth, has been filled with neglect, physical and sexual abuse and now you are clothed in an orange jumpsuit, sleeping on a cot and you have no friends. When you get to go outside, it is to be placed in a van or police car and driven to court. You are in shackles, like an adult mass murderer.

You will spend your birthday not laughing, or eating pizza or watching movies or playing Nerf gun tag with your friends, but alone, in your cell. Maybe your lawyer will visit you, or the people from the Department of Children and Families. Your mom is in jail herself, your dad, MIA. You have no one.

This is the life of Cristian Fernandez, a 12 year old boy who turns 13 next week. He has been indicted for first degree murder for the death of his younger stepbrother, David. Cristian was also indicted on charges that he molested a now 5 year old sibling, but most people following the case believe the true predator was Cristian's stepfather. Cristian and David witnessed Cristian's stepfather's suicide-he shot himself in the head rather than be arrested on charges that he sexually abused Cristian. David had blood from the gunshot on his clothing.

I don't ask people to do things very often. I'll post a link to a petition every once in a while, but I don't really jump down throats to make things happen. I'm jumping now. Below is the mailing address for Cristian Fernandez. Send him a birthday card. Send this child who the state of Florida wants to throw away for the rest of his life a tiny piece of hope and love. Please. Please.

Cristian Fernandez
Duval Regional Detention Center
1241 East 8th Street
Jacksonville, FL 32206-4099

Friday, January 6, 2012

Ruh Roh!





A few friends were commenting on a Media Matters article about abortion, so I popped over to see what the heck was going on. I bumped into Val and Dana, and someone named Judy Slattery. Judy seems to be a right wing nut job, as her Facebook profile picture would suggest. She also is rabidly pro-fetus. Not pro-child, as she was very vehement that feeding poor children is not her responsibility, but ANTI ABORTION .

Judy believes that Planned Parenthood does nothing but perform abortions with tax payer money. When I informed her that both The Hyde Amendment and HR 3 prohibit that, she launched into "they still receive 46% of their funding from the government." Actually, Planned Parenthood receives about a third of its money from Title X and Medicaid, but facts never really stop a rabid right winger, now do they? (Remember to thank Nixon for Title X funding-he wasn't ALL bad.)

When I then informed Judy that Planned Parenthood is forbidden from using tax dollars to fund abortions, she wrote this:

"Erin, I have done battle w/ your kind before. So stuff it."

I responded by telling her "Congratulations, I'll make ya famous." At which point she blocked me, brave little Tea Bagger that she is! Can't block Google Images, though, which is how I managed to post her actual Facebook profile photo at the top of this blog post. You're welcome.

It's sad, really, when people are so caught up in the lies that they can't even fathom the truth, much less accept it. Judy was calling people stupid and told others to "stuff it". I wish Fox would put that damn discussion page back on Facebook. These people need a place to go, where we don't have to deal with them, don't you think?

Why I Write







When I was in sixth grade, I wrote a short story entitled "Plastic Oranges." It was science fiction, inspired by reading Ray Bradbury. In the future, there are no oranges, and vending machines spew out plastic ones, filled with juice. One of these machines falls in love with a girl in whose home it resides, and when she whispers that she wishes the machine could give her a better family, it destroys itself trying to give her that wish. "Plastic Oranges" wasn't very good, but it was my first attempt at creating something with words.

I have been a voracious reader for as long as I can remember. My mother used to proudly state I could read "Hop on Pop", cover to cover, when I was three. I've read great literature (Voltaire, James Joyce, Shakespeare) and I've read absolute garbage (Harold Robbins, Jackie Collins, V.C. Andrews). But it wasn't until I read "A Dirty Job" by Christopher Moore that I became inspired.

Christopher Moore is one of the best writers of my generation. His books are hilarious, and I mean laugh out loud, pee your pants, shoot soda out of your nose hilarious. Some of his books are also deeply moving, like "Lamb" and "A Dirty Job." Moore is self deprecating, humble, wise and just a really nice guy. When I emailed him after my mom died, and told him "A Dirty Job" helped me get through that horrible time, he emailed me back. HE did, not an assistant or an editor. We've exchanged a few emails over the years, and I proudly display an autographed photo he sent me.

I wrote a eulogy for my mom's funeral. It was very difficult to write and even more difficult to read. It was also pretty damn good. People came up to me after the service and told me how moved they were by my words, and how much they could see the love I had for my mother. Huh, I thought...I wonder.

So, I started writing for Medievia, an online text game. I wrote articles for their newspaper, The Mudslinger, and people really liked them. I began to think maybe, just maybe, I could do this in the "real world." That was a huge step, and one I did not take lightly. It's one thing to write for yourself, or a few hundred people who are all gamers, it's something quite different to put your work out on the Web for thousands of people to see and critique.

Lo and behold, people seemed to like what I was writing. I began The Bachmann Diaries while writing for New Progressive Muckraker, and those took off like wildfire. I created Presenting Dr. Schadenfreude while writing for Politics Anonymous, had a few pieces published at PoliticusUSA, and then, the miracle happened. Mad Mike's America, an online magazine, was looking for writers. But this was different from what I'd been doing; at Mad Mike's, it's not all about politics. I've written about my disastrous experience brushing a cat's teeth, holiday baking, movies and books. Yes, I write about politics, but I don't have to limit myself to that. It's a wonderful feeling.

In the past year, I have been privileged to meet some of the best writers in America. Those people inspire me, every day, to keep plugging along, to ignore the naysayers and the negative comments and to stay true to myself. As I prepare to publish my first (and quite possibly, only) book of essays, blogs and articles, I want to thank those writers, those friends, for their help, their support, their editing and their unwavering support. Kona Lowell, one of the funniest people in the world, and a wonderful and gifted author. Julie Kindle Driscoll, editor and publisher at Politics Anonymous, for never saying "Ooo, maybe you shouldn't go there". Cheri Sears, owner of New Progressive Muckraker, for not being afraid of The Bachmann Diaries. Lee Golden, my brother from another mother, for his friendship, his knack for promotion and his love. Jueseppi Baker, self professed Obamacrat and all around great guy. Steve and Josh Snyder Hill, for welcoming me into their lives and allowing me to interview them for what was one of the most emotional pieces of writing I have ever produced. And finally, because you always save the best for last, my husband, Jim.

Jim is my sounding board. If he laughs at a diary, or shakes his head in wonderment or says "Wow", I know it's good. He doesn't care that I make very little money writing, he doesn't mind when I rage and fume about Rick Santorum or Fox news or some racist website. He's the best partner, husband and friend on Earth, or any other planet, and I am made better by his love.

As I begin the arduous process of creating the book, I just wanted to share a little of why I write. If you are reading this and are thinking, maybe I could write, DO IT. Just write. We need more writers and less pundits, we need people unhampered by corporate media, we need more funny people and wise people and intelligent people. Just write.

Cristian Fernandez: Ethics Violation or Business as Usual in Florida?

Cristian Fernandez: Ethics Violation or Business as Usual in Florida?