Random Nuclear Strikes

So, I think I’ve finally figured out why I’ve been absent of late. It took Kevin Baker’s “Last Uberpost” for me to figure it out.

But first, a little side step:

Near the end of the Avenger’s movie, Bruce Banner quickly explains how he found he could control his alter-ego. Basically, he stays angry all the time so that when the anger arrives he has some control over the change.

Alternately, I get pissed off every day, and therefore can’t get pissed off enough to write anything.

I’m regularly in a constant state of irk, so much so that when I see a headline like “Federal Judge lowers the boom on Department of Justice after ‘Bad Faith’ misrepresentations” on my lunch at work, I’ll save it on my tablet, but by the time I get home, I’ve seen a different headline of “State Department misleads Congress on Extent of Anti-Israel bias at United Nations” and now I’m doubly pissed off. Then, when I’m looking these two headlines up, I’ll find one where Candidate Sanders says something completely nonsensical in the economic spectrum (this is a daily happening), and that’s it.

I’m done for the day. I’m seeing the RCOB and my brain just wants to type curses. And I’m pretty sure you don’t need that. Partly because I believe most of you are already seeing the RCOB yourselves and I don’t want to be the one that helps push you over the edge, and partly because I don’t like spreading bad news.

Sorry, y’all. But I’m contemplating turning off the lights here. The optimist in me says to keep them on. But, damn he is being beaten over the head daily. Like Kevin, I may just start posting cat memes. And music.

Stay tuned for a bit. I’m trying to arm the optimist with at least a bat or something.

I recently went to hang out with my sister for an afternoon. During this time we got to chatting and somehow fell upon the topic of Star Wars. She’s an enthusiastic nerd about these films, so we probably got there when she mentioned her love of the female protagonist for the movie. Because she is also a very enthusiastic 3rd Wave feminist.

I said something about how I couldn’t figure out why she needed assign a gender to a protagonist to enjoy being entertained, and that I enjoyed the character and didn’t care when their genitalia looked like.

She came back with “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, because you’re a guy. You get all the protagonists you want.” To which I replied with “And all the antagonists too.”

She then went off on how she is able to enjoy SW Eps four, five and six more now because she see these films as the dudes (Luke, Han, Lando, and probably Chewbacca too) putting aside their ambitions to unite behind a woman and get her into the leadership of the rebellion (or some such business).

I then went on to monlogue with something very close to the following:

“You can’t do that. You cannot see yourself as ‘A Woman’ first. You are a individual human being first. Once you put yourself into a box of ‘I’m a woman’ or ‘I’m black’ as the first part of your internal identity, you have lost and you will never have another happy day in your life. You may get happy moments, but they will be at the expense of those who are not like you and they will be made from spite and envy.”

“The moment you let someone tell you how to think of yourself, you have lost your true identity as an individual and as a human being. And it is someone else telling you to believe that. You do not do that to your own mind. It has to be fed to you, usually by someone telling you that the opposite of you is ‘bad’.”

She then quit speaking to me for a solid five minutes and when she did speak, the subject was changed, but the glare was the same.

We will meet up again. Probably in the next few weeks. She’ll keep the SJW bottled up until she can’t any more and I’ll unleash my individualism speech again, and maybe this time the glare will be replaced with a reasonable reply.

Or maybe not. But I’ll keep giving the speech to her and everyone else who has been SJW’d until I get one.

The RNS Blogging Crew is approaching assembly at their personal shrine to the Holy High-Speed Projectile. Dave is heading West, David is heading North and I am not going anywhere until Friday but am set for David’s arrival today and to send him off with supplies tomorrow.

My usual ride to Boomershoot, Bull, is critically injured with a ruined water pump, and I’ve still not found all my .22-250 ammo because of the unique way in which I organized my garage over the winter months.

My boss is regretting letting me have Friday off and is asking me for 10 hour shifts all week. I’ve built two new bench tops for my and David’s shooting benches and I am still thinking up improvements for them but have no time, so that’s going to bug me all weekend.

This didn’t used to be so damned hard.