TTFN!

I leave tomorrow for a fun filled few days with my son on his Spring Break! I'm very excited, because it's been nearly 3 months since we've seen each other. All I get when I call now is a chant of Mom-MEE, Mom-MEE, Mom-MEE, as if I were up at bat or something. He's an extremely excitable critter.

So far, our agenda as he's planned it includes playing Bloody Roar together, playing badminton in the backyard, eating lots of pizza, me going through his stack of school papers and playing with something called "Mighty Beans", which he is currently very fascinated with.

I'm so excited!! Dan-TAY, Dan -TAY, Dan-TAY!

--Virgil

Christians in Pull-Ups

I have been so sick of reading recently all the little snitty comments, largely from "Christians" that claim they are held to a different standard than the rest of us. I have had my fill of whiney remarks about being persecuted for their "faith". Here's another insightful passage from my friend Jerry's book:

"Has Christianity become a whiny religion?

It would seem so. Christians once defied persecution for a cause, but persecution has been lately redefined as being snubbed at the father-and-son picnic. It really hurts when my kids want to pray and the government won't force your kids to pray along with them!

Recently a movie that might have gone unnoticed filled a lull in the reportage of CNN. One of the more popular Christian sects was picketing a humorous portayal of apostles, saints, and angels. A young 'spokesman's' word-choice was fascinating: 'But they're attacking my faith!" As if his perspective enjoyed an immunity that his opponents' did not! As if religious satire were some fringy new art form! As if Jesus himself had not used it with the same laudable intention, to purge religion of silliness with truth!

The Epistle to the Hebrews has a more robust conception of faith. It was through faith that the elders:

"...were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might obtain a better resurrection;

"...had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment;

"they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword; they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented..."

The faith that could endure being sawn asunder now faints at the prospect of an annoying movie.

The young man could not endure an attack on his faith. What faith? It is not our faith, but our illusions, that wail for sympathetic treatment.

What did the young man want? To be patronized? To be sheltered? To be indulged? Was he exhibiting this poor, pale, and sickly body of his faith in hopes of an exemption from life in the real world?

It doesn't work that way.

Faith that needs protection cannont be protected."


Such a smart man, as usual. I think the movie he is referring to is "Dogma". I would add to this, that I, when bothering people at their homes on a Saturday morning whilst in a fundy cult, was screamed at, called names, accused of trying to overthrow the government, had dogs set upon us, was warned about guns in the home, and had several people go into full on, eye-rolling speaking in tongues. And yes, that means that somebody's eyes rolled back and they went into "A-sha-na-na-na-na-na." At the time, we thought they were demon posessed. Now I know they were probably just off their meds. Oh, did I mention I was 12, 13 years old when this happened? And that was after I told them I was bringing the GOOD news of the kingdom! Imagine what might've happened if I'd told them the bad news first! Christians, if you want to keep on using training pants, then stop whining to me about when you need to go potty.

--Virgil

5 Things

5 things that I'm glad have happened to me in my life (in no particular order):

1) I'm glad I was forcibly "excommunicated". If I hadn't been kicked out, I wouldn't have struggled so quickly to make sense of it all. It may have taken me years to overthrow the cult atmosphere of fundamentalist religion. I like to think it would've come eventually, but I'm glad, glad, glad it came sooner rather than later.

2) I'm glad I homeschooled. I didn't get to do it for long enough, but it taught me more about my child than I've learned in a long, long time. And it provided direction for graduate school.

3) I'm glad I bit the bullet and changed my major to English. Well, I didn't so much change as add a major. I have a BS in Economics and a BA in English. Making the bold move to get an education just because there are things you should *know* was one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

4) I'm glad I didn't get an abortion. I have only the utmost respect for the struggle that women go through who do end up making the decision to abort. I know from first hand experience that it isn't so glibly considered "birth control", as some on the "right" would have us believe. I couldn't have gotten a better boy if I had gotten to choose. I will probably never have another one, and I'm glad I have the one I do.

5) I'm glad I've stood on principle. I remember my first protest, and I was scared to death, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Knowing when to speak up and when to sit in has been the most valuable thing my father ever taught me. It feels incredibly good. But then again, I have a "face the firing squad" mentality. I would be the one that spit on the kommisar when I got my last request. ::sigh:: I blame virtually 500 years of genetics. Sister, you KNOW what I'm talking about! My son is probably one of the few in the world who is related to both Jefferson Davis and Abraham Lincoln. No kidding.

5 things I wish had never happened to me:

This is a bit tougher, because I've learned so much from every disaster that I've gone through. Would I be the same person I am today if I hadn't gone through it? I don't know. I'd like to think I'd be a bit...softer. Maybe. Maybe not.

1) I wish my Dad hadn't died when he did. We were very close, and I was only 17. He died far too soon, and my family went into a tailspin when he left. He was the only one we all liked, LOL. But it forced me to grow up and refine what I knew. But some days, I wish he was here to talk to. I wish he could see Dante.

2) I wish that I had never dated that closet alcoholic. In my defense, there was never any beer in the house or in his truck. I still haven't the slightest idea how he managed it. But it sure made a lot of sense when he confessed it. Are you dead yet, buddy? How about now?

3) I wish that I had the good sense NOT to record my every thought (life, politics, sex and more) when I was 16-17 years old and pass it back and forth to that *daft* boy that turned me in to the thought police. On the one hand, I should thank him for getting me a one way ticket out of a cult. But it was my own private 1984. Happily, I register 76% evil on a stupid internet test, and the punk lives in fear of me to this day. If you saw me, you'd know how freaking funny that is. If you knew me, you'd understand why he left the state. :)

4) I wish I hadn't been raised in a cult. Kinda out of my control, I know, but still. It took some massive brain energy to get over a lot of the thought patterns they put in your brain. How many paintings could I have executed with that energy? The world may never know.

5) I wish that I hadn't been such a young mother. This one is a double edged sword, because I desperately want and love the child I have. I'd also like to not have been 2 weeks off my 20th birthday when I had him. My choice. But young mothers aren't as seasoned in life, and life may have been...easier, if I hadn't been so young.

--Virgil

Healthy Kids

I hope this picture turns out OK. This is the face and product of a kid who has great self esteem. You turn your back on the dry erase markers, and out comes what he really thinks of himself. In case you can't tell, on the white board is a picture of a black boy with curly hair and a big S in the middle of his blue suit. Fantastic. No plumbing supply lines were involved in the making of this piece of art.


On an unrelated note, I offer this advice to married people (which doesn't apply to nine tenths of the people that read my blog, but heed this anyways!). Apparently if you are married and you have a spat and you tell a friend about it, you are bound foot and hand toward a divorce. I have not noticed this phenomenon when I was merely a girlfriend. But since I have been a *wife*, you cannot have a fight without it being indicative of a character flaw and provoking a "are you gonna take that for the rest of your life?!" Jesus H. Christ. (The H stands for Herbert.) Somehow it became OK to raise the ultimatum when you get married so that everything is either perfect, or it's time for the lawyers!! I had no idea.

The Most Beautiful Sound in the World

I've had what Spongebob Squarepants would call "the suds" for a few days now. So last night was the first night that I really got to talk to Dante in a few days. He's obsessed with his new girlfriend, a hilarious situation. When I asked him why he thought he needed a girlfriend (an older 4th grader, no less!) he said, "I dunno. Never had one before."

Apparently they don't speak to each other. The only time they've ever spoken is when she came up to him and said he was cute and asked his name. They interact with a go-between, Dillan, a classmate of Dante's. Dillan brings her Dante's missives and presents, and Dante apparently hides and watches. When I asked him why he didn't talk to her himself, he said, "Too shy!!" "Is your face in the pillow?" I asked, because he sounded muffled. "Yes," he said, again muffled. Good Lord.

He loves to give presents (he takes after Sister in this way), and he has given her many homemade gifts. For Valentine's Day he cut out a big paper heart, sprayed it with his stepmother's perfume, and wrote "smell" on it and gave it to her. You'd just have to know him, I guess. He's all about the experience of the senses, and a body learner through and through.

His latest obsession is a ring he found at a dollar store which "looks like it should cost a thousand bucks but only costs $1!!" This present is important because he has conceeded to give it to her himself, well, while hiding behind Dillan. So we have talked of little else for the past week--what should he wear, what color should it be, what if all her friends giggle at him (which I've explained is the equivalent of breathing to 10 year old girls, and not to worry).

While we were talking, he did something that pushed me hard into the past. He yawned. I swear, it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. He goes hard until he falls down into a heap, so a yawn is usually a sign he's about to collapse. But the way he makes it hasn't changed since he was a baby.

I remembered how he was as a baby, head full of curly black hair, dark eyes and a perpetual frown on his forehead, as if people weren't doing things fast enough for him. When he got tired, he'd furrow that brow and yawn, that intake of breath coming out in a sigh. Then his eyes would mist over and his brow would relax, as if to say, Oh, well, I'll give up and try it again tomorrow. He hasn't changed a bit.

When he sighed out his yawn, I asked, "Are you sleepy, baby?" "No. Well, maybe just a little. But we're gonna try to talk about it again tomorrow."

I love you, Dante.

--Virgil

Repulsive Hipocrisy--BOYCOTT THESE PEOPLE

You know, Christians would probably get a lot further with people if they didn't condone/excuse/cover up bad things when they happened. The following article is a perfect example of any number of things, why some people shouldn't even have kids in the first place, why some "spiritual" advisors ought to be prosecuted for advocating child abuse. I could go on. But I'll let you read it for yourself.

Child Murdering Mother

What's equally as bad is the rationalization by some so called "Christians" of the methods this woman clearly says she got from the Pearls. The spin is so dizzying I want to vomit. This particular "Christian" apologist runs a magazine and homeschool site that's pretty popular, and I can't BELIEVE she is defending this shit. In one of her comments she had the nerve to say, Oh, and I have to keep pointing out the child wasn't beaten to death--he was suffocated. Oh, but she left out that this was ALSO another method the very wise child abuse advocating Pearls suggest to keep your child in the bed. She goes out of her way to claim they don't advocate child abuse. Bull shit. Go to the Pearls' site and type "spanking" into the search and watch the contradictory statements begin.

Boycott Hypocritical Homeschoolblogger/The Old Schoolhouse

Pearl's No Greater Joy Than Beating A Kid site

Pearl goes on to say wonderfully contradictory things like "physical abuse should not be tolerated" in the household. So what the hell is hitting your kid with a piece of fucking pipe or an open hand? It "stings," my ass. If you're such a crappy parent that things have come down to physical violence, you need a therapist, not their obviously backwards books. Oh, and for those who think that this will "train up a boy" or whatever, kids don't avoid "bad" behavior because they have "learned" anything from the spanking. They will avoid letting YOU see any "bad" behavior because--get ready, now, pencils in the air??--they don't want to get HIT. So, geniuses, you've merely succeeded in destroying the trust between you and your child.

I guess that's why preacher's kids are always the wildest ones?

Boycott their disgusting sites and demand that people don't wiggle out of the crap they're advocating.

Oh, and while we're in the mood to rant on religions covering up disgusting behavior, here's another gem for you:

Child Molestation Cover Up

--Virgil

Happy Days

Happy days. The days when we homeschooled. I miss him quite a bit. He's in public school now and doing quite well. I'll get to see him in a couple of weeks when he goes on Spring Break. I can't wait, because it's been nearly 2 1/2 months since I've seen him.

My rant on the situation currently is that his dad is enrolling him in baseball this summer. So that means he can't come up here, and that I'll have to make several 7 hour one way drives down there. *@!#&.

He's doing so well without me, and I find that hard to swallow. I keep telling myself he's not really "without" me, and he's not. But he hasn't been calling every night like he used to, and when I call him many times they're doing something.

What that really means is that he's healthy, and he's adjusting. He has a great dad who has really risen to the occasion, and I want to take nothing away from him as far as that goes. But I wonder if I should put my foot down and say, no he's coming to West Virginia (where he has no friends and nothing for him really to do), or should I let him stay in Kentucky doing fun things over the summer, and take yet one more step out of his way?

Sigh.

He asked if he could bring me in for show and tell at school, and it nearly broke my heart. As if he were saying, see everybody, I've got a mom, and here's the proof. He sounds really happy when I talk to him. All the family we have down in Kentucky say he's doing great.

Your mother is always your mother. I guess a small part of me is worried that I may have lost my relevance to him, or that I'm ceding it away.

--Virgil

Zoinks!!!

Egad. It really is a plan. I thought it was liberal hysteria. Check out the link provided by Samuel (thanks).

Scary Fundy Plan

All I can say is...Zoinks!! But what I really really want to say is: please--move there. Then let's declare war and send them all to a Fundy Guantanemo. The first phase is scheduled for September of this year. Full theocracy is hoped to be reached by 2014-2016. Doesn't that coincide with the next Mayan cycle of destruction??

--Virgil

Guidelines for Regulating Religion

Per special request as an addendum to hubby's proposal to highly regulate or outright ban certain religions as posted below, here is a modest guide to regulating versus banning, with some examples.

Regulating: not the best for you, but won't kill you unless you're really trying. I suppose that since all Christianity has a death obsession--after all, their main icon is a dude being tortured and dying or being dead--all Christianity can kill you. In fact, one might go so far as to say that they all WANT to die, as the next life is supposed to be better than this one. However, for our political purposes, regulating assumes that substances would be consumed in moderation, with penalties for those who overdose on their religion and are demonstrating PR--public religiosity. Naturally, all impromptu preaching would be banned except in approved free preaching zones. Violation may result in a fine of $25,000 or 5 years in jail, whichever is most repugnant to the offender. Offenders also risk losing their claim to said religion, and would have to find another one or do without. However, they do not qualify for the Atheist Tax Break without passing a qualifying exam refuting the existence of God (heh, heh). Religions that have displayed general tolerance or ease with life are regulated by an official state religion regulator in each preapproved state church site. If you vary your sermon, we'll know about it.

Churches that are regulated:

Presbyterians: Pretty much OK due to their belief in Calvinism, or predetermination. So if they do end up banned, it'll be OK because it was already predestined to be so. They won't give us any trouble. They also tend to be full of wealthier white people, so they make a good tax base (did I mention we're taxing religions??).

Quakers: More or less because they mind their own business and encourage others to mind theirs. And because they're adamant pacifists. If we have to shut them down, they'll quietly go on home.

Unitarians: They work for tolerance among all beliefs, and will probably be spending so much time trying to integrate everyone's differing opinion into one reconcilable view that they'll be too busy to cause trouble.

Episcopalians: Took a stance on gay rights. Gotta have some semblance of ritual, people seem to dig that.

Banning Churchs: If it really is true that religion is the opiate of the masses, then it's time we treated it as such. Some religions are like heroin--junk to society and those that use them. Candidates for these religions can find themselves in hot water for a number of tell tale signs: any secret handshakes, underwear, special books or other things that attempt to dominate the behavior of the flock. Sometimes even sheep have rights. Any bizarre behavior that is dangerous to the life of the follower, considered gross or just plain stupid will land you on the banned list as well. Any attempt to exert undue influence on the lives of the "flock" will be swiftly put down.

Churches that are banned:

Pentecostals: No more handling of snakes, speaking in tongues and flopping on the floor like a crazy person. Time to get the medication you truly need.

Baptists: Mainly for their bickering, inability to decide what a Baptist should or shouldn't believe, and their obsession with hell fire. Considered divisive to the nation.

7th Day Adventists: For annoying people at home with their house calls and generally just being bizarre.

Jay-Dubs: See Apostofest entry. See Fundies Gone Wild entry. For rousing people out of a good Saturday morning slumber to answer their dumb questions about life on earth for ever and ever. For resigning their flock to death because they won't accept blood transfusions, for covering up molestation in the church yet blasting the Catholics for the same thing, for using the congregation as the elders' personal pissing tree. And so much more. Banned, banned, BANNED.

Catholics: For telling people that if they vote for certain candidates that they cannot recieve communion. Mucking with politics gets you banned instantly.

Born-agains: I would think this goes without explaining.

EXCEPTIONS: Some churches are exceptions to the rule.

Methodists: Husband can't figure them out. Doesn't like them because they're too much like Catholics, doesn't really know what to do with them. Allowed for now, but regulated. Heavily regulated and watched...

Mormons: To be decided on a case by case basis. On the fence due to religion's tenets being revealed through the use of magic rocks, the Uma and the Thurman. There are only two criteria: 1) How many wives do you have? The proper answer is one. To be followed up on with a home visit by state inspection people. 2) Do you have magic underwear? The proper answer is no. To be proven by dropping your pants. NOW.

--Virgil

Gimme a pack of Marlboros, a case of Bud lite, and a Presbyterian sermon.

My husband got fed up with something he heard at a graduate class last night. Something or other about how there is a fundy movement to get people to move to South Carolina so that they can get fundy representation in Congress and push for their own separate state, and if that wasn't granted they would secede?! Anyone hear about this, or is it grad students freaking out in the ivory tower? I had heard about fundies wanting to move to SC, sort of like forcible redistricting. Don't know what's so hot about SC, though, looks like there would be fundier places than that. Maybe it's the spirit of revolt or something.

Anyhoo, he got into one of his rants and said that if he were dictator (which he would never be, and if he was *I* would be the first to secede), he would regulate religion like the government regulates drugs. He says that just as some drugs like cigarettes and alcohol aren't great for you but not the worst, those religions would be regulated but not banned. He named the Presbyterians, Quakers and Episcopals as the tobacco and beer of religions. Other religions he says are like crack and heroin--BAD--and should therefore be banned off the face of the earth. He lists Pentecostals, Baptists, 7th Day Adventists, Jay-Dubs, Catholics for their general coming in and mucking with politics, and several others as the crack, heroin, "junk" if you will of religions. Methodists he says are pushing it, but they would be regulated--and closely watched. Mormons would be allowed by special permit only. Declared Atheists would get a tax break.

I thought I would die laughing.

--Virgil

Ranting and Raving

You know, I try to ignore crap, but sometimes it gets dumped in my lap, all hot and smelly.

There are two things that I don't like, yea two things that your blogger doth hate. Psychosomatic (spelling??) women and victim women. I work around a psychosomatic woman. Thank god not my director, but someone who's active enough to pretty much be in and out of the office constantly. I have never seen a more drama addicted woman in my life. She goes in the hospital at 4am Thursday because her potassium is low, and pitches a crying fit until they release her Friday. She then spends all Friday with a fundraiser until her blood sugar drops and she glazes over. The fundraiser she went to on Saturday resulted in a trip to the emergency room because she injured herself while learning a craft. And that's just in the last three days. Not saying she's not sick--but she ain't sick.

My bet is, she wouldn't be spending near as much time in the hospital if her Air Force spouse's benefits weren't paying for it. Did I mention that she and her husband both have filed involuntary commitment papers (yup, cart 'em off to the psych ward) against each other? Lovely. I can hardly wait to see what happens next. Get over yourself. Better yet, get to know people with REAL medical emergencies.

Second, victim women. I can hardly express how vile I find women who run back to their abuser/abusive situation. I know all about battered woman syndrome, so please don't try to educate me. I've worked in a women's shelter and known far too many people who were close to me who were abused. Someone tried it on me, and they ended up on their back with a massive bruise on their chest, and I'm 115 pounds, so suck it, you know who!

My jaw dropped to the floor when I heard, "He didn't do anything wrong except hit me." EXCUSE ME?? There isn't anything MORE wrong. Let the loser flop around in his own filth. Do you think he'd give *you* a helping hand?? Hardly. He starts to feel the pain of real life, and comes crying back wanting help. Go fuck yourself. That's what I'd say. I guess that's why the first thing he asked her was, "You're not going to be like Joy, are you?" LMFAO. That's right, you knuckle dragging Neanderthal. Come ask me. See what it gets you.

I remember putting up a girl I barely knew in my house with my own dear Sister because she was getting beat by an inlaw of mine. I didn't know her, I guess she could've robbed me blind. But I had to get her out. Her friend was going to pick her up that morning and take her to the sheriff's office to file charges. At 2pm that afternoon, I'm walking across campus and I hear a car horn. I turn and she's sitting shotgun in HIS car, and they're both waving at me. I took that to mean a big FUCK YOU to me. I learned that day that you can't help somebody who doesn't want to be helped. When they want it, they'll take it.

--Virgil

In My Next Life...

I'm pretty satisfied with the way my life is now. I'm going in the directions I want to be going, I'm doing the things I said I wanted to do. I'm only in the early stages of the journey, but I'm satisfied at least that I have set out. Of course, I would rather my Dante be here with me, but his happiness and growth are primary goals of mine, and, well, he's getting that. Just in a different place.

Still, if when my energy gets recycled into the universe and I happen to get to be a human again, there are three things I hope I get to be. Oh, and I'd like to come back female again. I don't think I'd care to be a dude.

I want to be a dancer. A classically trained on stage warming up at the bar tapping, jazz ballerina. I want to get into the whole leotard thing and go into a different universe when the music starts. I watched the dance teachers at my son's dance school. They seem like they're on a different set of stars than I am, a completely different, body oriented universe. It looks like fun. However, at 28 years old, I'm already over the hill to begin trying. Fortunately, that doesn't keep me from enjoying other people doing it. Or from rocking around the house like a Fraggle on crack.

I want to be a musician in an orchestra. I would play the flute. I trained for a few years on the flute, but never got to do anything professional with it (can't let fundy children out into the REAL world, heavens they might pick up something--like the truth pox!). I love the flute. I can also play the piano and a couple other things. But actually having been in the music world (albeit the granola crunchy state park scene), I know that orchestra work is probably out. Too much competition. When the dust settles, though, I'll probably pick up the flute again for fun. But I'd like to tour the world in my next life with my concert clothes and the sound of everybody hitting one note for tuning with my shiny flute!

Last, I would like to be an opera singer. I'd like to belt out arias for things like "The Magic Flute" (hee hee! flutes AND opera) and dress up and bring the rafters down with my alto soprano! Unfortunately, alto soprano is the most competitive female vocal part. So I'd have to be born with a different range. I'd like the highest range possible, please, or to be a *gifted* alto soprano. Even though my vocal cords would be mellow enough right now to start me into my prime, I don't have years of training behind me. Plus, I don't have enough power to really belt it out. Close, but no cotton. So, I'd like to be born again as either Nathalie Dessay (that way I could be a cute Frenchwoman as well) or fat. My Italian professor trained to be an opera singer. She said she gave it up when she realized that she had a good voice but that she wasn't gifted. And the gifted in opera always win out over the good.

I wish I could feel the same thing toward my writing and photography. I would hope that if the day comes after I've tried my best and I find that I'm a "good" writer, but not gifted, I'll smile, put down my pen, and still be able to get into a good book without envy.

--Virgil

Sheep Heaven

This comes from a very dear friend of mine who self published a book. It's my favorite passage out of the book. It would be no exaggeration to say that without Jeremiah Cox's presence in the bleakest time of my life, I would not be here today. The book is called "Redesigning God." I'm not enlightened enough to really explain his philosopy, but this "parable" is awesome.

"My fantasy of the Last Judgment may not be as insane as it sounds. Occasionally, even a madman speaks the truth.

It begins in the traditional manner. God congratulates the sheep on inheriting heaven by their sheeplike behavior and promises them the goats will have hell to pay.

But after the sheep have skipped offstage to their eternal reward, God confirms His mutual understanding with the goats.

'Look fellows. Everything I said to the sheep is true. They are on the way to Paradise, but it's their kind of paradise, not yours. Sheep huddle together in flocks; they will follow anyone who walks upright; and they are sweet but timid little folk. they shall have a heaven appropriate to their temperament.

But you guys are the creatures truly of like mind with Myself. You go where the timid will not go; you are brazenly independent; you think for yourself; you wander off alone; and you are not afraid of heights.

I have always phrased my teaching for the sheep, because I knew you could figure it out for yourself. When I promised them I would send you guys to hell, I had to tell the truth. But it was hell as they understood the word. You are indeed going to sheep-hell; but sheep-hell is also goat-heaven.

Thank God--that would be Me--that you didn't follow their lead; for sheep-heaven, by definition, would be hell on a goat.'"

--Virgil

"I wanna know...have you ever seen the (acid) rain?"

Today it will be in the 50s. Yesterday it was 24 degrees. But tonight we'll have freezing rain. And yet global warming does not exist. Ri-ight. We had several days in January where it got into the 70s!! And then in a week it was in the 20s. I have never seen weather like this in my lifetime. Winter was always freaking winter and didn't cross into late spring and then dive back.

I don't claim to know all the scientifics of it, but I do not see how anyone can possibly assert that the earth isn't warming at an alarming rate. I think the people who are in opposition oppose the fact that humans are causing it. I suggest they drive into East Bernstadt, KY and take a deep breath of air on the Court Square, then have some thoughtful reflection on the matter.

My prediction? It'll get to the crisis point and then we'll have to strictly ration energy. Companies will trot out the technology they've been working on for decades anyway. We'll have public celebrations when normal things like red tailed foxes have population surges. My husband isn't that politically motivated. But when it comes to environmentalism, he is galvanized beyond belief. Sometimes I provoke him on purpose just to watch. Since he hasn't made reading my blog a high priority, I'm safe in saying this.

A combination of worrying about the earth and outrageous utilities bills made us decide that when we do build a house of our own (6 years and counting, whoo-hoo!), we're going to put one of those disc thingys underground for geo-thermal heat and we're going to get our own little wind turbine. Part of that probably has something to do with our anarchist streak of not wanting to rely on companies or government. At least it sounds cool in theory!

--Virgil