24 February 2011

Stop confusing God's will with your own

No. Not just no, but HELL NO. A military chaplain apparently told a rape victim that her rape was God's will and that she should attend church more often.

Oh. Your. God. Because that is not my God. No way, no how, no chance.

What in bloody hell is wrong with that chaplain?! How can he honestly think that God thought, "Ya know, Sgt Havrilla sinned once too many times. I think I'm going to have GI Joe rape her today. That'll make her come and worship me"? WHAT?! He's out of his fucking mind!

God LOVES. Rape is an act of hatred and control. God doesn't do that. Ever.

16 February 2011

Is HuffPo to blame for its own craptasticity? Answer: Yes.

HuffPo has gone too far. It's all over Twitter that there's a poll up on HuffPo that actually asks if Lara Logan was to blame for her own sexual assault. I shit you not. It's there. It was a hoax. But the poll was still there. Just not on HuffPo

Let me make this as clear as possible: Rape is NEVER the victim's fault. Rape is ALWAYS the rapist's fault. No exceptions. Period.

p.s Craptasticity is a perfectly cromulent word.

Valentines Day... was 2 days ago?

I know, Valentine's Day is a perfect time for a Feminist Christian Socialist to go off on a really good rant. I mean, we've got St.Valentine, whose message of 'thanks for being my friend' got corrupted wildly, commercialism gone rampant, and then the sexism of Women Want Stuff, all rolled into one "holiday". And your favourite Feminist Christian Socialist missed all the raving.

No surprise, but I don't give a rat's ass about Valentine's Day. I got a 100g bar of fair trade chocolate, and I'm glad to have it. My husband got ***censored***. Hahahaha. Anyway, one of my friends was saying that every year her husband gets on one knee and thanks her for not giving a shit about Valentine's Day. I told mine about that, in amusement, not as a hint, and he said, "I was kinda thinking you should do that for me about all the so-called men's things I don't give a shit about". Hehehe. This is true.

What annoys the hell out of me is the constant messages before V-Day suggesting that women are so shallow and petty that they want expensive shit and if you don't get it for her, she's dumping your ass. Okay... so it happens. But I'm thinking that those relationships probably are a bit strained anyway. If your man treats you like a princess every day, and you treat him like your prince every day, chances are, you don't need to find a way to act like the other is the freakin' Queen or King on Valentine's Day. If your relationship hinges on what you buy once or twice a year (because HELLO! Anniversaries!) there's a serious problem. I'm thinking you're probably not showing your partner enough appreciation all year round.

Or maybe I'm generalizing. I dunno.

11 February 2011


Yesterday, CBC had an article that began: The RCMP made history in Regina Wednesday as Chief Superintendent Russ Mirasty became the first aboriginal to command a division of the national police force.

I find it sad that we are still celebrating firsts. Don't get me wrong, we should totally celebrate this. It's an amazing feat for an aboriginal to get to such a position in the RCMP. What's sad is that we haven't destroyed all these milestones years and years ago. It's truly a sign that we do not live in an equitable society yet.

I don't have the brainpower to expand on this thought.

09 February 2011

PSA: Things not to say to a parent of a special needs child

People say the stupidest damn things when confronted with children with disabilities. I'm working on smartassed remarks for these comments. I've come up with a few good ones that I use on good/bad days.

God only gives us what we can handle.  (i.e. God did this. Don't even try to complain about it. OR This could never happen to me!)
    Oh really? Ever hear of suicide?
    No, it's a test to see if we'll ask for help. So, I'm asking. Wanna look after my kids?!

Your children are SO LUCKY to have you as parents. (i.e. Well, they have to have something going for them! OR GAH! I would totally beat that child! ALSO I am soooooo glad I'm not that kid's parent!)
    Yes, I suppose they could have had you. *turn and walk away*

What's wrong with him? 
    He has Autism. What's wrong with you? Nothing? Hah. Coulda fooled me!

Don't worry! She'll catch up eventually!  (i.e. I refuse to believe that anything can be wrong with any kid! ALSO, 'here, have some false hope!')
    Do you guarantee that? If not, can I get my money back?
    What makes you think so?
    Really? Her doctor doesn't think so.

Oh, that's normal! All kids do ______ sometimes. (i.e. You're over-reacting! Also see previous comment)
   Why yes. But mine do it every hour or so. Still normal?
   And you're a developmental psychologist, right? Where did you get your PhD?

That child just needs some discipline! (i.e. Why don't you beat him?! I would totally beat him!)
   OMG! Why didn't I think of that! Of course, I've just been letting him do whatever he wants whenever he wants without the first thought of trying to discipline him. WOW. Thank you for curing his Autism with a single ignorant remark!

Also, stop talking about him like he's not there. And more, stop treating him like he's not in your earshot. He can hear you. He can understand you. Telling me how you understand how hard it must be to live with a child like him is NOT productive.

For some reason, people don't treat children like they are human beings. And children with disabilities, even less so. So stop it, or I'll really lay a smack down on you.

You can't argue with the Little Things

My sister blogger (are we sisters if we're the same damn person?) Betty Fokker wrote about happiness and what makes a person happy. Of course, I was thinking of just this thing lately, though not with the awesome study to back it up. :)

I have found the people of Victoria to be FAR less friendly than the people of Regina. I'm not sure why this is, but Mr. FCS says it's a survival thing. If being outside can kill you, you'd better be able to count on the people around you, so you don't piss them off. I don't know if he's on to something or not. And I don't know if friendliness equates to happiness. But it's a random interesting (to me) thought. :)

I think the reason for a lot of unhappiness is capitalism. The constant drive to have More. That what you have now isn't good enough. Never be satisfied. Always compete. Always put yourself first. It cannot possibly bring anyone happiness.

I've written about the Little Things before, haven't I? I dunno, and I can't be arsed to find it. Gist: "You can't argue with the little things, Homer. It's the little things that make up life." If a bunch of little shit gets you down, it doesn't matter if you're a millionaire or a pauper. If the little things are good for you, it's probably better to be the millionaire, but the pauper will be happy too. :)

I got thinking about that this weekend when someone said she found it annoying to wake up to "GOOD MORNING, MOMMY!" and I said, "If one of my boys said that, I'd jump out of bed and shout 'Hallelujah!'", not thinking that I might be being a little insensitive. It's one of those little things that can be really annoying if you have it and are taking it for granted. Hell, I do the same thing! Crackle gets up in the morning and comes into my bed and snuggles up to me. Unfortunately, he does a vocal stim the whole time and I wake up to "Ay! Ay! Aye!" every few seconds. But he's cuddly. And LOTS of parents of autistic kids don't get the cuddles. They'd shout hallelujah if their child would snuggle with them, and wouldn't begrudge them the stim. So, I remembered that this morning when he was particularly loud, and just enjoyed the snuggle.

07 February 2011

Dear Academy

Dear Academy of Whatever,

Please see my letter to Super Sunday to get the gist of how I feel about your giant Hollywood circle jerk.

Yours Truly,
FCS Luna.

06 February 2011

Cheer for WHOM?!

Dear Super Sunday,

I'm writing to apologise for the utter lack of a fuck that I give about you. No, let me be truthful. I do give a little bit of a fuck. But only insofar as it annoys the fuck out of me to hear about Ben Rapistberger... I mean Roethlisberger. So, I'd cheer for the Packers, I would. But Jones (Brad), Matthews, Sitton, Jones (Khalil), Hall, Underwood, and Flynn were also rather credibly accused of sexual assault. Yes, Super Sunday, I know, they were all cleared. I don't care. Especially about Rapistberger. I thoroughly believe that woman. She underwent a rape kit. Her complaint was neat and tidy until the bit about the rape. Really, Super Sunday, I believe her.

So no, I will not be cheering for anyone. I will not be enjoying any of it. It will be on in my living room as my darling Mr. FCS enjoys the game, even if he makes snarky comments about various players.

Sadly, Super Sunday, being Canadian, I can't even watch the stupid commercials and mock them mercilessly, as our Canadian feed puts our ads in place of theirs.

So I think I'll sit here, knit a bit, crochet a bit, and apologise to you. Because this year, I just can't get in the least bit excited. If I were not trying to be a decent person, I'd cheer for injuries.

h/t DJ Holla

03 February 2011


I have a really restricted diet. This is because there are a lot of foods that make me sick. Fat? I don't care. My philosophy has pretty much always been, "I'll eat what I want, when I want". And I do. Except that I can't eat a number of foods because they make me sick. So I don't eat them. Gluten, dairy, and meat are the big three. I also don't eat eggs because they make my little Pop sick when he nurses after I eat them. And I keep sugar on the downlow because the boys go CRAZY on it.

I recently ran into an awesome blog by someone who preaches my food philosophy. Eat good food. Eat food. Stuff you like. As much as you want. If that makes you fat, so be it. Health can be had at any size. I love her. :)

So I eat whatever I want. This means that today, I've had two huge salads with dill salad dressing, an avocado, a handful of potato chips (baked Kettle chips are the BEST things EVER), some crackers with peanut butter, a cup of apple cider and some leftover mashed potatoes. I'm going to have tofu on salad tonight. :) And definitely a big glass of wine.

I'm really appalled at the shaming of fat people. I'm no where near the range that it would happen to me if I dared to eat a doughnut in public or something. I do, however, get the concern trolls. The worst kind though, the ones who don't even know they're trolls. They've bought into the idea that obesity = death and fat = GROSS so badly, that they honestly think they're helping. For example, I was buying avocados the other day and this lady came up to me to tell me how fattening they are. I said, "I know, that's the point". She looked horrified. I wasn't in a mood to be too mean, so I said, "The baby is underweight." She was so relieved, it was comical. So I just said, "And I love them too. Lots of good Omegas." She said, "But they're so fattening! So many calories. You shouldn't eat them!" I said, "Meh, I don't care about any of that. I eat what I want" And then I walked away while she looked flabbergasted. (Get it? FLABbergasted? HAHAHA! I kill me.)

Another recent development is people's reactions to my weight loss. If you're a careful reader of all my posts, and why wouldn't you be, you'll remember I lost a bunch of weight recently. While I sat on my ass doing nothing but crochet because my foot was broken. I'm down a size or two in jeans. Honestly, is 16 to 14 one size or two? And why isn't sizing in inches like it is for men? Oooh, digression. Anyway, I lost some weight. I couldn't tell you how much, because my scale is broken and I don't feel like buying a new one. And the reactions from people who know me are rather pissing me off. I've told them that it's unexplained weight loss, that I wasn't trying to lose weight, and they're still going on and on about how great it is. Ya know, that does two things: (a) it tells me people don't give a shit about my health. Or they equate it with weight loss. Which is b.s. My Mom lost a third of her body weight before her stupid doctor bothered to find out why - it was renal failure. (b) These same people think I looked icky before I lost the weight. Am I still icky in their eyes? At what weight would I be thin enough for their f'd up sense of health and beauty? When would I start being too thin, that they'd start making sure I didn't have an eating disorder? Which, you know, is something that only affects thin people. *snort*

You know, I wouldn't have a problem with,
"Have you lost some weight recently?"
"Yup" "Ahh. Thought so." or "Good thing?"
"Don't care"

It's the assumption that I must hate how I look. It's really frustrating.

01 February 2011

On Sunday, the lovely minister at my tiny little church, talked about the Beatitudes. It's one of my favourite scriptures. Probably because it challenges the hell out of the conservative thinking patterns. (No, I joke. But it doesn't hurt. :)) Anyway, if you're not familiar, here's a link. I'm not good at getting everything I want to from a sermon; usually my mind is going in 3 directions minimum - and this past Sunday at least 46. But I got something good: having things is a really crappy thing to build your life on. Only God is a good foundation. FABULOUS. I love it. I can be happy, no matter what. I can have blessings out the wazoo if I know where to look for them. And they're not in things. They're in God. Nice.

That's not to say, "ooooh, you poor people, don't try to make life better for yourselves, because you'll be rewarded in Heaven." Not at all. It's more of a call to build the foundation of your life on something other than money. Build it on God, because that's not going to come crashing down. It's something that's always there for you if your relationship ends, you lose your job, etc. Really, we're back to 'hope'. God gives us hope. Without hope, what's the point?

It's been a weird week. My daughter, Snap, my firstborn, my baby, finished her first set of provincial finals (gr10!) and came out as bisexual. Dude. I am SO FREAKING PROUD of her. She came out to me years ago, and I told her that it was fine with me and fine with her dad. She waited until after her very last PE class ever and then she did it on facebook by changing her "interested in" setting. It's definitely a 21st century world! And today, I registered Crackle in Kindergarten. (Already I don't like the principal. This does not bode well.)

I see God in my kids. My daughter and her amazing courage, her strong values and beliefs. My sons and their innocence and pure way of looking at things. I probably do build my life on the relationships around me rather than on God, but I think that's primarily because that's where I find God. In people. In the good things they do when they don't need to.