How asleep we must be to need children to wake us.
Bless Greta Thunberg and our lesser known Canadian activist Autumn Peltier for somehow managing to accomplish what adult activists only wish they could.
I’ve spent the better part of five years attempting to awaken the sleeping masses to a number of very real concerns without success. I even wrote a book which I hoped would get parents and young adults thinking about big picture issues. It did not fly because nonfiction must either be written by a PHD or a celebrity for it to have any value in the publishing world. David Suzuki has the whole package and yet the masses, politicians, and corporations somehow continue to ignore his words as well, despite the fact he has won awards, written 87 books, and has been talking about all this for about 60 years.
If David Suzuki couldn’t stop the insanity, I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on myself for failing miserably as well.
He was a participant in what I call the golden age of activism: the 1960’s and seventies which laid the groundwork for the equal rights and equal opportunities which we enjoy today. This same generation also taught the American government that high body counts and collateral damage in their endless conflicts would not be tolerated.
Oh sure, various anti-pollution measures were a direct result, as was the green movement, but these were not enough to save today’s young people from what is to come in their lifetimes. Sadly, it takes a crisis with an impending disaster before people will get off their asses and do something about it. We all should know what was going on in the American South in the sixties, unless our education systems have completely failed. There was a public outcry and outrage; the only things politicians worry about.
Where did all the hippies go and why aren’t we living in a loving, clean, sustainable Utopian world fifty years later?
Some “dropped out”; many joined “the establishment”, but most ended up working for “the man” absorbed by society: having babies, buying houses and cars. . . leading busy productive successful lives—living the unsustainable consumerism dream.
Their grandchildren are doing it all again.
Hopefully, these so-called kids will get it right by seeing how we all failed.
You go, girls.
P.S. If you have any advice for me or David, we’re all ears.
It’s no secret I despise the flawed technology everyone else seems fine with. Even while writing this blog I had to deal with a sketchy Internet connection which wasted the better part of an hour of my life; an hour I cannot get back as with all the hours spent online doing what we authors are told is necessary.
This Sunday I will be pulling the plug on facebook forever; not merely deactivating—not just taking a break—but deleting my account.
Why would an author or writer ever do this when “experts” tell us we should be on social media to create a following which may lead to people reading our blogs who then might decide to buy our books? Should, may, and might are words used by politicians and other con-men to dupe the unsuspecting, the uninformed, and the gullible. I am none of those any longer. I did however willingly join in the lie of social media five years ago, and stayed two years longer than I planned. Perhaps this was out of a false sense of loyalty to relative strangers on the Internet, or it’s possible I’m more of an egotist than I thought. Maybe solitude finally got to me? Nah. I’ll let you know if and when I figure it out.
Many of the people I’m leaving behind were kind and supportive and they have all been thanked for their encouragement along the way.
Some shared my warped sense of humour and we had some laughs. These people will be missed. Just like childhood friends, former co-workers, or old neighbours, they are genuine when they say you will be missed, but they will get busy with their lives and soon forget about you. It is the way of things.
I have been a harsh critic of social media and facebook a.k.a fakebook a.k.a. flakebook in particular, for its practices i.e. privacy, data collection, and mental conditioning algorithms. I realize now my preaching abstinence there was as effective as a priest giving a sermon on morality in a whorehouse.
It felt hypocritical and it’s time to cut the cord.
I hope my remaining facebook friends, who might stumble across this, find the peace and joy I once had and am attempting to get back in touch with again.
I am so sick of computers and everywhere they take us.
Being a writer means being married to your computer. Things are made worse if you are a published author because you also have long term commitments to social media and publishing sites. My almost one-year-old Dell is an evil wife. She has melted down twice in the short time we have been together; a RED FLAG if ever there was one. So why continue to put up with the daily torment of weak WiFi, boggy performance due to updates and background processes, and the general stupidity of the online world when there is little or no money in it?
I can do other things.
The real question is: What other things can I do which don’t involve computers? I could reinvent myself once again as a post modernist painter. I might use my initials to create a new artist identity: Ethan Alfonso? It has an artsy ring to it. I could add a hook as well: All Alfonso’s are painted in the nude. Post modernist erotic portraits of lonely housewives and divorcées, painted by a still pretty hot naked guy, should get me laid more than writers do. The fee for such commissioned portraits would certainly exceed what I make as a writer; perhaps several times over. For a tiny initial investment—far less than book publishing—I could whip off a bunch of samples to lean against the walls of my apartment for prospective clients to peruse; perhaps over wine, if they are hot. I could sell some works beach-side while working on my tan. Once summer ends here, I can move into a spacious van and travel to various beach communities down South, chasing the warmth of the sun, and making Canadian winters something I don’t do anymore.
What’s the worst that could happen?
It’s possible I might be killed by a jealous husband, but this has always been my preferred check-out plan anyway.
Sounds like a worthwhile endeavour to me.
Where is that art supply store?
I’d Google it, but this hunk of junk Dell—soon to be ex wife—sucks harder than the vacuum of space during a hull breach on the Enterprise.
How to write the ultimate GO F-CK YOURSELF email to a cowardly ex who denies you closure by going into hiding.
Yeah, I wrote an email like this, and I would do it again if ever I am stupid enough to fall for another selfish narcissistic sociopath who refuses to make a call to end things properly.
Why do this?
It is simple really, you need to get the rage out, and this is infinitely better than burning their stuff in the backyard. The neighbors look at you even more weirdly than normal when you do such things. More importantly, this allows you to process their evil deeds, and the pain you are feeling through carefully chosen words when a long relationship ends horribly. In other words, this is one method of speeding up the recovery process when you have had enough of their bullshit. IT IS ALL ABOUT YOU and your wellbeing. Don’t be polite; they weren’t, and they will not suddenly start appreciating you if you take the high road now. It is time to sink to their level to get through to them. THEY BROUGHT THIS ON THEMSELVES. At times like this, it is not narcissism—it is a survival mechanism.
Essentially, we are aiming to hook them, call them out, and then crush them like the cockroaches they revealed themselves to be.
To use this article as a template, ideally (and sadly) you would need to have experienced lies, deception, and betrayal which led to you ending a relationship. This is not about revenge. No, this goes deeper. This is about retribution which factors sin into its meaning.
The first line needs to grab their attention, and spark their curiosity so they will continue reading.
Don’t scare them off with a nasty first line; appeal to their humanity in case they have any. Aim to create guilt and remorse whether they are capable of feeling those or not. Go with something like:
Hey, remember me? The person you won’t talk to who. . .
You then add a reasonable number of important things you did for them—the more life-altering the better.
In the next section, you want to point out why you felt compelled to write to them.
You want to subtly shift from continuing to pile on the guilt to pointing out how their spinelessness forced you to take this action.
I really thought you would step up and talk to me at least one final time. But no, as with every decision you make, you chose poorly once again. You probably will never tell me the whole truth to help me with closure, and even if you did, I would have a hard time believing any of what you might say.
This mild slap in the face will show them how low your opinion of them has become.
Next, remind them how you had noticed their suspicious behavior for some time, and then shift to the possible conclusions you have reached as a result of their lack of communication.
You can get nasty here. It’s character assassination time. (Woohoo!) You could begin with questions:
Are you on drugs? Are you having a mid-life crisis of epic proportions? Did you fail to take your meds? Are you attempting to sleep your way into money and security rather than working for it? Were you dropped on your head as a baby? etc.
Personally, I prefer statements. You could begin with:
Now that I know the depths of your depravity and duplicity, I think the following are probable:
Your list can be “on the money” or you can take “creative liberties”. You get the idea. Have some fun with it, while making it clear what a loathsome piece of crap you now see them as. Also indicate how you will continue to believe all of these possible truths until such time as they explain their actions.
Add an image of how you now view them for a more dramatic effect.
You could (or perhaps should) go straight to a porn site for an impactful and distasteful image which exemplifies your view of them. Other possibilities might include images of various STDs from a medical book. I went with a less vulgar illustration myself, but it’s your call.
If they have made it this far, it is time to write your heart out.
Admit you weren’t perfect while driving the stakes in. Take a little responsibility while showing how minor your character flaws are when compared with theirs.
I always wanted what is best for you, and it was out of love and caring that. . .
Show how their behavior has left you pitying them. This, of course, presumes you truly know their history or pathology and were not lied to about everything.
It’s sad—so sad—you are incapable of true love and gratitude. I blame. . .
Don’t be afraid to make unfavorable comparisons with your previous exes or especially people you know they dislike.
My other exes had some class and most knew at least a little of what is appropriate decent behavior. You are a total hypocrite. You slander [Insert name here.] while behaving even worse.
Dive into decency, morality, scruples, ethics. . . whatever you can sink your teeth into which best fits their behavior.
A soft warm up to your closing statements is next.
You could use a bulleted list.
I am sad for me for being duped.
If there are children involved, you could add:
I am sad for [Child’s name.] because he/she will most likely be raised by the likes of you two.
I am sad for your new significant other if you manage to get your claws into their heart, or on the keys to their house and vehicles, or worst of all, access to their bank accounts, insurance policies, and will.
And yes, I am sad for you as well, because despite all my efforts to repair the damage done to you, your ability or willingness to retain anything new is abysmal. You will continue on YOUR CHOSEN PATH, unconsciously following your base programming, and this trail will not lead to happiness. On the upside, I have finally figured out my fatal flaw. No one can fix you. Only you can do that, once you trade in self-obsession for self-awareness.
It’s important you leave them to the end of the list so it ties in with the big finish.
Enough of the body blows, it’s time to close with a throat punch because punching the heartless in the chest is pointless.
Here’s an idea for you:
At the end of most of my relationships, I would usually say farewell or good luck in your future. It would be disingenuous of me to say either of these to you because I know Karma is going to tear you a new one over what you have done. YOU ARE SO F-CKED!
I will just say goodbye.
Did it work?
In my case it did. I got most of the poison out. She confirmed the magnitude of her deception and offered up a lame apology. Regardless, it was enough for me to shed any residual affection and desire . . . allowing me to quickly move on to healthier greener pastures.
I can’t wait to see the comments on this post. I expect the miscreants to be outraged, and every person who has dealt with betrayal to love it. We will see.
You are the 1%–the morally bereft industrialists, bankers, spiritual leaders, and mega-corp board members who view the world and its people as THINGS to be exploited and controlled. You are not likeable, but we labour not for the 50% we give to you, but for the remainder which allows us a few simple pleasures. You limit what we can know, and yet we still manage to find out more than you would like. YOUR scientists and politicians put on quite a show through YOUR media. They keep many of us spinning, but not all of us. Your arrogance has blinded you to a few simple truths.
We tolerate your presence among us because we crave security and peace of mind in our small work-a-day lives.
We see you destabilizing economies. We see your security states. We see how you cultivate conflicts. We see you attacking our Constitutions. We see you passing laws to benefit only yourselves. We see you feverishly working to divide us. We see you killing. We know you envisage a world without us, but we also know you cannot DO for yourselves. We know about many of your safe havens. Who do you think built them?
You need us . . . or at least some of us.
And herein lies your problem. NONE of your assets are maintenance free. Not a single one. If you examine each of them closely, you will see at least a small crew of work-a-day people who possess specialized skills and knowledge that you do not. Your architects, designers, builders, and landscapers create your dream, but they don’t maintain it. There are the lawn and garden people; the pool, sauna, and hot tub people; the chimney, fireplace, roof, and eves people; the security, cable, satellite, electronics, electrical, plumbing, and appliance people; the driveway, patio, helipad, and tennis court people . . . You get the idea, and this is just the tip of the iceberg.
You are surrounded by us and always will be.
We are the working class and you cannot maintain your lavish lifestyles without literally hundreds of us. You are reliant on each of us. We feign friendliness and loyalty, but never assume you can buy all of us. Each of us share a different morality than yours. We still feel sympathy and empathy towards our fellow humans despite your attempts to program these out of us on YOUR social media sites. Yes, we picked up on this too.
You are grossly outnumbered and scared of us. We get that.
Perhaps, it is time you consider how easy it would be for us to get to you if we were to be incensed by the loss of our friends and loved ones. You can vet us all you want–hand picking us–but there will always be one of us near you who is waiting for the right moment.