Ignorant People

The last few years have been pretty stressful for me. My separation and subsequent divorce generated emotional responses in me that, in retrospect, I should have questioned. My life was so lonely that I put up with a lot of shit from people.

I established and maintained friendships that were pretty much one way because something is better than nothing. The biggest issue here is when, as the old saying goes, you make people a priority who only regard you as an option or, in most cases, a last resort.

One of the manifestations of this breakdown in reciprocity is an astounding level of ignorance in communication. This runs the gamut from people not replying to texts to actually physically standing me up. In just one week, I was let down/stood up *with no explanation* four times by four separate people.

When something like that happens, you have to re-evaluate your approach to friendships. To be treated in such a cavalier manner by so many people in such a short span of time indicates that something is not right.

Here are some choice examples of people being ignorant:

No reply after that. Not a word in around two months now.

Are you going to text me that you can or can’t make it? No, why bother, eh? Over a month later, no reply.

This is probably my fave in that WhatsApp lets you see for sure that they’ve read the message. So, they read the message and just didn’t reply. Nothing since then, four months.

Bear in mind that I put these ones up because the senders’ identities are protected. I have more, sadly.

If any of these people had messaged and cancelled, for whatever reason, I’d be cool with that. Just let me know so I can go and make use of my time. It’s the sheer ignorance that galls me!

The major reason I put these up is to show that I didn’t chase after these people. In 2012, I would have, forgiving them time after time when they ignored me.

I won’t do that any more. I refuse to let myself be treated badly and I’m done with chasing people who patently don’t give a fuck about me.

It’s a process. I can do better. The trouble is, divorce is utterly devastating to self-esteem, possibly the biggest rejection a human can ever face. So, I have wobbly days where, foolishly, I miss people who don’t miss me. I’m lonely and start thinking things like, ‘Ooh, maybe I should text them? Maybe they just didn’t get five texts in a row! IT COULD HAPPEN!’

Then I take a breath and realise that I deserve better. I put the phone down and go and do something useful with my time, with people who are my actual friends.

The US Propaganda War ~ TV Division A-OK!

I’m currently watching the second ep of Intelligence, the new spy-fi TV series starring Josh Holloway as an agent with a chip implanted in his head. This wondrous chip connects him to the internet and allows him to be a walking Google but with access to all manner of restricted government data, satellites and presumably Xhamster.

It’s light, fluffy stuff, good to watch while you’re eating your tea. It has the same lack of emotional realism that is a hallmark of all modern US TV and most cinema. US TV is basically outrageously attractive people being cops, being doctors, being spies, being firefighters. Normal = ugly on TV, it cannot be shown.

The biggest problem though is the continuing divergence of US TV from any kind of embedding in current social or political reality.

The tough director of Holloway’s agency is grilling someone as I’m typing. She’s just told a suspect he better talk unless he “wants more blood on his hands.”


America is the country that murdered 1.2 million Iraqis in their bogus “war on terror,” a cover for their imperialistic adventures wherever they choose to invade and occupy. And this new American Empire fully intends to be permanent:

Few Americans had ever heard of a SOFA until earlier this year, when the Internet lit up with a revelation many observers of US foreign policy had long predicted. Despite repeated claims to the contrary, US officials were pressing the Iraqi government to accept an indefinite US military presence, including—and here was the shocker—up to 58 American bases on Iraqi turf.
(Source: Mother Jones)

America and specifically Obama is the country and President currently carrying out drone attacks.

During the course of their illegal, terrorist drone attacks, the USA has murdered at least 2,500 people.

Note that I don’t call them terrorist because there were no arrests, no trials, no weighing of evidence. The US just thought they looked a bit funny so they murdered them. No law applies to the US, they murder with impunity.

Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International issued a pair of reports in October fiercely criticizing the secrecy that shrouds the administration’s drone program, and calling for investigations into the deaths of drone victims with no apparent connection to terrorism. In Pakistan alone, TBIJ estimates, between 416 and 951 civilians, including 168 to 200 children, have been killed.
(Source: Huffington Post)

I’m sure those 200 children they blew to bloody bits were dangerous terrorists. Probably crazy Islamists, eh?



Does *anyone* outside the US swallow this horseshit any more? Really?

On US TV, the grandest and most successful propaganda vehicle ever built, every week brings a new threat to world peace from Muslims or Russians or Chinese but never, ever from the the biggest terrorists in the world today: the USA.


I realised tonight that nowadays I’m only happy when I’m dancing.

Should I be worried that the rest of my life is pretty grey?

Or should I be grateful that I’m happy at all? So many people are never happy, I’m lucky to experience joy.

Tonight, when TSSF came on, I was so happy. I was in a little, safe cocoon of joy that the thought of being sad didn’t exist, the concept wasn’t in me. I felt light, like I could jump over mountains.

My mates were round me, we were dancing and singing and shouting and punching each other occasionally. It was awesome fun.

When I shouted:

I’m trying hard
Real hard
Everyday not to lose my temper.

It was truer than I can explain with words. Sadness and anger twist and turn around each other. This confuses me. But then I remember I’m angry at myself.

Home now, the weight returns to my shoulders and every day it gets a little heavier.