Archive for the Uncategorized Category

Getting better at getting better at doing stuff

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on January 2, 2014 by idnami

2013 was the year maturity finally descended on me, like a heavy blanket. I don’t know what it was, but on my 36th birthday I felt that I left childhood behind, or that adulthood caught up with me, or something. Anyway, I started to feel like it’s about time to take some shit seriously.

I’ve never been a terribly methodical person. I tend to accomplish big, audacious things in fits of blazing inspiration, intuitively dancing my way through a project, never exactly knowing what I’m doing, just that I have a vision that demands to be manifested. And I’m damn good at doing things that way. I’m good at leaps of faith, problem solving on the fly, dodging obstacles that loom directly ahead with Jedi-like reflexes. I’m good at daring creativity, tempting fate, getting my way.

Maybe more like Cat Woman. Yeah, that’s me right there.

What I have not been very good at is building things that last, being consistent, thinking ahead and making long-term plans. This is the shift in thinking that has begun to signal my emergence into grown-upedness, in that I’m actually starting to gravitate towards long-term goalmaking rather than my usual spectacular flash-in-the-pan style.

Of course, it occurs to me that this shift may itself be a flash in the pan, another of my big ideas that will become a momentary obsession until I get sidetracked by another big idea and let it fizzle out. Give me another month and I may be writing that I am selling off all my stuff and moving to a third world country to help build roads or something. But, for the time being, I am toying with and meditating upon adopting some better thinking and planning habits. I read this article on goals vs systems, and I think it is a good approach to what I’m trying to do.

So, everyone gets all retrospective and self-examinatory at this time of year. I tend to avoid that kind of thinking, and never make New Years resolutions because they are really made to be broken so what’s the point? But, having had the benefit of a nine day vacation with a pretty even mix of socializing and total solitude, drunken partying and quiet contemplation, some basic changes to the way I operate have started to appeal to me. So, here is a list of my intentions for the upcoming year. Not resolutions, not goals, but intentions. As I will, so mote it be.

#1. Stay focused on education. 

Discovering that university-level education on pretty much any damn thing I could want to learn is available for free online  absolutely blew my goddamn mind. I’ve always wanted to study English Literature, and I found a major course of study on it. But here’s the kicker: it costs nothing, and therefore if I’m flighty and uncommitted I lose nothing. Don’t get me wrong, this is great! But the problem with a butterfly like me being handed an absolute mind-boggling smorgasbord of free, open education could mean I do nothing but dabble and never get anywhere. I started English, and then realised that I could also take French, which has been a goal of mine for years since I wasted my high school opportunities in that direction by paying no attention whatsoever and flunking spectacularly. But wait! If I take Philosophy as well then I can have WAY better arguments with my friends who study it. But… holy shit! Business Admin! that’d be useful wouldn’t it? And… and… and…

Dude, you’re a writer. Stick to English. And French. And just do the Philosophy minor maybe. There are only so many hours in a day and you still have to sleep. I will commit to at least 1 hour of study, at least 5 days a week. Yeah I know it’s not much but some of us have jobs, and other stuff we want to do, like…

#2. Commit to better nutrition and fitness.

This sounds dangerously close to a resolution but I tend to go in cycles. In the summer I’m extremely active. I bike at least 2 hours most days, eat fresh, healthy foods, drink lots of water, etc. In the winter I become a lazy, self indulgent bastard. I cannot (will not!) tell you how much butter I’ve managed to go through in the last week alone, never mind all the cookies, roast fowl, heavy desserts and cheese. God, so much cheese. I’m not sure when I last ate a vegetable that wasn’t cooked in duck fat or a fruit that wasn’t encased in cake or pastry. Or bacon. Bacon wrapped apples are amazing. And so is chocolate covered bacon. Mmmm, bacon.

I love you, too.

I generally wind up spending the first half of the summer working off the previous winter’s pudge, and this year is going to be more challenging than most if my current waistline is any indication. The snow won’t be melting anytime soon. So, not with the goal of losing weight, but of incorporating better habits as a lifelong lifestyle, I’m going to simply look for ways of moving more and eating better. The goal being that if I still want to eat an occasional bag of chips I won’t see the evidence accumulating to an unmanageable degree. I will dance more, walk further, swing the goddamn kettle bell until I can go up to a heavier weight, eat salad, drink water and so on. And I won’t push too hard to place undue pressure on myself to achieve, since whenever I do that I always burn out and wind up backlashing by sitting around for a week and a half with a bunch of cookies in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

#3. Write more.

If you scan through my blog it illustrates really nicely how flighty and inconsistent I can be. I’ll write things in clusters, lose my motivation for a month or two, then write again on wildly varying subjects. Impressively, I appear to have gained a following somehow. When I look at my site traffic it has increased a lot in the last year, steadily except for the massive spike when one post went viral, which would have been neat had I thought the writing was actually any good. But now I average about 40 hits a day when I haven’t written anything new lately and a couple hundred when I have. Not bad! But I want more. Lots more. So I have to hone my craft, write every day even if I don’t post it, keep on with my English studies to improve my skills and give me new ideas, and publish a new post at least every two weeks without fail, every week if possible. And shamelessly self-promote, which means getting better at using social media besides Facebook.

So these are my plans, not only for the coming year, but forever. This is a scary proposition for a commitophobe like me, but I think I can handle it. Eventually I will finish English and be fluent in French. Then maybe I’ll learn Spanish or piano or winemaking. But my biggest intention is to avoid becoming distracted by every shiny thing that twinkles by. There will be days when I say “fuck it” and watch cartoons instead of working out or go dancing instead of study, cuz dammit I’m not that grown up, and never plan on being. This is not commitment to some boring old concept of self-improvement so much as focusing on the things I love (books, writing, getting read, looking good in a short skirt) and getting what I want out of life. Not what I’ve been told I should do or have but what I want. And I’ll do it on my own terms. They’ll just be better, smarter terms. I’ll keep you all posted on how that goes. Weekly, or close to.

Unless I move to Australia and take up surfing.

Fuck it. Yeah. Totally surfing.


How to not fuck up a relationship

Posted in just opinionated, Uncategorized with tags , on November 26, 2013 by idnami

black heart

Some time ago I ran across this article  which I thought was brilliant for many reasons. I shared it on Facebook and the two biggest complaints I got were a) it was too long and wordy and b) it had to do with feminism which certain men’s rights types claim oppresses men.

The latter complaint I will disregard as I think the men’s rights movement is largely woman-hating bullshit and I don’t have time to cater to those guys. I wouldn’t want them dating any woman I know so they can keep on fucking up their relationships all they like, till they breed themselves right out of the population.

The former I can get down with, as most of us are cruising the net while procrastinating at work. So here I’ll try to condense some of those ideas and a few others in 1500 words or less.

WARNING: The following is written from a fairly heteronormative female perspective as I am a (mostly) straight chick who (mostly) dates guys, and this stuff largely comes from my complaints in my past relationships.

It’s also geared toward romantic relationships. However, it’s pretty good advice for any gender and sexual orientation in any type of relationship as it’s mostly about treating yourself and other humans decently.

But it’s also kind of bitchy, cuz I’m like that.

Most men I associate with are not assholes who think women are meat puppets to be used and thrown away, or kept around and disregarded. They are largely caring, intelligent people. However many of them seem bewildered by the women they try to get close to. So here are a few tips that would at the very least have helped a few dudes I’ve dated.

1. The whole jerks vs. nice guys thing is bullshit.

Straight up. All you “nice guys” who can’t figure out why the women you’re attracted to all seem to gravitate toward dickbags, ask yourself this question: How boring am I?

That sounds awful I know, but speaking as a woman who has a lifetime of dickbag dating behind her, I can tell you that if all you have going for you is “nice” you don’t stand a chance.

The appeal of jerks is that they tend to keep things interesting and engaging, if only on a negative level. Every asshole I ever loved, I loved because he made music or art or poetry and deeply gave a damn about his legacy to the world.

 Do you live life passionately? Do you care about anything that matters? Do you have anything to offer, to interest her, to set her on fire? Or are you just inoffensive?

If you answered no to the first three questions and yes to the fourth, don’t bow your head in defeat just yet. Understand that relationships, like life, require more than simply breathing to maintain. If all you do is work and watch TV, why would you want someone to share that with? Do you really find it all that satisfying yourself?

If yes, eventually some boring woman may flop down next to you on the couch and you can spend your lives together in vegetative bliss. If no, what are you waiting for to do what fulfills you? If you want a woman who inspires you, you have to inspire her. So get off your ass and go be inspirational, or quit bitching. Do it for yourself first and watch your life transform in more ways than one.

The moral: Complete yourself. No one else can do it for you. 

2. You are 50% responsible for your relationship’s state of emotional wellness.

So let’s assume that you have successfully incorporated tip #1 and a fascinating, complex woman has fallen in love with you, or is at least interested. Good job! Do you expect things never to go wrong? Or a better phrasing might be, are you completely gobsmacked when things inevitably do go wrong? Uh oh.

Look, it’s gonna happen. One of you will step on the other’s toes at some point. If she does it to you, you may get hurt or mad. Can you express that openly and maturely? Passive aggressiveness is bullshit, don’t do that. But so is blame and accusations.

Try to find a middle way where you can name the action and its effect on you without making it a judgement on her. If she’s a decent person, she will do what she can to make it better. This skill may take time to develop for both of you, but it is a skill. 

So what if you step on her toes? What if she’s upset about that? One of the biggest problems I’ve had in relationships is, female hurt or anger tends to freak guys right out. And quite often in my experience they will immediately focus on the way I’ve expressed myself rather than what I’ve expressed.

I do consider it important to express these things in a non-threatening way for best results. However if she happens to cry or be visibly angry without being abusive, do not use her emotional expression as an excuse to dismiss her. Don’t attempt to rationalize or minimize your actions thinking that if she only understands why you did what you did she won’t be mad anymore. It doesn’t work that way.

Do apologize sincerely first.  I recommend this to everyone. You may not have meant to hurt or upset the other person. You may think they shouldn’t feel the way they do. But guess what? They do, and as a caring partner your job is to try to rectify your own part in causing it.

Apologize first, explain later, and for God’s sake don’t go into hiding because you aren’t comfortable with displays of emotion. Learn to deal with the discomfort head on. You will grow as a person and your relationship will grow too. I promise.

The moral: Make it better, not worse.

3. Take space if you need it, but don’t disappear. And don’t be jealous and clingy either.

Let’s say you’re dealing with the above scenario and don’t trust yourself to have the conversation in the moment. Or maybe there are questions about the direction of the relationship that you don’t feel prepared to answer. Don’t allow yourself to be pressured into having an immediate conversation you aren’t ready for. The results will never be good.

So, step back, take a few hours or days, think hard about the question or issue. But don’t take forever about it. If someone has presented you with a problem you helped cause, you need to do your part to fix it in a timely manner. Don’t assume it will go away if you ignore it long enough. It will grow.

Similarly, if you’re being asked to make a commitment or state your intentions, this is a defining moment in the relationship. Refusal to answer the question is in itself an answer. If you let that hang, she will draw her own conclusions and you will wake up alone one day. But, do take your time exploring your feelings before answering, lest you be forced to backpedal later.

On the other hand your partner also needs space. Don’t try to make another person compensate for your insecurities. If you’ve been cheated on or deceived in the past it’s reasonable to fear that happening again. However acknowledge that your choice to be with this person needs to be based on a reasonable faith that they won’t. So treat them like it.

The Moral: Balancing sharing and privacy is healthy!

4. Don’t be an asshole.

Evaluate your maturity level. Fucking and chucking is not ok. Mind games are not ok. Punishing another person for hurting you instead of working toward positive change is not ok. Sticking them on a shelf is not ok. Comparing them to a past lover is not ok. Dating someone but only caring about your own needs? So not ok.

If you’re looking for a punching bag, step away from Plenty of Fish and go to the gym. If you’re looking for someone to prove something to you, prepare to be disappointed. If you’re looking for someone to make you happy, you are missing the point. If you are looking for someone to share happiness with, you’re headed in the right direction.

The moral: Give good to get good.

Above all, remember that we are all struggling human beings who make mistakes. Honestly admit to your own and be as forgiving to the other as you would want someone to be to you.

A letter from a bird

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on July 23, 2013 by idnami


Hawks are circling me.

Since I’ve been working as a print production coordinator I see them every day, sometimes as many as 7 at once. Initially they were just lazily soaring blips in the sky. I started carrying binoculars with me so I could get a better look.

A little over a month ago I posted on Facebook that one had flown by so close I saw it poop. A friend of mine responded wondering about the significance of these birds being in my life. I responded by saying that the area around my new job abounded with ground squirrels, which is what they eat, so that was probably why.

Of course I do have a solid occulty/shamanistic/witchy streak that wanted there to be greater significance but at the time I was trying to be pragmatic.

Since then it feels increasingly like they are trying to get my attention. They’ve been getting closer and closer, so that I could clearly see their beak shape and wing markings. Finally the other day one was circling the parking lot when I was outside. It was gliding very slowly and finally hovered directly over my head for a moment, not 5 feet above, right between me and the sun.

The light shone through its wing feathers. I could see individual spots in the patterns of its markings, imperfections where the feathers were a bit ragged along the edges of its wings. Its shadow must have looked like a mask over my face. It hovered perfectly still for a long moment before gliding away.

And I said to it, “Ok, I’m listening. Can I have a feather to confirm?”

Now at this point I should mention that this isn’t the first relationship of this type I’ve had with birds. It happened with eagles one summer. Ironically despite about eight or nine sightings I never recognized what they were, I thought they were hawks! It got to the point where one visited me in a dream. It spread its wings out and turned its head to one side like the E Pluribus Unum symbol on the U.S. dollar bill. It was as if it was saying. “Eagle. EAGLE. Get it?”

Not a hawk.

Not a hawk.

The high point of that time was riding my bike around the reservoir when this great swooshing shadow flew over my head close enough that it ruffled my hair. I stopped and looked back and there was a massive golden eagle (which I still didn’t recognize! I had to look it up after) perched on a chain link fence. I very gently set my bike down and slowly approached it. When I was about 10 feet away it flicked a wing at me as if saying, “That’s close enough.”

I stood looking at it for a long time. It sat perfectly still on the fence. Several minutes passed and I was beginning to contemplate leaving the bird in peace and continuing my ride. Then it spread its wings and swooped directly toward me. Before I could do more than flinch it snatched a mouse from the grass three feet in front of me and gobbled it whole before flying back to the fence. It was so close I could see the mouse’s tail whip around in the bird’s talons and hear it scream.

So that was really cool. Especially when I read that golden eagles tend to be highly intolerant of humans.

Anyway back to here and now and the hawks.

I collect feathers. The oldest one I have is an owl feather that was given to me by a Seneca pipe carrier named Jenny Running Wolf when I was 16. Every time I am honoured with a new feather, life changes in interesting ways.

Anyway, the very next day after asking Hawk for a feather, what do you think I found under a tree, sparkling with raindrops from a shower that had passed leaving a radiantly blue sky? A 10 inch long wing feather of course!

Now, as I said I have tried to be pragmatic in my thinking. In an area that abounds with hawks one is not unlikely to find a feather sooner or later if one keeps their eyes open. Could still be pure coincidence right?

That evening I met my boyfriend in a park for a picnic. I’d been keeping him updated about the hawks because we are both kind of nature geeks. So I pulled out the feather to show him. And at that moment who comes soaring over the trees? Yup. My new friend Hawk.

Of course my more skeptical readers will continue to insist that this is all coincidence and that birds don’t talk to people. And this is because they have no imagination.

However, in case I were still inclined to doubt, yesterday I was doing tarot readings at a carnival. An absolutely delightful woman from the spoken word scene happened to be here. Her name is Orunamamu. She is black with the awesomest southern accent and a silver star on her tooth that flashes when she talks. She wears eccentric clothing and crazy hats and is about 80 years old. Her business card says “Storyteller/Raconteur” and she is just the most fun old lady ever. I want to grow up to be just like her.

She sat down at my table to rest and without any kind of preamble she grabs my hand and says, “If you ever find a feather, a soft and tickly feather, pick it up! Put it in your pocket. A feather is a letter from a bird!”

I threw back my head and laughed at that… and saw a graceful, soaring shadow cross the sun.

Psychic: What it is and what it ain’t.

Posted in Uncategorized on July 8, 2013 by idnami

So apparently some people don’t read very well. A number of people not only missed the final admonition of my last post, but also the entire point of that article, and pelted me with smug demands for proof or cited Sylvia Browne’s incorrect reading of Amanda Berry’s death as though that discredits the entire subject.

I don’t remember saying I wanted skeptics to take me seriously. I believe what I said was I’d really like opinionated motherfuckers to mind their own goddamn business and not feel the need to air their cleverness every time ideas they personally don’t credit come up. That was my argument. Not, “Psychics are the real deal.” But, “Please put a cork in your tiresome noisehole and show some respect for a differing viewpoint.”

Regardless of any arguments to the contrary, I’ve experienced the world in a certain way my entire life. I really don’t appreciate being told that my experience of the world is invalid. And if you think it is, again, shut the fuck up. I seriously don’t care.

I had to get that off my chest. What follows is some personal experiences with this ability, including benefits and problems, and some “anecdotal evidence.” Also why Sylvia Browne being wrong about Amanda Berry may be the result of compassion rather than charlatanism.

Upon careful reading, everything below is all over the goddamn map. I could write a whole post about any topic I address here, but I just want to be done with this post because I there’s other stuff I want to write about.

So, my personal experience has been since early childhood that I caught on to things many others did not. I never thought there was anything abnormal in my level of perception. I thought everyone else was playing dumb, because it was explained to me very early on that there are some things that aren’t polite to talk about, like a person’s weight.

So I really didn’t think about it too much and whenever someone looked at me funny for something I said, I figured were were in “That’s rude” territory and not, “How the fuck did you know that?” territory.

Part of this can be attributed to an extreme sensitivity to body language, microexpressions, minute changes in vocal inflections etc. There is nothing supernatural about this.

I really don’t like the word “supernatural” at all. Nature is nature. Nothing violates the laws of nature, even things we find difficult to explain because they perhaps run on laws we aren’t yet familiar with. All of our knowledge of natural law could fit on a tiny speck spinning around a much larger speck which is itself dwarfed by a great multitude of other specks all separated by unfathomable distances in fucking space! We haven’t even figured Earth out yet but you think you know something about the universe?

milky way

Ranting again. Sorry.

Anyway, I took up tarot and eventually went pro, because I tend to be right on most things. Not only in that vague “could apply to anyone” way but in pretty damn specific ways also. More on that later.

Every psychic’s talents run in different directions. For example, my primary ability is reading personalities. I can conjecture likely outcomes of situations based on the people involved and what they are likely to do. And sometimes I think I’m straight making shit up and wind up prophesying precisely what will happen. It’s fucking weird and even I don’t get why that is.

Other people are better at finding lost objects or missing people, something I am no good at. This brings me to another point.

Something people like to do a lot when a person claims psychic awareness is to demand that you provide perfect, detailed and flawless information and be 100% correct every time. The fact that nobody can do this does not, once again, mean we are all fakes.

It’s for the same reason you can’t run as fast as a cheetah or jump as high as Superman. Because we live in a body which imposes limits on your abilities for your own good. Imagine having to walk around knowing everything everyone was thinking and every detail of reality all the time. You’d go insane by age 3.

Which brings me to Sylvia Browne. I’m not a fan of her, but her misread of such a high profile case is a good example of a problem that any professional reader deals with. You will be wrong sometimes. Or you may be right but for one reason or other you feel it would be more harmful to tell than not to.

I am so glad I have never faced the terrified mother of an abducted child. Because let’s suppose that Sylvia actually knew that the girl was still alive, saw Amanda being repeatedly raped, held in a windowless room, giving birth to the child of the monster who imprisoned her. But what she can’t see is where or who has her.

 Do you tell that to a mother when you aren’t able to access the information to do anything about it? Give her even more reasons to be frantic for her daughter but nothing that can help?  So instead you say the girl is dead so the mother can have closure and if you turn out to be wrong and they are reunited, the result is only joy.


I want to be clear that I’m conjecturing here. I can already hear the barrage of frothing wrath that will come for even kinda sticking up for Sylvia Browne. But I maintain that whether she was wrong or simply lying about what she saw, she did less harm than she might have.

Because this is not an exact science. People want advice about things sometimes and you do the best you can and if you are talented you mostly help. But that can be a scary tightrope to walk at times.

Something does worry  me is when I actually do not know if I am being clairvoyant or telepathic. A client was being stolen from and generally messed with but she didn’t know who it was. While trying to get an answer out of the tarot the image of a green alligator kept popping into my head. It was really insistent and finally I said, “This is really weird but does a green alligator have any bearing on this situation?”

I am not a crook.

I am not a crook.

At this point I expected her to look at me like I was nuts but she said, “My niece collects alligator things. Figurines and stuffed toys and things like that. She’s around a lot because I live with her mother and she was wearing a green alligator t-shirt last time she was over. And she hates me.”

It was only sometime later that I wondered, what if I picked up on the woman’s suspicions about the girl and not the objective truth of the situation? If I was being clairvoyant right there, we nailed our man. If I was reading her mind I may have just strengthened completely unfounded suspicions and exacerbated family static.

But the girl sounded like a bitch to me, so I was probably right.

There is one experience which convinced me that I’m not all crazy and lucky guesses. Once I took an aura reading workshop. We were all given paper and crayons and told to draw the person at the front of the room. The instructor told us that we may all see different things and not to worry about it. This seemed to me like a strong argument in favour of this aura thing being bullshit.

I kept seeing this blue tornado shape over her head so I drew it. As far as I know no one was looking at anyone else’s drawings so it was really odd when 8 out of 12 of us all drew the same tornado thing. The best part was when it was my turn to be drawn I concentrated really hard on having horns growing out of my head. All but one person drew two little spiky projections on my head! And all of them called them antennae and speculated that I was the spiritual descendant of extra terrestrials because new agers are fucking crazy.

However, what I now know is that we have an energy field which extends well outside the physical body, that this can be perceived without special equipment, and that it can be manipulated at will. Also that if 11 out of 12 people see the same invisible thing, it’s probably there.

Here are some things that psychic is not. Don’t ask me to do any of these things:

Read your mind on command. Because fuck you.

Tell you the winning lottery numbers. Obviously if I knew that I’d be chilling on a beach made of diamond dust instead of droning in an office.

Provide perfect, complete information.

Guess your birthday or your address or any stupid parlour tricks like that.

Read you without my cards. I can sometimes do it but I am rambling and unfocused as hell.

Also don’t act as though my inability to do any of those things discredits the entire practice. If you can’t do calculus it doesn’t mean you can’t fill out a tax return or add up your purchases at a grocery store.

All of these are claims that many will scoff at, and that’s fair enough. However they are my experiences. I am either insane, or a liar, or the real goddamn deal. If you know me you know which of those is likely. If you don’t, I am prepared for your soundoffs in the comments.

Sorry guys, men are not a “special interest group” Part 1

Posted in Goddamn feminism again, just opinionated, Uncategorized on May 15, 2013 by idnami

Today I was reminded that men’s rights activism is a thing. A friend on Facebook posted a status denouncing people who engage in “fat shaming, slut shaming, rape jokes, homophobia, transphobia, and racism.” And I totally agree with her.

The comment thread was possibly the longest and most impassioned thing I’ve ever read… well, scanned. I don’t have that kind of time, even for amusing rhetoric. But the conversation seemed to revolve heavily around the tenets of Men’s Rights Activism.

For those of you who don’t know, MRA is a growing movement of men who are sick of feminist bitching and feel that things have gotten out of balance in favour of women. They have this big long mantra listing all the ways they are oppressed by society.

It makes me indignant. This is not because I don’t believe that some men do suffer spousal abuse, rape and discrimination. They totally do. What bugs me is that they feel the need to augment those very serious and valid problems with a laundry list of bullshit. Because it’s not bad enough that we can’t even create accurate statistics on rape because both male and female victims are too afraid or ashamed to report it, so let’s make some shit up to emphasize the victimhood of men by feminism.

People who have been violently assaulted, had their reputations ruined or lost their children unfairly to their co-parent have my absolute sympathy but the list below is overcompensating for a lot of things. So I present it with my rebuttals. In pink!

WARNING: Contains heavy sarcasm, stereotyping and bitchiness. Cuz I never said I was a role model.

• I need men’s rights because if she changes her mind the next day, I go to jail for 5-7 years;

The very next day? Without trial? Without a tedious, years-long crawl through the legal system? Without evidence? This is not to deny that a woman is capable of lying and some are bitches enough to lie about that, but few can keep it up through multiple court appearances. There are far more real victims who are terrified to step forward than bitches lying about rape. 

• I need men’s rights because I was the victim of abuse but nobody believed me;

See above. We have a shitty culture that blames and shames the victims. We all need to work on changing that.

• I need men’s rights because I am less likely to go to college, and if I do, I will make less money than my female contemporaries;

Did you just play some kind of screwy trick with statistics there? I think what you’re possibly getting at is that because more women are attending college the ratio of men to women is shrinking. Also because there are more women applying there are fewer spots available for men because we’re hogging them all up with our good grades and stuff. Guess you all better step it up. Don’t worry if you don’t make it. You can always find some absurdly well paid woman to support you.

• I need men’s rights because the president sees the shrinking number of men in colleges across America as “a great success”;

I can’t argue this statement at all because I’m Canadian. My national leader’s idea of great success is poisoning all the water, muzzling all the scientists, censoring the CBC and putting all the natives in jail.

• I need men’s rights because people question if I am a predator when I am alone with my child;

Most people I know think good dads are, you know, good. If mom getting a night to herself once in awhile means dad takes over the diaper changing for awhile you’ll be elbow deep in poopy before anyone questions anything. And I don’t mean that in some horrible pedophillic way.

• I need men’s rights because a man’s appearance, height, and weight has a greater affect on his income than it does for a woman;

This is plainly true. Everyone knows that the only reputable plumbers are tubby with hairy butt cracks.

• I need men’s rights because saying “it’s impossible to discriminate against men in our society” allows people to discriminate with impunity;

Kind of like saying “Feminists need to shut the fuck up” allows people to disregard us with impunity?

• I need men’s rights because traditionally masculine characteristics are virtues not flaws;

It depends which characteristics you mean and to what extent they define the person as a human being. There are many lovely manly virtues which if unbalanced turn into flaws pretty damn quick.

• I need men’s rights because the likelihood of my death coming by suicide is four times higher than it is for women, though I receive little support;

So, like, don’t kill yourself maybe? I know I sound like a dick there but that kind of thinking has kept me alive so far.

• I need men’s rights because it is not considered bigoted or sexist to deny me a male safe space at my college by those who have possessed their own safe spaces for decades;

I thought you weren’t going to college? Well if you do miraculously prevail against your feminist oppressors and get in I promise not to enter your stinky frathouse. Not even to clean it.

• I need men’s rights because it is assumed that a meeting of men in a male safe space is automatically going to devolve into hateful sexism and violence;

You guys could seriously win awards for sweeping overgeneralization. But considering that every men’s rights site I’ve ever seen has been peppered with hateful sexism, you may be right. And those assuming may have a point. But my friend Pat’s husband kicks her out every Friday night for his men-only poker game and so far no one has been ragemurdered. Yet.

• I need men’s rights because broad gender-wide slurs against men are socially accepted;

I’ll see your slurs and raise you dumb blondes, sluts, feminazis and the assumption that single mothers are all strippers or sucking their baby daddies dry to support their lavish lifestyles.

• I need men’s rights because my life, career, reputation and connection with my family can be easily destroyed by a single, false and anonymously whispered accusation;

Anyone’s could, dumbass.

• I need men’s rights because when women stumble blame rests on society, but when men stumble it is their fault;

When I stumble I blame it on my boyfriend for always leaving his stuff where I will trip over it. When he stumbles I say, “Serves you right. Now quit leaving your boots right in the doorway.” So yeah I guess that’s true.

• I need men’s rights because in my physically demanding career, I am expected to do much more work for “equal” pay;

Much more work than whom? Did you know, many women are quite capable of swinging a hammer just as hard as you? Unfortunately the typical male response to a woman picking up a hammer is along the lines of, “Whoa there little lady! Better put that down before you break a nail.” I’d advise you to get a cushy office job like I have, but your physically demanding one pays way more.

• I need men’s rights because it is fine to call me a “dick”, a “cock”, or a “prick” on the street or on television; a woman must never be called a “cunt”;

Try not to be such a pussy about it.

Believe it or not there are a whole bunch more, but I’ve taxed my readers’ attention span enough for one day.  To be continued!

Never Rape A Porcupine

Posted in Uncategorized on March 13, 2013 by idnami

The subject of rape prevention has been bouncing through my reality a lot in the past few months and making me want to smack someone in sheer indignation. Not only that we still live in a world where some men feel entitled to force themselves on women, but also that girls are largely not taught to defend themselves. I doubt we will ever live in a world without violence. It isn’t realistic even to hope for that. But why do we continue instilling the value of traditional femininity over the value of self sufficiency?

It occurs to me that I have a lot to be grateful to my mother for. She served in the military before I was born and she fears no man. Once a friend of hers was staying with us after leaving an abusive partner. The man showed up at our door with a rifle and demanded to see his wife. My mother noticed that the safety was on so she disarmed him, took the safety off and pointed it back at him.

I’ve also seen her forcibly remove a 250 pound man from her house for being disrespectful. Yeah, this is the woman who raised me. Consequently there is only one person in the world I’m scared of, and that is my little sister.



So, growing up with a mother who refused to wear a dress and put the fear of god into my male friends when I was a teenager, I get seriously impatient with women who did not have this advantage. I feel sorry for them but I also feel superior to them and this makes me a bastard.

So what is the solution? We can’t all have kickass military moms obviously. But I want to put this out to every parent in the world. Teach your sons not to be assholes and teach your daughters how to deal with assholes. Maybe tell them that being independent and strong is better than having perfect nails and hair. That would help.

But the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I wear dresses and lipstick and all that. I’m one hot number actually. And I like being pretty. But I pity the idiot who ever tries to attack me. In the face of domestic violence I have fought back with such force that I very much doubt that the guy will ever fuck with a woman again. I also have martial arts training so I really don’t know what he was thinking.

So, we can retain our feminine beauty if we like and still kick ass. I think it’s crucial that we do. The ass kicking part I mean. I think some women are scared that if they drop the victim act men won’t love them. It is not true. I get lots of love. Hot, steamy, sticky, passionate love.

I think self defense should be taught to girls in school. Honestly. Imagine how dramatically date rape stats would drop if every horny teenage boy knew for a fact that his prom date could break him with her bare hands.

But no, instead I get handy tips like not growing my hair and always checking my cab before I get in in case there is a rapist in there. Apparently the correct use of pepper spray is to hold it up and yell, “I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY!” Instead of, I dunno, spraying it. Who knew?

In the article I linked above there are some useful nuggets on how to physically deter a man bent on attacking you, and I do especially agree with the bit that says fighting back at all will deter a rapist because rape is not about sex, it’s about power. A rapist is a sad, sissy little coward that has to force himself on a woman to feel powerful.

Why should we fear a person so pathetic when a swift kick in the goolies will restore things to their proper balance? And by the way, that is the bit he has to expose in order to rape you! But instead of focusing on empowering ourselves to act, we are told not to walk the streets at night, not to have long hair, not to be compassionate. It doesn’t escape me that these tips come from actual rapists who are more than likely getting off on the fear and paranoia those tips instil in some women. How many criminals can continue attacking their victims from prison?

We need to stop thinking of ourselves as victims and start thinking of ourselves as dangerous to predators. Like porcupines, which are apparently delicious but just try taking a bite out of one.


And that is why guys don’t mess with me, because I’m a fucking porcupine.

I hurt Satan’s feelings

Posted in Rants, Uncategorized with tags , on January 6, 2013 by idnami

This is weird you guys.

So as I was writing my last post my lower back started to hurt quite intensely and I thought, “Wow, I have been sitting in this chair too long.”

By the following day my entire body hurt intensely and I began to experience uncontrollable convulsive shivers every time a cool breeze touched my skin. I’ve pretty much had to live in a hot bath ever since and now I am starting to feel better. But in the depths of my considerable delirium the thought came to me that Satan really doesn’t like it when you make fun of him. Here is how I think it went.

And the woman did write words of disdain and mockery and was proud and did giggle. And the Dark One was displeased and spake unto her saying, “Woman! I did work exceeding hard on that Zeppelin bit and thy words are mean and uncalled for. Thou shalt be taken to a place of great suffering and be made to suffer… um, greatly!”

And the woman did make her eyes big and caused her lower lip to protrude and tremble and she spake unto the Dark One saying, “Aaaaaawwwwwww! But I don’t like to suffer greatly!”

And Satan did glower and swish his tail impatiently and say, “Thy pouty face will avail thee not! Into the evil toolshed with you this minute young lady!”

And that is totally why I have felt all shitty ever since writing that post. Sorry Satan.

No really I mean it! Don't look like that! Who's a big, bad evil Satan? YOU is!

No really I mean it! Don’t look like that! Who’s a big, bad evil Satan? YOU is!

As if the Illuminati are Satanic. Goldman Sachs bought out Hell decades ago and everyone knows it.