Kill or be Kilt

So I'll skip the back story, explaining why one of the roomies was dressed up like a sexy blue smurf and why the other earns much mocking for wimping out and not wearing the bib overalls downtown and simply say that I went out in a kilt last night.

And yes, for the record, I went "full Scotsman".

That is half the fun of wearing a kilt after all. The slight naughtiness of it, the wind through your hair. Not to mention that we men look damned good kilted out. There's nothing girly about kilts!

What sucks is the fucking hypocrisy that kilt-wearing brings out in people.

For starters, as far as must Icelanders are concerned, Scots and only Scots can wear kilts. If anyone else kilts up, then they're crazy or gay or "trying to get attention" (which is what the guy wearing the neon-orange and green 80's track suit with the pink trainers, mullet, and big ol' Tom Sellec (?) mustache accused me off at Sirkus....black pot much?). Never mind that a guy can wear Levi's and cowboy boots and a duster even if he's not American, or a girl can sport a kimono or high-collared Chinese dress even if she looks like Hitler's wet dream. Kilts are apparently only for Scots.

Then there's the absolute hypocrisy of women who, if they were accosted on the streets by a drunk who flipped up their skirt and tried to fondle them, would attack said man,call the cops, and have him charged, but see nothing wrong with damn near ripping the kilt off of me on my way home from the bar. I mean WHAT THE FUCK!?

You want sexual harassment to be taken seriously? You want men to stop claiming that "she asked for it" because of what you wear? Then you have to follow the same damned rules.

In the teacher's lounge at the school I work at, they once gathered around the computer to watch a power-point thingy consisting of bag-pipe music and shots of kilt-induced wardrobe malfunctions. There's also a beefcake fire-fighter calender up on the wall, and a cartoon of a naked man being used to plow furrows in a field with his dick with the caption "Back when men were good for something".

I wouldn't mind this at all, really, if it wasn't for the fact that if I looked up some up-skirt shots on the communal computer or put up a poster of some half-naked chick draped over a car, I'd be accused of being sexually inappropriate or worse yet, they'd get on my case about klámveiðing or whatever its called.

Basically I think double standards, whether they favor men or women, suck ass and ought to be fought.

So leave my kilt alone. Seriously. Or I'll retaliate by ripping your top off and leaving you to walk home trying to hold it together so as not to expose yourself to the world.

"Do unto others" after all....

State of the Church

So this summer the roomies of me will be getting hitched.

I'm happy for them.

My gay and lesbian friends won't be.

They can't.

Oh, yeah, they can get "blessed", and have a formal civil union under Icelandic law.
But they can't get married.

Because a group of unelected religious twats have the power to decided, without public input, who can and can't get married.

Thanks to this decision, other churches, temples, what have you that are in favor of gay-marriage can't issue marriage licenses.

This pisses me off.

What pisses me off even more is the fact that anyone born in, or moving to Iceland is automatically registered as a member of the state church.

If you move to Iceland and you'r:

Hindu?- you're registered
Jewish?- you're registered
Muslim?- you're registered
Buddhist?- you're registered
Ásatrúar?- you're registered
Catholic?- you're registered
Atheist?- you're registered
Devout Follower of The Great Cthulu, Elder God of Madness, Devourer of Souls, Shatterer of Worlds, Howling Chaos from the Elder Deep?- yup, you're registered

And...just wait for it...

If you belong to any of these groups and have a child- they're registered

How ass-backwards is that?

Some guy from Turkey named Mohamed and they automatically register him as Lutherin?

On a personal note, every Cthulu-damned time I change my address, I have to go and change my registration back to civil so this archaic relic of an idiotic age doesn't get a cut of my money.

Fuckers.

I'd like to see these other religious organizations start "marrying" gays, applying for official marriage licenses, and raising hell if they don't get it.

Not likely I know. Icelanders have never been big civil disobedience or protest.

Just ask the Falun Gong, the only group that didn't get automatically registered.

They got kicked out en mass for protesting.

In the same vein...

Let's talk about killers dear blogadytes.

Not rank amateurs like that guy at Virginia Tech, or those two kids at Columbine.

Not even the pros, the sociopath sadistic killers like Bundy and Dahmer.

No my little blogadytes, let's talk about the really nasty motherfuckers.

They share a lot in common with the Bundys of this world. They're egotistical, care only about their own perverse needs and wants. They prefer to victimise the vulnerable: Single women (preferably poor), underclass children, minority youth, gays, the elderly, the poverty-stricken sick.
They like to make their victims' suffering last as long as they can. They feel no remorse, hell, most of the time they feel perfectly justified in what they do.

What separates them from the standard serial killer is two simple things. The first being that they rarely kill up front. They kill in the abstract, from a distance.

The second is scale.

They murder in the thousands, the tens of thousands.

The millions.

They kill the poor and uneducated, cannon fodder for their endless wars. They starve multitudes with sanctions they pass and let others wither slowly away without health care and housing and food they deny. They kill by fostering hatred , justifying parents chucking their gay sons and daughters out to die a slow death on the streets, or at their own hands. The hatred they plant makes sons go off to shoot other sons they have never met, who never posed any threat, because they worship a different god, or have skin of a different color. They feed the masses into unsafe factories, poison them with pollutants, let them choke to death on their own vomit and blood from diseases they themselves can be treated for. Let them freeze on the streets or starve in the slums.

And unlike the guy at Virginia Tech and the kids at Columbine, they don't kill for the sake of rage and pain and madness.

Unlike Bundy and Dahmer and that lot, they don't kill for perverse sexual thrills and their pure predatory nature.

They kill for power and money, the two sides of the seed that birthed the root of all evil.

And they'll keep on killing. With depleted uranium and poverty and drafts and "correction centers" and rising seas and broken levees and sweltering summers and the terror that they breed like careful herdsmen. They'll kill until the planet rots, until there's nothing left but one big radioactive crematorium.

Unless we rise up and stop them, or put them down.

The way these same fucking hypocrites put down Bundy.

At least Cho Seung-Hui had the decency to shoot himself afterwards...

Dystopia Now

They keep me working right up to curfew. Not like I can do anything about it.
I know I'm replaceable, and I need this job.

But now its after curfew.

So I leave my uniform on to walk home. The cops are supposedly less likely to hassle you if you're comin home from work.

Not that they ever don't hassle us. Guilty 'til proven innocent, that's us. They can tell just by lookin. We stand out.

So I take the backways, through alleys and avoiding street lights, even though I know there are cameras on every other wall, watching.

But for once I'm lucky, I make it back without getting picked up. There's no way my family and I can afford another fine, another court date for curfew violations. I'm so tired I fall asleep in my uniform.

The blare of the one of my alarms wakes me, the other spits out a radio broadcast. Some fat old elites talking about the problems "my kind" are causing society, how they need tougher laws to control us, punish us. I take a quick shower, trying to wash the stink of work out of my short hair. It used to be longer, but the new regs say no hair past the ears. I make sure to shave too. Facial hair is just asking for trouble. Put on a clean uniform, grab my gear and I.D. card, and head out.

I try to be first in line, sometimes they won't fuck with you if your cleaned up and courteous. I get through the metal detectors and the bag search, but then that guard who has it in for me hauls me aside for another pat down. He does this cause he doesn't like me, I'm not "model" enough apparently.

Plus it gives him a kick that every time he frisks me it fuels the rumor mill, makes me look "gay". That way I get my ass kicked without him ever lifting a finger. It pays off for him right away. As soon as he let's me through, the "trustees" in their matching jackets round on me, callin me a queer and a fag. "Having fun with your boyfriend, faggot?" barks the biggest of them, hypocritical gold cross glinting under his collar. I see the punch coming, and try to duck, only succeed in protecting my face, but his next shot hits me in the gut. I know better than to fight back. I'll get the blame, he'll get a stern lecture and a pat on the back when no ones looking.

He walks off, laughing and high-fivin. I catch my breath and limp down the hall. I sit down just as the doors lock. Try to listen to the droning "education", but I gotta pee, the shot to my gut must of loosened up the bladder. I'd ask for a pass, but I know this guy won't give me one. He'll make me wait. If I had a trustee's jacket, he'd let me out no prob. But I'm never getting one of those jackets. Not big enough, not rich enough, no chance to kiss all the important asses, no one on the outside important enough to pull for me.

So I hold it, teeth swimming 'til its time to go out to the exercise yard. Line up. Synchronised jumping jacks, push ups, the usual uniform shit. Then they decide that today we're gonna play football. Some of the muckitymucks are watching, they'll enjoy it. So its me and the other runts against the trustees, except for the two they stick on our side for shits and giggles. The other team wipes the field with us, throwing in punches and kicks and clothes lines, all part of the game. Then the showers, the two trustees stuck on our side beat the shit out of a guy one fourth their combined size for dropping a pass and "making them loose", while the rest of them call us faggots and threaten to kill us if we look at them.

Lunch is a paper plate of slop, eaten with a spork cause anything else would be a weapon, while people throw food and shout insults at each other in the echoing space. Four more hours of "education" and then its sneak back, avoid the trustees, avoid the gangs, grab an hour's sleep wishing I had a lock on my door.

Back to work, try to get the boss to let me leave a bit earlier, so I don't have to risk curfew. She sneers at me and tells me that if people like me knew how to do our jobs right, we wouldn't have to take so long. I wade through the steam and heat of the shift, watching trustees with skinny girls on their arms bum around, rich and pampered and more free than I'll ever be through the windows I have to clean every day.

Dinner is 15 minutes of "food" that tastes like recycled waste, eaten outside, by the waste bins, can't let me be seen eating, but can't eat inside, the heat and the smell and the noise is too much. And then it hits me. Something in me breaks. I throw down my half eaten shit and walk away.

I know I'll catch hell, there's no getting around that. I'll have my ass chewed out, privileges denied, lock-down, who knows what.

I don't care.

I want to die.

The endless cycle of it all. The humiliations, the pain, the pointlessness. Knowing that there isn't an end. I'm at the bottom now, and as far as any I can figure, nothing I can do will make it better. Hell, the everyone says its only going to get worse the older I get. And so far, the older I've got, the worse it is.

So I go and break into an arms locker.

It's easy. They're all over the place, and no one thinks anyone like me would ever have the balls to do it.

I load everything I can find. I'm gonna go down fighting. Better on my feet than on my knees, right?


God damn High School sucks.

Now, please, save your outraged diatribes about me "glorifying school shootings" or whatever. I'm simply trying to point out a simple, but somehow unspeakable fact of American life. Youth, as a class, is horribly oppressed. There are curfews(where you AND your parents get fined, but you get locked up for a bit to boot), mandatory sentences (no juries for juvies either, no peers, just a judge, often elected on a "get tough on crime" platform). No freedom of speech, assembly, not to mention the constant petty humiliations (school uniforms, see-through bags, pat-downs and strip searches), police harassment, the hypocrisy of popularity and the free-pass grants to those rich and well connected enough to get it.

'Cause High school is the glory days, the best days of your life, right?

Is it any wonder some crack? Pumped full of mis-prescribe psychotropics? Surrounded by a culture that glorifies and rewards violence? Being constantly told by the media that this hell you live in is in fact your glory days? That High school and college students live lives of glamor and sex and nice cars and the occasional dramatic murder to up the ratings?

Is it any fucking wonder that some of them just crack?

So stop pulling your hair, wringing your hands, and asking the same old questions, placing the blame on the same old boogie-men. Public education as an institution, draconian juvenile law, and a culture of violence that denounces the young while idolizing youth have reduced adolescence to a mandatory prison sentence. Guilty until proven innocent. Sentence, 4 years re-education plus the occasional beating.

And prisons breed violence. Prisons breed cruelty. Prisons breed death.

Wake the fuck up.

Writer's Bloc

I've been having a bitch of a time trying to write lately...I 've just had so much going on internally and externally, I try to write it out and it goes all jumbly and strange.

Then I find this guy who sings everything I want to say. So I'll let him:

Peace Justice and Anarchy

If I had a Rocket Launcher

The Ballad of the Last 10,000 Years

Seriously, this guy rocks.

Too much to blog about...not enough beer.

Further proof children are eevil.

Yeah yeah yeah....

Don't get your knickers in a twist...I'll be blogging soon.
Meantime here's a much delayed RHOTW and other silliness...

Hehe...squirrels is always funny...