Rants – Calamities

Let the Lies Begin: Christmas Rant #72

Posted on December 19, 2023December 21, 2023 by ohiocasey

I’m not trying to ruin Santa. I don’t like the lying, but I do think there’s a sort of magic that it creates for kids. No, what I really want is to ruin this notion of consumerism that we pass through generations.

Do we not already have enough? Why at the end of the year do we “need” more? But it’s not adults asking these questions to adults. It’s adults asking these questions to kids, especially kids who are not ours. And thus we continue the cycle.

Someone asks a poor kid, “What did Santa bring you?” and shame the kid never knew he had rises to the surface. And so it begins. The kid feels bad because he thinks he must’ve been naughty; and the parent feels horrible for choosing to pay the $500 electric bill in their 800 sq ft apartment, and making a choice of heat over toys.

Next year, mom gets a credit card and goes all out.

And the year after that, the kid expects it. And that entire year, mom tries to pay off that credit card. She picks up a second job just to get Christmas money. And now she’s seeing him even less, all for the sake of not being excluded from a bloated consumer culture that happens one day a year. It costs more to fit in.

So why don’t they just do things differently? She’d love to, but there will always be the stranger who asks your kid what they got for Christmas. And your heart will break every time, because you couldn’t get Jimmy the transformer that he wanted, you could only get him a teddy bear.

Christmas needs to change on a cultural level to truly be fair to all the innocent children. Because that’s who’s hurting most from this: children. Children thinking they’re not good enough for Santa’s gifts, feeling left out, looked over, naughty, rejected, etc., etc., etc. No child should feel that way.

Imagine a kid who is painfully behaved every year, just to see what Santa will bring. And then they get nothing. How do you think that would affect their psyche, their relationship with reality? “Am I real?,” they might think.

Unfortunately, it seems to be going in the other direction with kids getting even more lavish gifts. And why? Many of those gifts will end up stuffed in the top right corner of their closet or buried under their beds within a few months. So is the spending more for the parents? Is it more about their status? And perhaps that’s why they like to ask other little kids what they got for Christmas: so they can know they’re a better parent than that kid’s parent.

This is speculation of course. Soft science. Possibly subconscious on some levels. And, unfortunately, this capitalistic culture fuels it. Of course businesses want a good Q4!

Perhaps the real solution is for impoverished parents to tell their kids the truth. Tell them that Santa is an idea more than a real person. Tell them there is no naughty or nice list; we’re all just humans trying to do the best we can. And that’s what we want for our kids: do the best you can; treat others how you want to be treated; think about how you might feel in the same situation. Remind Jimmy that the rich kids are sad, too, because many of them are raised by “the help” and barely see their parents. His little heart will grow bigger and more empathetic. And years later he’ll realize how special that family tradition Christmas morning breakfast with his mom was during his childhood. He might not remember a single gift, but he’ll remember that. And he’ll look around at all his friends losing their hair over debt, and he’ll feel content. He’ll appreciate what he has today, instead of striving for what everyone else has for an un-guaranteed tomorrow.

P.S. If you or your kid is a born psychopath, this won’t help.

P.P.S. I know some people will say something to the effect of, “But my love language is giving gifts!” To that I say, “Then why wait to gift at Christmas? Just do it when you feel it.”

Bloggy, Rants

Judgment

Posted on June 26, 2015December 19, 2023 by ohiocasey

On my way to work this morning heading south toward the river, I came up over the viaduct and saw that beautiful image of the Kentucky hills blanketed in fog. The light wasn’t hitting the hills, so they had a bluegreen appearance which made the haze of the fog stand out even more. I breathed it in and thought, “This is such a pretty place…. but with so many ugly people.” And I don’t just mean their appearance, I mean what’s inside them: their hate and intolerance toward those who are different, and complete inability to see beyond themselves.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how judgmental people are, and about how they’re always obsessing over what other people are doing. I watched the movie Nebraska earlier this week (it’s excellent), and the main character’s mother is the perfect example of a small-town, righteous, judgmental know-it-all. She has nothing to talk about except for how others are living their lives; how this person is a whore, and that person wanted to get in her pants, etc.

And we all know those people who can’t make conversation without dragging someone else through the mud. And for what? They don’t know your story, what you’ve been through, or where you came from. Those people treat their lives like a celebrity gossip column. (And we don’t know those celebrities’ stories, either!)

If people are not interfering with your life or infringing on you, then what’s the problem? How are they causing you harm, and what gives you the right to judge them?

We all have different paths for different reasons. We have lived lives that no one else will understand. So remember that. If someone hasn’t harmed you, then be nice to them. Stop acting like a child and belittling others to feel better about yourself. And if you’re going to act like a child, remember the advice of Thumper: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.”

During the hour between getting home from work and going to the gym, I puked out a song on the topic. Song puking happens when I’ve had something on my mind, and the song just spills out of me in one sitting.

Here are the lyrics. Some of them are placeholders since it came out so fast, but you get the idea.

–Untitled–

For such a pretty place,
You’ve got an ugly face.
Not sure what made you better than me.
Who gave you the right to judge my life?

Is it cause your ma and pa they got money?
And they been married for 30 years.
You claim you never miss a Sunday service,
And you never seen your daddy touch a bottle of whiskey .

By conventional standards
You’d be labeled a 10,
But it’s what’s on the inside that’s turnin’ me off;
The world owes you a place in the sun.

Is it cause your ma and pa they got a mortgage?
And they paid for all of your college.
You never miss a hometown football game,
And you never seen your father hit your mother.

Feelin’ sorry for you
And your preoccupation
With all the things that others do;
You’re concerned they’ll get their gay on you.

Is it cause it might make your marriage less meaningful?
Well that don’t sound like a real strong marriage.
Like you don’t know my story, I don’t know yours.
And what’s any of this got to do with you?

For such a pretty place,
You’ve got an ugly face.
Not sure what made you better than me.
Who gave you the right to judge my life?

Bloggy, Photography, Rants

Wasteland

Posted on January 16, 2014June 1, 2015 by ohiocasey

2014 January 14

Today, I walked along the river and saw the vast amount of debris washed ashore from recent rising waters. Plastic abounds and no one is in a rush to clean it up–standard Portsmouth practice.

In many countries, people live off, worship, and fear their rivers. Here, they’re just something else we become so good at destroying.