Derailed again...

Seems like every time I think things are going to calm down and I can really start working on my own personal projects (like this stupid blog), life gets in the way.

Or, in this case, death.

See, last month, I finished my final essays for Grad School and then had my last class, a three week course on Library Collection Development of Graphic Novel Collections (i.e. comic books). My final assignment was due June 22. While writing this paper in the heat (the A/C at our house was broken that day so it was 86 degrees in the house), I got a call that my Mom had fallen in the bathroom and they had to take her to the hospital. Everybody told me to finish my paper and get there as soon as I could (well, except for one of Mom's neighbors who tried to lay a guilt trip on me because I wouldn't drop everything and rush to the hospital to wait in the waiting room). Somehow, I finished and I went to the hospital.
My Sister and my Uncle and Aunt (Mom's brother and sister-in-law) were there and we waited for a bit. The doctor came out and said my sister and I could see Mom, finally. She was in ICU, but she was awake and lucid. She was dehydrated and tired, but we were able to talk some. We talked about some dumb stuff (like how she was going to miss that night's episode of Army Wives) and some important stuff. My Sister and I stayed for a little while, but it was becoming obvious that she was getting tired so we said we should leave so she could rest. I kissed her goodbye and told her I come up the next day to check on her. On my way out, I told her to "behave herself" and she kind of laughed.
We'd been through stuff like this before. Mom was diagnosed with Stage 3 Ovarian Cancer back in June of 2001. Originally, the doctors said 6 months, maybe a year or maybe even 3. She blew that out of the water. Granted, the cancer kept coming back and she had more surgeries and chemo, but she kept fighting. But then, in early June of this year, we got the news that her kidneys were failing and the doctors couldn't really do much else. She had maybe 3 or 4 months left.
We didn't even get 2 weeks.
On June 23rd, Monday morning, about 9 hours after I left her in ICU, I got a call from the hospital saying we needed to get there ASAP. My Sister got there the same time I did and we rushed up to ICU. It looked like the whole emergency staff was in her room. They were putting in a breathing tube. She was unconscious. The doctor started asking about living wills and what her wishes were. I couldn't make that decision yet... I needed other people... my uncle... my wife... somebody. The doctors said we had a little time to decide.
The rest of the family arrived shortly and we waited. I made phone calls letting people know things were looking bleak. The doctor came in and said we needed to decide because they were about to have to try and resuscitate. We all knew Mom wouldn't want to be kept alive on machines, so I said "let her go."
After the staff had removed most of the machines (just the ventilator was there), they let us go in to be with her. My Sister and I held her hands and shortly the nurse came in to let us know that she was not really breathing on her own anymore and it was time to take out the tube and let it end.
For about 5 minutes after the tube came out, my sister and I stood on each side of her, held her hands, and listened as her breaths became shorter and shorter until... nothing. The nurse came in and said she was gone. We said our goodbyes and left the room.
After that, it was a whirlwind of phone calls, emails, funeral plans, flowers, family, food.... just all sorts of busy. We buried Mom, next to Dad, on Friday, June 27th, 1 day after what would have been their 38th anniversary and 1 month after my 33rd birthday.
I'm really not sure how this post ended up with all of this. I logged in to just make a quick post saying life was hectic, but I'm still around. Instead, it's turned into another post about someone close to me who died. It's almost the second anniversary of the death of one of the most interesting people I ever knew, Wayne Erickson. 2 years later, and I still can't bear to read what I wrote after his death (I've moved the original Yahoo blog post from 7/19/06 to this blog).
It's not like Mom's death was a complete shock. Granted, we knew it was unlikely that she'd make it to Thanksgiving, but I really thought I'd have more time with her. I had just ordered a copy of one of our favorite movies (What's Up, Doc? with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neil) so we could watch it one Saturday afternoon. In fact, I had just quit my Saturday part-time job at the library so I could have more time with Mom... arranging things, discussing the estate, getting her to tell stories of her life to my video camera, just hanging out... but I didn't get to do any of that.
Now, I don't have any of those "I never told her I loved her!" regrets... I know she loved me and she knew I loved her. But I do feel a little bit robbed. It's like I started the last chapter of a book, all set to find out how it neatly wraps everything up, and somebody snatched it away before I could finish it.
I really thought I could handle this... I mean, 7 years of fighting cancer is a long time and you know that you probably aren't going to be on the winning side. The chemo hadn't been working for awhile and I could just tell that things were heading downhill. And I tried to steel myself up... to be numb... to somehow disassociate from the loss that I knew was coming.
But I couldn't...
I'm getting along mostly okay... I still become sad for no reason and tears start falling if I think about Mom too long. As long as I stay busy, it helps. But the fact is, the world feels different now. It sounds overly dramatic, but it really feels like part of me is missing and I'm kind of having trouble focusing. Things that should make me happy don't make me as happy. I'm bored almost everything.
I know this is just part of the process and it takes time. I really just wish I could take a month away from it all, but that's not an option right now. I also wish I could just explode into a million tiny pieces and then slowly rebuild myself and fix the broken parts. But that isn't possible either.
I won't go into it too much here, because this post isn't about religion, but I cringe every time somebody brings up Jesus/Christians/God/Heaven. Mom knew I wasn't Christian. I don't know if she knew that I'm an atheist or if she just thought I was agnostic. At any rate, we didn't discuss religion much. She had her beliefs and I had mine, and that was fine. But for whatever reason, and I know it's largely just people trying to make me (and themselves) feel better, I find little comfort from people's comments about Mom being "in heaven with the Lord" or that people are praying for me. See, this compassionate deity they all rave about saw fit to give Mom cancer in the first place. They can rationalize it all they want, like, "god gave her cancer and the strength to fight so that other people can be inspired!" That's idiotic. It really is. If god is such a benevolent dude, why not just get rid of cancer instead of inflicting the pain of cancer on his true believers to make a point about inspiration and faith to other people? Why make friends and family go through the pain and anguish of watching a loved one slowly die? And as for people praying for me... what good does that do? By praying, is god going to make me feel better that he took my Mom from me? Screw god and screw the prayers. I don't need the prayers. The damage is done and I'll heal in time, but not through the spiritual prozac that believers think god will provide. If god didn't want me to suffer, he shouldn't have taken my mom. And if god DID want me to suffer, what kind of an asshole tortures and kills someone else to make their target suffer?
Okay... I'll get off that... it just makes me angry.
This post is not my final goodbye to my Mom. I refuse to say a final goodbye to my Mom. Because a final goodbye means I stop thinking about her and I stop remembering her and I start removing her from my life. She may not be here anymore and I may not be able to hear her voice or see her face or hug her anymore, but she's still with me.
And you don't say goodbye to someone who is with you.

Love you Mom!

New Old Time Travelling Posts

Since my Yahoo 360 blog is going to go away, I'm migrating the posts from there to here. So if you missed them the first time, perhaps you'll read them this time.

They'll be posted under the same date they were originally posted.

And I'll put some new crap up at some point.

Dope... and other things that sound like Pope

Dear crummy Catholic Pope Benedict XVI,

Please go away. I don't like you.
First of all, everybody knows sequels suck and after the "pope-nipple" outrage from the Joel Schumacher directed Pope Benedict XV, I was hoping we'd never have to see another one.
Second, "Benedict" has a bad history as a name in this country. Benedict Arnold was a jerk and a traitor and besides, I hate eggs no matter how they are prepared.
Third, you were a Nazi. I don't care if it wasn't by choice, you were still a Nazi.
Fourth, you're a dick. You didn't seem particularly concerned about child molesting priests before so screw you.

What I don't understand is why all the Protestants get all excited about you. People like President Bush get all enamored with meeting you and refer to you as "Your Holiness." Do they not understand where the "Protest" part of "Protestant" came from? Protestants and Catholics, other than claiming to be followers of crazy ol' Jesus and the subsequent ramblings of Paul, pretty much have nothing else in common. In some places, they still kill each other because each side thinks the other is completely wrong.
I could understand it if it was some sort of act like when heads of state pretend to get along because everybody is watching, but these fools act genuinely happy to be within the pope-a-matic bubble of the pontiff's divine light. The very foundation of Protestantism is that these followers of Christ REJECT THE POPE'S AUTHORITY AND EVERYTHING HE DECREES!!!! WTF!!!!??!!?!? Either these Xians are just stupid and ignorant of their own religion or they are hypocrites. If the pope has no authority, what is there to respect? Without authority, he's just a guy in a white robe sponging off other people's money. He's like Paris Hilton without a small dog in a purse.
If I were to come into contact with Pope Benedict and introduced myself as Pope Rotten Arsenal, do you think I would seriously get addressed with any sort of respectful, reverent title? Probably not. I'd probably get condemned for blasphemy by Catholics and Protestants alike. There is a message board devoted to listeners of a local radio show and I was elected by the members of that board as "pope" and given some authority (I have an entire section I get to moderate and I run the Deadpool!), so doesn't that mean I should be given the same respect by other "popes", whether they subscribe to that which I am pope of or not? Sure, some people might say that "it's just a dumb message board for listeners of a radio show... being pope of that is a big joke." Well, guess what, as a non-christian who finds much of what the catholic church does to be pretty sh***y, my view of Benedict is that he's a joke of leader of a dumb religion for followers of a guy with an inflated image who died 2000 years ago. Why are my beliefs less valid?
If Peggy Nadramia, High Priestess of the Church of Satan, or Bobby Henderson, founder of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster were to meet President Bush, would the prez exhibit reverence and respect to them? I doubt it. What's the difference? They are both high profile humans within a religious organization who can claim just as easily as Benedict that their authority is divinely derived.
I really wish I could meet a Catholic Pope one day just so I could treat him like any other douche bag I might meet. No "your holiness" or bowing... maybe a firm handshake and a "how ya doin", but I'll do that for any other human being.

So, enjoy your stay here, enjoy the adoration of all of your sheep, and then get the hell out of here so that my tax dollars aren't supporting the heightened security that no doubt follows you all over the damn place.

Jerk.

Sincerely,

Pope Rotten Arsenal

Fibber McGee

This blog is not dead, just in hibernation.

Missile Silos of the Apocalypse

Okay... I've finally figured out what church steeples are really for.

They're missile silos.

No really... inside these pointy towers that often times house bells or are adorned with crosses are WMDs... "Jesus Missiles" if you will.

Steeples have long been associated with religious structures. In fact, according to some wacko Seventh Day Adventist study on steeples from 1987, they actually date back to pagan religions, a fact that had some people claiming they shouldn't be used. (Apparently the "pagan" stuff taints the Jesus, but somehow different than all the other pagan stuff they've absorbed). The link above discusses why this attitude is wrong, but all the same, it's an interesting discussion about steeples (there's something I never thought I'd type).

Anyway... missile silos... right. I'm not really sure why they would have missiles in church steeples, but it no doubt pertains to the impending Apocalypse that almost assuredly is nigh (as it has been for the last 2000 or so years). My theory is that it's one of two things:

1. At the appointed time, either some secret time that only the Christian higher ups know or possibly when Jesus sends the email (To: Christians Everywhere, From: Jesus (I_Save@godmail.net), Subject: The time has come. Execute order 666), the missiles will simultaneously launch and will destroy the temple and open a hole to Hell allowing all the demons of the underworld to begin the Apocalypse. Or..
2. After the Apocalypse has started, the missiles are fired which then detonate over the Earth, releasing some sort of Holy Radiation that takes all the Christians up to heaven

I really don't know which one it is. But, knowing the Christians penchant for cryptic soothsaying and overly complex symbolism, I think this quote from a steeple maker speaks volumes:

"A steeple points one to the heavens, symbol of the dwelling place of Christ. Through city streets, across the valleys and lakes, through the countryside far and wide, the steeple declares Christ."

- Jerry Bennett of Campbellsville Industries

(from "Here's the Church, Here's the Steeple..." by Scott Gabrielson, Your Church magazine, May/June 2001)

See? It "points to the heavens", the launching direction, and then when it fires the missile, it's "declar[ing] Christ" and the missiles travels all over the place! What more proof do you need?

The article includes some bit about contemporary steeple uses and talks about churches allowing cellular companies to put antennas on the steeples to help expand their networks (Can you hear me now, Jesus?). The churches make some cash in exchange for allowing a corporate entity to put metal on the steeple which allows devices created through science to function better. Of course, it could all be just a ruse... perhaps they are just adding the antenna so the missile command can link up with satellite targeting systems.

Damn you, Frito Lay!

I'm pretty sure I'm addicted to Doritos. I say this because there isn't a day that goes by that I don't eat Doritos. In fact, I'm not sure my day is complete if I do not consume Doritos at some point.

It doesn't help that one of my co-workers ALWAYS has a big bag of Nacho Cheese around her desk. This isn't that surprising when you realize that she basically only eats about 6 different foods (white bread, peanut butter, Sunkist, spaghetti, deli style roast beef, and Doritos). At any rate, she's made junkies out of most of our team.

Nacho cheese is the easy fall back flavor. It's available almost anywhere snacks are sold. I prefer the Spicy Nacho myself. Cool Ranch isn't bad, but I usually get tired of them before the end of the bag. Taco is my all time favorite, but they don't make those anymore (unless you buy their ludicrous mix bags that have two flavors of Doritos in one bag).

I should really try and kick the Dorito habit. It's pretty much the one really bad thing I haven't been able to really stop eating regularly. I have no idea why. Frito Lay probably has some addictive additive in these things that force us all to keep shoving curled triangles into our faces.

Today's Lesson: Where babies SHOULDN'T come from

There is no reason for the pic on today's post, other than I just really like the old Denton, TX ska band The Grown-Ups. R.I.P.

First off, might I just point out that it would be really funny if the New England Patriots went undefeated this year, thereby making the undefeated 1972 Miami Dolphins a little less special, but only if the currently winless 2007 Miami Dolphins remained winless. THAT would make me laugh.

Rotten's Brilliant Controversial Plan #59:

There are too many stupid people having children. There are also too many people who have children when they are completely unable to properly care and support a child (much less have more than one). I propose that it become law that all males should have vasectomies at puberty (paid for by the government). Later, when the male and the specific female intended to be said male's mate can prove that the couple are financially sound, not complete morons, and can prove they have some idea of how to properly raise a child (think psychological examinations, for one), then the government shall reverse the vasectomy. Once the happy couple have managed to create their little bundle of joy, poppa gets re-snipped.

Want another kid? Go through the original process all over again.

Sure, some of you are probably thinking that this is probably infringing on some rights somewhere and that the government doesn't need to be involved in baby making. Well, too bad. The Catholic Church doesn't need to be involved in baby making either, but that doesn't stop them.

Besides, you have to have a license and prove some competency to drive a car, hunt, own a gun, etc... shouldn't you at least prove that you have some measure of responsibility before creating another human being?

I'm not saying you have to make $100k a year and score a 1600 on your SATs, but hell, I'd like there to at least be some planning involved. If you have to fill out paperwork and have your man parts screwed around with, I'm guessing you've at least thought about having a kid as opposed to a couple of 16 year old kids who either didn't get (thanks religious nuts!) or didn't pay attention to sex ed.

Added bonus: "Single" woman gets knocked up? Chances are pretty good somebody's cheatin'!

Sure there are potential problems like back-alley reverse vasectomies and such, but let's face it, men are really squeamish about other men messing around down there. And two points about that:

1. I say men because how many women are really going to do a back alley reverse vasectomy on some guy unless that guy is going to get them pregnant?


2. Women may have the guts to give birth or abort a fetus, but guys get close to tears just watching somebody get kicked in the crotch. Caveman acts tough, but caveman is a big wuss in regards to nether pain.

It doesn't really have to be that difficult to get approved for the "stork" license. Use the Kia method... "Do you have a job? Do you have $199?"
Maybe not that basic, but I mean you can weed out the completely unacceptable situations right off the bat. High School drop out that works the cash register at Wal-mart? As the great Magic 8-Ball once said: "Outlook not so good."

I'm not usually a big proponent of having the government step in and force responsibility down the populace's throats (or loins as the case may be), but in this case I make an exception. There are a lot of things that we're running out of on this planet.... humans are not one of them.