This has been a week of igmos, squeaky wheels, decent customer service and proof of viral social media campaigns. If all of that makes you tired already, grab a cuppa, snuggle into a rocker and I will turn on the fans. Let’s talk. (If you are easily offended by profanity, skip Clyde.)
There is nothing more disturbing than trying to get into the back end UI of website and getting a gateway timeout. In layman’s terms, someone cut the string in the game of telephone. After two hours on the CrackBerry with my arch nemesis and prospective employer, Verizon, I got their engineers tracking down what is wrong with their partner servers in South Carolina, Georgia and Tennessee.
Getting them to admit it was their fault and being astounded I can make three-year-old equipment function as it was designed was a double bonus. Having a CSR who spoke the same tech language I do actually sped the process. Once again, they have asked me to work for them.
If you are in one of those areas, today may be the first time in three days you can successfully read what I scribble here.
Those closest to me know I am overdue a vacation by about seven years. I announced it publicly yesterday. As I do with some of the M3 posts, I shared this one with my personal social media. Yes, I have more than one set of social media. I have one SM outlet I use only for friends and family. While some of its inhabitants are questionable in their qualifications, they rose to the task yesterday.
My post about my dissatisfaction at being denied a grant which I am overqualified to receive fell into the correct hands. I got a telephone call from the respite agency to say I am going to get the grant anyway. They are also looking into helping me finance regular respite care.
What that means is someone qualified to keep my children (and deal with all the possibilities) will be keeping my children so I can take a much needed vacation from my computer and my children at the same time. The lady helping me asked if I would please book somewhere out of state. I think it is a premium idea.
It also means I stand a good shot at having someone here on a regular basis so I can do such things as go to physical therapy, have my truck serviced by someone who is not me and sleep. The prospect of seeing my
sadist physical therapist (after more than a year of not being able to go) and my truck not beating me to death means I will sleep better. I can already think of a gazillion things I want to do… besides be disturbed the dictionary does not know how to spell lividity but can spell gazillion.
Right Turn, Clyde!
On aforementioned social media, Clyde was fish-eyeing a lengthy discussion amongst my friends and me about igmos. Specifically, we were determining the correct method of dealing with someone so stupid I have to wonder one of my standard questions about idiots whose bodies allow them speech without understanding or compassion. The status update read:
FYI, if you do not know me off of M3, I curse like a sailor when I am not wearing the hat of one of my many vocations. Sue me.
Do not be surprised to see me on the news. If one more motherless pissant fuck tells me I should be glad my husband and child are dead, I will not hesitate to open the cranium to find out for myself what keeps the skull from caving in. I am so done.”
Not only that, people (and I use that term charitably) who say such inane statements make me violent. Fortunately, for them, I own a very large dose of restraint. I would not be content to merely remove the head from the spinal column to look in through the neck. No, I would like to go in through the forehead and remove the skull cap. Unlike a forensic pathologist, I am unwilling to do it with a cranial saw or post mortem.
In fact, I am brought to the place where I would be willing to use my hands, perhaps a construction implement, and ask them how they are enjoying the procedure. Turnabout for inane questions should be reciprocal, no?
Clyde has to wonder about the human allegation to possessing advanced communication. Should the ability to speak be exercised when it is devoid of cognizance of the words’ repercussions?
In the example in question, all three (yes, more than one, separately, on different days) igmos in question thought it was appropriate for them to share their joy in what they believe the afterlife to be. None of the three were in line with the religions they profess. None of them had any clue as to what I believe. This is the idiot’s Trifecta.
All three said I should rejoice their deaths. When I asked what there was in wasted opportunity and ending of life when the decedent was far from ready to go which could be considered joyful. Specifically, all three of them said they believe when people die they are immediately admitted to heaven. This profession from any Judeo-Christian makes my eye twitch. I have read their bibles, even if they have not.
They would go on, with toothy grins and starry eyes, to say my husband and child were together waiting for me to join them. Won’t that be wonderful? Uh, no. I still have work to do and want the time to do it. There is a reason I did not jump into the graves.
Prohibitions and Inhibitions
I frequently remind everyone of the political and religious prohibitions on The M3 Blog. I rarely point out the redundancy, as religions are forms of government.
These conversations are a large part of the reason. When spouting off one’s religion or politics, one can become perfervid to the point profoundly offending others. Religion, especially, can blind people from the base fact: Not everyone believes what you do.
I have very few inhibitions. The one I exercise the most is my flat refusal to discuss my personal beliefs with those who have no interest in what I believe beyond convincing me I should believe as they do. Likewise, I do not volunteer my beliefs without a handful of prerequisite conditions, none of which involve social media.
Far be it from my opinionated, forthright self to withhold information from anyone actively seeking it; however, I will not offer this brand of information unsolicited because it falls on deaf ears and religion-ironclad hearts.
What I do profess of my beliefs are kindness, tolerance and education. I often do it to a crowd so certain they are already doing those things they fail to see how they discriminate, are intolerant of everyone not like them, expound their ignorance to indoctrinate others with it and are abrasively mean-spirited in their self-righteous behavior.
It is accepted yelling Fire! in a crowded theatre is not an appropriate exercise of free speech. Perhaps, when the days of universal translators are upon us in an implanted form, we will not have to legislate to convince these people what is dripping from their lips is not filled with comfort, compassion or even common sense.
It is enough to make an ape wonder.
Until next time,