Finally, after approximately one hundred billion months of relentless Febreezing and accidentally smacking the dog across the face with a rolled up Oriental Trading catalog, I can say with at least 93% certainty that Michael Myers the fly is dead.
(But is Michael Myers ever really dead?)
Yes, he is dead.
(But is he?)
A mock-funeral, in which my husband and I will mock the fly as he is laid to rest in our garbage can, is set for Monday.
(Yes, but where is the fly's body?)
I just have to locate the body and remove it.
(Michael Myers cannot be killed. Michael Myers is unkillable.)
Look, I killed him, I swear to you I killed him. He is dead, I killed him. Just ask my husband, who was there. (Asleep, but there.) I knocked over everything on my night-table and accidentally punched my husband in the nipple (so I can confirm he was at least partially awake) and then I swear I saw the fly plummet to his death. I saw him fall and not get back up. The fly is dead, THE FLY IS DEAD! I DID IT! I KILLED HIM!
(But did you?)
Yes? I think so? I AM DEFINITELY ALMOST POSITIVE.
(Michael Myers The Fly lives! He lives!)
Okay, so he's probably alive.
DAMN IT.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Thursday, November 13, 2014
MORE GUNS!
Not to get too political here (except I'm about to get SUPER political here) but what the hell is wrong with us, collectively, as human American people, that this shit still goes on and nobody seems to care? Oh, another school shooting? Such a shame, guess it must be a Tuesday, oh well, let's get onion rings!
Did you know that in 2014 alone, there were 88 separate school shootings? 88! If you counted Senile Pop Crooner Tony Bennett's age in tree rings, those tree rings would equal the number of school shootings in this country per year, and Tony Bennett was born in the goddamn 1920s!
Look, people. I just want to clarify that we're all totally cool with this. We're all super okay with the sheer volume of deaths in this country due to firearms. Yes? Because the second amendment and guns and tyranny and bibles. Right? This is where we're at now?
Here's my question: why are we unable to create and enact better gun laws? Why are we so paralyzed by inaction that we can't even talk about it? How is it that every time we even TRY, the conversation mutates into an ugly game of telephone where the message becomes OBAMA'S TAKING THE GUNS! ALL THE GUNS! WE MUST PROTECT THE GUNS! CONSTITUTION! CIVIL RIGHTS! SECOND AMENDMENT! BENGHAZI! (The second amendment, by the way, only guarantees your right to defend yourself as part of a well-regulated militia, but whatever. Who cares about facts? )
Look, let me make an analogy: you're allowed to own a car. Right? And you're allowed to drive that car wherever you'd like. Right? You want to go to California? Boom. You drive that spunky little Prius right on down to California, girl. You drive like the wind. Say hi to Ryan Gosling for me (and then punch him in the face for The Notebook). Just keep in mind that you are not allowed to just do whatever the hell you want with that Prius. You cannot drive it without a license. You cannot drive it without having been properly trained. You cannot drive drunk. You cannot drive it unregistered. You cannot drive on the opposite side of the road or on the sidewalk or into a fucking Arbys just because you feel like it and freedom! the constitution! civil rights! That is simply not how "civil rights" work. You have the "right" to own and operate a dangerous weapon, you do not have the right to just do whatever the fuck you want with that dangerous weapon. We understand this about cars, but cannot grasp this about guns? Why?
Perhaps because here in America, we worship the gods of unchecked capitalism, which involves something called profitability, which essentially comes from the marketing of fear: fear of scaaaaaaaary people (AKA black people), fear of being murdered, fear of not fitting in, fear of not being sexy enough, fear of not having enough money, fear of not having enough things, fear of not having the right clothes or enough hair, fear of not being smart enough or fast enough, fear, fear, fear, fear, all the time fear. America runs on fear! It's like Dunkin Donuts, but with 80% more murders.
The bottom-line is this: an unafraid America is an unprofitable America. And unafraid Americans buying fewer guns is totally unprofitable for the gun industry, which in turn is unprofitable for politicians and the NRA-- who by the way are all 100% in the pockets of wealthy gun manufacturers who don't give a shit whether you live or die-- which in turn makes you, my dear gun owning, gun-rights-toting friend, a patsy for the uber-rich and a stupid fucking idiot for fueling a dangerous narrative that kills over 1000 people every year.
To be clear: the government is never (not ever) going to take away the paranoid stash of guns from your Ebola safe room, Billybob J. Moron-- but it's super profitable for the gun industry to let you THINK the government is taking away your guns. Because if you think people are taking away your guns you'll buy more guns. Just like if you think your child's school might morph into a warzone, you'll BUY MORE GUNS!
MORE GUNS!!!!!!
Yes, it's far, far better to live this this way, don't you think? Mired in an ignorant culture of meritless ethnocentrism, evangelism and fear. And guns. Lots of guns. Lots and lots of guns. Because as we all know, the only thing that solves fear is more guns, and the only thing that solves more guns is more guns, and the only thing that solves more and more and more guns is bigger and bigger and bigger guns with more and more ammo, and the only thing that solves bigger guns with more ammo is assault weapons with more ammo, and the only thing that solves assault weapons with more ammo is more guns and more ammo and MORE GUNS and maybe some TANKS and MORE GUNS and also several copies of the old testament, because clearly what Jesus wanted was lenient open carry laws and untrained teachers in classrooms with guns.
Wake up, people. Wake. The fuck. Up.
Totally normal day!
Look, people. I just want to clarify that we're all totally cool with this. We're all super okay with the sheer volume of deaths in this country due to firearms. Yes? Because the second amendment and guns and tyranny and bibles. Right? This is where we're at now?
Here's my question: why are we unable to create and enact better gun laws? Why are we so paralyzed by inaction that we can't even talk about it? How is it that every time we even TRY, the conversation mutates into an ugly game of telephone where the message becomes OBAMA'S TAKING THE GUNS! ALL THE GUNS! WE MUST PROTECT THE GUNS! CONSTITUTION! CIVIL RIGHTS! SECOND AMENDMENT! BENGHAZI! (The second amendment, by the way, only guarantees your right to defend yourself as part of a well-regulated militia, but whatever. Who cares about facts? )
Look, let me make an analogy: you're allowed to own a car. Right? And you're allowed to drive that car wherever you'd like. Right? You want to go to California? Boom. You drive that spunky little Prius right on down to California, girl. You drive like the wind. Say hi to Ryan Gosling for me (and then punch him in the face for The Notebook). Just keep in mind that you are not allowed to just do whatever the hell you want with that Prius. You cannot drive it without a license. You cannot drive it without having been properly trained. You cannot drive drunk. You cannot drive it unregistered. You cannot drive on the opposite side of the road or on the sidewalk or into a fucking Arbys just because you feel like it and freedom! the constitution! civil rights! That is simply not how "civil rights" work. You have the "right" to own and operate a dangerous weapon, you do not have the right to just do whatever the fuck you want with that dangerous weapon. We understand this about cars, but cannot grasp this about guns? Why?
Perhaps because here in America, we worship the gods of unchecked capitalism, which involves something called profitability, which essentially comes from the marketing of fear: fear of scaaaaaaaary people (AKA black people), fear of being murdered, fear of not fitting in, fear of not being sexy enough, fear of not having enough money, fear of not having enough things, fear of not having the right clothes or enough hair, fear of not being smart enough or fast enough, fear, fear, fear, fear, all the time fear. America runs on fear! It's like Dunkin Donuts, but with 80% more murders.
The bottom-line is this: an unafraid America is an unprofitable America. And unafraid Americans buying fewer guns is totally unprofitable for the gun industry, which in turn is unprofitable for politicians and the NRA-- who by the way are all 100% in the pockets of wealthy gun manufacturers who don't give a shit whether you live or die-- which in turn makes you, my dear gun owning, gun-rights-toting friend, a patsy for the uber-rich and a stupid fucking idiot for fueling a dangerous narrative that kills over 1000 people every year.
To be clear: the government is never (not ever) going to take away the paranoid stash of guns from your Ebola safe room, Billybob J. Moron-- but it's super profitable for the gun industry to let you THINK the government is taking away your guns. Because if you think people are taking away your guns you'll buy more guns. Just like if you think your child's school might morph into a warzone, you'll BUY MORE GUNS!
MORE GUNS!!!!!!
Yes, it's far, far better to live this this way, don't you think? Mired in an ignorant culture of meritless ethnocentrism, evangelism and fear. And guns. Lots of guns. Lots and lots of guns. Because as we all know, the only thing that solves fear is more guns, and the only thing that solves more guns is more guns, and the only thing that solves more and more and more guns is bigger and bigger and bigger guns with more and more ammo, and the only thing that solves bigger guns with more ammo is assault weapons with more ammo, and the only thing that solves assault weapons with more ammo is more guns and more ammo and MORE GUNS and maybe some TANKS and MORE GUNS and also several copies of the old testament, because clearly what Jesus wanted was lenient open carry laws and untrained teachers in classrooms with guns.
Wake up, people. Wake. The fuck. Up.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
There is a fly in my house.
A mutant fly has been living in my house for the past month. He is unkillable. Both my husband and I have tried to kill him multiple times. MULTIPLE. Have, in fact, spent hours, perhaps a days worth of hours cumulatively over the course of a month, trying to kill this one damn fly. But the damn fly won't die. We can't kill the damn fly.
Flies are only supposed to live for several days, right? It's been well over a month. Perhaps even two. The carcasses of his fallen brethren lie inside my window sill and in various ceiling fixtures and I'm worried that maybe, just maybe, this fly is the Michael Myers of flies and one morning I'm going to wake up and find my husband lying on the floor in a pool of blood, the fly slowly buzzing at me in plodding, measured paces, steak knife in wing. Or maybe this is the Emeric Belasco/Hell House of flies, turning my own home and insecurities and idiocies against me. All I know is Mutant Fly cannot be underestimated. It is only a fool who underestimates Mutant Fly.
My husband asked me to give him the febreeze. We'd made some omelettes for breakfast and the fly buzzed about us closely, brazenly. He landed on my omelette, as always, and I swung at him wildly and missed. Then the fly yelled what can only be described as an obscene series of expletives and flew off.
My husband asked me to give him the febreeze. We'd made some omelettes for breakfast and the fly buzzed about us closely, brazenly. He landed on my omelette, as always, and I swung at him wildly and missed. Then the fly yelled what can only be described as an obscene series of expletives and flew off.
My husband wielded the can of Febreeze, and I snorted.
"And what do you think that's going to do?"
"We'll spray him to death like the others."
(Truth: we've Household Fragranced many, many a fly to death in our day. As a strategy, we've found it effective. Instead of Raid, which is super-toxic, you just Febreeze the fly into a fragrance induced fugue state, and then let it smell itself to death. As I type this I realize that might perhaps be violently enraging the other flies.)
(Which makes this war?)
My husband waited patiently with his weapon, a can of Apple cinnamon scented aerosol, for Mutant Fly to land on one of the walls. And, once it did, he proceeded to spray the shit out of --well, mostly the wall, not the fly-- and then the TV, and the couch, and the desk, and the dog; he shoved folding tables out of the way, kicked aside wires; he chased Mutant Fly from one end of the room to the other, me yelling out hysterical directions as he steered the nozzle, the two of us operating a tight tactical fly killing unit, creating what I'll just say was an unhealthy breathing situation, a sort of an Apple Cinnamon aerosol prison... and yet, AND YET--
"Where'd he go?"
"Fuck." I sighed. "He's gone. It's over."
"He has to die eventually."
"Does he?" I laid a hand against the wall, touching the space where the fly had once been. "Does he?"
"The room does smell awful."
"Yes," I said, eyes narrowed. "Yes, it does."
And that is how the fly lived. He lives still. And my apartment smells like the anus of a scented candle.
But hear me now: I will get Mutant Fly. I will find him and I will kill him. Not that this makes me Captain Ahab and the fly my giant whale because that would be ridiculous, but I will destroy this entire apartment and everyone in it if that's what I have to do to kill this fly.
Relaxation Sunday!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
