So it’s finally happened. The Roe overthrow. Trump warned us when he was running in 2016. (I’m so grateful to the people who either didn’t vote, or wasted their votes on um . . . what were their names?) Our country continues its slow regression. Where back next? Contraception? Same sex marriage? Well at least Clarence Thomas won’t vote to outlaw interracial marriage because, well you know, his wife and all. The irony is that all the conservatives who wanted to grow the white population, (because, you know, the nation will be majority brown in twenty years) will be shocked at how the population will swell (pardon the pun) with underprivileged brown people as a consequence of their obsession. (Oh, and minorities tend to vote Democrat.) I’d suggest not having sex in states like Oklahoma, where some gentlemen wouldn’t hesitate to blow the uterus right off you if they thought you might be fertilizing there. And no exceptions for rape or incest in some states? These laws are probably promoted by men who prefer to you know, have sex with . . . okay, I won’t go there. Conservative women aren’t innocent either. It’s myopic not to consider the consequences of unwanted pregnancy. Research has shown that the socioeconomic outcomes for children whose mothers were denied abortions is catastrophic. And what about new mothers who resent their babies, or who feel trapped, or who aren’t automatically maternal? Do they put their children up for adoption? 90% don’t. You’ll definitely need to step in and do something about that. How absurd that the fate of women’s bodies in this vast country lay in the laps of nine people. Six who are woefully out of step with the majority of 21st century Americans. I won’t call them Justices, because there’s nothing just about what happened today. How sad that the Supreme Court is yet another political branch of our government.
Time for Some TCM and Hocus Pocus
My God, the news is so bad—I mean, really exceptionally bad–that the only relief is the TCM or the Halloween channel. Sometimes both. The Halloween channel is unofficially Freeform. Sometimes SyFy. Josh is content to watch something creepy with me, but if it’s really scary, (lots of ghosts, but no blood) I go it alone. Because it’s not scary. At all. Scary is climate change, oil spills, paralyzed government, Covid, violent death, Facebook, blah, blah. Anyway, in honor of my favorite holiday, I’d like to make a few recommendations for your viewing pleasure. And yes, this is subjective. And yes, I left out the animated stuff and probably some of your favorites. I generally prefer Gothic—especially if it was made in the 1960’s. Anyway:
The Haunting (1963 version with Julie Harris) TCM around the end of the month.
The Innocents (Deborah Kerr, based on Henry James short story) Might have to buy.
The Exorcist (Yes, it’s still terrifying) Should be streaming somewhere.
The Changeling (The one with George C. Scott) Prime Video?
Crimson Peak, (Mia Wasikowska and Jessica Chastain. A little bloody) Netflix, Prime Video
If you want a pure Halloween experience—Hocus Pocus, for a good laugh . . . and some good creeps. On Freeform all month. (Record it because there are tons of commercials.)
If you want something that will genuinely scare the shit out of you, (I couldn’t finish it) then watch Anya Taylor-Joy in The Witch. The atmosphere is . . . well, feel it for yourself.
Can Texas Women Travel to Mexico Now for a Safe Abortion?
I always thought Governor Abbott was an imbecile, (which automatically makes me smarter than him) and that he couldn’t possibly top his harebrained ban on masks, but I would be wrong. Sending women back into the dark ages with his new abortion law isn’t only asinine and sexist, it’s dangerous. But perhaps I shouldn’t speak up right now because he might be suffering from some bad period cramps . . . oh wait, he doesn’t have a period. Well then maybe he should keep his legislation out of my uterus. I particularly love the bounty on the body thing, but that’s another story. I’m sure you know about this, but I’m going to post portions of these articles anyway:
“MEXICO CITY, Sept 7 (Reuters) – Mexico’s Supreme Court unanimously ruled on Tuesday that penalizing abortion is unconstitutional, a major victory for advocates of women’s health and human rights, just as parts of the United States enact tougher laws against the practice.
The decision in the world’s second-biggest Roman Catholic country means that courts can no longer prosecute abortion cases, and follows the historic legalization of the right in Argentina, which took effect earlier this year.”
And from NPR:
“Now that women in Coahuila, which borders the state of Texas, can choose to terminate their pregnancies through the first trimester, Avila-Guillen suggests some American women may benefit from Mexico’s new law.
She asks: “Could the safest way for Texan women to have access to a safe, legal abortion soon be to make their way to Mexico?”
Who’d a thunk it? I love the irony. Maybe rape and incest victims won’t have to schlep so far away to end their trauma.
As a former Houstonian, born and raised, I’m ashamed about what’s happening to my state. I pray that one day a blue wave will rise up, cover the rot, and send the scoundrels running.
A Real Blog Post
Because I’m old-fashioned, (meaning I’m tech-stupid) I’ve mainly used my blog in a cathartic way. (To bitch.) It’s been another “a while” since I’ve posted. I swear I’m not going to discuss politics. Really. It’s not good for my blood pressure, and I’m already too upset about everything else that’s destroying our country, world, and planet. I’m looking forward to Halloween, (my favorite holiday) so I’ll probably post one of my favorite ghost stories. But for now I’ll just share a few things that have transpired lately. Just a few links because I don’t know how to do anything else. That’s my Halloween resolution. To transform and invigorate my blog so my posts, (rants) aren’t so scary. I’ll reach out for viewers, add photos, jokes, (I really do have a sense of humor) my music, and anything I else I can think of to impress. Or connect, (which is what I need). I’ve been overwhelmed lately, (but it’s been artistic stuff so it’s okay). So here are a few links to some recent successes. You’ll know when I’ve figured out how to do anything else. I’m just an old-fashioned girl for now.
My latest play, The Harmonica In Your Closet, was just published in Stage It! 5: 20 Ten-Minute Plays. It’s about cultural appropriation, and it includes kippahs and dashikis. The info is on my Amazon page below. (And no, you don’t have to buy it.)
My latest monologue, Cheating Schmeating, which is about—you guessed it—was just named as a finalist in Paradox Theatre’s New Works Festival. I’d love to go to Chicago to see it but I’m Delta-variant shy.
You know what? I can’t do this anymore. It feels kind of . . . boastful. I’ll list a few of my misses in my next post. For now I’m going to hop and spend some time with Josh. I hope you have a great weekend. And don’t forget to get your jab. Be well!
Feeling Trumped. (But I’m Almost Done.)
There’s a reason I haven’t contributed to this blog in well over a year. And with a plethora of SENTIMENTS ABOUT FAMILY, SOCIETY, AND DUMBFOUNDING HUMAN BEHAVIOR, there’s really no excuse. It’s not that I haven’t been writing—as paralyzed and hopeless as I’ve been feeling for the past 1109 days—it’s just that every time I start to unload on my computer I’m incited by another ridiculous, jaw-dropping political event, and my blood pressure goes up. I have to stop clicking in preparation for the sleazy, salacious details. Am I “shocked” about the latest national insult? Of course not. Demoralized, but never surprised.
I know I’m not the only one who’s been stuck in mud and despondent over our president’s antics. I have plenty of friends who’ve re-enameled their teeth because they’ve gritted them so much for the past three years. (That’s actually a lie, I don’t even know if there’s a procedure for that except for wearing one of those horse-bit things at night.) But I do know people who, like me, have taken to the bed only to throw their covers over their heads and pray that it’s just been an ugly, protracted dream.
I mean—and I know you’ve heard this before—it’s just that when you compound Trump’s behaviors with the sins of his relentless defenders—and they’re buzzing all over the place like worker bees—you wonder how the country will ever recover and regain its equilibrium. You attempt to hold on to your personal guardrails and remain stable in a republic you don’t recognize anymore. One that is morphing into an autocracy every day. This shit keeps me up at night. As well as the 24-hour news cycle.
I must liberate myself from the tyranny that is Trump. I’ve given my power over to him and I’m ashamed of myself. Besides, I have too much work piling up. And I don’t care if I sound melodramatic about all this. I’m a dramatist after all, so it’s okay. But more importantly, I’m an uber patriot, daughter of a double war veteran who’s just heartbroken about the current state of our union. I don’t care how good the economy is. (Don’t repeat that to my husband.) If I scratch my head one more time about the dumbfounding things I’ve witnessed lately I’ll need hair replacement soon. (Like tomorrow.)
Yes, you’ve heard all of this before. I swear I’ll refrain from posting anything else about our Useful-Idiot-In-Chief. I won’t mention his breathlessly corrupt colleagues, his turkey-necked partner-in-crime, McConnell, his treasonous, two-faced toady, Lindsay Graham, and the rest of the sycophantic turncoats in Congress. I won’t mention my disgust over the neutered impeachment trial, or the clear and present danger of Fox and Friends, The Hannity File, The Ingraham Angle, The Rush Limbaugh Show, and the Lou Dobbs whatever.
Yes, I’m done feeling Trumped, it’s just too unhealthy. I mean it. And you better damn well bet I’m taking it to the ballot box. Hell, I don’t care if the democratic nominee is Tarzan, he’ll get my vote. He’s certainly smarter and more civilized than the malignancy in office now. Take heart patriots and international friends, an election is upon us, and the American nightmare will soon be over! That’s what I tell myself anyway, when I finally cast off my covers, ready to face another unpredictable, “shocking” day.