I'm angry

May. 26th, 2011 03:59 pm
pandora_parrot: (Default)
One of the things I've been exploring in the past few months is the ability to be ANGRY at people.

I'm feeling a lot of anger today.

Read more... )
pandora_parrot: (anger)
This is... heavily ranty. I was going to write a more reasonable response to the nonsense at Bilerico on my blog, but that will have to wait in favor of this: This is not a reasoned argument. This is an expression of pain.
Read more... )
pandora_parrot: (anger)
Warning: RAGE ahead.

So... Although I really like the interior of my place, I'm afraid I'm going to have to move again once I have the energy and money to do so.

Why?

Because the people that run this apartment complex are anal-retentive OCD dick-wads.

The first problem was that the laundry room got locked at 8pm sharp, every single day. Not just closed, but LOCKED. And it didn't matter if my stuff was in there or not. Locked up until tomorrow morning. Since I get home at 7pm from work most days, that just doesn't work for me.

Next is what happened a few days ago. They are saying that my car is parked illegally and they are going to tow my car if I don't fix the problem.

Why? You might ask?

Well, the car is sitting my my spot and no one else's. I have my parking pass in there and they definitely saw it. And they have my license plate number on file and know whose car it is. So what could possibly be the issue here?

Well, because of the odd design of my car, the parking pass does not fit on my rear-view mirror. Because of that, I had it sitting on my dashboard. It had managed to slide into the crack between my windshield and my dashboard. I know they still saw it, because they took photos of it.

So what's the deal?

The deal was that the parking pass was *partially obscured* by the bottom of the windshield.

And because of that, they recorded my license plate number, took a bunch of photos of my car, threw a big orange "YOU ARE PARKED ILLEGALLY" sticker on my car that was nearly impossible to scrape off, and threatened me with the towing of my car.

Excuse me? Fucking excuse me?

This is fucking nuts. If this is the way this place is run, I'm out of here as soon as I have the energy to leave. Fucking dumb ass shit morons.

Beauty

Nov. 8th, 2006 07:14 pm
pandora_parrot: (anger)
I want to scream...



There is little that hurts me as much as seeing the pervasive myth of beauty hurting people I love.

In my reality, the question I ask is not "Are you beautiful?" but rather "In what way are you beautiful?" It is NOT new-agey we-love-the-world crap to say that there is beauty in everyone... I can SEE it... and I can FEEL it...

I think it's a fantasy to think that anyone can be ugly... and I think that it is a delusion to believe that there is ANY standard of beauty that can be universally applied to all people. There cannot be absolute measurements of beauty in a world where attractiveness and beauty are determined by individual interactions, and those interactions vary as much as they do in our world.

It is an axiom of my beliefs that no matter who you are, what you believe, what you look like, etc. there will always be those that think you are the ugliest person on the planet, and others that see you as the most beautiful creature they have ever laid eyes upon. And it's not just about "inner beauty" alone, but about physical appearance, too.

When people look at you, they see a reflection of how you see yourself. Change how you see yourself, and you'll change what others see as well.

Oh, and you REALLY need to read this as an analysis of why our culture views beauty the way it does. Each person and thing has beauty because life is a diversity of qualities, not a one dimensional ranking of qualities...

A truly radical resolution would be to embrace existence just as it is, as the only thing that matters, to proclaim that this world itself is heaven, made for our total enjoyment and fulfillment. . . and then, to ask: If that’s the case, how do we act accordingly? What have we been doing wrong all this time?

In doing so, we would finally have to accept and embrace ourselves exactly as we are, in all our diversity and variety, and free ourselves from the shadow of the false heaven of Plato and the advertising agents, where “real” beauty supposedly resides. Liberated entirely from standards, from the lingering ghost of Christian judgment and condemnation, we could see that what we are must itself constitute the measure and meaning of beauty, of dignity and magnificence, if such concepts are to exist at all.

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