I have been trying, with a good measure of success until just recently, to separate the teeth-gnashing, hair-pulling, rabid, slobbering angry venting of this political blog ... from my perverse, slutty, self-absorbed and delightfully nasty essays on my life at my other blog.
So, early on I decided to separate church and state and have a "Lives and Times" blog and a separate "I Hate The Patriarchal, War-Mongering, Right-Wing, Dick-Wanking, Corporate American Life" blog.
Well it turns out, 7 months later, and much to your amazement, I'm sure, very few people in my family and a tiny few of my friends actually bother reading anything I write so, my blogging friends, total strangers whom I've had the pleasure of meeting while actually being myself for the first time in my life, the coast is fucking clear.
I'm not sure why, but in the beginning (before God created the bugs and trees), I had this hilarious notion that my family would read my main blog and disown me if I said anything political beyond "I will obey the patriarchy." So I started this blog to vent my political outrage. Only one niece has subscribed, for which I give her credit, because the family scorn can be quite terrible. She's a sensible girl, even though she used to get excited about living in DC and watching Dick Cheney's limo convoy going off to work each morning ... with Scooty Libby in the back seat plotting the outing of Valerie Plame. But who's paying attention to details, ya know?
I also thought that if I included my political views in my main blog, some of my friends back in Arizona would be offended and harrumph off to their nice little consumer-driven, SUV- and Harley-driving Disneyland lives and nod to each other over $50 bottles of wine and illegal Cuban cigars, after paying cash to the illegal aliens who clean their house and whom they hope their right-wing votes will eventually deport, because those fuckers have the nerve to suck us Americans dry of all our social services, and are filling up the rooms of all our hospitals and doctor's office waiting rooms. (I've had to wait in line behind them hundreds of times, haven't you?) We need to get rid of all the brown people, you know, because they sure do clutter things up. But hopefully they'll get the yard and the house clean before they go back to their homelands. And maybe we can get a bunch of pasty white "real" Americans to work in the kitchens of our $35-per-plate hip and trendy restaurants, muck out the toilets, or definitely wash the dishes in those taco joints that we love so much when we're in the mood for "slummin' it."
Meanwhile, in between tokes of their illegal Mexican sinsemilla designer pot, (I'm still talking about my friends here; not their Mexican laborers), they never ever discuss the BILLIONS of their own tax dollars that have fueled an illegal and totally fucking worthless war that has killed thousands of US soldiers (oh well, they were poor and it was a risk those kids took to better their lives by joining the military. We're grateful that those hillbillies joined up because our own kids were too busy fucking off in college to join up for this war that we completely support.) and killed over a million Iraqis and put another 2 million Iraqis out of their homes.
No. They just talk about how whacked that Lisa Wines has become - moving off to France with her rock n' roll journalist boyfriend and selling everything she owns for a pittance so she can become a writer.
But I'm not bitter. Not at all.
I don't think I'll have any friends or family left after this post, but what the heck, who's paying attention to details anyway?
Here are the two recent posts over at my other blog with some political snarky talk, in case you aren't subscribed to both of my blogs:
Image courtesy of the Library of Congress. It is entitled Enraged Macaroni and depicts a woman fish vendor holding fish in the face of a dandy who is pulling a knife from a sheath, as another woman, in the window behind him, cuts his hair. What attracted me was my name over the top of the door: Wines.