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Sunday, March 22, 2015

There's a saying, to put yourself in other people's shoes...

I was slothfully very young when told to put myself in the shoes of others. I understood it was not to be literally. I wouldn't have done that with other's stinky shoes, being a gross child, myself. I heard it from all sorts of directions. I've heard children are sponges. I certainly thought about some of the things I was aware of hearing and I thought about what it would be like to be someone else. That must be when the bad dreams started .
There's the story of the boy that cried wolf. I'll never understand why anyone would willingly prefer to be a parasitic psycho for the cheap thrills of de-molecularizing their own DNA just to be a nasty something or other liar, etc. Not only does the boy put himself in danger making stuff up and gets himself killed but it's for the very reason he loses credibility so that no one believes him when he finally does tell the truth. No one comes to his aid when he screams for it. I had a vivid imagination, could see and hear the god-awful visuals playing out and don't feel it's necessary to put forth gory details .
So psychos say, too, that honesty is everything while using the come hither articulations that sound so good to those that want to believe them as they complain about the dishonesty of certain folk that may or not be dishonest, depending on what party who is affiliated with. There are so many camps that make stuff up and are so obviously wrong, like a boy thinking it would be fun to have the villagers run out to his rescue until he'd no longer be believed. Political, religious, judicial... Is there global warming climate change? Is poison being purposefully put into our food? Is there a Jesus? I have my own answers to these questions and they are all meaningless to me as far as others telling me what's what. A slow extinction is happening now to all life forms so I'm not even worried about the possible zombie apocalypse I keep hearing about... an extra strong oncoming rabies epidemic?
When I was in first grade and was handed a questionnaire that wanted a box checked for my race, the woman alleging to be my mother told me to mark caucasian, that I could pass for a whitey and life would be easier. Why the school sent that questionnaire out when the government has its census stuff to waste more time on seems like an extra waste of time. They never taught me what caucasian meant, which seems to be wrong anyhow since I wasn't born in the caucus mountains and I didn't figure it out for years. Being a whitey is not as helpful as I was told, either.
The superior religious family I was allegedly lucky to be in, of husband patriarch, wife and three point whatever children may as well have had a grand master dragon saying grace at the head of the table. There were no discussions about news, literature, history... Life was just an empty merry go round of school, church and the not so merry with the go rounds, as we emulated the peaceful jesus bringing a sword. And we were to be happy, alway happy to not have the contradictions explained. while chewing tough, jaw aching liver, be happy we weren't starving in China.
While it's possible to empathize with how others think or feel, I as my body could never sprout from anywhere other than whence I came.
With an unnoticed certain word used that I also didn't quite understand, in conjunction with the idea that a certain other group were in danger of certain hot lower than southern places because they were said to have killed a god or a god's son, depending on the church we went to at the time, rarely mentioned as it was, mortal people killed some son of a god, a saviour... that got killed... by Roman soldiers... being told what to do by an enslaved people?
I never understood it then, I'll never understand it now. A slave threatened by soldiers might say anything.
The separation of church and state was being made a bit of a big deal of. Being taught the pledge of allegiance to an inanimate banner, figure head, standard that can have its meaning changed with its vague symbols and all anyone has to do is claim they're superior with authority and they can take a pair of twins and try to sew the eyes of one onto the back of the head of the other? The shwastica was once a symbol for good things and it was easily tainted.
I had to listen to preachers that should never find a soapbox as they stand behind fancy podiums bought from tithes and pretend to explain what this god in heaven wants or intends while said god is supposedly unknowable and saying saying black people were created to be slaves and the Jewish people would really learn about suffering when jesus allegedly finally comes back. That was way back in the 1970s, it was, "any day now!"
Nostradamus, yeah I could have the spelling wrong, predictions for the end, THE END! was estimated for the late 1980s. I had. written it down from a documentary that was on a cable channel back then.
There's a really interesting book called Popular Delusions and the Madness of the Crowds. Or something like that. It's sort of like a grown-up. Goops and How Not to be One. I can't remember the authors but those are something to remember :) I guess for some,, not forcing a mind to rot through non-reasoning is near impossible though I still may not have half a mind, even. Did I say that right? or backwards?
Remembering fondly of walking through the front door after school and hearing an already brewing tirade of what rotten brats we were, "why can't you put yourselves in my shoes?! And I would think, why do they act like they've got it so hard if this is their free will and, you should be happy you're not starving in China..." I had enough brain to not say that outloud. So we took turns putting ma's high heeled shoes on. It seems the phrase is more for mental posturing and false sympathy, comparing who I've learned whatever from. To find out later that the favorite, baby of the house was getting into things. so older siblings would be punished for the evil steps they're to be and a superior wise parent cares not about what's fair with, "Tough!" If women are like, childishly bouncing around with confused hormonal emotions expecting that having children will be like playing with dolls that girls are given to pretend nurturing, they're in for a miserable struggle against against what churches and allegedly Hitler call "material" that matter called evil simply for being the husk "created" fer killin'.
And that's another thing, another long page made short. Are we agreed that if psychos are happiest in making others miserable, then true misery is not interested in company or coming close to those shoes to wear.
That bad saying of misery loving company, when it's psychos are at their happiest in causing miseries, organizing project paperclips and Tuskegee syphilis experiments.
When I had my few miserable moments, it's been years since I had a headache, cold or vomited... But I was never in the mood to have anyone around me or be around anyone that could complain of my moaning and make me feel worse, which must make me a false psycho to laugh about it. If putting myself in the shoes of others makes me a negative downer, so it is done.
End on a joke? Knock knock.
Who's there?
I know, it's a terrible joke.
Leave a comment, whatever.

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