Because “Because Fuck This Shit” is just so right, feels so good when you say it.

Because We The People are in an abusive relationship with the 1%.

Because We are angry and tired of being abused, fucked with, dismissed.

Because Fuck This Shit. Motherfuckers.

The Other Side Of The Family…

Yes I said I would cut off Your Father’s dick if I saw him at your graduation. Bad dog, very bad dog. So sorry. Very Sorry.

But he is The Other Side Of The Family. A side I never realized existed until recently. But it has always been there. Almost from the beginning. When your father said that he could not take your sister into his heart and love her as his own. Even though he made that commitment at our Flower-la-Daisy wedding. Me with flowers around my head and he with the shirt I made him from a beautiful old tablecloth. You a baby in my arms. There in the spiritual shadow of The Great Mountain with friends and family.

Looking out the window at the blue gums, tears streaming down I realized that, qué sorpresa, I was angry. Still am.

Yes, saying that was wrong, but I was angry then and I am still angry now. The Shadow of The Other Side Of The Family was still shadowing. The shadow of Mt. Shasta was indeed still shadowing. That I was blamed for Your Father’s heart not taking in your sister and therefor me and for leaving. That indeed Bud The Patriarch had won. From his grave perhaps he smiles. The smallness of it all in the context of the Great Spirituality at which we were all playing, the irony cannot be lost.

Where the fuck was The Other Side Of The Family when we were living in a dilapidated remade garage. I was working full time. Paying for child care. And at the end of three weeks had not enough money for food for us. WHERE THE FUCK WHERE THEY? Yes. Ah, the anger is Palpable. Indeed.

Marriage is a funny thing. It is the bonding of two people AND their families. In India the woman goes and lives with the husband’s family for better or worse.

Where were they when I struggled through grad school. When I got a third degree because I would not be able to teach because I would not be able to stay where we were. Because I would have to move and it would be hard on the two of you.

I powered through that first summer after my MFA on anger. It served me well.

I would succeed and take care of my family. Be the father and the mother. Damn them. I woke up at 2am to finish the discreet mathematics problems that I could not do a 11 at night because my mind was spongy. I discovered that at 2am after sleeping I could think clearly. That I needed to eat meat because I was thinking so hard. That I could get up at six and be in the math library at eight when it opened. That I had to go to Every help session. But I could do it. And do better than those 20 years younger. That I could be number one in my classes. That I could think better and faster than the men. That anger became my friend. But it does not serve me now.

And then you said you wanted to go live with Your Father. Was it before I did that last year? It must have been. I let you go. It hurt. It hurt your sister more. Much more. So sad. But you made the right decision. For you. I am so glad that you got to live in a safe place with someone who loved you. It is a great relief to me now.

And a sadness. The anger and the sadness have bad boundaries. We Californians would not approve.

Now still quick to anger I feel too a deep emptiness in my belly. Comes up. And tears. Damn them. Not the tears.

Yes. Because Fuck This Shit. All of it.

All of them. The ones that refuse help. That feel smug in their Deservedness. Their Greed. You know Who I mean. Fuck them. We The People are now standing. We are taking back our lives. And the lives of those to come. And the lives of those that live in the trees. And that live in the ocean and those that fly in the air. Yes and on the ice. Everyone. Because.