A Random Image

Archive for May, 2001

 
|| May 22, 2001 || 1:24 am || Comments (0) ||

Okay, I SWORE that I would not say another word about the Kaycee scenario…..I SWORE that I would stay away from that newest thread at MeFi, and the one over at Yahoo!Groups.

Boy, am I glad that I lied to myself. I am glad tonight that I was weak as all get-out. I find it ironic, as will some of my long-term readers, that I make it a point NOT to take in the news in all its’ glorious forms, but I was there whilst this story was being fleshed out in that MeFi thread. The internet community sniffed out the truth and we JUMPED the story on EVERYONE. Flat-out scooped ‘em.

I should say that the story was flushed out into the open. This happened because the perpetrator(s) of this hoax seemed to have followed the stranger-by-the-minute conversation on samesaid MetaFilter thread. It seems that collectively, we put the puzzle together. A person brought a piece in *here*. Placed it….just…..so. People tell her to go the hell away, there IS NO PUZZLE. She said, “Fuck you,” and stuck around with her puzzle piece. Hell, she even scraped up a couple more. Another person brought a piece in *here*. Another person brought a piece in *there*. Placed them…..just…..so. Yet another person brought in a whole fucking corner. After that, the pieces come easier.

[Part of] Guilty party caves….panicks and confesses, before a lynch mob pulls a Yahoo!Map to her doorway and uses it.

It seems that this sicko housewife/mother/apparently unhinged person was using the photographs of a young lady who played ball (I am purposely not stating her name and posting a link to her true identity; people will probably find it out soon enough, and I wish her a good night’s sleep before all hell breaks loose in her life) for a Christian University in the Midwest to perpetuate the scam. Oddly enough, the scam began with her prepubescent daughter and instead of squashing it upon discovery, mom scoops it up, embellishes it, makes it her own. It picked up a following. Eventually, it got too big and had to be killed off out of necessity. Someone somewhere would have to produce a body, and if that body didn’t match the one of a young female roundballer somebody’s goose would be served up with dumplings at the next fraud feast.

And if the irony that all of the pieces were gleaned using the web and it’s wondrous tools, available to anyone with a dial-up and a machine, should somehow escape you: ALL OF THE PIECES WERE GLEANED USING THE WEB AND IT’S WONDROUS TOOLS THAT ARE AVAILABLE TO ANYONE WITH A DIAL-UP AND A MACHINE…HOW IRONIC!

And, for the record, I know that there are other significant parts to this story that haven’t been discovered or played out yet.

My final prediction here is that more than one story will start with something akin to this:

“Her name was not Kaycee and she was not my daughter…..”
So ends the internet saga of Debbie and Kaycee….

 
|| May 21, 2001 || 2:39 am || Comments (0) ||

Shit, man….SHIT. Kaycee was a LIE. A big, fat motherfucking LIE. Given my predisposition to think the worst of the human race, why am I surprised?

Welllll, not so much surprised as perplexed. WTF??


For those of us who keep journal’s, and blog’s and we tell the truth in them, and are trusting enough to believe that other’s are telling the truth as well, this is a big deal.

This whole issue has raised an indelible ruckus on a big hunk of the web. Some of Kaycee’s most ardent supporters and defenders have a mighty web presence and their names have been defiled. There was all kinds of sympathy and kinsmanship with this *supposed* girl who was *supposedly* dying of cancer. There were all sorts of outpourings upon the supposition that she lived, and undiluted grieving on the occasion of her ‘untimely death’. Hell, there was even a message board started to offer Debbie (*supposed* mom extraordinaire) and family condolence messages. All kinds of suckers left them.

I am not immune. Mine is on page 4. The subject has been and is being lukewarmly debated over at MetaFilter. Not for long. The ‘weekday webbers’ will log on at offices all over the nation later this morning and boy howdy, will they every be PISSED. Let the insane public outcry commence! Let the heads roll!

Let us all just get on with our lives…..

I think back in earnest now, and readily admit that I was a party to my own duping. I mean, come on, I have seen more than one person amble on through the stages that lead to death. I’ve even written about some in this forum. Not one –let me repeat for the record, NOT FUCKING ONE– met 90% of the moments with grace and dignity and good humor and an oh-so-sparkly attitude. So I allowed myself to be tricked even though I have lived it and actually know better, because it made for good copy. A story is supposed to make you feel, right? Everyone needs a good heroine once in a while, don’t they?…even if, like me, they usually ABHOR the gushy, idealized, romancey-type hoo-hah??

“You see, the reality of Kaycee doesn’t matter. The fallout is what does.”
Amen, brother…whoever the heck said it, that is….I have perused so many opinions in the last three hours that I stopped taking notes. Kindly forgive my plagiarism.

Anyway, back to my own duping, and the duping of those far nobler and wiser than I:

The simple fact of it is that, in today’s society, reality sells. No one really seems to care that it’s a prepackaged, glammed-up or smutted-down version of reality, ’cause drama sells as well. Give us something with even the merest dose of ‘reality’ and we gobble it up for real fare, buffoons that we are. At present I am reflecting on the fact that the words ‘fare’ and ‘farce’ just ain’t that far apart and it makes me cackle like a loony bird. We are the largest symptoms of our own conditions, but far too unwise and self-absorbed to realize it. Someone on one of the MetaFilter threads wondered if the mainstream media would pick this up. Well fuck yeah, they will….20/20 will have an in-depth profile of the whole debacle as a matter of course. They will interview people that do matter and cut out the most important things that they have to say on this; they will interview people that don’t matter and include the most irrelevant of bullshit. Some people will be hanging their heads in shame that they were so thoroughly had while others are jumping around, SweatHog-esque, screaming, “Oooh, ooooh, I knew her, I knewwwww herrrrr!”, pick-me style. Pfft.

And people have been hurt unnecessarily. And more cynics have been created. The existing cynics are morosely right.

And we all have been de-sensitized to an even greater degree. Thanks, Debbie, you disturbed freak of nature. Thanks a wad, you dirty bitch. You need help. In the absence of you seeking if for yourself, I hope someone heaps out an extra-large dose of intervention on your ass.

I know that I am sounding angry here, but that’s not the scope of my thoughts on this. I won’t lie, I’m not hugely saddened. I’m sort of relieved. Most of all I am insanely perplexed.

A couple of people over there to the left of your screen “knew” Kaycee and have been conspicuously quiet about this whole thing. Perhaps they are ignoring, which is smart. Perhaps they are waiting for the jury to convene after all the evidence has rolled on in, which is smarter. We’ll see what the next couple of days or weeks shakes out. Should be more interesting than your average trainwreck….

Since I have to retire to the comfort of my bed now, I shall leave you with the perceptions of some others:

http://redgie.blogspot.com/

http://home.san.rr.com/denbeste/trust.html

http://www.albuquerque-stories.com/liz/

http://cockywrds.diaryland.com/010519_86.html

http://cockywrds.diaryland.com/010520_63.html

http://heliophobic.net/wunderblog/

http://www.anywherebeyond.com/2001/0501/051701.html

http://www.anywherebeyond.com/2001/0501/051801.html

http://www.powazek.com/zoom/log/archive/00000058.shtml#comments

http://www.sperare.com/archives/may01/20may01.html

http://www.logboy.com/jr/main.asp

Sleep tight.

 
|| May 19, 2001 || 6:08 pm || Comments (0) ||

Oh great, I have to follow “Hell Is For Children” with my trifle…

I posted this to a thread about bad hotel rooms:

A couple of years back, me and the Significant Other™ went to Chicago to catch a friend’s bands and we thought that we’d be hooking up with some people to crash at their place.

Well…

It didn’t work out that way and we found ourselves trying to score accomodations at 2 a.m. All we needed was a place to sleep and we didn’t want to pay megabucks, so we spotted a place that looked a little seedy, but not dreadful. The price was decent, so we went for it.

Well…

The only thing missing from the complete Blues Brothers experience was there wasn’t an old guy yelling, “Ya got my Cheeze Whiz, boy?”, at us. The place had community bathrooms (none in the room) including a tub that looked totally unused and the sounds of weirdness oozing thru the doors as we walked the halls to our room. It was tiny and “rustic”, but we figured we wouldn’t get murdered in our sleep. I quoted “Fours Rooms – The Misbehavors” segment by mock-yelling, “There’s a dead whore in the bed!”

SO™ said, “It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you, but I don’t want to take off my clothes in here.”

Since I’d already been having the same thoughts, we sacked out in our clothes ON TOP of the covers. We awoke with our hair, teeth and other body parts intact and not for auction on eBay. Whew!

We’re going back in June. (We already have a room booked at a OK place we’ve stayed before.)

 
|| May 19, 2001 || 1:27 pm || Comments (0) ||

The conversation started innocently enough. Sam and I were sitting in the music room having a loose lesson and talking.

I like conversating with my eldest child. He asks great questions and comes at most topics with a different perspective than myself. He sort of has this backward way of reasoning, but his own brand of logic opens up a train of thought that is not found in most (especially boys) his age.

There was a pause as his hands lost their position on the strings; I thought he was struggling to remember a note, or how to fret it. I waited, not wanting to interrrupt the relaxed silence. After a brief time he looked up.

When Samuel looks at you, you get the sense that he is looking into you, trying to solve your puzzle. To some, it can be very disconcerting. To me, it is quite endearing, because with that look he conveys all of the best things that I love about him: his compassionate nature, his intellect, his soulful personal warmth, his desire to truly understand. We have had a rough time here lately (it is my understanding from other parents with sons this age that all nine-year-old boys lose their brain/common sense along the way…something to do with preparing them for puberty, I suppose), but he is a good kid with a good heart and I not only love him, I like him as well.

Don’t laugh. My momma always said that “Hey, you’re my kid. I have to love you. I don’t always have to LIKE you, but I have to love you.” Now that I am a mother thrice over, I see what she meant. If all your switches are flipped in the proper direction, having children will be one of the greatest affairs of the heart in your whole life.

So yeah, Sam looked up at me and said, “Mommy,” and I knew that this one was going to be heavy. He stopped calling me mommy a couple of years ago.

“Mommy, why are some parents mean to their children?”

It was direct and it was powerful. The earnest way he said it, coupled with him using ‘children’ instead of ‘kids’ made it sound for all the world like a little adult was sitting in front of me. I needed clarification, however. Sometimes your offspring’s definition of ‘mean’ is a little broad….like when you say they can’t go out and ride their bike thirty minutes before bedtime because they have already had a bath.

“What do you mean, son?”

“Well, you know when we went on that field trip to Chattanooga to the aquarium the other day? Alex told me and Ryan some stuff, and now I’m worried for him.”

“What stuff, Sam? What’d he say?”

“Well, he said that his dad lives in Chattanooga and he wishes he could live with him instead of his mother. He told me that the day before his mom hit him on the head with a hairbrush and then picked him up and threw him in the bathtub.

“You know, he could’ve gotten hurt really bad, mom. He could’ve cracked his head open in that tub.”

I felt deflated. How do I respond to this? How do I make him understand, when I don’t understand shit like this myself? Our charge as parents is to protect and nurture and guide our children. It is a frustrating and daunting task at times, to be sure. I would challenge any parent’s truth meter if they swore that they had never had the desire to chuck their kid out the window; everyone gets THAT FRUSTRATED sometimes. You have these little people with not one whit of logical reasoning, challenging your authority on their own well-being. That’s where judicious discipline/punishment comes in. And you discount the urge to tie them up until they become reasonable again. Take a breath….send them to their room until you feel more reasonable. Go have a sit-down. Stabilize yourself so that you can be an EFFECTIVE parent.

I asked more questions and Sam asked more questions and we discussed the whole issue. He told me more things that sickened me. Now I find myself in the midst of a moral dilemma. Do I trust the words of a third-grader, via hearsay, and involve myself? What if this kid is a chronic liar? My son says that he is typically a truthful guy, but how do I know that for sure? Do I discuss it with the boys’ teacher, and let it go from there? How much is too much? How little is not enough? I earnestly want to help this child, but I want to really help, not just salve my conscience….

Childabuse.org

National Clearinghouse on Child Abuse and Neglect Information

Child Abuse Prevention Network

Prevent Child Abuse America

ICAN

Child Abuse Yellow Pages

 
|| May 18, 2001 || 11:55 am || Comments (0) ||

I can now say with a somewhat smug satisfaction, “My blog is pretty.”

I am going to take a nap. I got nada sleep last night and we have a gig tonite. I must needs be minty-fresh.

 
|| May 18, 2001 || 8:41 am || Comments (0) ||

I’ve spent the last hour trying to clean up the code, but methinks it still looks like shite. FrontPage seems to have thrown in all these extra/redundant/unnecessary tags. And my eyeballs are starting to rebel, having had to strain through enough lines already.

 
|| May 18, 2001 || 12:56 am || Comments (0) ||

Okay, and there you have it. My first major overhaul.

Dirk, pessimist that he is, still sees all the work. I do too, but this last couple of hours nearly gave me an effing breakdown, okay??

I plan to shape up the archives page first, and then come back to this one. All in all, is better…no?