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Jett Superior laid this on you on || July 15, 2003 || 10:14 pm

I really wanted to do something else with this space tonight, but c’est la vie, c’est la guerre…say, let’s have another beer!

Since he posted our first couple e-mails as weblog fodder over four days ago, and since he neglected to include the (what I assume to be) final correspondence (wonder why, hmmm?), penned by me, I’ll go to it.

You know, in the interest of fairness and all.

Sent by eedle ole me on 11 July:

Line-by-line, as I am The Great Princess Strokebrain and would lose my tenuously-held train of thought were I to scroll back and forth trying to make a cohesive reply….

You seem like a great lady and I am certain that you and I would be wonderful friends over a pot of coffee.

Actually, a jigger of tequila, but I see that will not work for you. Mountain Dew is an adequate substitute.

I am no ogre,

Of course you’re not….that was not my implication nor my statement.

“… but I do stand beside my right to find humor in the name ‘Tourette’s’ and in the condition itself.”

Really, it’s one of the least humorous disorders I’ve ever seen. What’s funny about fucked-up brain chemistry that makes your body betray you in such a way, that makes it difficult to function at times, that is largely uncontrollable and unpredictable? What’s funny about clacking your jaw shut over and over and over for three days straight so that your head hurts and you don’t even want to eat because your teeth and face ache so badly? What is funny about having your speech blocked for hours or days at a time, inexplicably? What’s humorous in arm tics that make your arms jerk uncontrollably so that someone has to feed you even though you are neither mentally nor *truly* physically incapacitated? Where is the humor in feeling that everywhere you turn –when you are experiencing behaviors beyond your control that others don’t understand– people are mocking and staring and laughing at you? Really, I see no humor from your standpoint. You’ve not lived this disorder, Chris. You haven’t earned the right to poke fun.

There was a (wonderful) short article in Esquire a year or so ago by a guy with Tourette’s who recounted some of his experiences with shouting vegetable names (‘potato’, etc) in public that
was hysterical.

Yeah, some tics are funnier than others. Most aren’t any fun, however.

Tourette’s is a funny thing, Elizabeth, and so are midgets, effeminate homosexuals, people who stutter (you didn’t laugh during A Fish Called Wanda, not even once?), fat people (I am one – and, yes, I think Mike Myers movies are funny), people with ‘lazy’ eyes (are you looking at me?), Indians (I never tire of asking my friend Anoop What Would Ganesh Do?), Jewish women who really are shrill and hysterical, butch lesbians (Hey! The Indigo Girls are on Letterman!), rednecks (inbred or non), drunks (I am one of those, too, and there is no shortage of AA jokes), guilt-ridden Catholics, slutty stewardesses (God bless ‘em one and all), young anorexic girls, the list just goes on and on...”

God bless America, and God bless our right to disagree. And boy howdy do I disagree. Please don’t mistake me for some humorless, tight-assed bitch. I have a riotous sense of humor. Ask any of my regular readers; they’ll tell you that they keep coming back and back again because I make them laugh like hell all the time. I find this sort of humor –the sort bred of ignorance– somewhat….distasteful. Rednecks ARE funny, as are guilt-ridden Catholics and slutty stewardesses. ANY woman who is shrill and hysterical, heritage/faith notwithstanding, is not funny; they are annoying as all-fuck and should be bound and gagged.

I am not your child’s parent

I’ll have to agree. There were only two of us there when he was conceived. I’m pretty sure of that because I just so happened to have been sober that night! WOO!

“… but here’s what I’d tell any kid about growing up ‘different’ (I weighed almost 200 pounds by 5th grade): Learn to laugh at it or you will get eaten alive.

Funny how people ALWAYS tend to skip over that part where I discuss how we feel that humor is a necessity. Why IS that? This entry here (yes, that one there) is mostly serious, but there are a couple flashes of our goofiness in it. My weblog is for discussing the adult side of the house about this thing, about *not* having to put on the brave and humorous face for my kid. Maybe it doesn’t ring heavy on the giddy irreverence side of the house when I’m writing about the TS very often, but we have lots of those moments, I assure you. We Superiors are two notches shy of gibbering and insane. It makes for great family portraits and much gleeful abandon, even in times of distress.

That whole ‘educate for tolerance’ shtick goes over like a lead balloon with kids and if they ever smell weakness on another child or a ‘yearning for acceptance’ it will be like blood to sharks.

In our case, and in the cases of many others, I’ve found this not to be so. Kids oftentimes ridicule and scapegoat other kids out of fear. Hell, lots of adults do it, too. The kids at my son’s school have been GREAT, even locked in a room with my son rat-tat-tatting for hours on end, for the most part. The rest, well, that’s just hard knocks and we all get them. We learn to deal, or we sink. I do not coddle my boy. I’m pragmatic, I’m a realist, and I want my children (all of ‘em, not just the eldest) to be hardy and well-adjusted. Following behind them, cooing and wiping their noses, will not accomplish this.

The boy is really centered. He doesn’t do whiny, ‘yearning for acceptance’ –not beyond your average pre-teen angst– hooha because I will not tolerate it. The other kids like him. He’s got tons of pals. He’s funny and creative and smart as all hell. Girls chase after him, despite the fact that he reminds them they still have cooties.

What ‘growing up different’ makes you is tough, compassionate, quick witted, sharp tongued, and a little mean.

Hell, honey, he comes by that naturally. I am, after all, his mother.

And if I had my life to live over again I’d choose to be the fat kid again and I’d choose tough, compassionate, quick witted, sharp tongued, and mean.

Believe it or don’t, I’ve never wished this away. *shrug* We all have our ‘things’. This thing is his. I am teaching him to own it and go from there.

I do – sincerely – understand your pain and your anger and your rage over how the world is treating your son and his condition.

It’s not the world. We’re not martyrs like that. I will say, though, that most of people’s behavior (in a negative sense, and that includes the pity bullshit) is based on lack of knowledge. An EXTREME lack of knowledge and BOATLOADS of misinformation. I’m here to enlighten. Yep, me an’ Jesus. Hold on, I have to go plug in my halo…it needs a recharge.

That makes you a good mother.”

Well, you do what you can with what ya got.

I’d be willing to wager that in a few years you will be much more sensitive to this subject than your son ever thought about being.”

You may be right, but I hope not. I’m striving to raise compassionate individuals. And you know what? He’ll NEVER get wind of my sensitivity. Number one, that’s not my way, and number two (haaaaaahahaha, number two), the LAST thing the world needs is another emotionally crippled over-protected adult.

Ps – I love your blog and plan to add it to my blogroll if that doesn’t bother you too much.”

Thanks…it’s public domain, you link away if you so desire. Feel free to take part in the discussions and the raucous one-upsmanship that goes on in the comments.

I like your blog, too. I peeked around yesterday, and you’ve got some good stuff there. If you ever decide to re-title it, let me know. I’d like to return the link. I hope that you understand why I just can’t bring myself to do so in the interim.

All the best,

.elizAbeth.

So much for taking the ‘diplomatic’ tack. And you people wonder why I prefer a sledgehammer delivery??


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5 worked it out »

  1. Joe 7.16.2003

    Wow, I haven’t been reading your blog for long so I learned something new today. I know what you mean about being just a notch away from insanity, we Oxfords too walk the fine line, but isn’t it a blast? You are the queen of blogging.

     
  2. Jett 7.16.2003

    Joe Oxford, I heart you.

    I heart you because you are an irreverant pup and a Mark Ryden lover, to boot.

    You should check out the rest of the Decablog. I especially think you would like the Samurai Barber and  

  3. Jett 7.16.2003

    whoops, see what happens when you are not yet awake and try to format a link?

    I meant, ‘the man known only as ‘Trouble’‘ but somehow I fucked it up.

    Godspeed, Sir Oxford.

     
  4. John 7.16.2003

    Humor based off what others can’t help is the laziest kind. Humor connoisseurs will point out that while comedy may be our only defense against the universe, we don’t have to indulge in all its seedier aspects.

    Having said that, there are things that people can’t help that are fine for making fun of. This is the realm of fart and dick jokes. From the looks of things like Jackass, it’s not ever going to go out of style, nor should it. The day we can no longer find our bodily functions funny, the comedy snobs will have won and we’ll be stuck with the likes of Full House style humor and actually start laughing at knock-knock jokes. IT would be Hell, I say!

     
  5. Funniest. Post. Ever.

     

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