"One out of four females is sexually abused in some way during her lifetime, domestic violence happens in both dating and marriage relationships to one out of ten women, girls are being taught that the only thing they are worth is what their bodies offer, the sex trade is still alive and well throughout the world, girls are not protected against rape, incest, and horrific genital mutilation in many countries.”

Good evening people of the internet. I am deviating from the norm of lighthearted entertainment to touch on something a little more somber. As you may have guessed, the subject of this divulgation of my true self (and not merely the merriment of half truths at the expense of others and myself) is the quote above; and more broadly the “abuse” and “oppression” of women in the USA. Perhaps I will even touch on how women are treated world wide (but maybe not, it is getting late where I am, so we will see how far I get).

To maintain some sort of form to this script so it won’t look like I am just chasing rabbits, I will try to write about the paragraph above in the order it is written. However, I want every one to be forewarned, there are no less than 5 (maybe more) very deep topics that will test the weak frame of my mind to its limits to try and put my answers into words.


“One out of four females is sexually abused in some way during her lifetime, domestic violence happens in both dating and marriage relationships to one out of ten women…”

Let me first say that I have nothing but the deepest respect for women. But I also believe that men are superior to women in strength (for the most part) and (again for the most part) in the ability to reason and use logic. I would also like to say that this not 100% true. There are women that could tear my arms off without breaking a sweat, and my mom is not only the smartest woman I know, but the smartest person in the world (it could be just because she is my mom, but I have yet to see anyone out-think her).

Also you should operate under the knowledge that I am a Christian so I will also be using the Bible to guide my thinking.

Here is another presupposition you should look at. How I view authority.

Now, to the meat of the post.

When women are “sexually abused” it is usually done by a man (I will not touch on lesbians in this post, maybe in the future). Sometimes it is their father or brother, but this has nothing to do with the oppression of women in the world so we will jump strait to “spousal” abuse. When dating, “abuse” does not happen when the authority figure of the woman (the father) is around. It is seen when the women has removed herself from the authority (i.e. protection) God has provided for her. If she has no protection, then how can she be safe from a man who is stronger than she?

Because men are stronger, women have only the power that men grant them. This is the way the world of men works. Look at all the wars throughout history. Men have ruled by force, taking what that they want from those that cannot stop them. I am not saying that it is just, merely the way of the world. So, women being the weaker of the two sexes, it is to be expected that men take dominion over them as with everything else. That is why I say that women only have the power men give to them (speaking of men as a sex not individuals).

Therefore, when women “demand” that they be given more “rights,” they are really asking men to grant them more power. Currently those women have as much freedom as men. They now ask men (as a sex) to protect them from individuals when they (the women) have no way of protecting themselves.

Women and men are very different in the way they think, which is one of the reasons women get involved with men that end up beating them. Maybe women should listen to their fathers and brothers when they say, “That guy is not a good guy.” because they, too, are guys, and know how the minds of men work. The same is true in reverse; women are better at reading women than men are.

As I believe I have addressed the first two issues, I proceed to the third.

“…girls are being taught that the only thing they are worth is what their bodies offer…”

I am not sure if this is a wide spread belief, but as far as I know, women have, for some time, been taught otherwise. Most women I have met have been taught that they are, in every way, equal to men. If they are being taught their only use is as a sexual tool it is the feminist moment itself that has taught sexual promiscuity.

“…the sex trade is still alive and well throughout the world…”

I think the answer to the fourth statement is linked to the answer to the second. As these women are taken from their home countries, they are not taken from their fathers house. They have no protection because they insist upon having the rights of men (who have the ability to protect themselves).

“…girls are not protected against rape, incest, and horrific genital mutilation in many countries.”

What we see here in the fifth element of the oppression is the evil inherent in humans. Without God there are all kinds of evil in this world.

However, women in the USA are not protected from rape because (again) they have no protection, which exists in the form of people: “protectors”. Women have opted out of protection for the sake of “rights”. Their only protection is that law enforcement will catch the rapist. The police cannot be everywhere at once and it is not their job to stop crime from taking place through physically beating the perpetrator off the victim. Their job is to investigate crime and apprehend criminals after the fact. In this day and age they are doing very well, but the threat of punishment is not enough to stop someone from doing wrong, which brings us back to protection offered (and refused by daughters) by fathers.

According to the Bible (if we look at the Old Testament (yes I venture there)) we see the consequence for the rape of a virgin was marriage. How can this be? It seems that the father was responsible for the purity of his daughter, and if he did not protect her, then anything could happen to her.

If we are to speak of mutilations, then let us speak of the mutilation we inflict upon ourselves. No, I am not going to talk about priecings and the alteration of our bodies to be more trendy, though I could for hours; but instead I will talk of the cutting open of between 30 and 50 percent of our women to extract a children from them. As one of the most “civilized” countries in the world it would appear that we are too “civilized” for normal child birth.

And let us speak of the tearing apart of unborn children merely because they are inconvenient. Yes, there are unspeakable atrocities committed daily around the world but let us not be too righteous that we cannot see it is our hands that are covered in blood.

As I see it, women are not oppressed (at least not in the west) but have demanded their own release from the protection God has given them. Then, when men take advantage of their weakness, they cry for men not to be men, and for them to come to their aid at the same time.

Sorry for anything that does not make sense. If you see something that you would like for me to expound on, let me know in the comments. Yes I know I am young, but if there are any counter-arguments based on that fact, I will ignore them, and if I feel like it, delete them. And please, do not respond to this in emotion. Emotional arguments will also be ignored.

The views expressed in this post are those of the author and even if they are the held by others are guaranteed not to be the mainstream. (If it turns out they are and you can prove it, the author will buy you lunch, and not at McDonald’s).

A night in the pit of despair

As only some of you are aware, my family owns a rock quarry. And what that entails is that every now and then we have to blowup a big chunk of rock with explosives.

Well, it has reached the time that we destruct a little more of our side of the mountain. Yes, it’s a mountain that we have blown off half of. It looks really cool.

We do not do this ourselves, but contract out that part of the job to guys that do it all the time. These fellows believed that they could come in the morning, get every thing ready, and blast the evening.

As it turns out, they had underestimated how much time it was going to take them and were not able to complete the job in one day. But, they could not leave all their equipment unattended so I “acquired” the job of staying the night on half of a blown up mountain, and at a time of year when the nights are cold. But it was not all for naught because I was also going to get $100 out of it.

On top of that it is also deer season, and this gave me the chance to be where the deer where when the sun came up.

So I grabbed my rifle, pistol, some leftover pizza, a cigar, my MP3player (I am too cheap to own an ipod) and a sleeping bag. I was set for the end of the world…………..or so I thought. Dhun dhun dhunnnnnnn!

I hopped in my car (a 93 Chevy Corsica) and made my way the half mile to the pit road, I then turned up the road and drove the 1/8 mile back towards my house, only I went from an altitude of 14m to 130m (according to Google earth).

I drove to within view of the “package” and did what the son of an infantry soldier should do……….. I built a fire. Yes, the comfort of the cowardly, heater of meat, the drawer of bugs. When building a fire you also have to collect wood. This I also did. When I had more that enough wood to last the night, I then realized that I had run out of things to do……….. damn, I had only been there a half hour. What am I suppose to do now?!

Answer; call one of my two sisters!

At that time both my sisters were in Pittsburgh (my younger sister visiting with my dad who was visiting my older sister).

Real quick I would like to give you some information that you should file away to use whenever reading my web log in the future. I live about an hour away from my smoking buddies, so when I smoke a cigar or my pipe (a social activity) I am by myself. And since it makes me feel lonely when I do such thing by myself, I call people. Whom do I call? The only people that I am physically able to carry on a conversation with on the phone………. my sisters.

Another interesting fact is that I had already smoked one cigar that day (around noon) so my bi-monthly call to my sisters had already been taken care of.

Needless to say, my older sister was shocked and expecting to hear that someone had passed on to the other side or some such thing. As this was not the case I informed her of the circumstances that surrounded me and the nature of my phone call as well as my location. (Just as a side note, it made me feel really smart to write that last sentence, so if you have a issue with it go ahead and tell me, but I don’t really care that much).

We then proceeded to chat about the weather and such things until motherly stuff called for her full (or as much as she could muster) attention. On that note we ended the traffic of my voice becoming digitized and traveling 2000+ miles to be turned into something intelligible by the average (or in this case below average (yes that was a shameless stab a my older sisters intelligences)) gorilla.

As this had only used up about one of the 12 hours I had to burn, I then proceeded to call my younger sister whom I had also called earlier that day, but was less surprised to hear from me due to the fact the we would call each other multiple times during the day to ask retarded questions. However, I sill told her everything I told my older sister. I then proceeded to hold almost the same conversation with the younger sister as with the older, excepting the part about motherly stuff. It was almost creepy.

After the end of the phone calls it was full dark and I was, once again, out of things to do. No problem, I then proceeded to study the roots of astronomy……………. I sat around a looked at the stars.

As I was sitting there, watching the universe move around me, I saw this light moving really fast. Then it started making this really loud thundering noise. The next thing I know there is another one and they start what appears to be a dogfight! It was at this point that I realized that what I was witnessing was two fighter jets on a training flight.

I was so excited that I called my mom to tell her about it.

Once these two pilots (or more, they may have been two seaters, all I could see was their after burners) decided that they had had enough, the inevitable happened. I got tired, the fire went out, and I got really scared that something was going to eat me. But, knowing myself fairly well (I mean, I have known the guy for 19 years) I had prepared for this eventuality……………. I climbed in the back seat of my car and locked the doors.

Jumping back in time to when I was talking to the blasting guy.

As I was working out the details of what I was suppose to do he told me that they would be back at about 6:30-7:00am. So, based on that information I decided to reopen the gate across the quarry road at 6:00am.

Jumping back forward in time to where I was in the back seat of a small car trying, unsuccessfully to sleep.

Knowing what time I was to rise, I took my cellular telephone and set three alarms, one for 6am, one for 6:10am, and finally one at 6:15am.

After sleeping first sitting up, then on my head, and them some weird combination of the two that I am not sure I will ever be able to duplicate, my 6am alarm goes off. I unzip my sleeping bag, stretch my legs up to the front seat, and wait for the feeling to return to my head and feet.

The next thing I know I am down at the house! I look at my watch. 8:30! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN. I walk out to the living room. THE BLASTER GUY IS IN THE DRIVEWAY! I have the gate keys in my pocket! WHAT THE DUCE? I DON’T WEAR A WATCH!

It was at this time that my 6:10 alarm went off.

I reached out and opened the car door I was leaning against, did this awesome back flip/roll thing out of the car, and slapped my self a few times to make sure that I was really awake this time. After establishing that I was indeed not in fairytale land any more, I decided that it was rather cold out and that it might be a good idea to put my pants on.

Don't buy condoms at the dollar tree

As I am sure none of you are aware, for the last five months I have been running for public office. The seat that I was running for (well, close to a fast walk) was Position 1 on the Board of County Commissioners. For those of you who don’t know what that is, the Board of Commissioners (there are 5) allocates funds and serves as the main governing body of the county.

Anyway, that last paragraph was almost irrelevant to the rest of the story except that I was in town for the election night return party and that was why I was not at home sleeping, eating, or something else of no consequence. But, I was out and about with my younger brother (the same one from an earlier entry about painting).

One of the things we had to do was decorate our table at this party of winners and losers. To the Dollar Tree! Of course, the place were you can buy defective straws. So, I left my brother at the location of the proposed shindig to hold our table, and headed for the one-stop-shop for knock-offs of knock-offs.

After acquiring the necessary garbage to make the horizontal surface to which we had laid claim look like the king of tacky land’s feasting hall, I hurried back to make sure that my kin had not killed, maimed, or freaked out, himself or anyone else.

As it happens he did not, and we were able to create a platform of perfection without disturbance. This task complete, and seeing that we had four hours before the main event started, combined with the fact that they turned out the lights on us, we decided to leave this place and see what the relatively big city had to offer.

That’s right, we went to the mall.

Upon arrival I sent my irrational relative to see what movies were showing whilst I headed for the cigar shop. Hey, if this thing took a turn for the extraordinary, and I made it through the primary, I wanted to be ready. Yes, the party was inside a no smoking building, but you would not believe how fast I would get ten feet away from the door and light that up if I made it through.

After rendezvousing with the stench that never ends, we decided that there were no movies worth watching and went to get dinner.

After a double cheese burger with bacon, we headed back to………………….the Dollar Tree! Yeah baby. Candy, Chinese products, and some weird homeless guy I keep seeing around town.

At this time we made several candy purchases and chose some more decorations for our round table of riches. But, as we were checking out, my simple sibling spotted a basket full of foghorns in a can. He implored me, be begged me, he pleaded on his knees for me to allow he to get some. Being the softhearted soul that I am, I said he could get some, but he could not bring them inside the party. Under these conditions he got three.

Because he had to go to the back of the line, I finished my transaction ahead of the dust cloud that is my brother, and proceeded to the car.

As I was about to unlock my vehicle, a young lady pulls in next to me on the passenger side of my ride. Out she gets from her rig and walks around it to the passenger side of her car. At this time I had found the keyhole and was just turning the key when she talks to me.

“Excuse me.”

I look up, to see if she is truly talking to me. Low and behold she is. What do I do, I am a sheltered home schooler, I never learned how to talk to women. In a desperate attempt to not let my lack of communication skills show I say, “Yeah.”

It must have worked because she did not get back in her car and drive away. Instead she continued to address me.

“My baby is asleep, and I would hate to wake her up, would you mind running inside and getting a few things for me?”

WHAT IS GOING ON? Is this the greatest day of my life or the worst?, I can’t tell at this point! Is this a joke? Is she going to be here when I get back? When I get back will she have taken off the wig and mask and turn out to be an ugly ass guy? I just don’t know. Be cool, be cool.

“Yeah, I can do that. What do you need?”

“Two pregnancy tests”.

WHAT THE HELL? Is this the greatest day of my life or the worst? I can’t tell at this point! Where are the cameras? Did someone I know set this up? What would Jesus do?

“Alright”

Holy crap, I am really doing this. I am at the door. I am inside the store, I am in the aisle. Tampons, pads, ovul............ What the hell is an ovulation prediction test? I think this is what it is. I am about to grab them, when, out of the corner of my eye, I see the real deal.

Relieved that I now had the thing, I proceeded to the checkout lady that this would make the third time that day, and the second inside of five minutes, that she had taken my money.

I am in line. Where are the cameras? I am second in line. Is this gal going to slap me in the face? It’s my turn now. She looks at the stuff, she looks at me. Here it comes.

“Is this a joke?”
At this point if I had been thinking on my feet I should have said “No, you guy’s condoms suck!” but I was not, and only managed to say,

“Lady, I am waiting for the cameras myself, I swear”.

She looked like she did not believe a word I said, but hey, my money is as good as the next. She takes my money. I take my pregnancy tests. I leave the store and, willikers, this chick is still here. There are no cameras. She is still a female, or at least she did not take off her wig and mask.

As I walked up to her she says “I am sorry, I hope I did not embarrass you”.

“Lady, I have two sisters, I have done way worse things”

Firefighting

Upon browsing the internet, I came to the realization that I have not divulged anything about my life to people I don’t know for quite some time. I now plan to change that. I shall regale you with information that will make little, if any, sense.

First off, for the past 5 weekends I have been attending a recruit firefighting academe. (In case you don’t know, I am volunteer firefighter and have been for almost two years). The class I am taking however is not sponsored by my department. If is put on by another one that we sometimes have to work with. They are very happy to have me there in spite of the friendly criticism that is inevitable between to competing originations. There is always something that someone is heckling someone else about, such as “It took you 2 min to put your SCBA (self contained breathing apparatus) on? Man, you just let somebody’s baby die.” Or “how long did it take you to hook up that hydrant? The truck will be empty by the time you are ready for water.” And so on and so forth.
Being the unstoppable force of nature that I am, I was at the top of the class in most things. I have one of the fastest donning times for the SCBA, I have the fastest times donning my turnouts, I leave little room for criticism.


One of the things I have come to realize is that, as a firefighter, I am always in urgent need of a bath room. For example, one of the instructors wanted us to put on our SCBAs and walk around until we are completely out of air, thinking it would take about half an hour. Well, shortly after we started the call of nature took me, and I was torn between seeing how long it takes to use a bottle of air, and the urge to suck down the rest of the air and get it over with. To add to this dilemma, it was a team event. So, if I were to use all my air really fast it would hurt my partners overall time as well as mine.

In the end (64 minutes later) I opted to be a team player and tried not to think about how stupid I would look when I messed in my turnouts.

Also, being from a small bathroom break of a town, on top of the normal fazing of being a firefighter, training with another department, MY department sort of has been stereotyped as redneck/backwoods. As much as I dislike such a thing I have to admit that there is some truth to the assumption. The story goes as such.

The first fire I ever went on was at a sort of run down, half way house, for criminals in between jail terms. I was fast enough getting out of bed and getting dressed that I got on the first truck out (our pumper). One the way, the chief tells me that there should be a fire hydrant near by and he wants me to take it (connect a hose to it so we can get water to the pump on the truck). Being very new and not having very much training (like I said our department is kind of back woods) I was a little worried about my job. Never the less I was going to impress the chief, so I said “not problem, I will take the hydrant”.

As soon as the truck stopped, I jumped out and started looking for the fire hydrant. After ranging through waist high brush and freaking all the neighbors out, I decided that the chief must be wrong and the hydrant did not exist, I gave up the search and told the chief I could not find it. As it turn out, it was only a little fire, and we were able to put it out with the water already onboard the fire truck.
After the fire was out and we were putting all the hose back on our engine, I look over and see a refrigerator on the side of the road right next to the house that was formerly on fire. How odd. Thinking nothing else of it I continued relaying hose. Right before we left the chief and I took one last walk around to make sure we had every thing. As we came around the last corner, we saw that the refrigerator was right in front of a nice yellow fire hydrant, sitting right where we could not see it. So, if you ever come to my town, and need to find a fire hydrant, just look for the refrigerator on the side of the road.