I'm Tired of White Gay Men Complaining About How Difficult Life is for Them - Please Direct Them to the Definition of the Word 'PRIVLIDGE'?

I have a Moriarty. A nemesis... and I expect that would have been a lot more scary for Sherlock Holmes, seeing as his nemesis tried on occasion to kill him, and didn't just send him annoying and snarky emails.

Let us call him Mr M. For... well, for many reasons.

It started with the email sent to all of the SRC members (because this person apparently doesn't now how to tell the difference between 'reply' and 'reply all' about the one Queer Collective meeting they attended because no one talked about the things that they thought that should have been brought up, not that they submitted anything for the Agenda, nor did they actually raise any points during the meeting.

Then followed the email discussion about that.

Then they emailed me consistantly over a period of time asking me to do things for a project that THEY are meant to be running, having declared themselves the 'co-ordinator, Secretary and Treasurer' of the Project's 'Collective'.

Followed by a long conversation about the meaning of 'Collectivism' as opposed to 'Dictatorship' and the poor idea that it is not having an independent Treasurer appointed to create a means of accountability (seeing as this is where the word 'accountant' comes from) if money goes missing.

Then another long email conversation about that.

Then the emails that called me reactionary instead of rational, and implied that I was this way because I was female, and that accused myself and C of making them feel 'unsafe' in the Queer Space and 'worthless'. Well, Mr M. you can try to push all of the buttons that you want by using those words, but it isn't going to work because I am 'rational' and not 'reactionary'. For if indeed I were 'reactionary', you would realise this from the fact that you would have under 4 minutes to live due the the fact that I had sliced open one of your arteries without you noticing. For that is how my 'reactionary' side plays... which is why I am a very 'rational' person.

There was then a diatribe of insulting emails sent to my personal email address, to which I responded by explaining that he is only to email me on a professional basis via the CSU.SRC or CSU.MSG addresses, dependent on what the business was referring to.

Mr M's response? To send a diatribe of insults to the CSU.MSG email account.

No, no, no Sir. I did not ask you to use that account to insult me because it was more convenient for me to receive them there. I said that there would be no more insults and only professional emails sent to the Guild and Council accounts. So my response was to tell Mr M. that there would be no more insults, and anything like an insult would be taken as harassment and dealt with as such.

So, no more harrassing emails addressed to me.

BUT, (because these situations always have a big arse in them) we are now up to the 'I will email the Queer Collective (that I swore I would have nothing to do with) and tell them that they are disgusting and messy because I don't KNOW that it is 'her' [me, your whinning authoress] who reads them. And I will comb through the student forums and answer each of the posts she made last year with some snide comment and thinly veiled threat about the days of your positions on the Council and Guild being numbered.

Oh boy, do I have some news for you, Mr M.

As I said - the idea of a nemesis seemed so much more exciting when I was growing up reading Sherlock Holmes books.

More Love from the SOH

End Music (to a Film) by Radiohead has always been an emotional and inspiring song for me.  It is the reason I have my 'Breathe' tattoo on the inside of my left wrist.  Seeing Amanda finally play it live, and to be able t sit only meters away from her while she excuded such raw energy and passion was astounding.  I wish that A had been there to witness the event so he can understand my obsession with her music.

This taping is the reason that we were so late being allowed into the venue.

Amanda Palmer:  Exit Music (for a Film) by Radiohead from shoottheplayer.com on Vimeo.

And then there is Creep - another Radiohead song that has become a staple.  Nobody does it like AFP - dressed in rufflies with a ukele.

Let Me Try This Again…

I enjoy writing blogs.  I’ve kept a number of them over the years, and I’m sure that if you googled any of the online aliases I’ve held over time that you will find the list I’ve left scattered behind me, like some sort of depraved one-sided litany.  The bastard children of illness and insight, of affliction and awareness.  My attempts at breathing a semblance of meaning into my pain and trying to help it gain a strength for a few sessions of psychological self-flagellation later on.

 

So, I decided to start another blog and she was supposed to be a commentary on things that were happening in society around me… but she told me to fuck off.  So then I tried to make her into a blog about our attempts to find a sperm donor and conceive a child this year, but then she said “You know?..  No.”

 

But now I’m trying to build her into something new.  I’m trying to feed this one on truth and not self-pity and drama.

 

Perhaps I’ll conceive something this year after all.

 

"So this little song is probably...she's one of my best friends of all the songs. And um, she just didn't want to be on any of the records. She was supposed to be on Pele, and then she told me to fuck off. And then she was supposed to be on Choirgirl, sorta kinda, but then she said, 'you know...no.' And then she decided she liked being played live, so I play her a lot."  ~Tori Amos Cooling