]v[etaphoid Inc. <
m...@mormonia.com> wrote in
]news:uq3e5o$24do0$
1...@dont-email.me:
The Zimmermen just totally rule. You could bring back a recipe for
Caribbean Beefaroni for John. I'm sure he'd appreciate that.
PS: Don't forget to try the conch fritters.
But since you mentioned John, I think a repost from September 19th, 2020
ought to cheer you up.
"I haven't mentioned it here until now, but in 11 days I will be shut
down, probably permanently. My loving brother, for reasons unknown to
me but in my opinion rooted in his inability to cope with anyone he
can't push around, has decided arbitrarily and without prior
conversation that I'm no longer worthy of food, shelter, and clothing,
and I have been evicted. Since my phone is on his account and that is
also being repossessed, I won't even be able to log in to FB or most of
my other websites, since they're all 2FA tied to that phone. I do still
have my old phone, but I gifted that to my niece and I'm not going to
break my word to her just because someone else decided I don't deserve a
home. It's bad enough I'm being forced to break my promise that I'd
always be here for her, since as she says I'm "the only person who makes
[her] feel safe." I've cried a whole bunch over that in the last couple
of weeks, but crying isn't getting me anywhere either. I just hope she
understands when she gets older that it wasn't my choice to make. I
don't know where I'll go or what I'll do; there really are no options.
I'm not asking for anyone's help or money anymore because it's
pointless. I'm not loading up all my crap in a backpack to trek across
the country and "start over" again. I'm tired of starting over, I'm
tired of bootstraps, and most of all I'm tired of every time I just get
to the point of feeling like maybe I can feel safe, some external actor
has to jam a stick in my spokes because I'm a threat to their ego. This
has been a consistent pattern in my life, people wheedling their way
into my good graces thinking it'll pay them off somehow and then
throwing me under a bus when it doesn't pay off fast enough or they
realize I'm not here to be their kept boy. I'm sick of it, and frankly
I no longer have the slightest bit of trust or faith left in human
beings, generally speaking. I did my best. I've fought my fight. I
have nowhere to go, I have no way to get there. My employability is
nil, largely due to the social media profile attached to my name through
my activism over the years. I likely won't survive long, and I'm
honestly not sure how much I care at this point. Perhaps, since I've
long lacked the guts to just end myself of my own free will, this will
give me an out that I can ethically accept. I'll continue to be here
until the 30th, the date on the eviction notice, although since my
internet access has been contingent on my keeping other people's secrets
by way of not discussing any of this in public, it may be well before
then that I'm forced to shut down, and if recent history is any
indication I probably will have no advance warning. After that, I may
be here, and I may not. I think you can all understand that I certainly
have no interest in remaining where I am, given that I'm not welcome
here, and given that of the six other people I live with the only one
with the guts to speak to me directly about any of this, or to express
the slightest bit of concern about my health or well-being, is a nine
year old kid with a crush on her "cool uncle." (She's also a great kid
with a great heart, and I hope her environment doesn't crush it out of
her before she's old enough to really do anything with it. Love her to
death.) So yeah. I didn't mention this when it happened because frankly
I'm sick of people I trust throwing me on a fire and leaving me with no
choice but to beg strangers for the resources I need to stay alive and
keep doing what I do. When your own family craps all over you, it's
time to admit you just don't deserve food, shelter, clothing, security,
or to be able to trust anyone. I literally have had more genuine
respect and consideration from a jazz singer I've never met in a handful
of online exchanges over the years than anyone in my close family or the
majority of my extended family have ever seen fit to extend, and that's
just depressing beyond all expression. Thanks, Janis, for that. You've
been a hero in my life in ways you never suspected, and even though it
was a pretty crap job my participation in your project is absolutely a
highlight of my artistic career. This has been a repeating pattern in my
life, where people pretend to want to "help" when what they really want
is to tie themselves to me and reap rewards when I finally "make it," to
make a big public show of being charitable and philanthropic when what
they really are is chasing social approval and trying to make themselves
out as heroes, usually with the effect of shutting down any other offers
of genuine help only for me to find out later the help they're offering
amounts to them shoving me off on someone else. For those of you who
have been genuine and heartfelt supporters over the years, I hope my
body of work persists in archives and in your hearts and minds as you
move forward without me. I appreciate you, I love you, and I couldn't
have made it this long without you. For those of you who can only offer
help because you think you're going to get something out of it that you
don't have the guts to ask for, kiss my ass and die. It may be that a
fit of concern over social disapproval results in an offer to stay. As
a matter of pragmatics, I will take that offer if it's made, but only
for as long as it takes for me to find a permanent way out of here. You
wouldn't want to live in a house where nobody over the age of 10 has the
slightest respect or consideration for you, and I don't either. That
small group of you who have been quietly supportive over the years, who
have given without expectation of reward, who have followed me not
because you want to be able to brag to people but because you believe in
who I am and what I do, are my real family, and I love every one of you
from the bottom of my heart. Not a day goes by when I don't think about
what I owe you and strive to pay it back in every way I can. You have
helped me make the world a slightly better place while I've had the
chance, and in my book that makes you a hero. The rest of the
fair-weather "friends" and people who only "help" because they think
they're going to get something materially or socially beneficial to them
in return...meh. You got what you wanted, and my "family" now have what
they want: and end to me, permanently, so they don't have to be
reminded of their own failures of character and humanity. But, as things
stand now with 11 days left until the eviction notice expires and not
one of the sixty-ish resumes I've sent out so far getting so much as an
auto-ack, I've got to face the reality that my life is effectively over,
and what time I have left will likely be spent on the streets trying to
find a warm place to sleep where I don't have to worry about my guitar -
which I will not give up for any price, as it is priceless to me - being
stolen from me. I'm hoping for a solution to manifest itself...but I'm
not hopeFUL. It's time to face reality: I have been deemed by this
world to be unworthy of life, and maybe it's time I accepted that this
world is probably right. Love you all. Peace."
The mating call of the Drama Queen is not always a joyous thing.
Sometimes it's justice calling.