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Get Up Outta My Face

Do you know what I’ve discovered?  I’d love to have the power to “zap” the hell out of people when they get up in my face with all their trash talkin’.  I’ve always been a great fan of the Harry Potter books and all fantasies with wizards and wands, and after watching the latest and final installment of “Deathly Hallows-Part 2” (I had read the book ages ago, of course), I truly wished I had a magic wand.   But unlike Harry, I’m not so sure I could have given up possession of the “Elder Wand” (the most powerful wand that ever existed).

As I languidly daydreamed about what it would be like to have my own super-powerful wand which I would name “Bitch-zap,” I thought to myself that I could do some serious damage against all the people who got on my nerves.  Depending on who pissed me off and in what mood I was in that day, you’d hear a “BITCH-ZAP” here and a “BITCH-ZAP” there—here a “ZAP,” there a “ZAP,” everywhere a “BITCH-ZAP”!  Now don’t be alarmed!  With my super-charged ability to cast a variety of spells, I would be very benevolent and would only turn most people into a motley crew of odd looking animals—until they shut the fuck up.  It wouldn’t be about physically harming anyone, as much as it would be about making them “get up outta my face.”

ZAP!

Google Image/Eleanor’s Favorite “Tomato Frog Zap”

ZAP-ZAP!

Google Image/Eleanor’s Favorite “Thumb Nail Frog” Zap

I think I would limit my powers to a couple of categories (one never wants to be greedy in one’s grasp for wand power):  personal grievances and political annoyances.

For the men who did me wrong in the past, I used to think I would obliterate them from the face of the Earth.  But in retrospect, meeting them helped me realize what I didn’t want, and when I met my husband, WW (white and wonderful), my vision had been greatly sharpened, and I knew he was the real deal.  So now I’d just turn those “players” into Blob fish and bury them at the bottom of the deepest sea.

ZAP-ZAP!

Google Image/Eleanor’s “Blob fish Zap” used against players

For the employers who’ve represented “The Man” in my journey (they’ve all been white and male), I’d turn those silly white men into Axolotls and toss them to the bottom of the deepest sea, especially the one who told me that he thought I wasn’t very bright (I had disagreed with him on something).  That “Boss-man” told me I should make a note that when he walks into a room he is normally the smartest person there on any given day; therefore, nothing I had to say could possibly trump what he had already declared.

ZAP-ZAP-ZAP!

Google Image/Eleanor’s “Axolotl Boss Zap”

When my teenagers started hurling their “sassy-mouth,” right-of-passage smack toward me, I wouldn’t have wanted them to come to any harm, but I would have used my Bitch-zap wand in a heartbeat to “zap-a-zip” on those argumentative sassy mouths and would have kept them zipped until their late twenties when they began to see my brilliance as it should have been seen at sixteen, and who now think “I’m all that and a bag of chips” (Girls, that’s all I’m sayin’)!

ZAP!

Google Image/Eleanor’s “Bird of Paradise Zap” Used Specifically for Mouthy Teenagers

 When it came to politics, I would have a field day!  Ann Coulter and her slave mentality of “our blacks are so much better than their blacks” would be sent back to Madagascar with her suitable rodent-like teeth and extended middle finger that she could no longer use against all the good people everywhere who oppose her snarky, mean-spirited commentary.   This Negro would insure that her middle finger could only be used to forage for grubs out of the knots of trees.

BITCH-ZAP!

 Google Image/Eleanor’s “Aye-Aye Zap” (Reserved for Ann Coulter only)

Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, the entire cast of Fox News, and Pat Buchannan with their barely disguised racism against Jews, Blacks, and Latinos (who would like to see us all “banished” from their “great country”) would be zapped into an animal that rarely sees the light of day and has no human contact of any color.

ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!

Google Image/Eleanor’s “Star-nosed Mole Zap” for Fox News and Racist Radio Pundits

And of course, I’ve made it well known that I have no regard for people who claim to speak in God’s name, claiming that God told them to ascend, acquire, or acclaim a position of power when they’re just plain ol’ greedy, ambitious, and trying to promote a book.

EXHIBIT A:  “I prayed and prayed and prayed—I’m a man of faith; I had to do a lot of praying for this one, more praying than I’d ever done before in my life.  When I finally realized that it was God saying that this is what I needed to do, I was like Moses:  ‘You’ve got the wrong man, Lord.  Are you sure?’  Now, you’re not supposed to doubt God, but I’m going, ‘I think maybe you’re looking at somebody else’…but I did not look back.”  Herman Cain’s Mountaintop experience as reported in Huffington Post.

Herman, let’s just say God did tell you to run for president.  He didn’t tell you that you would win—now did he?  Think about it.  Anita Perry heard the same thing about her husband, Sarah Palin heard the same thing about herself, and Bachmann claims the same hotline to God.  You can’t all be right.  I zap-zap Hermie to the bottom of the sea—instantly!

ZAP! ZAP AND DOUBLE-ZAP TO BOTTOM OF SEA!

Google Image/Eleanor’s “Double Octopus Zap”

(Reserved for only the stupidest amongst us)

******

I had a lot of grins and giggles pondering this harmless daydream for several days until the Penn State nightmare began to seep into my psyche.  As I came out of the “clouds” to stare into the glare of reality, I realized I’d give anything to really have an Elder Wand with its “killing curse” because I would do a hell of a lot more than turn people into odd looking creatures.  I’d do God’s job.

As any of my friends will tell you, I don’t know diddly-squat about football programs (I barely can recognize the shape of a football), but I know an inordinate amount about the evils of pedophilia.  I know what it looks like, I know what it feels like, and I know what it sounds like.  I was made painfully aware of its presence at ages 6, 7, and 8 and then again at ages 9, 10, and 11.  Jerry Sandusky, I’ve read the Grand Jury Report from cover to cover, and I heard your shameless interview with Bob Costas.  “Jerry Sandusky,” I KNOW YOU!  I’m one of the millions of children who was left “alone, abandoned to evil, and weeping in the dark,”* because of perverts like you.  If I had a magic wand, I’d point it at your penis and blow it to smithereens because I know your “voice,” and I know you’re guilty!

Jerry Sandusky, if I had the power I would go on a “seek and destroy” mission with my wand on behalf of all your victims and I wouldn’t stop until justice had been done.  I don’t give a shit how many football games your “Joe-Pa” has won or how many great football programs he put into place.  I don’t give a fuck if Penn State ever plays another football game as long as the Earth exists.  I would make Coach Paterno, Asst. Coach McQueary, and all who colluded with them to keep your deviance under wraps, sit face to face with every victim of your touch, while they graphically relayed what you did to them and the subsequent trauma of trying to find their way onto the path of a “normal” life as they attempted to grow up.  When Joe-Pa and all his cronies finished listening to the victims of Penn State, then I’d have them listen to all the victims of the Catholic Church, and finally they’d listen to my childhood terror.

I was six years old, Coaches Paterno and McQueary—six-years-old!

Coach Paterno, Assistant Coach McQueary, Athletic Director Curley, Vice President Schultz, and the janitors who saw Sandusky in action but never told, so as to protect their jobs:  Do you have grandchildren, little nieces and nephews, or little godchildren?  If forcing you to listen to the retelling of all our stories didn’t drive you insane, as to the prospect of this type of abuse happening to your own flesh and blood, then I’d finish you all off with a “zap” into Hell for your egregious sin of omission which allowed Sandusky to get away with the murder of our innocence, our psyches, and our childhood.

******

But I don’t live in a daydream, and I refuse to become a monster in order to demolish one.  I live in reality and I am discovering that I’ve had a magic wand all my life, and I’ve used it frequently:  its name is forgiveness; its power is the reason I am sane.

I am discovering that forgiveness is not for the perpetrator as much as it is for the victim.  I learned that a long time ago. The perpetrator(s) may never repent (mine never did), but forgiveness is still the most powerful wand of the day that allows the victim(s) to become a triumphant survivor(s) and get on with his or her life.   I’m also discovering that to hang onto bitterness and revenge against the Jerry Sanduskys of the world allows the evil to continually rape us.

If I could give a magic wand to the precious “children” of Penn State, I’d give them the wand of forgiveness to be used toward their rapist and all who colluded against them.  However, if I could “zap” the misguided students of Penn State who rioted on campus like petulant children upon hearing about their beloved coach’s firing, I would zap them with the wand of “compassion” and “accountability.”  They are not too young to learn something Joe-Pa failed to exemplify:  all children are our children.

The author on the left at six-years-old

******

Upon finishing this post, I learned of another sexual abuse cover-up that happened at The Citadel in their summer camp program by one of their camp counselors (Louis Neal “Skip” ReVille) four years ago.  The Citadel did not report it to the police.  Mr. Reville graduated and went on to become the principal of Coastal Christian Preparatory School “where he coached sports for several years,” according to the Huffington Post.  ReVille was arrested in October for allegedly molesting at least five children unrelated to the Citadel whose program is now defunct.

Have we had enough?

Speak up!  Keep a child safe.

www.stopitnow.org

No higher cause can trump that obligation (natural justice) — not a church, and certainly not a football program. And not even a lifetime of heroism† can make up for leaving a single child alone, abandoned to evil, weeping in the dark.* From an Op-Ed NY Times piece, “The Devil And Joe Paterno” by Ross Douthat (†Referencing Dario Castrillon Hoyos who “was elevated to the College of Cardinals and placed in charge of the Vatican’s Congregation for the Clergy, where he came to embody the culture of denial that characterized Rome’s initial response to the sex abuse crisis.”)

******

Forgiveness is the answer to the child’s dream of a miracle by which what is broken is made whole again, what is soiled is made clean again. —Dag Hammarskjold

******

It really doesn’t matter if the person who hurt you deserves to be forgiven. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. You have things to do and you want to move on.  Real Live Preacher, RealLivePreacher.com Weblog, July 7, 2003

Text by Eleanor Tomczyk © 2011

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
49 Comments

Posted by on November 17, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Don’t Quote Me—But I Think Jesus Is Pissed!

(This story is a continuation of C-‘48’s Odyssey from blog post: “It’s Sure Gonna Suck for You.”)

Do you know what I’ve discovered?  My sorry-ass was supposed to be “out of here” last week—Oct. 21st (a.k.a. the Rapture).  I haven’t always believed in the Rapture, but I figured why not give it a try.  Earth was becoming a place that was really beginning to suck for a various number of reasons (wars upon wars and rumors of wars, floods, hurricanes, earthquakes, uptick in racism, child abuse, murders, mayhem, and rape—just to name a few nightmares).  I was looking forward to the great escape and going to a place where there would be no more tears, and I could eat great food without gaining weight.  I could stand to trade in all the stress from the chaos and mayhem, and just “hang ten” with Jesus (in heaven I’m going to have a killer surfer bod and be able to surf like a female Kelly Slater).  I’d gotten all my affairs in order, paid all my bills, called in sick to work, kissed WW and the kids good-bye, and prepared myself for a long trip “up.”  But nothing happened!

I’m typing this blog post several days AFTER I was supposed to take flight with my wig and clothes left behind on the seat in front of the steering wheel of my car while my chubby naked ass floated heavenward.  My vehicle would have barreled on down the highway without a driver, terrorizing the “left behind drivers” and the “po-po,” which made me sad at first, but it was just the way the cookie had to crumble if I was going to be part of the “big snatch.”  But. . . I’m still here!   What the fuck?

Google Image/Rapture Billboard

Actually, according to that old dude (Harold Camping) who prophesied the big snatch for Oct. 21st, he promised that I was supposed to be originally raptured on May 21st.

Well, Rev. Camping, you’ve sure got some explaining to do.  It’s like you cried “fire” in a dark theater twice in one year, causing tons of people to panic, but there was no fire.  I’m still here on this planet that I never wanted to come to in the first place (see “It’s Sure Gonna Suck for You”), and your second “snatch day” has come and gone.

So, I’ve had it, Campy baby, and I’m not taking this lying down.  I’d open up a can of whup-ass on you if I could find you (apparently, you’re in hiding), but since I can’t find you, I’m going to do what every little kid on the playground knows to do when they are pissed at one of the other kids:  I’m tellin’ on your ass.

I’m going straight to the person who you claim to be “your boss” and I’m going to tell him how you’re messin’ with people’s minds, causing all sorts of chaos, and making a mockery of your boss’ life and death.  You see, I have discovered the Jesus you talk about is a real stand-up guy, and I’m registering a letter of complaint to him against you.  And while I’m at it, I’m telling on all the other ne’er-do-wells that are saying “God told me this or God told me that” just for their own political or financial gain!  YOUR ASS IS GRASS, MOFO!

COPY OF LETTER TO JESUS

Dear Jesus:

Hope all is well with you and the universe(s) and the hundreds of billions of galaxies you traverse.  I am one of your peeps and I’ve tried to follow you with all my heart for over forty years.  Let me say, first and foremost:  I love you because you first loved me and I remain secure in that love.  However, in the interest of full disclosure, I no longer attend church, but I’m sure you knew that.   I left about a year before the writer Anne Rice left and for the same reasons:  so many of your peeps have lost their ever lovin’, freakin’ minds, and they have become part of the problem and not the solution down here on your third rock from the sun.  They’ve become Fox News worshipers, Glenn Beck idolizers, and Palin-Bachmann sympathizers, as if you, personally, had come down from heaven and knighted these people with a special dispensation from on high.

Which is why I’m writing:  I would like to register a complaint against your Church.  I’m not registering the complaint against all of your Church, just  the crazy parts.  I know that there has always been a remnant of Christians who have been sane and have done the  right thing by your Earth and the people in it, but right now, the crazies are  over-shadowing your “normal” peeps who are just trying to model your example of integrity, love, and grace.

So I’m writing to ask:  what is up with these people and would you please put a stop to them?  You’re such an intelligent God and so outrageously loving and great—with a fabulous sense of humor, I might add—but it’s hard to see that because of what people, who “claim” to be your peeps, are saying and doing in your name.  In case you haven’t been able to catch the news lately, here are a few examples of the freak show:

Google Image/Rev. Harold Camping (False Prophet)

Rev. Camping’s Predictions

“Thus, we must realize that October 21, 2011 will be the final day of this earth’s existence.”

“And now, we have no option. We can’t say ‘maybe’ ‘it’s possible’ ‘it
looks very probable…’ No way! We have to say this is what the Bible teaches!
This is fact! May 21, 2011 is the
day of the Rapture, it is the day that Judgment Day begins…”

“When September 6, 1994,
arrives, no one else can become saved. The end has come.”

Really, Jesus?  I’ve read that in the 90’s, Rev. Camping had approximately eight false Rapture predictions.  And yet I hear today he’s worth 7 million dollars, while the people who took him seriously sold all their worldly goods to help him “spread the word.”  Obviously, he didn’t think he was going very far if he held onto his own millions.  Last time I checked, our money was no good in Heaven.  But here’s the real kick in the balls:  Rev. Camping refused to reimburse the people who sold their homes, crisscrossed the country screaming “the end is near,” and used all their life savings to advertise Rev. Campings false predictions (some foolish guy invested $144,000 of his retirement—all he had).

Google Image/Anita Perry (Wife of Rick Perry)

“God was already speaking to me,” she [Anita Perry] said, “but he [Rick] didn’t want to hear it” (on hearing the distinct voice of God tell her that her husband should run for president and “take back our nation”). . . .  “We’ve been brutalized. Beaten up, chewed up in the press … We’ve been brutalized by our opponents and our own party. So much that is I think they look at him [Rick] because of his faith.”

Jesus, what Anita is saying, just isn’t true.  Ricky is being chewed up in the press because he’s saying idiotic and “anti-you” things but claiming to be called by you to be our next president.  On one hand, he’s presenting himself as a “good, upstanding Christian” (your knight in shining armor), and on the other hand, he’s pathetically defending the existence of a damn rock that bore the name “Niggerhead” at a hunting camp he and his family owned for years in a place that was once considered a “sundown town.”  (Translation:  “Don’t let the sun go down, Nigger, while you are still in our town.”)   Ricky says he painted over that rock in 1983, but at least seven other hunters claim to have seen the sign “unpainted” as late as 2008, and others have said that even with the sign currently painted, discernable letters are still visible.

Google Image/Throckmorton (Rick Perry’s Hunting Camp)

So, Jesus, here is the $64,000 question:  If this man loves you and is called by you to govern people of all races and colors, why didn’t that sign break his heart?  I know plenty of righteous white folks (some of them live in Texas, too) who wouldn’t have slept until that rock was ground into dust, scattered to the four corners of the Earth, and an exorcist brought into the camp to cleanse it of its racist past.

Now your “man of God,” is resurfacing the insulting Birther lie about our president.  When asked why, this “good Christian man” is doing such a mean-spirited thing, he said:  “It’s fun to poke at him (Obama) a little bit and say, ‘Hey, how about it.  Let’s see your grades and your birth certificate’” (keeping alive the lie the Tea Party spread that our President may have lied about his schooling).  Seriously, Jesus?  Does Rick Perry really want to “go there” having graduated as a cheerleader from Texas A&M with mediocre to failing grades in his core subjects?  Does he really want to bear the shame of the world comparing his grades against Barack Obama’s who was the president of the Harvard Law Review?   Rick Perry held a prayer meeting in your name to kick off his presidential campaign, so why is he “poking” fun at his president and mine?  Is Rick jealous or just flat out mean?  Somehow the “love your brother as yourself” just isn’t cutting it with him, and it’s making that prayer meeting of his seem like a total sham.

Google Image/AFP||Getty Image

Westboro Baptist Church “Screaming hatred in the name of Jesus”

Now about that sick Westboro Baptist Church:  This picture speaks a thousand words.  Are these people really going to Heaven?  I seriously might have to reconsider your offer about heaven if I have the slightest potential of living with these racist, homophobic, misanthropic people for an eternity.  Please, say it isn’t so!

You see what I’m sayin’, Jesus; it’s all so perverse!   To Hell with this creepy Rapture stuff!  I know it’s a lie made up by some dude named John Darby in the 1800’s, but you’d be stunned to know how many people actually believe in it and “sell it” like their lives depended on it while their actions are the antithesis of you and what you stand for.

  •  “You’ll be riding along in an automobile. You’ll be the driver perhaps. You’re a Christian. There’ll be several people in the automobile with you, maybe someone who is not a Christian. When the trumpet sounds you and the other born-again believers in that automobile will be instantly caught away — you will disappear, leaving behind only your clothes and physical things that cannot inherit eternal life. That unsaved person or persons in the automobile will suddenly be startled to find the car suddenly somewhere crashes…. Other cars on the highway driven by believers will suddenly be out of control and stark pandemonium will occur on … every highway in the world where Christians are caught away from the driver’s wheel.” Jerry Falwell’s pamphlet:  Nuclear War and the Second Coming of Christ

Remember Jerry Falwell’s multitudinous hurtful and racist statements committed in your name when he was alive?  So, if Jerry was correct about the Rapture, that would make you the God of Chaos!  Sheesh!  (Important reminder, Lord Jesus:  Jerry Falwell also died very rich and politically powerful while preaching we all needed to prepare to be “snatched up” and leave everything behind.)

No disrespect, my Lord, but why do you let these jokers get away with this?  Why don’t you say something or, better yet, do something?

Unless…unless you have already raptured everyone a long time ago, and I’ve been left behind with the likes of Sarah Palin, Michelle Bachmann, Newt Gingrich, Glenn Beck, Herman Cain, Rush Limbaugh, Rick Perry, and the Westboro Baptist Church, just to name a few of the wingnuts!  Oh, my God, what if Fox News is the official news channel for Hell?  I never thought of that!  Oy vez mir. 

Please, please return soon.

Trying to be one of your servants, C-‘48

Google Image of Jesus (not really—just his human skin-casing)

COPY OF RESPONSE FROM JESUS

Dear Cleve-’48:

I am Jesus’ executive assistant and I wanted to get back to you as soon as possible with a letter that he specifically dictated to you.  He sends his apologies that he couldn’t personally speak to you himself (he does far less of that than people claim), but he is dealing with all the mayhem throughout the world that is being caused by the choices of humans who refuse to do right by each other and the Earth. 

Jesus asked me to let you know that he feels your pain.  He also wants to assure you that he never said anything crazy people have maintained he said throughout the centuries—from the murderous crusaders to Rick Perry’s wife saying God told her, “Rick should run for president and take our country back.”  Jesus’ exact response to all of this, to put it in a nutshell, is:  “They are ‘mashugana’”!

As to the Westboro Baptist Church, Jesus has nothing to say about them because he doesn’t know them—you might try Satan’s website for those who have signed up for early registration to Hell.

My boss said to remind you that what he did say to those people, who claim to be acting on his behalf, is a matter of public record:

  •  “Be wary of false preachers who smile a lot, dripping with practiced sincerity. Chances are they are out to rip you off some way or other. Don’t be impressed with charisma; look for character. Who preachers are is the main thing, not what they say. A genuine leader will never exploit your emotions or your pocketbook. . . .Knowing the correct password — saying ‘Master, Master,’ for instance — isn’t going to get you anywhere with me. . . I can see it now—at the Final Judgment thousands strutting up to me and saying, ‘Master, we preached the Message, we bashed the demons, our God-sponsored projects had everyone talking.’ And do you know what I am going to say? ‘You missed the boat.  All you did was use me to make yourselves important. You don’t impress me one bit. You’re out of here.’” (Matt. 7:21-23 The Message Bible—bold and underline emphasis = mine)

Jesus also asked me to tell you that as to this blatant worship of capitalism that is running amok through so many Christians who think he’s an American and a Republican, and who are so against social justice, he’s just “not down” with that.  It is a “cancer” enhanced by the discipleship to people like Glenn Beck (not a spokesman of his, by the way) to Ayn Rand’s philosophy of objectivism which she laid out so poorly in Atlas Shrugged. My boss is still puzzled that Christians can read the ninety pages of John Galt’s speech in Atlas Shrugged which is a manifesto to greed, hubris, self-centeredness, disdain and contempt for the poor, and cold-heartedness to the disenfranchised, and his peeps don’t walk away feeling sick to their stomach when they measure it against his Sermon on the Mount.  Finally, what he actually said to all of them, and they are purposely ignoring, is still a matter of public record:

  •  “Then he (Jesus) will turn to the ‘goats’ (heartless, self-centered, mean-spirited, self-righteous Christians) the ones on his left, and say, ‘Get out, worthless goats!  You’re good for nothing but the fires of hell. And why? Because—
    • I was hungry and you gave me no meal,
    • I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
    • I was homeless and you gave me no bed,
    • I was shivering and you gave me no clothes,
    • Sick and in prison, and you never visited.’

“Then those ‘goats’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or homeless or shivering or sick or in prison and didn’t help?’ He will answer them, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.’” Matt: 25:41-43 (The Message Bible – parentheses, bold, and underlining emphasis = mine)

One last point, C-‘48:  Jesus asked me to tell you not to believe everything you hear.  I believe he said:  “If it walks like a fool, and talks like a fool, then it is a fool and has nothing to do with me or what I am about.”

Hope this helps and brings you peace.  Keep on believin’, keep on representin’, and keep on lovin’ regardless of the haters!

All the Best.

Jesus’ EA, Heavenly Dimension, Inc.

I am a Christian, BUT not one of those Christians!

“I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Mahatma Gandhi

******

All text and photos by Eleanor and John Tomczyk copyrighted © 2011 except where otherwise noted

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit
is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
59 Comments

Posted by on October 28, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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I Think I Heard You Say. . . .

Do you know what I’ve discovered?  Given the thousands of languages spoken all over the world (and the
ones yet undiscovered) it’s a wonder we are not involved in perpetual world wars.
  Communication between humans, even when we speak the same language, is only as good as my husband’s car’s antiquated GPS system.  If there are no tall buildings, if the atmosphere is just right, if there isn’t thick cloud coverage, and if the signal isn’t receiving interference from a gazillion other GPS systems in our over-crowded city, then and only then will WW and I make it out of the bowels of the worst part of the inner city where we’ve inadvertently
gotten lost.  But if all of those factors are interfering with the GPS’s communication to our car, then after a few instructions to proceed “200 feet and make a sharp ‘U’ turn,” our direction finder, whom we call Penelope, will give up the ghost, shut down completely, and go totally silent.  Although, when we listened carefully the last time, we could have sworn we heard her mumbling:  “You are on your own biotchs, ‘cause I’m not feelin’ this”!

According to Wikipedia, “Communication requires a sender, a message, and an intended recipient. . . .  The
communication process is complete once the receiver has understood the message of the sender.” 

. . .and therein lies the rub!

Gustave Doré’s interpretation of the biblical confusion of tongues/ Wikipedia

There are so many combinations of humanoids in which communication can be turned upside down or completely distorted because of what Wikipedia cites as “barriers to communication”:  attitudinal barriers, ambiguity of words/phrases, message overload, physical barriers, individual linguistic ability, physiological barriers, and presentation of information to name a few.  I’ve experienced quite of few of these barriers to communication, and all three examples listed below are true stories.

HUSBAND vs. WIFE: (Communication Barrier = “Presentation of Information” combined with “Message Overload”)

The Blogger Wife said:  “When you go to the grocery store, would you get me ten containers of hot red pepper flakes because our neighbor says that if we spread it throughout our property the dogs won’t shit on the lawn anymore.  Speaking of our neighbor, did you know her third child had another miscarriage and the fifth child is getting yet another divorce?  Isn’t that so sad?  And I didn’t even tell you how Sylvia came outside to get the mail in one of her scantily-clad outfits as if this were the ghetto, and don’t you know she didn’t even begin to try and speak to me and Sondra.  So I said to Sondra, ‘Oh, no she deh-ent. . . .’”

  • THE BLOGGER’S HUSBAND HEARD:  “When you go to the grocery store, buy me 60 red peppers, blah, blah, blah, blah.” As the husband placed the 60 fresh red peppers into the grocery cart, he wondered what in hell kind of meal his wife was going to make with 60 fresh red peppers.  He went back and put two bottles of Maalox in the cart.

Google Image

MOTHER vs. TEENAGE GIRL:  (Communication barrier =Attitudinal” and “Presentation of Information”)

My Fifteen-year-old said:  “How do you like this outfit?”

  • THIS MOTHER HEARD:  “Do you think I look like your precious little girl in this – the kind that will fly under the radar of horny sixteen-year-old boys?”

This Mother answered:  “Oh, Honey, you look ADORABLE!”

  • MY FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD HEARD:  “Oh Sweetie, you look just like a ten-year-old CHILD.”

My Fifteen-year-old answered:  “That’s not what you were supposed to say!  You were supposed to say that I look ‘HOT’!Upon iterating that jarring communication, said teenager burst into tears and ran back to her room, slamming the door with all her might.

This Mother started screaming:  “UM-HUM, AS IF THE WORD ‘HOT’ AND MY DAUGHTER’S NAME WILL EVER COME OUT OF MY MOUTH IN THE SAME SENTENCE.”

This Mother started talking to no one in particular:  “Shit, that child must have lost her ever-lovin’ mind.
What kind of fool does she take me for — Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you that?”

After the passing of some time, the teenager returns dressed in a full-on “Daisy Duke’s” outfit, replete with half-moon buns peeking out of the shorts and the already prematurely established 34D’s popping out of a tube top that The Mother had no idea the child possessed.

My Fifteen-year-old said:  “I’m going over to Betsy’s house to study.  I’ll be back before curfew.”

  • THIS MOTHER HEARD“I’m going out tonight to have sex with every guy that I meet.  Don’t wait up.”

Google Image/Jessica Simpson

The Father said:  “When the hell did all that happen?” pointing toward the Jessica Simpson/Jenny McCarthy imitation that had morphed into his daughter, as he put down his newspaper for the first time since the great wardrobe wars had begun 30 minutes ago between The Mother and The Teenager.

  • THIS MOTHER HEARD:  “I need you to get ahold of this, because what I’m looking at right now
    scares the shit out of me!”

This Mother screamed:  “GET YOUR LITTLE VANILLA BEHIND BACK INTO THAT BEDROOM, AND YOU BETTER NOT COME BACK OUT UNTIL EVERY LUMP AND HUMP HAS BEEN COMPLETELY COVERED UP — DO YOU HEAR ME, YOUNG LADY?”

This Mother started talking to no one in particular:  “As if I’d let her out of this house wearing that skanky outfit.  That’s my baby and she’s gonna’ stay that way!”

At which point, the teenager went stomping down the hall to her room, The Father went back to reading his newspaper, and The Mother made a mental note to ask one of her Muslim friends if they had an extra burqa that her daughter could wear for the next ten years.

Google Image

FRIEND vs. FRIEND:  (Communication barrier = “Ambiguity of words/phrases”)

Two little girls, who were “play cousins” around the age of eight, were playing house while their parents were finishing up dessert and coffee one Thanksgiving Day many years ago.  Little-girl B’s grandfather had
just died within the last month and little-girl A (my daughter) was trying to console her.

Little-girl “A” said:  “So, I hear your granddad bought the farm.”

  • LITTLE-GIRL “B” HEARD:  “I hear your granddad moved to a farm.”

Little-girl “B” answered:   “Huh, no he doesn’t live on a farm.”

Little-girl “A” said:  “No, I heard he bit the dust.”

  • LITTLE-GIRL “B” HEARD:  “I hear your granddad is eating dust.”

Little-girl “B” answered:  “Noooo, my granddad never ate dirt.”

Little-girl “A” said:  “Well, I heard he kicked the bucket.”

  • LITTLE-GIRL “B” HEARD:  “Your granddad kicks things.”

Little-girl “B” answered:  “No, my granddad didn’t kick anything.”

Little-girl “A” said:  “Sheesh Louise!  I HEARD YOUR GRANDDAD DIED LAST MONTH!”

Little-girl “B” answered:  “What? Mom!

POLITICAL CANDIDATES vs. THE AMERICAN PEOPLE:  (Communication barrier = “Individual linguistic ability”):

Herman Cain said:  “African-Americans have been brainwashed into not being open minded, not even considering a conservative point of view. . . . So it’s just brainwashing (not voting for me) and people not being open minded, pure and simple.”

  • THIS BLACK PERSON HEARD:  “I’m an arrogant son-of-a-bitch who is assuming I’m qualified to speak for all African-Americans, and I think I am the only smart, analytical African-American who is able to figure out the truth about what is going on in the political arena today.  African-Americans are all idiots, except for me.”

This Black Person answered:  “As one who voted Reagan-80, Bush-father, Bush-son, Obama-08, I think I considered the conservative POV for quite a while before I decided not to do it again.  I also know other African-Americans who did the same.  So, who are you referring to, Hermie?”

Herman Cain said:  “The only tactic liberals have is to try to intimidate people into thinking that the Tea Party is racist. The Tea Party is not a racist movement, period!  If it were, why would the straw polls keep showing that the black guy is winning? That’s a rhetorical question.  Let me state it: The black guy keeps winning.”

  • THIS BLACK PERSON HEARD:  “I have chosen to ignore the fact that the Tea Party is using me because I am too clueless and arrogant to recognize that they have placed my frog’s ass in water that seemed to be tepid and inviting at first (on purpose), but there is a segment of the group (not all of them) that will heat the water to the point of boiling and poach my ass as soon as they no  longer need me to try and seduce the illusive black vote.”

This Black Person answered:  “You, my man are the flavor of the month, and you are as cynical a choice for the Tea Party as John McCain’s selection of Sarah Palin.  I shall never forgive the Tea Party or John McCain for the travesty they have unleashed upon us.  Hear this, Herman Cain:  you truly are a disgrace to the race.”

Herman Cain said:  “Don’t try to pass a 2,700-page bill.  You and I didn’t have time to read it. We’re too busy trying to live — send our kids to school. That’s why I am only going to allow small bills — three pages. You’ll have time to read that one over the dinner table.”

  • THIS BLACK PERSON HEARD:  “I know the devil is in the details but don’t your worry your pretty little heads about it.  I’ll pass simple bills for simple people.”

This Black Person answered:  “Shit, ‘Uncle Hermie’, I guess that means you and I would still be imprisoned by Jim Crow laws (poor, uneducated, unable to vote, and unelectable to public office), would have no Social Security, and would live in constant fear of having our asses bombed to smithereens since the Civil Rights Act (8 pages), the Social Security Act (64 pages), and the Patriot Act (600+) were all more than three pages long.  Damn, couldn’t the Tea Party have found a better Black man to ‘represent’?

Herman Cain said:  “Let me introduce you to my 9-9-9 Tax Plan.”

  • THIS BLACK PERSON HEARD:  I got this tax idea from copying the price of one of my pizzas (I figure if it works for my pizzas, it could work for America), and I’ve made it my main campaign theme because it’s catchy and could be passed into law on just one page!  Of course, I won’t tell anybody that I suspect when you do the math my plan will only raise half the revenue our country needs while putting most of the burden on the poor.  The taxes on the middle class would increase by thousands of dollars.  But, hey, my rich friends will sure think I’m swell!”

This Black Person answered:  “Oh God, me and my peeps are so screwed!”

******

Wikipedia describes “individual linguistic ability” as a communication barrier because:  “The use of . . . inappropriate words in communication can prevent people from understanding the message.  Poorly explained or misunderstood messages can also result in confusion.  We can all think of situations where we have listened to something explained which we just could not grasp.”

I am discovering that communication is a very, very hard thing between humans, but absolutely necessary to get it right in order to live in harmony with one another.   Lack of proper communication can crush feelings, destroy careers, break up marriages, undermine friendships, and start wars.  I have had several situations in my life when I just knew I was on the same page with another person or persons and come to find out, I had started a war and never knew it.  But so much of what infuses proper communication depends on the attitude of the heart.  Do I love or deeply care for the human whom I’m communicating with or do I just want to win?  I’m learning to use that corporate trick in my personal life that has one listen to another person’s business proposal and then ask the question:  “I think I heard you say. . .?”  If they answer the way you heard it, then you’re good to go.  If their answer is different from what you heard, then you better make a sharp U turn at the next available exit and reposition your heart’s GPS.

“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” George Bernard Shaw

 “Men and women belong to different species and communications between them is still in its infancy.”  Bill
Cosby

All text and photos by Eleanor and John Tomczyk © 2011 except where otherwise noted

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit
is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on October 14, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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