The 35th Precinct

As Roomie and I were walking toward our favorite local grub haunt this afternoon, a woman leaving the restaurant said to me, "The things people won't do to get a free ride," and laughed.

Now, it was clear to me that there was no malice behind the comment, and so I just smiled and said, "Oh, yes, ma'am," because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to be an asshole because it was clear she was clumsily trying to interact with that oh-so-exotic cripple, but inside, I was howling. What makes people think it's a good idea to say things like that to anyone, let alone a complete stranger? That's like me looking at an old, wheezing, leather-headed emphysema sufferer and saying, "Looks like you really went all-out to earn that pure air and senior discount, LOL!" It's inappropriate and rude and rage-inducing.

Look, able folks, I know that it can be scary to interact with a disabled person, but a good rule of thumb is to treat them as you'd treat any able person you meet on the street. Say hello if that's your wont, walk on by if it isn't. Treat them like just another person because that's who they are. Odds are you're not as witty as you think you are, and attempting to connect with disabled folks through their disability usually ends in painful embarrassment for everyone.

After she left, I thought about that anonymous German poster who waded in here a few months back to tell me that I should consider rude strangers' feelings and circumstances when they said or did something offensive, selfish, or ignorant that made my day harder. I wondered how they would have responded if that woman had heard them speaking German and chirped, "Oh, I bet you drink a lot of beer," or "Oh, you don't look like a kraut." I wondered if they would have smiled or joked and been gracious about it, or if they would have circled their thumb and forefinger and told the gormless twit to get roundly fucked by a pinecone. I wondered how they would have reacted if that had been the third time or the tenth time or the three hundredth time. How long it would have taken before that forced smile turned into a moue of distaste and then a snarl of frustration. Not long, I suspect.

Remarks like that, even when made without malice, wear on you. They're like grains of sand dropped onto the same patch of skin; one is negligible and easily ignored, but then there's ten, and one hundred and one thousand, and soon, you're raw and irritated and desperate to soothe the constant, smarting burn. Even the most sanguine people reach a tipping point where one more grain is one too many, and then they snap. And when they do, they're met with wet-eyed incredulity and accusations of ingratitude and assholery because they didn't take the joke in the spirit in which it was intended.

And then you feel like a douche because the last thing you wanted to do when you left the house was hurt someone, and because you have the sinking feeling that in responding as anyone would to the repeated prodding of a wound, you have just perpetuated the bitter cripple stereotype. Whee and fuck and nobody wins. But if you grin and bear it like a good little gimp, you can't seem to get the taste of bootblack off your tongue. Whee and fuck and nobody wins


A first pimp for A Little Night Magic. I might pimp it again once LJ stabilizes completely to make sure folks who are interested don't miss it, but other than that, it's back to the mythpool.


And because I wanted some Rammstein loveliness today:

( Hello, Hot Stuff )

I'm not ready to reconnect with the world beyond the most superficial level just yet, so have a photo of Christoph:



The booty hosen are brilliant, and that smile is effervescent, but why does he look so deflated and lumpy around the midsection, like deflated dough or the remnants of liposuction? It's as if his skin is a size too large.

Richard's face is just...sublime. He just looks so perplexed.


( And Have Some Christoph, Too )


Goddamn, but Christoph is hot.

I hadn't intended to leave the house today, but I ended up shuffling off to the utility company to pay the Internet/phone/cable bill. It wasn't due until next week, but I had the money on hand and decided to get it out of the way rather than paying it and the gargantuan power bill at the same time. The power bill was stupefying, but not as dreadful as I had feared. Thanks to my l33t tightass "We must hoard money for Rammstein" skills, the hit posed to our budget will be minimal and I can still set funds aside for Rammstein round two.

I'm still banging away on my account of Rammstein/NYC, and the Atlanta portion has ballooned to 20,000 words. The good news is that I'm almost to the part where I meet caecus_parvulus and enjoy a bit of schadenfreude delivered by an Amtrak porter with a delicious sense of justice. I love you, Amtrak porter with the Epic Jabbing Finger of Disdain.

We'll resume my customary pervage over Richard tomorrow, but I want to post a second picture of Rammstein's secret superhero:

( The Sexiest Aircraft Signalman EVER )

Sometimes, I wonder if anyone in the audience even notices his exhortations to cheer and sing along. Most eyes seem to be fixed on Till, Flake, or Richard. I noticed him doing his impression of an aircraft carrier flagman during "Links 234" at MSG and was greatly amused even as my ears were seeking out Richard's guttural growls. Still, I love his enthusiasm, and his stomach is absolutely scrumptious.

Totally Random Thought: How did Christoph's sister look at her brother and think, "You know, I bet he would look fantastic in fishnets and booty hosen."?

Dear LJ,

The new homepage is hideous, and I don't appreciate having the ohnotheydidnt glurge smeared all over my LJ experience, while the important minutiae of my online life, like comments, are crammed into a small corner like malformed afterthoughts of faint consequence. If I cared about ONTD, I would join it. Rubbing my face into a steaming pile of shit and telling me it tastes good won't inspire me to eat it.

The spoilers wafting out of SPNfen continue to reek.

The trailer for Deathly Hallows continues to be magnificent, though I wouldn't go so far as to call it the "event of a generation".

I'm usually a Rich Bitch, but I found this picture of Christoph on the Rosenrot forums today:




I see that collar. Ungh. Mama likes.