The dark side of personal blogging

Remember being in school (elementary and/or high) and being called fat, ugly or stupid?

How did it make you feel? 

My guess is pretty bad. 

Maybe even really bad.

I bet you still remember that one kid bully who made your life miserable. 

I remember the guy who called me a "sandwich" because it rhymed with my last name. It was far from being the worst thing anyone had (or has) ever said to me but I remember it to this day. 

Just like I remember the boy who punched me in the stomach...after spying on me in the girls' washroom.

Now that I'm an adult, I figured I was done with bullies.

I figured wrong.

Welcome to the world of cyber bullies.

Over the past couple of weeks, an anonymous person has been posting comments intended to provoke some sort of emotional response from me. Apparently I'm not the only one.

Sorry to disappoint. 

I don't have one.

I will say that it's too bad you don't have the courage to share your identity, thereby avoiding responsibility and accountability for what you say. If you did, we could interact on a level playing field... though I really don't know how, or why, I would interact with someone who thinks I'm an "immature, self-indulgent, narcissist who writes badly."

In an attempt to inform myself on the growing trend of cyber bullying, and understand why a stranger (or not!) would want to hurt someone they don't even know, I came across an interesting article in Scientific American.

In it, the author describes bullying as "a type of aggression in which (1) the behaviour is intended to harm or disturb, (2) the behaviour occurs repeatedly over time, and (3) there is an imbalance of power, with a more powerful person person or group attacking a less powerful one by virtue of his/her ability to anonymously attack."

I've been writing this blog since 2012 and thankfully, this is my first experience with trolling. The community on this blog has, until most recently, been troll-free as well as supportive, kind and compassionate. 

Thanks everyone!

Sometimes my arms bend back

The title of this post may have led you to believe that it's about yoga but it isn't. It's about Twin Peaks. 

I was 15 years old when Twin Peaks first aired in 1990. Needless to say, I didn't really get it.

Actually, I really didn't get it. Like, at all.

It took several years of maturation, numerous viewings of the show (and movie), a reading of The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer and the analyzing of several articles/essays on David Lynch (who now runs a transcendental meditation-based foundation for at-risk populations) to even begin to understand, and appreciate, the genius that was Twin Peaks and is David Lynch.  

For those of you who haven't had the time, or pleasure, to "peek" into Lynch's disturbed, and disturbing, vision of a fictional Washington town here is a summary (that will not do it justice): "Twin Peaks follows the investigation headed by FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper into the murder of homecoming queen Laura Palmer. It explores the gulf between the veneer of small-town respectability and the seedier layers of life lurking beneath it."

  laura's prom picture

Or so says Wikipedia

There are many things about the show that made it special. The locale. The characters. The actors who portrayed them. The music. The symbolism. The creamed corn (and garmonbozia).   

this one's for you, elana

I really got into Twin Peaks when I was 23 and living in Japan. The video store at the corner of my street stocked an eclectic mix of American television series, including TP. I started with the pilot and immediately got hooked. I would watch a few episodes every night. When I went to bed, I'd be totally freaked out.

I also developed an aversion to fans.

And the name Bob.

A few years ago, I bought a big roll of clear, heavy plastic at Halloween. My plan was to go as Laura, "dead and wrapped in plastic." I can't remember why I didn't do it that year, but every year since I ask myself if I really want to spend the night wrapped in plastic.

Every year, the answer is invariably no.

Will 2014 be different?

  dead and wrapped in plastic

 

And justice for all

Every so often, I come across a story that breaks my heart. When that happens, I try to do something, anything, to help.

It started with David Milgaard who spent 23 years in jail for a rape, and murder, that he did not commit. 

I was in my early teens at the time. I remember writing a few letters to the editor, doing a school project about wrongful convictions and making a t-shirt that read "And justice for all - free David Milgaard."

My actions probably didn't amount to much anything but I naively thought that if just ONE person read up on David Milgaard because of my shirt then one more person would be on his side, fighting for justice (for all).

 The Tragically Hip's ode to Milgaard

Since then, a number of (similar but different) stories have caught my attention.

Like this one.

And this one. 

And this one.

To serve and protect? 

"Now you see my fists? "They are getting ready to f--k you up."

I don't think so.

A young Thomas

 Thomas as he appeared in 2009

 Thomas after he was beaten by police

Kelly Thomas was a homeless man suffering with mental health and drug addiction issues.  He was beaten to death by police officers due to "a culture in law enforcement where those with drug addictions or mental illness are considered not worthy of compassion."

Thomas was in the wrong place at the wrong time. On the night in question - July 5, 2011 -  police had been called about someone vandalizing cars near the Fullerton Transportation Centre in Fullerton, California. 

Thomas had a history with the police. These encounters ranged from minor infractions to an assault case 16 years prior.

While investigating, two police officers, Manuel Ramos and Jay Cicinelli, came across Thomas. He was shirtless and disheveled. They asked to search him and he refused.  They called for backup.

"Now you see my fists?" Ramos asked Thomas while slipping on a pair of latex gloves. "Yeah, what about them?" Thomas responded. "They are getting ready to f--k you up," said Ramos.  

Then they tasered him five times while beating him to death with their fists and billy clubs. 

The whole video is available online but I haven't watched it. I just read part of the transcript and collapsed while sobbing hysterically.

Both officers pleaded not guilty. 

Both were also acquitted. 

Apparently, beating a helpless, homeless man to death for no reason other than your own uncontrolled rage is not a punishable crime.

I don't know what sharing Thomas's story can, or will, do but I think that it is a story that is worth sharing and more importantly, acting upon. 

A very proactive Facebook page has been set-up. Demonstrations are being held. Petitions are being circulated. 

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle."
Plato