Cafe 42 Blog

Murdering CEOs is Trending

by jcafesin, posted in Uncategorized

Will shooting them all stop these corps stealing from the 99%?

I’m writing a dystopian novel called The Power Trip about 4 Stanford undergrads that build a MMORPS game where PLAYERS manipulate other players — MARKS — to do what they ‘suggest.’

In one scene, the fictional CEO of fictional HealthNet is shot to death on a street in San Francisco by a social activist who lost his parents in the Nipah outbreak of ’36 due to poor care at Stanford Hospital. I wrote this scene a decade ago, enraged by our healthcare system in the U.S.A., and was reviewing it as it played out in real life last Wednesday on a street in New York City with the murder of the CEO of UnitedHealthcare.

And I’d like to tell you that I feel bad for his family that he was gunned down on a public street in broad daylight, but…

I really am conflicted on this one. Brian Thompson, the real life (though now dead) UnitedHealthcare CEO was not a benefit to society. He headed up an insurance company that kills people every day by limiting doctor care, drug pushing for big pharma, and denying claims with no foundation other than pure greed, destroying lives daily. He was a father, which makes him particularly dangerous because more like him in this country, on this planet will not help humanity thrive, but hurts our survival.

American’s have a SHORTER LIFE SPAN than China, Greece, United Arab Emirates, and 51 other nations on this planet. We are 55th in life expectancy because of the poor quality of our FOR PROFIT ‘healthcare’ system.

Was there another way to stop this CEO from hurting people than murdering him?

Not that I know of. And while I’m not an advocate of murder, unless you run a Power Trip on him to commit suicide, Brian Thompson wasn’t going to change his marauding ways.

Can’t sue him. Sue any major corp, and their stable of lawyers will tie you up in court until you or your organization can no longer afford representation for your case.

Can’t talk to him, convince him to do right by the patients who pay for his family, his lifestyle, and the politicians UnitedHealthcare supports. He exhibited his relentless greed, and clearly didn’t care about anyone outside his personal sphere.

In 2014, the U.S. Supreme Court decided that corporations are people too. In doing so, they expanded corporate rights to donate as much money, resources (lawyers), and lobbyists to whatever cause, and political agenda they wanted. Corporations control the politicians of this country. We are NOT “by the people, for the people.” The U.S. was started by oligarchs who convinced the rabble to fight their battle to avoid paying taxes to Britain.

The U.S.A. is now and likely has always been a totalitarian society ruled by oligarchs and the super wealthy who will do anything to get rich and stay rich. Brian Thompson’s estimated net worth at death was close to $50 million, which he made saving money for UnitedHealthcare by killing off patients. That $50M is public facing, not how much he likely had hidden in offshore accounts to avoid paying taxes.

So, do we kill all the oligarchs wrecking this country?

  • We can’t get rid of them legally. Our govt protects corporations and the executives who work for them, not the 99% of the rest of us in this country.
  • We can’t convince them to become moral people who care about someone beyond themselves.
  • We can’t elect politicians that will be ‘by the people, for the people’ when the oligarchs and wealthy corps are paying our representatives to create laws that divests them of all culpability to keep them rich and in power.

What to do with the greedy oligarchs like Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, Charles Koch, Harold Hamm, Larry Ellison, Sergey Brin, Larry Page, Warren Buffet, and CEO’s like Dave Brown (CEO Xfinity), Gail Boudreaux (CEO of Anthem/Blue Cross), Patti Poppe (CEO of PG&E), Sarah Chavarria (CEO of Delta Dental), Michael L. Tipsord (CEO of State Farm Insurance), Thomas J. Wilson (CEO of Allstate Insurance), Gregory Adams (CEO Kaiser Permanente), David Cordani (CEO Cigna Health), Jason Hollar (CEO Cardinal Health), Mike Slubowski (CEO Trinity Health)…etc?

Would shooting them all stop these corporations from stealing from the 99% of the rest of us?

If it would lead to a more equitable system of government — ‘by the [majority of] people, for the [majority of] people,’ — is it then the ‘right thing to do’ to murder these people to change a corrupt system controlled by the greedy 1%?

What Makes a Great Man

by jcafesin, posted in masculinity

Men are the freight train comin’ at ya.
Women are the poison in your food…

I’m a guy’s girl, meaning I’ve spent most of my life hanging out with men instead of women. The freight train comin’ at ya, I prefer men’s straightforward nature, their directness, their unwavering, solution-oriented trajectory. Men are simpler than women. Not less intelligent, just not so round-about, from behind, underneath.

Women, by contrast, are the poison in our food. Eons of subjugation have forced us to become puppet-masters to get what we want/need for ourselves and our children. Not a judgment call, simply a fact that until very recently might was necessary for our species survival, putting men firmly on top of the human hierarchy. Greater muscle mass to kill mastodons gave men the ability to take what they wanted, including sex. From our beginnings, men have assumed they controlled the household with superior strength.

Notice I said, “men assumed they controlled the household.” Well, you know what happens when you ass(of)u(and)me…;-}

Seriously though, probably pretty early on, like cavemen times, women figured out how to get men to do what we want using our wit and wiles. Genetic transfer of memory over thousands of generations of women passing on how to be manipulative eventually became woven into the DNA and imprinted on our XX chromosomes.

Regardless of why women became… complex, the fact that we are scares me about us. Women don’t only manipulate men. Quite often our children, sometimes even our friends, and all too often ourselves. I’d much rather face a freight train because if I’m paying attention, I can get off the tracks before getting slammed. Hence, why I’m a guy’s girl.

Men have historically subjugated women simply because they could. A mere six generations ago, women were not allowed to own their own property or keep their own wages. The only way to keep her family fed and a roof over their heads was to placate to a man. Until as recently as the 1970s, women could not get a mortgage loan without a co-signature from a man. And even today, stats from Dept. of Labor for 2023 show women still make 83% of a man for the exact same job.

Times truly are changing, though. Want a mastodon? Buy one on Amazon. Men’s physical prowess is unnecessary in today’s world. Upwards of 60% more women graduate college then men today. Most educated women pursue a career path and can pay their own way through life now, even if we still typically make less then men. Most of us don’t need a man’s financial support to survive or even thrive. Technology — from the Pill to the PC — has made it possible for women to control our own destinies, and function equally alongside men in most of today’s business environments. The few jobs still requiring brute strength are being replaced by robots.

Men are losing their position atop the social order with every advance of technology, and every law enforcing equal rights. And falling off the tip top position of authority hurts. I get that. It’s why more men voted for Trump than women, by a lot. The new pres elect promised to MAKE MEN GREAT AGAIN, but this is a lie, like most everything else out of the man/child’s mouth.

  • Great men don’t need to subjugate anyone. They value input and recognize insights from their spouses and colleagues to their children.
  • Great men don’t need to be ‘right’ all the time. They respect other’s POV, often learn from them and alter their position.
  • Great men think with their brains, not their ‘little heads.’
  • Great men are humble, remorseful when they screw up. They don’t blame the people they’ve hurt when made aware. They apologize and try not to repeat the hurtful behavior.
  • Great men know how to listen. Hear. Remember and learn from what is said and discussed.
  • Great men can disagree without rancor or hateful rhetoric. They’ve no need to put down their wives, their colleagues, or their children’s behavior or POV.
  • Great men don’t make their career/job, watching sports, doing hobbies, or fulfilling personal desires more important than anything else in their life.
  • Great men are connected outside themselves. They consider the lives they touch and care about the radiating effects of their actions before taking any.
  • Great men do not need to be served but take pleasure in serving others.
  • Great men are aware of their own emotions. They understand what they are feeling in real time and express their feelings instead of brooding with silent contempt.
  • Great men are not afraid of looking vulnerable or asking for help.
  • Great men truly care about the world around them. Not just in words but deeds — volunteering, teaching, giving, sharing, investing their time in not just personal pursuits but helpful and kind actions.
  • Great men are empathetic. Compassionate. Kindness is the foundation of what motivates most of their behavior towards others.

All of the bullet points above (and many more not listed) are also what makes a Great Human Being.

I’ve been privileged to know a few great men in my life. I am free to express my thoughts and feelings to them without worrying they’re going to dismiss what I say, put me down, stonewall me, or try to silence me by derailing the dialog when they’re losing their position with my reasoning. Our relationships are of mutual respect. I never need or desire to play puppet master with them.

Playing the role of puppet-master is exhausting. Figuring out and then implementing the primers and triggers to motivate the behavior I want takes more energy than I care to invest. I prefer just TALKING and honestly expressing what I need, which is why I generally suck at puppeteering. And quite frankly, with so few great men, or women who aren’t honest with themselves or those they try and manipulate, it’s been a lonely life, always on the outside looking in on communication games I don’t care to play.

Gaming honest communication to get your way, get what you want, or ‘win’ a dispute is destructive in the extreme. Successful relationships — where both parties feel heard, respected, appreciated — from partners to parenting to friendships and colleagues require listening and caring about the other person’s feelings, thoughts, and preferences, and of course, understanding you can’t always get what you want, but both get what they need in equal measure. Only in doing so can each be a safe harbor for the other.

It really is time to eradicate from the human lexicon these ingrained antiquated gender roles and social positions that have been in place since the beginning of our existence.

It’s time for men to realize that to be a Great Man now requires more than brute strength or bringing in an income. Step down from the throne, shed the bravado and learn to build partnerships on a foundation of trust through mutual respect and compromise.

Women must come out from underneath, behind, quietly poisoning the well of honest communication with puppeteering. Instead of continuing to play puppet-master, stop accepting slights to avoid conflict. It only builds resentment. Boldly, honestly express how you feel and what you need. Don’t settle on being ignored, undervalued, invisible, constantly acquiescing to his desires over your own. Don’t manipulate. Communicate. Keep pushing the envelope of awareness, and know evolution takes millennium to change what has been since humanity began. We are all works in progress, and we must learn from one another to thrive together.

Grand Fu*k*ng Cyn

by jcafesin, posted in Uncategorized

On our drive from school the other day my tweenage son told me a classmate had offered him a joint. I’d been preparing for this moment, staging it in my head for years, ready with my bag full of allegorical stories of my reckless youth before easing into the “Why drugs are bad for you” speech. But as I drove home searching for how to begin, I remembered when I was a teen, walking in on my sister’s confession, and my twisted interpretation of her troubling story…

I was fourteen, finishing 8th grade. Another sunny day in L.A., and I came into my house sweating from my twenty-minute walk home from middle school. I heard my sister talking in our parent’s bedroom, which was usually off-limits to anyone but them. When I got to their doorway, I saw my sister and mom sitting next to each other on the end of our parent’s bed. They stared at me standing in the threshold, looking more like siblings the way their short, thick dark hair framed their tear-streaked faces.

I migrated into the room looking back and forth between them and asked what was going on. They shared a non-verbal exchange as I sat across from them on the little cushioned chair in front of the mirrored vanity. After some time trying to gain her composure, Mom finally launched into the reveal. She wiped away her tears, then told me that my sister had been ill. This was not hard for me to fathom, since in the last year she’d dropped a lot of weight, and more recently, her skin was turning orange.

We were not close siblings. She was two years older and had worn her weight loss like a badge of honor, but with my mom’s assertion I felt the ground falling away thinking of cancer or some other horrible life-threatening illness. My mother continued to explain that my sister had been starving herself for the last few years to lose weight, and had started vomiting most of what she did eat this past year to stay thin. She became so overwhelmed with grief in the telling that fresh tears slid down her cheeks. She covered her mouth and sobbed.

My sister took over, delivering her words vacillating between shame and pride. She sat perched on the edge of the bed and confessed to years of fasting and purging because skinny was in, and she didn’t want to be left out. She touched on her orange skin from eating lettuce and carrots exclusively for days. She talked about losing her period, her reason for confessing to our mother, afraid she’d become sterile. Then she changed tracks, and clearly delighted, she spoke of shopping with friends, and finally fitting into the skin-tight Calvin Klein jeans that the actress Brook Shields famously posed in. My sister had become part of the in-crowd and reveled in being desired by the popular boys in school. Like most of her high-school girlfriends, she’d finally achieved what I thought impossible for our well-endowed family lineage. She was unarguably thin.

My mother had regained her composure and sat next to my sister silently ringing her hands. I sat on the little cushioned stool staring at my skinny sister, consumed with jealousy. I wanted to be her. I, too, wanted to be rail thin, heroin chic, a cover-girl stunner like my big sister. To me, she was beautiful — sleek, tight, hip, slick and trendy. She was what I too aspired to be, what every magazine, TV show, and movie showed attractive, desired women should be. Thin.

And she’d just told me how to get there.

What I heard her say that afternoon was starving and vomiting worked to lose weight. I failed to acknowledge her detailed account of the toll the eating disorder took on her body and mind. I stopped listening right after she told me how she’d gotten skinny. Everything that followed was white noise.

From that day forward, and for the next five years I threw up frequently after eating to purge my body of the calories. I starved myself for days, sometimes going for weeks eating just vegetables. I tried to ignore that I was tired all the time, and chronically cranky, and falling into a black kind of depression. The desire to be thin superseded all reason. If my sister could do it, I could, and would, and did, regardless of the health risks.

Several years in therapy with a nutritionist gave my sister the fortitude to eat healthy, combat social pressures and become more accepting of her body. I learned to control my weight with exercise. Racquetball and running eventually replaced retching, but every time I over-indulge I consider throwing up to rid my body of the unwanted calories. To this day my sister’s words still echo in my head and taunt me — not all of what she said, only what I heard.

I pulled my Prius into the garage this afternoon and I looked at my beautiful son in the rearview mirror awaiting my lecture. My stomach hurt from the pasta salad I’d eaten for lunch earlier. My heart hurt — lost for words of wisdom for my kid. I wanted to purge my body of the heaviness, then shook my head in disgust at the notion, hoping my son didn’t catch it. Thirty years later, I’m still fighting the voices inside my head that rationalized my sister’s eating disorder as a workable solution to weight loss.

I led my son into the house for a snack and a chat. And I lied. I made up a tale of a friend’s reckless behavior that led to disaster. I told story after story of kids I went to high school with who were users and grew up to be losers (though I knew none). I assured him popularity did not come with using. I left no space for him to surmise drugs were simple fun, or required to be ‘in.’ I chose my words carefully, considered them from many angles for possible distortion before speaking, even asked him to summarize what I’d said often to make sure we were on the same page. And though he parroted my sentiments in detail, in recalling my experience with my sister, I am left with lingering concern he didn’t really hear me.

Sometimes, between what is said and what is heard is the Grand f***ing Canyon.

A Thousand Slights

by jcafesin, posted in Uncategorized

A journal entry to my 7-year-old daughter on the nature of women and men…

I have this lump in my throat as I write this. I want to cry, for the ‘Thousand Slights’ you’ll suffer, my baby. I want to shield you from that pain. But I can’t. And it makes me feel helpless and hopeless and scared for you, and for all women.

I love you, J.

You were in the playroom when I came in last night after shopping. You were building with Magnatiles, this beautiful amphitheater structure. Dad and your brother were playing Stratego on the kitchen table. At first I thought the scene was good and you were happy down there on your own. But as I put the food away, I noticed your face. I saw your sadness, and as I write this I can’t stop my tears.

Daughter of mine, I want to tell you about a billion things here, things I’ve learned along the way. I want to ponder with you the infinite worlds of things I’m still missing. But one thing I know for sure, men are not wired like women. They’re not. They’re not connected outward, outside themselves most of the time. Most men anyway. And that is going to come back and bite you again and again. Their often indifferent, self-focused behavior will hurt you deeply. And I’m sorry. I wish it was different.

The thing is, men are genetically wired inward, their senses connected to their body, and inside their own psyche. Until very recently, women were more chattel than partner before the suffrage movement in the early 1900s. This is not an indictment of men. After loving many over the years, marrying one, and raising another, I’ve come to see that there really are genetic differences between our genders.

Perhaps because women give birth, we are connected outside ourselves. Most women are naturally maternal, hardwired to be caregivers, pay attention to the needs of those around us. Maybe it’s because we’re the ‘weaker sex,’ have been at the mercy of men’s physical prowess that women have evolved to be aware, present in our environments for self-preservation. I’m uncertain why women are wired outside ourselves. I just know most are.

Dad and E were plugged into themselves last night. I’m sorry you were excluded. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make them more aware of how that affected you. And I know it doesn’t really count to say they had no intention of hurting you. The truth is, they didn’t even notice they were.

My father used to tell me, “You’re going to have to bring most men to you — make them aware of your needs, even the needs of their kids.” I didn’t believe him. Old school thinking, before women worked alongside men to support the household. I figured men were more evolved somehow by now.

As you discovered last night, they’re generally not. You asked dad to be on his team, but when he said No, you should have told him how that made you feel. Don’t just walk away and feel hurt.

J, you are my ray of sunshine. You’re positively delightful by everyone’s reckoning who has the privilege of knowing you. I fear the ‘Thousand Slights’ will rob you of your lightness. I hope you don’t let them.

Don’t accept slights to avoid conflict. It will only build resentment inside you. Express what you need, how you feel. Don’t settle on being ignored, undervalued, invisible, constantly acquiescing to everyone’s desires but your own. Keep pushing the envelope of awareness, and know evolution takes millennium. We are all works in progress, and we must learn from one another to thrive together.

On Medicine Today

by jcafesin, posted in civil rights, politics

Got Covid again last month. Second time, close to a year after my first go-round with it. I’m fully vaxed. Workout 5 miles a day, 5 days a week. No underlying medical conditions. Low-risk age group.

I got Covid the first time at a karaoke bar when the person sitting next to me literally spit in my mouth. Not purposefully. She was singing with the tone deaf performer, along with most of the bar. It lasted 5 days. I had the typical symptoms and I thought it was done, but 4 weeks after I tested negative, I ended up with a vitreous detachment in my right eye. Two weeks after that, I was in the hospital with vertigo.

My husband took me to Emergency, and after throwing up in the empty waiting room for 20 minutes we followed a nurse into a small glass enclosure. She instructed me to get into the bed while she asked me questions I could barely answer, entered my information into her iPad, and left. The doctor came in 30 minutes later and asked the exact same questions as the nurse. The doctor instructed the nurse what medication to give me intravenously, and what prescriptions I should pick up on my way home, then left. I did not see him again, and was released from the hospital half-hour later.

I was at the hospital for about two and a half hrs, 20 minutes of which I spent in the waiting room, and another 30 waiting for the doctor. Besides the nurse, the only other person who came into the enclosure was a woman collecting $350, credit cards accepted into her handheld payment device. I received a saline solution for hydration, and Metoclopramide to curb the nausea, (though by the time it was administered, my nausea had passed). Oh, and I saw the doctor for less than 5 minutes.

The hospital bill for my Emergency visit was over $3,500. I personally paid out-of-pocket close to $1,200, though I am fully insured and pay $700+ monthly for Blue Shield medical insurance.

Getting the picture why I was scared out of my mind of having Covid again?

Beyond the damage to my health the virus was undoubtedly doing, how much was this second round of Covid going to cost me in downtime and money?

I’d heard of Paxlovid from their constant TV commercials. Pfizer, and their like seem to sponsor most network news these days. “If taken within 5 days of symptoms, Paxlovid reduces severe Covid symptoms in high-risk patients by 86%,” the authoritative male voice-over proclaimed. The ad closed with a quick list of all the reported side effects, including, but not limited to death.

The commercial ran through my head as I lay awake with body aches and sweats. Four days into suffering from this new round of Covid, I asked my husband to call the doctor I’d seen only once, the previous year, for my Long Covid symptoms, and get a prescription for Paxlovid. A part of me didn’t think the doctor could legally prescribe the drug since I don’t exactly fit the ‘high-risk’ profile. The on-call doctor who I’ve never met prescribed me Paxlovid, assuring my husband it was the best course of action to shut down the virus and minimize the risk of another round with Long Covid.

Promises. Promises.

During the time DH was procuring the Paxlovid from our local pharmacy, I searched the internet for data from studies on the drug. The first 5 pages of Google returns were from Pfizer and other Big Pharma corps. Big Pharma pays Google billions annually to advertise their offerings, so of course, Google’s top search results are from their highest paying clients. Google’s returns also included a range of ‘medical’ websites, like WebMD, CVS.com, and Medical News Today, supported by pharmaceutical giants through affiliate marketing. Nine out of ten medical sites pulled their content from Pfizer’s website, all proclaiming the wonders of Paxlovid.

Feverish and exhausted, I searched for FACTS. I started crying reading all the lies from Pfizer, and every other site Google returned, all of them dismissing the complaints from people on Reddit or other discussion forums about their horrible reactions to Paxlovid. Pfizer, and therefore every site that got their content from Pfizer, were all spreading PR lies claiming there was no proof the ill effects reported from taking Paxlovid were related to their drug.

Frustrated and desperate to get the TRUTH, I called the doctor who’d given me the prescription. Talking to him was on par with reading Pfizer’s website — he literally quoted their PR, told me everything I’d read already. When I questioned him about, well, anything negative I’d read in my research, he told me, “Don’t get on the internet and look this stuff up. All it’ll do is scare you.” He went on to instruct me to take the Paxlovid for the next 5 days as prescribed, and I’d be fine. “You may get a slight metallic taste in your mouth, but that’s about it, and that hardly happens to anyone, like 3%.” This was a direct quote from Pfizer I’d read many times in my research. My doctor was repeating to me the same bullshit that the sexy, busty, bubble-headed female Pfizer rep sold to him about Paxlovid.

I had almost every side effect, other than dying, (though some moments I wished I would) from taking Paxlovid. The metallic taste in my mouth was so severe it made me sicker than Covid. I could barely eat. It made me dizzy, and nauseous. I had trouble sleeping while on it. But worse, I got Covid again, a third time, 2 weeks after I had a negative test. And Pfizer KNEW I WOULD. They call it “Rebound” cases, and if you look on Reddit, you’ll find MOST WHO TOOK PAXLOVID GOT A REBOUND CASE — meaning they tested positive for Covid again, weeks after they thought it was over. Without Paxlovid, I got over my first round of Covid in 5 days. It took me almost a month to clear my system of the virus on Paxlovid.

Until Covid, I’d been in the hospital 3 times in my life. I wiped out on my bike and screwed up my knee at 23. I ended up at a Public hospital without insurance at the time (staffed by young intern doctors and training nurses relatively clueless about medicine beyond gunshot wounds and ODs). The other two were to birth my kids.

What these recent experiences have taught me:

  • Google returns and promotes LIES. Google is the ONE (and only) SOURCE MOST USED to get their information.
  • Doctors LIE. They are clueless about most new pharms they prescribe. They simply repeat what these pretty young women are selling them, accepting ‘gifts’ of cash and vacation perks; or maybe they’ll check out the link Pfizer sent them about their new ‘targeted’ cure for Covid.
  • Big Pharma LIES. They consistently over-promise and under deliver. They steal from consumers because our govt lets them. Hundreds of billions of our tax dollars go to fund Pfizer and their like. They should be GIVING AWAY THESE DRUGS because U.S. citizens have PAID FOR THEM WITH OUR TAXES. Yet, they charge us fortunes while making themselves billions annually.
  • Our medical system is BROKEN. Medical debt is the #1 reason for bankruptcy in this country. Money for medicine DOES NOT WORK for anyone other than the wealthy, and the U.S. congress, and our elected officials.

What to do with these FACTS?

  1. Get your information from MANY SOURCES, not just Google!
  2. Don’t blindly believe your doctors, as they choose to remain ignorant to the fact that 74% of the 50 new drugs approved by the FDA in 2022 had little proof they actually worked. Research! Reddit. Discord. DuckDuckGo. Bing. White papers, valid medical studies (called Abstracts)…etc.
  3. VOTE BLUE, as Republicans want to take away Medicare, Medicaid, and most social services. They believe in “Trickle Down Economics” which has created more oligarchs than any other socioeconomic practice — loosening regulations and providing tax ‘incentives’ for corporations and individuals with high incomes. Democrats, though not much better as they are still slaves to Corporate America’s lobbyists, at least have an eye out for the middle class in this country. They support more social services, like the Affordable Care Act (‘Obamacare’), mental and reproductive healthcare, Medicaid and Medicare, and lower prescription drug costs. In 2024, close to 69% of the world’s population has some form of Universal Healthcare, while the U.S. still does not. UHC is not socialism. Access to quality medical care regardless of income should be a Civil Right. Let’s do better — serve the many, not just the few! VOTE BLUE.

    An Inconvenient Truth About Men and Women

    by jcafesin, posted in Uncategorized

    “You are so beautiful, my baby. Once you slim down boys will notice and you’ll get as many dates as you want,” my mother promised me in her kitchen when I was 16, her response to my crying to her how lonely I felt with no one asking me out. “I guarantee you, you’ll have your pick of boys if you just lose weight.” She assured me that afternoon that thin was in, and if I wanted to be I would have to capitulate to the social standards of Los Angeles in the late 20th century.

    I mistakenly believed her that day.

    Indeed, heroin thin was in in the 60s — 90s, when actresses like Audrey Hepburn and supermodels like Twiggy were the iconic images of feminine beauty. And thin still is in, even today. Especially in L.A. In fact, thin as a beauty standard goes back to the ancient Greeks, with marble statues of athletic but slender women. (Plump [not fat] was in for a very elite group and only for a short while in history as a display of wealth, in contrast to most of the starving population.)

    Weeks after my mother’s guarantee I’d be popular and have all the dates I wanted with my pick of boys if I got thin, I was in the high school gym and a senior was giving out Black Beauties with promises it was a miracle drug for weight loss. She got the little black capsules from her mother’s medicine cabinet and was hoping the girls she turned on to the amphetamine would pay for more. She turned out to be right.

    Took me about 6 months, on Beauties almost daily, until I lost the extra weight I’d carried since early childhood. I got pretty my senior year in high school. I was socially acceptably thin. My mother was so proud. I’d come into the kitchen in the afternoons after school and she’d gush over how ‘shapely’ I looked in those jeans or that cami or fitted T. She was clueless I was on pharms, stolen from a classmate’s mother.

    Boys at school, men at my work, and when I was out and about started to notice me. And for a bit, it felt empowering finally being an object of desire. Flirting was fun on campus, especially with boys who’d ignored me before. And to my mother’s point, I did get asked out occasionally.

    Even pudgy, I’d not considered dating high school boys since the 9th grade. Male puberty had most all of them thinking through their ‘little head’ 24/7, and I wanted so much more than being another notch on some teen boy’s bedpost. Grown men were more mature, I assured myself.

    Turns out, most are not.

    Not then. Not now.

    Being objectified for my body got old quick. The more dates I had, the more I realized the ‘men’ had asked me out for one reason only — to get laid. During most ‘dates,’ I basically had to interview the guys as they never asked me anything, or even turned my questions around. It was all about them all the time. After the date, they expected to come back to my place, or go to theirs and fuck. ‘Make love.’ ‘Get intimate.’ These colloquialisms are lies. There is nothing ‘intimate’ about fucking a stranger. And to achieve our highest attainment — love — requires more like hundreds of dates.

    By the time I turned 30 the canonical line among most single working women I knew or met was: “Men want a mother in the form of a whore.” And for the most part, I had to agree. It seemed most heterosexual men I went out with, or even ended up dating a while ultimately wanted a woman who would listen to them, admire them, adore them, and have sex at their will. They had little to no interest in my mind — what I thought about or what mattered to me. And none had any interest in learning from me, but were always happy to spout their knowledge and wisdom.

    From fourteen till I married at 37, I literally dated hundreds of men, so my sample size is not tiny, especially if you add in the thousands of women I’ve listened to over the years recounting their dating history. And quite frankly, their marriages haven’t turned out much different.

    I get it. I do. Men have been on top of the social order from our beginnings. Might equals right, so men made the rules, wrote the bibles, set up the laws, and subjugated women because, well, they could (and still do with the 6 male members of our Supreme Court). Move forward from bringing home the mastodon to bringing home a salary — men have also been burdened with being the providers, so I understand why most men felt it was their God-given right to rule the roost they provided for.

    The problem is, the world I grew up in is changing, while most men are not. Women were given equal rights under the law with The Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) in 1972, but we were not, and are still not seen as social equals to men. Back in the 80s, if we worked, which most of us did by then, we were teachers, nurses, admin, therapists, or careers in the Arts, as was mine as a graphic designer. I, personally, made half the salary of the man in the cubical next to me. And even today, women make roughly 22% less than men doing the exact same job. And even worse, a quarter of the way into this new millennium, my 22 yr old daughter, and most all of her girlfriends still have the exact same issues with men I did when I was single.

    At her college graduation in June, my beautiful baby bemoaned the fact that she didn’t have a boyfriend like most of her girlfriends had acquired during their years on campus.

    “Do you like Del’s boyfriend?” I asked her.

    “No. He’s a dick. He doesn’t listen to a word she says. All he wants her for is free sex.”

    “What do you think of Jenny’s guy?”

    “OMG. He’s so cringe! He spends more time with his guy friends than her, except when he comes over drunk to get laid.”

    “And what about Nik’s boyfriend? She’s been dating him since her Sophomore year.”

    “He’s Muslim, so he doesn’t want sex before marriage, though they do everything else. But he treats her like a possession — at his beck and call, and he’s all over her in public to make sure everyone knows she’s his.”

    Like her female peers, my daughter dated guys she met on campus and online throughout her college years. None worked out beyond the first date, and most never even made it that far. A few text exchanges made it clear the guy was looking for a hookup. My daughter is not. Nor does she want to model her friends “just to have a boyfriend.”

    “I’m a social pariah since I haven’t had sex yet, Mom,” my daughter assured me at her graduation dinner. “But I want so much more than what my friends have settled for.”

    Ah, from the mouths of babes…

    Dating, in a short or long-term relationship, or married, most women I know or have met along the way seemingly want more from most men than they’re getting. As men are no longer the sole provider for most households, some women, like my daughter, (and 60+ yr old wives driving the current divorce rate) are demanding more. Sadly, so many of her peers are still role-modeling ancient times to the early 1970s when there was no such thing as equal rights, accepting selfish, disrespectful behavior from their boyfriends so they can be in — show their peers to their parents that they are socially acceptably desired. Women are groomed from birth to be physically desirable.

    Equal rights does not stop at equal pay. Money is not the end all that will move society to treat each other equitably. Truth is, it really is up to women to create a more equitable society.

    1. Women must learn to value our minds over our physicality.
    2. Women want equality — to get paid the same in the workplace, and treated equally in public and private relationships. WE want the change, not men who’ve sat on top of the social order for eons. Women have to create the change we want, beginning with our self-perception. We have to fight to be heard and recognized for our knowledge and achievements. We must demand compromise instead of simply giving [in]. It’s hard to do for most of us, often impossible for many women to put self before others. Women are groomed from birth to be maternal.
    3. Even today, most of childhood parenting is still done by the mom. Let’s teach our daughters, and even our sons out of the womb that humanity is one race, and we are better when we work together. Mom and Dad, reject the gender hierarchy established at the dawn of the human race that has been playing out through the generations like a genetic disease. Teach our kids to respect, consider, and communicate with each other regardless of race, age, or gender. Then perhaps our daughter’s daughter’s daughter will never know the oh so very lonely chasm inherent in the gender divide of yesteryear and today. Instead, our great-great-great-grandchildren will get to experience the deep intimate connection that can only be achieved with true equality.

    FFTZ 2.0, Now in PRINT

    by jcafesin, posted in Authors, avid readers, BLACK MIRROR, Contemporary Fiction, ebook, education, Family, Fantasy, Fantasy Series, Fractured Fairytales, gamers, gaming, indie authors, Indie-Press, Los Angeles, Magic, parenting, psychological thriller, psychology, puppies, raising kids, relationships, Romance, Romantic Read, Romantic Suspense, science fiction, thriller, Twilight Zone, Women's Fiction, Women's Fiction

    Fractured Fairy Tales of the Twilight Zone now in PRINT!
    https://www.amazon.com/dp/1732543143

    Contemporary Fantasy and Modern Romance with lessons for life…

    Believing is NOT Thinking

    by jcafesin, posted in Uncategorized

    My father is a fervent Republican. My mother was a Democrat. I once saw him put his fist through the maple cabinet an inch from my mother’s head because her vote was going to cancel his in the second Reagan election. Though he never hit her, connected anyway, he often shouted, slammed things, threw things, even at me, when he encountered resistance (reason) when espousing his conservative views.

    My father doesn’t believe Global Warming is real or caused by us in any way (absolving himself of conserving resources).

    My father believes all non-believers — atheists and agnostics — are dangerous fools to be converted.

    My father distrusts all Muslims.

    My father believes in trickle-down economics, though it’s been proven again and again it makes the rich richer while wiping out the middle class.

    My father doesn’t believe in gun control. “If they come for me, I’ll stop them at the door.” He quotes the NRA with fervor! “Take away what kind of guns we get to own, and you chip away at the foundation of the 2nd Amendment,” he preaches.

    I remind him he can’t stop a tank with an AK-47. I implore him to examine history, and context, that the right to bear arms our forefathers were talking about were pistols and shotguns that took three minutes to load and didn’t fire straight or would blow up in your face. Automatic assault weapons were neither considered, nor anticipated when the 2nd Amendment was written.

    He scoffs. As his daughter, and a woman, I am clueless.

    As a mother of two amazing, spectacular children, I am horrified, not only by mass shootings on school campuses, but everywhere else, every time an assault weapon is used against our own because the NRA wants to stay rich. And our government officials, Republican senators in particular, ostensibly “by the people, for the people,” are paid off by gun lobbyists to let them.

    I grew up in L.A., on the Valley side of the Hollywood Hills. I went to school with writers, producers, directors’ kids, all fairly to extremely liberal. My father was the outlier in our neighborhood and among my parents’ colleagues and friends. The Great Divide between the Republicans and Democrats, fueled by Reagan pushing religion, conservatism, then ignited by Bush Jr’s Christian administration, and then concertized in lies, ignorance, and hate by Trump, didn’t exist yet. My parents lived together in relative peace, except around election times.

    We have become a polarized nation, and this serves no one here. On the personal level, it has divided me from my family. My siblings, like my father, are fervent Republicans. My sister, disgusted we’re raising our kids without religion, decided she’d had enough of my liberal leanings and checked out of our lives entirely, leaving our kids deeply hurt their aunt had abandoned them. My brother used to forward me emails from his Born-Again community that Obama was a Jew-hating Muslim who believed it’s okay to kill babies. During Trump’s reign, he spoke of the evil liberals who supported abortion and insisted the rights of a fetus eclipsed those of the mother. My brother’s ignorance is only eclipsed by his blind faith in his Christian leaders’ conservative rhetoric.

    The chasm in our morality and our philosophies is so diametrically opposed at this point that the rare times I talk with my father our dialog quickly sours, then invariably turns contentious. I’ve told him time and again I won’t discuss politics with him, but he insists on little digs, like, “Do you care about your kids?” He has not spoken with our children, his grandkids, in 7 years, or acknowledged them in any way, not birthdays, no calls, ever, and virtually never inquirers about them when I call him, which I always do because he doesn’t call me.

    Truth is, it’s getting harder and harder to call him. Almost two decades after my mom’s death, my father is undaunted by age or illness in his quest to spread conservative lies. He’s a true believer (as are most hard-core Republicans) because believing is easier than thinking. Being told what is right and wrong, good or bad, is simpler than considering the complexities of our behavior, and our obligations to each other and the world we inhabit.

    My remaining family believes women should not have the right of choice with our own bodies.

    My father and siblings believe gays should not have the legal, nor moral right to marry. They believe homosexuality is a mental illness.

    My family espouses they believe in “less government” — preaching the Republican’s canonical tagline — but want to govern (restrict) women’s choice and limit our birth control resources; control who gets to marry; limit medical treatment to those who can afford care; allow corporations to buy politicians that allow the mass murder of our children and citizens for corporate profit. They’d prefer to believe the GOP rhetoric that Global Warming isn’t happening and support the ‘rights’ of Big Oil to drill and frack our planet to death, instead of investing in renewable energy for our kids, and the welfare of Earth forward.

    I’ve been wondering when it’s time to say goodbye to family, even before they die. I’ve been grieving my sister’s departure from our lives since her exit 15 yrs ago. The little connection I retain with my brother and father seems… over. My kids have no relationship with either. We have virtually no common ground and share little time that doesn’t quickly turn combative. So really, what’s the point of trying to stay in touch? Harsh? You bet. Ugly? Yeah. I’m profoundly saddened that we’ve come to this impasse. Hurts. A lot, knowing almost half our nation feels as my family does. And I am mystified, disgusted, and shamed by their gullibility in choosing blind faith over thought and reason.

    We are again on the precipice of our survival as one nation, but this time the war isn’t with rifles that blow up in our faces when shot at the ‘enemy.’ Now, we must recognize the enemy is ourselves — choosing ignorance over reason because it’s easier to binge-watch Netflix, peruse Instagram, or stream gameplay on Twitch than it is to think.

    My daughter, a recent college grad, told me most of her friends off and online — this new round of young voters — will not be voting this election. They’re taking a stand, showing how they feel about our government, they claim, neglecting to understand without voting they are essentially voting in Trump. They say they’re disheartened by their choice between a great-grandfather and a misogynist (who they don’t say is just 3 yrs younger than Biden.) They focus on our current president’s age because their feeds on Insta, Facebook, Reddit [and their like] tell them to — flooded with GOP marketing to sway young voters Biden is too old for another term. They get their information from social media and blindly believe their feeds, not knowing, or even caring that what they are scrolling through is personally targeted at them, and designed to manipulate them to buy, try, subscribe, and believe in snake oil.

    The chasm between us will continue to grow with more believers buying into the derisive rhetoric of their religious leaders, politicians, Google’s search results, and ‘personalized’ marketing on social platforms and apps. More families are finding themselves on opposite sides of an ideological divide that will likely tear them apart, like mine, unless we STOP believing and start thinking what is right, not only for ourselves and our family, but broader, more complex considerations that include finding and creating ways to help our neighbors, community, this country, and our planet thrive.

    The Fallacy of Palestinian Protests

    by jcafesin, posted in Uncategorized

    My daughter, a college senior, told me yesterday that she joined the Palestinian protest on campus.

    “I believe that genocide is wrong, Mom. So, I stood up for what I believe.”

    I think she expected me to be proud of her, but her words made my skin crawl. My daughter knows nothing of the history of either country. She has no idea why there is a war between Israel and Palestine now, how the war even started, or why Israel is bombing the Gaza Strip. In fact, she has no idea where the Gaza Strip is, or why it is there, or who their govt is.

    I raised my kids to stand up and speak out when they encounter racism, sexism, ignorance, hate. I did not teach them to blithely go along with the crowd. That’s how Nazis came about.

    Do you know that Hamas, the government of Gaza, launched an unprovoked attack on Israel, killed over 1,200 people, and kidnapped 253 in October of last year?

    No.

    And did you know Hamas was raping 12–48 yr old girls and women they kidnapped, then posting it online to terrorize victim’s loved ones?

    I haven’t heard that. All I heard was Israel was bombing civilians in Palestine and killing mostly women and children.

    Do you know that the government the Palestinian people voted in are using their women and children as cover for their terrorist shit, and that is why they were getting killed in Israeli bombings?

    No. But it doesn’t make it right that Israel is killing kids.

    No. It doesn’t. I didn’t say Israel is right. There is no right here, baby. Both sides are wrong. I’m not pro-Israel. They know that Hamas is sacrificing Palestinian children, yet instead of targeted strikes against Hamas, they are wielding an iron fist. Badly. Ugly. For sure. 100%.

    So, what’s wrong with me joining the protest then, when even you don’t believe Israel is right? she asked me, exasperated.

    My beautiful daughter, siding with one side or the other is divisive in the extreme. It perpetuates the problems there, and creates more here, between us. Call out bad behavior, like Israel knowingly killing civilians regardless of their reasons. Or Palestinians voting in a fanatical religious government with an agenda to kill all Israelis. Neither is right. Call out bad behavior, not an entire nation. Do not get on the PC train because your friends are and you wanta fit in. Do the research before taking a stand. Blind faith means turning off your brain. And that is never OK.

    So you think I shouldn’t have joined the protest?

    Do you know professional agitators are targeting campuses like yours to get all you kids riled up? And that most of these protests wouldn’t even be happening if not for the pro-agitators who are paid big bucks to get online and throw a protest.

    I thought they were all student here. Who would pay someone to do that?

    I don’t know. But right now I’m betting on the Republican party. They want to destabilize our nation because the more chaotic the better Trump’s chances of winning the election.

    Seriously? she asked, aghast, as she feels like I do about our misogynist x-pres.

    I don’t know, honey. What I do know is ninety-nine point nine nine nine…etc. percent of these college protesters have no clue about what is going on over there, just like you don’t. They catch news bites online, and the bloodier the bites the more eyeballs they get. The news just loves a great car crash!

    Standing up for ONE SIDE when you don’t know the history, the region, the people, the conflicts that have been there since the UN decided Israel’s borders, the wars, how they started, or why they started is, well, ignorant. So you were out there with a bunch of ignorant students who are creating more conflict, more hate, more antisemitism with their protest. And it won’t change a thing because the universities will not cut all ties with Israel. Ever. Israel is a collaborative partner in research and development of medicine to tech, the primary function of any university. With all this in mind, do YOU think you should have been out there protesting?

    The energy was so electric with all those people, Mom. It sure felt like we were doing something meaningful.

    Promoting ignorance and hate is never meaningful, baby. Don’t just go along with the crowd and create more conflict like these protests do. Making a real difference takes work, honey. Lots of work, over a long time. Think, research, a LOT, since so much of the internet is lies. Then form your own opinion, and act to be part of the solution.