19 November 2002 ~ Damn the Man...

Last night, I deliberately missed my bus stop so I could stay on the bus and talk to a dude sitting next to me about jazz. He was reading some papers about some artists who do some really crazy, weird stuff. He was also very short -- in a stooped, geeky sort of way -- and came off as a total dweeb. But whatever; I really could not help flirting with him. He was just such a freak! I really couldn't help it! So I ended up walking ten blocks instead of one, in bitter-cold wind and rain.

Whatever. I'm a slut for freaky people. And gahd knows, I manage to FIND them everywhere.

Besides: how the fuck many people know EXACTLY what song I'm talking about when I say: "You know, that one song? With the saxophones? 'Music To Break Dishes By'?" I suspect the dork on the bus might have been my revered DJ, Fred.

Heh. Slut.

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After three days of listening to nothing but classic rock, as I used to do in Binghamton, I believe I have isolated three of the creepiest song lyrics ever in the history of song lyrics...

Number one, by Manfred Mann:
"Blinded by the light,
Wrapped up like a douche,
Another runner in the night..."

Douche? DOUCHE??? Hell, even the DJ's at WAAL used to SWEAR those were the words...

Number two, by Traffic:
Any lyric from "John Barleycorn Must Die."

I mean, duh... that's just creepy shit...

And third, finally, by the Beatles:
"He blew his mind out in a car...
He didn't notice that the lights had changed..."

Dude... I think I REALLY heard that lyric for the first time this morning, and it's just... creepy, and gross, and disturbing... Who would have thought that the freaking Beatles could come up with something so awful?

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Why am I writing about these things?

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Jake's pre-trial hearing is on Thursday morning.

If I was in Binghamton -- and I sort of wish I was, but only for an hour or two -- I would go downtown, and stand on the roof of the State Street parking garage, and gaze off at Lady Justice on top of the old Courthouse. I always got the feeling that, despite being a statue, Lady Justice sort of oversaw everything that was going on around her... I wish she was here...

Jake and I aren't allowed to speak -- still.

We're going to be sitting in the same lobby before the hearing, and we won't be allowed to speak. Three weeks have gone by since we've said a word to each other, and we've since found out that we're going to have a child together, and we've got a million things still left over to talk about from the night of Jake's arrest, and I have NO idea what he's been doing the past three weeks, or if he's at all happy with anything in his life... and we're going to be sitting next to each other, and we can't speak.

If I haven't yet said it, this is not justice.

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I wrote my statement last week.

I think it's pretty good. Not perfect, but pretty good. Tomorrow, I polish it up. Meanwhile, the lawyers DON'T GET A COPY. Because every damned time I talk to the lawyers, they give me some happy, optimistic crap, and then turn it around on Jake. I won't talk to lawyers anymore. At least, not the prosecution. FUCK the prosecution.

This isn't a matter for the fucking legal system anyway.

Fuck, even if Jake WAS all of the things he's being accused of being, even if the "crime" happened EXACTLY the way they're presenting it -- shouldn't *I* be the one to determine whether I want Jake to be allowed to talk to me? Shouldn't *I* have been the one to press the charges? Washington State has this thing where the "state" takes over on all supposed domestic violence cases, and disregards the supposed victim.

First of all, I'm NOBODY'S fucken VICTIM.

Second of all, I wouldn't have pressed charges if I HAD been given the option, BECAUSE I'm not a victim, and BECAUSE I can handle things myself, in the long-term.

Third of all, who on earth gave authority to the motherfucken STATE to "save" me??? If I really had been hurt, if something really bad ever DID happen to me, why couldn't *I* be the one to say so?

It's a gross, disgusting, paternalistic system that assumes a "victimized" woman (because 85% of domestic violence victims are supposedly women -- according to the shit they keep sending me in the mail...) needs Big Boy Legal System to rescue her... It assumes that I'm stupid. It assumes that I am a victim -- AND I'M NOT!

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And I get to sit in the lobby Thursday morning with Jake... And look at him... And not speak or touch or make gestures.

He probably doesn't have any real idea that I didn't press the charges. Jake's used to seeing me as a strong and bitchy woman who gets her way. Jake wouldn't believe me if I DID tell him it's not REALLY my fault, that if it were up to me, I'd slap him on the wrist, yell at him for scaring me, and insist that he never, ever EVER drink around me, ever again. He probably thinks it's ME that's putting him through all this bullshit. And it SHOULD BE UP TO ME!!!

The law isn't here to protect me. It's here to suck ass and harass people.

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Cops killed a shoplifter downtown a week and a half ago. Killed him. A shoplifter. Dude, my little brother has shoplifted before. Hell, *I* have shoplifted before. They killed this guy. According to first-hand witnesses, the police were beating him even after they'd killed him and he was lying on the ground. They were "subduing" him.

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Cops pepper-sprayed a kid on campus, and may or may not have deliberately waited awhile to call the paramedics. The kid's crime? He threw an empty plastic vodka bottle in the air. It didn't even hit anybody. But he was "belligerent," so they pepper-sprayed him, and then didn't call the paramedics.

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And don't even get me started on lawyers again...

I say, Damn the Man.

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DAMN THE MAN.

~Helena*