I am particularly soured on web writing this morning, having wasted so much time on the issue of enabling code when I do not know how, and disgruntled at the prospect of wiping everything out and starting over. It isn't so much the forty dollars, or hammering out a niche, and failing not to devolve into my own ego, which I did not wish to do, or do but sparingly. It is about restoring a sense of respect and esteem to my life so that as I near the end I can say it was worth it.
As it stands now, it wasn't. I derived very little joy out of my equally sparing intimate episodes with men, and I doubt trying a lesbian experience would have improved on this, as I am hostile to the eroticism of my own gender, especially when directed at me deliberately. My main source of satisfaction was my work ethic, learned from my father, but only rarely enjoyed, and of that, being a journalist was my most vibrant investment, taking me outside of an ontology.
Short lived as it was, AccessLife made me happy, and I haven't been able to duplicate that experience very often. Ebert is not necessarily being a pansy ass when he tweets New Mobility columns, but New Mobility is trapped in an IL ideology from which it will not readily deviate. Josie Byzek, just like Jimmi Shrode, and Erik von Schmetterling, and Cassie James, and Linda C Dezenski, are all woven into this paradigm. None of them like me anymore, if they ever did, but none of them necessarily like each other. This movement is not entirely what it seems, to outside eyes, and what it expects to achieve in the long run is a mystery to me.
As I have written, I wanted an able life, and know I have the intelligence for the success I have envisioned but that otherwise eluded me; if Erik cannot work, I am not sure what emptying his catheter cached urine on Governor Rendell's leg achieves, as has been alleged. Erik has a studio, an entitlement, and his lover; his rage in this context seems counterproductive, and I think it has more to do with his failed body identification, and his inability to practice as a physician, since he became too disabled to be a doctor.
I share the anger at the society that they do, but both have failed me, the IL paradigm and what the able society is willing to invest toward equal opportunity, which, in the US, if your mobility options and adaptations are limited, means you're screwed, unless you live in DC and can access the federal district subway system. The EPVA had the muscle to create it, but as a country, our transport authorities are patchwork nightmares.
loki_onyx admonished me, before unfriending me, about attacking those who'd been kind to me: I needed to take a good look in the mirror. I wonder if loki isn't more protected in his Australian welfare state than I am in mine. After Suzanne Bacal'a funeral, Linda wrote me, "I wish I had been kinder to you," and "I've always recognized the bond between us." Confusing me, even before we came to blows.
Any CIL regular might suspect what she was up to. Peer support, feeding my concerns back to me. I actually thought she meant what she was telling me, and took it to heart.
But how was she kinder to me? I did not ask to be placed like a hapless pawn in the middle of a power struggle between her, Jimmi, Erik, and the indomitable Jewish lesbian, Fern Markowitz, who was toppled while I was gaily being crucified.
Maybe I cannot be *good enough,* any more, but a scholar willing to give me a chance on putting a thesis about Lampedusa's modernism together, or an editor giving me a chance to do a hard policy paper on redundancy, this means more to me than acts of charity.
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