I was at a recent TGIF get together with a friend who runs a green living on a budget/couponing/give-away blog and she asked if I was doing anything with this blog anymore.
And the answer is, “Not really.” And then I got to thinking what I could do with the blog. I don’t have time to paint or draw like I did over summer. I did a few things over winter break, but really, I’ve been focusing on other things recently (outside of work and studies ).
So I was thinking maybe I’ll start posting about what I *do* do in my free time, which is train and play capoeira and pretend like I’m anywhere near ready for the Tough Mudder towards the end of April. Maybe I could start a log. I used to log every mile I biked, but that was when I was commuting 8 miles a day instead of just one.
Even then, I won’t be blogging all that often. I’ll have to give it more thought.
[trigger warning - child abuse, rape] I feel no sympathy for Joe Paterno. I feel nothing for him at all. He died at 85 years old, and for the majority of his life he was at the top of the world- a hero, a saint, an icon. A rich and powerful man, in a position of power at a rich and powerful institution, that just so happened to allow countless children to be brutalized in order to maintain it’s precious reputation and the money and power that went along with it. And he was complicit in that, no matter how much pretzel logic you use to try to excuse it away. At the very least, he was a moral coward, at worst he was a knowing enabler of the torture of children. Maybe he did have regrets, and maybe he was genuinely remorseful, but whatever personal hell he dealt with in his final months doesn’t even come close to what the children who were victimized experienced, and they are still living with it every day.
But I’m one of the lucky ones. I am unlike the millions of kids who never escape from the cycle of psychological torture and self inflicted violence- the kids and adult survivors who kill themselves, either directly or indirectly. The ones who never make it out ok.
And when they die, they don’t get photo layouts, or tributes. They are faceless. They are nameless. They are forgotten.
If you are going to grieve for anyone, grieve for them. Not Joe Paterno.” —
This excellent, excellent article here. Heavy trigger warnings for deep survivor shit. But so good.
Read this, JoePa fans. Read every word. Then read it again. Memorize it. Every time you’re tempted to jump to Joe Paterno’s defense against a survivor, remind yourself of this article. Form a pavlovian response so that you do this automatically.
Proceed to never, ever say a word about Joe Paterno again.
Fuck jo pa.