Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen, Installment #6

Overlord L'Orange has put restrictions on what the public can and cannot know, so the above web sites have gone "rogue" in order to get the information out to the people.

In other news: Mexico's President Enrique Peña Nieto cancelled a meeting with Overlord L'Orange after he insisted that Mexico will pay for that stupid f*cking wall. Mexico's citizens are deeply offended. Overlord L'Orange claims that the cancellation of the meeting was mutual, but everyone knows that it was cancelled because every time he opens his big, fat mouth he sticks his foot in it.

George Orwell's book, "1984" is back on the bestseller list, flying off the shelves like hotcakes.

On a personal note, a Republican "relative" (not by blood) of mine, who is becoming more distant by the second, posted an image of a T-shirt that says: "Ask not who your country can kill for you, but who you can kill for your country." What the freaking frack?! That is just plain nutso. But he does support the Overlord, so I guess it makes sense. But still. Wacko.

Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen, Installment #5

There is rioting in the streets again today, in Washington DC and in New York City.

The people are hopping mad that Overlord L'Orange is such an asshat. He's like Darth Vader, killing everything good and decent and humane.

He's signed 'executive orders' about immigration and defunding the arts and public radio and television (NPR and PBS). Also, environmental scientists at the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) will have to get government approval on what they can and cannot show the public.

Keith Olbermann is calling him crazy and not of sound mind. Dan Rather is saying the same thing.

He is a total narcissist demagogue.

A lunatic is running the asylum.

P.S. so far three Republican family members have deleted me on Facebook, for speaking my mind. One of them (a man) blocked me (as if I would actually ever have any interest in communicating with him again). This man also kills animals for recreational purposes. Not related by blood, thankfully. Another, a distant niece, stated that she "doesn't need women marching for her rights, she can take care of herself". Good luck.

Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen, Installment #4

One of my (older) male relatives posted this today on Facebook, and the ideology behind it is as antiquated as he is.

Newsflash: it's not the 1950's anymore.

This meme is offensive on so many levels. This (older) male relative also likes to remind people of their lack of humor about his offensive posts. Sigh.

Firstly, this woman is being mocked for being angry. She's probably this guy's wife, and that is why she is so angry. Living with a misogynistic husband and son would be enough to make her angry. And everyone knows that women should never get angry! God forbid! They should always be sweet and do what their husbands want them to do, which means having a "normal" hair color, and suppressing her emotions, so he can feel more comfortable. it's all about what he wants. She and her vagina can go f*ck themselves.

Secondly, this father and son pair are clearly from the 1950's, when a woman's place was in the kitchen baking cherry pies. They are also white, and appear to be privileged. They are mocking a woman for her hair color. Not only are they mocking her, they are rudely pointing at her, which is not very dignified, as they accuse her of having no dignity. They've apparently never been to a modern day High School or a music festival, because if they had, purple hair would not be such a big freaking deal. Which hair color would be preferable to these two morons? No hair color would be preferable to them, because the father clearly has issues with women expressing themselves creatively, as well as emotionally, and he is passing this trait on to his unfortunate and hapless son. What a couple of stick-in-the-mud nincompoops.

Lastly, she is dressed as a vagina. (Who isn't?!) Even though everyone knows that vaginas are disgusting! At least that's what all the men are saying in the comment section of this meme. Gross! Who wants to see a nasty vagina out and about in the light of day, especially holding a protest sign? This man is probably repressing his own homosexuality, and in the process feels the need to put women down for being dressed as vaginas and speaking their minds. I wonder which one is most offensive to him? What a dope.

This meme was posted in an attempt to demean the Women's Marches and the millions of women who marched in them, protesting misogyny and Patriarchy, and social injustice and inequality. And of course, Overlord L'Orange.

Guess what? It didn't work. It just made you look ignorant for posting it, you old fossil.

P.S. my gloves are off now, too.

Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen, Installment #3

Poor Wifey!

Overlord L'Orange's wife looks so sad. And mad. And disgruntled. Like an angry postal worker.

There was a very telling video posted online today of Overlord L'Orange saying something to his wife as he was sworn into office. She smiled at him as he was talking to her, but when he looked away she immediately got the most dour and sour look on her face, like she was completely miserable.

Money can't buy you love, Wifey!

It can force you to smile, though, even when you don't feel like it.

I can only imagine what it must be like to lie underneath him when he is sweating and grunting and relieving himself inside of her.

What must it be like to smile when she feels like putting her fist through his face?

I would feel more sorry for her, but she should have known what she was getting into.

This morning on NPR they announced that Overlord L'Orange was installing gold drapes in the White House. He loves that gold stuff. I'm sure it makes him feel more like a king.

Wifey must love gold stuff, too. Why else would she be where she is?

Don't try and tell me it's because of love; love doesn't wear a face like that.

Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen, Installment #2

Today K.A. Conwoman, the 'Counselor' to Overlord L'Orange, stated that the Press Secretary's lies about a large turnout at the inauguration were actually "Alternative Facts".

What the f*ck is that?!

The definition of "alternative": (adjective) affording a choice of two or more things, propositions, or courses of action. Asserting two or more choices, at least one of which is true. Mutually exclusive so that if one is chosen the other must be rejected (Dictionary.com).

The definition of "fact": (noun) the quality of being actual. Something that has actual existence. A piece of information presented as having objective reality (Meriam-Webster Dictionary).

She said this with a straight face (which must have been difficult, I would think), as if the public is just supposed to accept it and believe her.

Astounding.

How stupid are the American people? Are we brain dead? The fluoride in our water really has affected our pineal glands?

How does the government get away with this kind of mind-f*ck? It's a mystery.

P.S. this was the Press Secretary's first time addressing the public. With a big, fat lie.

Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen, Installment #1

Yesterday I woke up crying...what a sad day.

I'm trying to let go of the anger I feel for the people I know who voted for Overlord L'Orange, but today it is extra difficult. I keep wondering, "How on Earth could you vote for this person?" It just stuns me. They can't possibly be getting their news from the same sources I'm getting mine. Or if they are, they're interpreting it in a completely different way, which is even more confounding.

Little Boy

Little Boy wants to push the button;
Little Boy is attracted to the redness.
Little Boy is so used to wanting;
Little Boy is so used to getting.

With no regard for the people who are 'under' him.
With no regard for the Sun and Moon and Stars and things.
With no regard for the fishes and the beastie-kins;
he wants it all, and he wants it all to answer to him.

But you're transparent; you're like a spectre.
Your soul is vacant, like Hannibal Lecter.
You're a Frankenstein Monster, stomping and groping;
you destroyed your creators, by strangulation and choking.

Little Boy has no clue as what to do now.
Little Boy is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Little Boy is so far in over his head,
Little Boy is wishing that everyone was dead.

With no regard for the people who are 'under' him.
With no regard for the Sun and Moon and Stars and things.
With no regard for the fishes and the beastie-kins;
he wants it all, and he wants it all to answer to him.

Birds versus Planes

Peel back the layers of myself and what do I hear?
Birds chirping, cars driving...birds started before the cars.
Dogs barking in the distance, and a woodpecker, bright
white golf balls being struck -- I listen for the 'swoosh' land.
Men discussing intangible things, planes overhead.
The birds sing sweetly, as motor sounds increase the day.
Coughing downstairs. The cracking of the ceiling upstairs.
Cats purring, my stomach rumbling, sun emanating,
pulsating -- that pull towards the sun, a blood orange.
The red behind my eyelids is a mask I see through:
orange ball of sun on the horizon, rising.
The sky is turning lemon colored and pink fading
from blue, lavender and red, opening the new day
like a blossoming flower, one petal unfolding
at just the right time. Birds singing. Planes stealthy flying.

What I Learned from Algebra

That I'm smarter than I thought I was.
That I am more determined than I thought I was.
That I myself am just a number.
That I may have masochistic tendencies.
That I have twenty more hours in my week than I realized, which I plan to fill with music and art and writing and the things that I love.
That failing means trying again. And again. And again.
That the third time is a charm.
That the Academic System is set up to deter artists, liberal arts majors and socialists.
That four months of Spring whiz by like greased lightning when I am calculating and pondering and figuring.
That I need to make time to see the beauty in everything, even if it seems as if there isn't enough time.
That getting lost in numbers can be mesmerizing.
That in some unfathomable way I will miss it...a very tiny bit.
That I admire my father even more, who was an electrical engineer and did math problems for fun.
That I will never be that person. And I'm okay with it.
That I wish I did this years ago, because my destiny might have been different.
That maybe I would be in the same exact place I am now regardless, according to the theory of Pi.
That I'm wondering what else I've told myself I cannot do in this life, and realizing it isn't true.
That sometimes I have to be ultra selfish with my time and energy.
That sometimes things fall through the cracks.
That I'm a tad melodramatic. And I'm okay with it.                .
That I need less sleep than I thought.
That I also need more sleep than I thought.
That naps are luxurious.
That if I suppress my creativity long enough, it will explode through my dreams.
That every day is different, but math is always the same.
That everything is math.
That nothing is math.
That sometimes cigarettes and coca-cola after midnight are necessary.
That I don't really care what x equals.
That I do actually kind of care what x equals.
That I can do anything I set my mind to, whether I'm terrified, intimidated, tired, hungry, sad or angry. That all these things are fleeting; math is constant.
That I can see how math might comfort some people.
That I can focus my attention for hours on one thing.
That I can postpone instant gratification for something that matters to me.
That spoiling myself in other ways can be an incentive.
That I actually did it.
That my future is a wide open horizon.
That I create my own destiny.
That I'm a late bloomer. And I'm okay with it.
That I'm so fucking glad it's *over*!
That compared to Algebra, everything else in my life seems like Unicorns frolicking in candy meadows.
That freedom and time never quite seemed this sweet before.

Thank you, Algebra.
Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The Yoga Ladder of Success

You've climbed The Yoga Ladder of Success, one rung at a time.
You've envisioned your photo in the corporate headquarters
Gallery of Superstars, placed alongside the ancient ones.
You bring your switch to class, tucked in the corner -- a reminder
to your students that you are the one in control; this is yours.
You rose up from the ashes, reinvented yourself: new name,
the right clothes, the right pose, the posturing, gesticulating,
judging and pointing out the flaws with that handy little switch.
Your ego is over-sized, Super-Sized, at the McDonald's
of yoga studios, a chain reaction, money-maker.
It's all about the numbers and staying on top of your game
with retreats, photo shoots, partnered sponsorships, on-line presence.
You've climbed The Yoga Ladder of Success! You have arrived, Girl!
You have assimilated the rhetoric for so long now
that you truly believe it: "Yoga has changed my life!" you spout.
And it has. And with your drive, your ambition, tenacity,
you may change the course of Yoga, one new student at a time.