Clareified

Where does the good go

Archive for April, 2013

Tuesday Tunes

Tuesday, April 9th, 2013 by Dawn Summers

Tell me why
Why won’t you love me
For who I am
Where I am
He said:
‘Cause that’s not the way the world is baby
This is how I love you, baby
This is how I love you, baby

Snitches get stitches and other cool phrases that rhyme

Friday, April 5th, 2013 by Dawn Summers

I read this story on twitter the other day.

Basically, it’s about an almost fifty-year-old father of a bunch of children, with a house and a job, deciding to sell some old pain pills to this guy he met who was in pain but didn’t have insurance. Can you already see where I’m going with this? Turns out his “friend” was a narc working with the cops to get his sentence reduced by catching some other bad drug dealer types. The man agreed to plead guilty in exchange for a sentence reduction if he, too, could catch some other bad dealer types. He was not as lucky as his “friend,” and couldn’t find any suckers to sell him drugs, so he got the whole 25 years. In the article, they also tell the story of a 23 year old college graduate who was caught with weed and in exchange for less time, agreed to wear a wire for a pot buy and gun deal. The cops lost track of her during the deal, the buyers found the wire and murdered her with the gun she was there to buy. Her father is now an evangelist about the rights of “informants.”

One commenter suggested that the girl in the story got what she deserved — stitches get snitches and all; the author of the story seems to think the man in the story was entrapped. Hmm.

The woman who posted the story was appalled because this guy gets 25 years, while the Steubenville rapists only get a couple of years!

Oh, how I loathe false equivalencies. Those rapists are children, this dude was a FIFTY YEAR OLD MAN SELLING DRUGS! DUUUUDDDDEEEE!

Oh…back to the point. I think minimum sentences are dumb. However, the politicians who run for office touting them are brilliant, you know why? Because everyone loves to hear that the drug dealers will be off their streets FOREVER! This particular false equivalency girl would likely vote TWICE for the guy who campaigns on and all rapists will be imprisoned FOR LIFE!

Justice, true justice, where the punishment fits the crime and no stone is left unturned until the truth wins out… is expensive and time consuming. It should be our goal, for sure, but it’s not. Our goal is now something like “unintrusive safety.” I’m not a betting woman (shut up), but if I were, I’d guess the families involved in that Florida story all voted for the politicians who touted the policies that eventually swallowed their family members. I’d venture to guess they thought it would sweep away “crime” and “criminals.” And hey, they were right. Now, they just want the definition of “criminals” to not include selling drugs one time or posessing drugs one time. That’s not how it works.

As for the “snitchers” themselves? They were willing to ensnare other unsuspecting would-be drug dealers in the same trap that got them. I’m no “snitches get stitches” proponent, but I am into “do unto others as yadada.” YOU sold DRUGS to A STRANGER. DUMBASS. Plead guilty, do your dumbass time. Plead not guilty, hope for the best. Run. YOU DON’T FREAKING TRY TO SET SOMEONE ELSE UP. That’s where my already low level of sympathy for you plummets to zero and turns to contempt.

YOU were busted with pot. SUCK IT UP. Do your time, you’re only 23. No, you’re now a crime fighter who wants to bust up gun deals? FOH.

I guess it’s hard for me to say what I would do if I caught a case and they gave me an out — but from here, the safety of the saddle on my high horse, I would hope that I’d have the stones to burn off my fingerprints, dye my hair and enjoy my new life as Lupe Diaz with grace and dignity.

Have a good weekend!

Friday, April 5th, 2013 by Dawn Summers

Poetry Wednesday

Wednesday, April 3rd, 2013 by Dawn Summers

Clareified’s persons of the year, Vero and Notorious L.I.G., came into town last week. We went out for “Mexican” (the restaurant had a matzo menu posted on the front door for Passover…so, I remain skeptical.) Afterward, we went to see the play “Ann” at Lincoln Center.

It was a terrific tribute to Ann Richards, the one-time Governor of Texas. I’ve long blamed her for Al Gore’s loss, but the play was funny, witty and touching, so all is forgiven.

I say so a lot. So?

Anyway, the play ends with a poem she told her secretary to save for “a funeral someday. I had no idea it would be my *own*” she says in her signature Texas drawl.

The lines:

Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

stayed with me. Hours, days, weeks… they vibrated through my head. That, we still are.

Yesterday would have been Vella’s 38th birthday and, for the first time this year, I went to visit his grave.

I find it easily now. Someone before me had planted some flowers at the edge of his stone, but otherwise, the site remains unchanged.

Our 20th high school reunion is in a few weeks and I can’t help but imagine that we would be talking by now. Every day facebook alerts me of my classmates’ giddy plans. Happy Hour! Picture taking! Tours! After party!

“WE GOT INVITED TO A CHRIS FIQEN PARTY!!! WE’VE MADE IT, VELL!!!”

It’s cold. I stuff my hands in my pockets.

Drinks with the popular kids… that couldn’t be further away from my high school experience if they’d sent out an update changing the venue to the moon.

I would go if it were on the moon though. Seeing the moon would be cool.

Happy Birthday…sorta.

I concede. I’m older than you now. You found a loophole. Bastard.

Whatever we were to each other…

I’m surprised how empty the cemetary is. I passed a car driving in, but other than that, I haven’t seen anyone else.

I am alone.

…That, we still are.

I can’t think of anything else to say. So, I say goodbye.

Death is Nothing at All
Henry Scott Holland
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

April movie reviews

Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013 by Dawn Summers

I was going to send Julius Goat a tweet yesterday containing my usual foot tapping, so he would think I had my April movie review post done. BUT THEN, nothing would be there because it WASN’T done! And then I would say “April Fool’s” and laugh and laugh. But then I got distracted with Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, the Mets and the Rangers and next thing you know, it’s April 2nd and the post actually IS done, so… (and this is why Dawn Summers can’t get nowhere as a prankster.)

Anyhoo…this see what we have here…

Lincoln
BBBOOORRRRRRIIIIINNNNNNGGGG. I don’t know why this movie isn’t called “The Thirteenth Amendment.” Because that’s all it’s about. It’s not about Abraham Lincoln – not about his childhood or his marriage or his children or even his presidency, really – it’s about the twelve months preceding the ratification of the thirteenth amendment. Sadly, even though Spielberg chooses this narrow sliver of a political moment, he still mostly gets it wrong and manages to whitewash all black involvement out of it, save the occasional sad eyes of his wife’s black maid or Senator Stevens’ black lover who is unveiled in the last scene. Eye roll. Joe Morton could totes have played Frederick Douglass! I deeply and sincerely hate Hollywood sometimes. Anyway, bah. This movie is dumb and boring. And I have no idea why any of these people were nominated for anything.

Miss Dial
This movie is a cute little romantic comedy about a work from home customer service representative who decides to robo call random strangers during the day. There’s a surprise ending that I didn’t see coming.

The Brother from Another Planet
This movie was weird. It’s about an alien who takes the form of a black man and lands in Harlem. He is being chased by other aliens, but it’s not really made clear in the movie why or who they are. The movie chiefly runs on the premise – hey, he’s an alien, but he’s a black guy! Get it? Cause America kinda treats black guys like *they’re* aliens… eh… eh… GET IT??! Some of it works, some of it doesn’t.

A Separation
This movie was great. Oh, I meant to google this before I wrote the racist-ish sentence I’m about to write, but… uh… hi, I’m super lazy. Racist sentence coming in 3…2… so this movie is about people in Iran or Iraq or somewhere in that region of the world (hangs head in shame) the woman wants to come to America, the husband doesn’t want to because he has to care for his senile father. The woman files for divorce hoping the husband will change his mind rather than get divorced. He doesn’t and then he has to hire a woman worker to do the housekeeping/caretaking. Some stuff happens and the police are called. And then it gets sad. There is a preteen daughter involved. Sniff sniff.


Read the rest

Lawmaker seeks to tie welfare benefits to grades

Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013 by Dawn Summers

This story came out yesterday, so naturally, I was skeptical. But, after reading hours of tweets about lazy baby making neer do wells on the twitters, I have concluded the story is real.

And now I just have questions. Questions like, why didn’t Stacey Campfield’s parents hug him more when he was a baby? How damaging is it exactly to give a boy a girl’s name? All these years, I just thought that Johnny Cash song was funny.

Tuesday Tunes

Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013 by Dawn Summers