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The Target

December 21, 2008
I don’t know how to process my thoughts and to say my opinions aloud, something I need to do for the way I am wired, it is how my brain works, it is how I reconcile intuitive thoughts with deductive conclusions, without making you, Y-O-U feel as if I am talking about you. I don’t know how to process my thoughts and to say my opinions aloud without convincing you, Y-O-U, that I am not including you in what seems a condemnation and that I am very capable of, and most often always do, in fact, exclude, you, Y-O-U, because I think that because you, Y-O-U are reading me and the people I associate with, then you, Y-O-U are not part of the problem-people that I am thinking about and processing my opinions about when I write aloud the things that make you, Y-O-U feel judged by me.

On the other hand, I know, realise, and am extremely unapologetic if while I am processing my thoughts and attempting to reconcile my intuition with deduction that you are hit because what I say may in fact include you, Y-O-U, simply because it does include you, Y-O-U, without my intentional hand in the design. If you were hit, more than likely you were hit because you are the target and whether I meant to make you the target or not is irrelevant because there are times that you are the target simply because you have the red and white rings with the little black dot drawn on your person and there is nothing I can do whatsoever to change that fact. When you are the target by intent or not, remaining the target or removing that target from your person is your responsibility alone, not mine. There is nothing special about you. There is no reason you deserve to have your target removed by others while everyone else is left alone to remove their own targets. There is no reason why people should shoot and aim specifically so that you will not be hit, while they are not excluded from the raining down of willy-nilly shot arrows.

Because it is not as if I (or anyone else) am an entity free from red, white, and black target paint and free from arrows hitting my bull’s-eye. It is not as if I am not constantly employing my efforts trying to extract and further prevent being targeted and hit. If I waited until someone came along with some paint remover and for others to stop shooting (intentionally or not) at me, the arrows would already be granulating into my flesh forming indelible wounds.

5 Comments
  1. Walt permalink
    December 22, 2008 10:16 am

    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
    Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
    And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
    No more; and by a sleep to say we end
    The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
    To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
    For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
    When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
    Must give us pause: there’s the respect
    That makes calamity of so long life;
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
    The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
    The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
    The insolence of office and the spurns
    That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
    But that the dread of something after death,
    The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
    No traveller returns, puzzles the will
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than fly to others that we know not of?
    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
    And thus the native hue of resolution
    Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
    And enterprises of great pith and moment
    With this regard their currents turn awry,
    And lose the name of action. – Soft you now!
    The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
    Be all my sins remember’d

    I have to deal with my brothers autism everyday. He has no one but me to look after him. There are times when I must be willing to become a target, in order to be more therapeutic to others, and in this way, help them heal the bloody wounds that life has given them.

  2. The Fabulous Kitty Glendower permalink
    December 22, 2008 6:36 pm

    That about says it. We all have our row to hoe. But for some reason folks always try to pull the old Tom Sawyer trick.

    LOL! How do you like that mixing?

  3. MargaretJamison permalink
    December 22, 2008 7:44 pm

    Great post, Kitty.

    This:
    ***When you are the target by intent or not, remaining the target or removing that target from your person is your responsibility alone, not mine.***

    YES. Instead of whining about how terrible it is that I’ve criticized groups x, y, and z and you consider yourself a member of all three groups, why not re-think your membership in groups x, y, and z. Because if you were – voluntarily, of course – to relinquish your membership in the group, then I could still make my critique but without implicating you. People so over-identify with their little groups and cliques though that simply not being a part of the group, by deed or default, just never seems to be an option.

  4. The Fabulous Kitty Glendower permalink
    December 22, 2008 9:36 pm

    Stop targeting me Margie! Your comment was meant for me and I know it.

  5. The Fabulous Kitty Glendower permalink
    December 22, 2008 9:51 pm

    Seriously though, speaking of being part of a group. And perhaps a red herring (or non sequitur), though not intentional, but it is the way I unfold my thoughts, I have been thinking about how people who complain about Christmas typically have a story about how the family got together and decided on no gifts or one gift or only gifts for the children or what have you. After I smear all the privilege whining out of the way, like the way I scrap away the ice stuck on my car windshield with any little object I can find in the car, the other day it was my daughter’s toy magnetic A-B-C chalkboard like board (it did not work that well, I must tell you), I try really hard to empathise with their complaint, with no success. Because I am left to wonder about this pressure that for some reason I don’t feel. I either buy people a present because i want to, or I don’t. Maybe when I was younger I felt bad about not getting people a present when I wanted to and I was broke, or not having a present in exchange, etc, but then I grew up. Now I see buying presents when I don’t want to like the pseudo-pressure brides and/or family of the bride puts on the bride for a wedding. Why pay, and you do have to pay additional, for additional guests to attend when you don t’ particular care for that person. I think if I was planning a wedding (the likelihood of that is zero, since I think it is an horrendous waste of money) I would ask myself, is this person that I don’t particularly care for worth the additional $60 that I will have to come up with? I think just having to ask myself that answers the question. Anyway, back to the presents. What happens if a member of this group decides to buy someone else a present? Did he or she just break the rules of the group? What happens when that member breaks the rules of the group? What is the cost of remaining a member of said group? What are the benefits? Then my first visceral reaction is, the behaviour is so middle-class, or is it so white, or is it something else when it happens cross racial lines, cross class lines, cross financial capability lines, then I think how it is imperialist, which goes back to being whiteness, then I think how I deplore making little pacts when if we were to all live consciously and conscientiously or even attempt just a little to live consciously and conscientiously no such pact would be necessary.

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