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Okay so I promised I’d get back to this, so here we go…

Westmont Elementary and the move to Oz (So Cal.) I believe were the real catalysts, or perhaps my first steps onto the plank over the sea of dysfunction…oh it is to etc.

And I often wonder what I would have been like had we stayed in Vikington, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss…

And before we get to far into it I want to reiterate my earlier statement that I present these facts, this history for informative purposes only, (again and as always mostly fer my children)’cause it’s gonna kinda get sobby real soon and I don’t want you all feelin’ sad this is suppose to be a funny blog.

I mean, I laugh at it so why can’t you?

Wait who am I…why I’m the Dysfunctional Unit, and cats n kittens trust me I laugh at it all. I really do.

And I laugh at that fat overly sensitive little kid I was.

So awkward and clueless…oh it is to laugh

Slinking away from the hottest cheer leader Sharon Eckles after she slapped me in the face for daring to ask her to dance.

C’mon if it was in a coming of age movie it’d be funny.

The most unpopular kid in school asks the (soon to be) home coming queen to dance

Or stealing money from home to pay off one of the school tuff’s Dave Carney or to hire the big McGinnis kid to protect me from Dave and his friends, only to have him walk away at the worst moment.

Sneaking from class to class.

But, you’d think to yourself, at least there was home, home would be a refuge.

You would be wrong however my , and this is Article 2.

Ya’ see the Unit’s whole family had been thrown in to turmoil by the move, worst of all, the Mom, and (what’s the expression ipso facto?) the mommy’s boy…

Oh quick aside, I was a pussy when I was a boy, a softie, Marshmallow was the pet name my mom called me, that is when she wasn’t utilizing her other favorite Good for Nothing. L & his fabulous o l boys, as you kids say.

The thing is of course that she was right, that kid was to soft too survive, a dreamer, a pansy, a….okay you get the point…and I said I’d be quick

All right where were we…oh yea the house.

For the first few months after moving to Oz, our Mom (who had been the controlling factor in our family up to this point) stayed mostly confined to her room sleeping and crying (don’t feel to bad at this point, it gets much worse when she finally comes out).

It is however the beginning of our family spinning apart.

Imagine if you will the family as a galaxy, with the main parent being the big star, the rest of the family is of course kept in a nice stable orbit by it’s gravitational influence.

When that star goes through massive changes, so do it’s accompanying bodies.

My dad, was distant, often gone out of the country on business.

My big brother “El Revolutio” had already been heading off the road tagging himself onto the tail end of the hippies.

My sister found Jesus. God bless her.

My little brother, (who would also  turn his life over to Jesus, eventually become a Minister and now often does Missionary work abroad) blonde and skinny through some strange genetic quirk, fit in to this new environment. God bless his soul.

(They both have wonderful families and are great human beings)

And though my bro and I were two grades apart and attended Westmont together, his experience was much different than mine.

He not only tried to avoid being forced to back-up his fat and wildly unpopular super nerd of an older brother, but if push came to shove would join in the mockery.

Please believe that I understand and hold no grudges.

It was what it was, and is what it is, as it were (what?). He was only protecting himself.

It was a difficult time for us all, and we never really recovered.

So my mom…yea…I’ve thought a lot about what to put in here because it matters, I mean not anymore emotionally (much [or often]) but to understanding the dysfunction. But first, I guess I just don’t know you bastards well enough to discuss it all, secondly I really have moved past it..so we will acknowledge that our relationship became increasingly…complex.

It’s enough to know that she spent the first few months in their (parents) bedroom and when she came out things got much worse.

So if my life outside of the house was plagued by attackers and ridiculers, my home life was becoming the same.

And in many ways looking back, it’s hard to blame them.

Because of all these pressures at school and at home my behaviors were becoming increasingly odd.*

*some time after writing this post I recieved a big blow (accidentally self inflicted see here)…among the odd after effects was the blossoming awareness of other concussions I had suffered including two major ones during these first years in So Cal and now this additional knowledge makes not only changes to behavior understandable but plausible, and as well, calls into question much of my interpretation of my memories during the 11-14 range.

I spent a lot of time alone and in hind sight I can see how I was, in many ways, well on my way to becoming either an a: serial killer or b: one of those kids who goes to school with a gun and bombs strapped to his chest…yer laughin and it is funny…in hind site.

And added with the fact that I didn’t eventually become one of those aforementioned things.

It wouldn’t be as funny if I were some old dude writin this from prison.

I became a weirdo homeless, arti…oh wait that’s all fer a later post…

Anyway, the first time I ran away I was thirteen, which is I think about a year and a half or so after we got to Oz.

It all gets very fuzzy through these years for me so if I make any time line mistakes it is not through subterfuge but dysfunction so please forgive me.

I was in and out of the house for increasingly long periods over the next couple years like a ship that has come loose from it’s mooring slowly drifting away.

By the time I was 17 I was on the streets for good.

All right so we have a separation from peers in article 1, a separation from of family in article 2, and the foundation is almost set.

All we needs is a burgeoning culture which promotes and glorifies such separation and throws in the massive use of mind altering substance use to boot.

But that’s for article 3

Well okay, I mean all right so hello again. Little Mouse was worried bout my blood pressure after reading the last post. She said she can always tell how my days gone by how many f bombs I drop in my posts. She keeps after me to be a kinder gentler unit but the weather outside just started turning nasty, God bless America, I think that means that we’re (or more precisely you re: my crankiness) are pretty much screwed until March.

Anyway it put me in kind of funk this morning right off the bat and I realized the last thing I wanna go do is blog some long diatriblical rant about any of my usual topics this.

Which left me of course with the dilemma of what I was going to write about…? I should just post one of the back-ups I have ready, I know I still have to continue the Declaration of Dysfunction with Articles #2-#5 but…(well maybe I’ll post #2 later tonight) I kind’a wanted to do something fun.

See the things is I know I believe I am right, but you have to believe that I know that doesn’t mean I’m right.

Did ya follow that sentence? See I also know I am dysfunctional, so though I believe I am right about what I write about, I may just as easily…well…be wrong…see? Ya get it?

My main goal here is to discuss those things that are (that we accept as a society) our new truths (oh and even some old ones what the hell) that make my little dog chase it’s tail round and round.

Like say, the environmental or “green” movement. At it’s foundations the theories and ideology are hard to argue with. On the surface, if you don’t think too deeply about any of their claims the movement seems sound and genuine.

Until the little dog starts twirling. And here is why.

The statement goes like this: Because human beings have been, through their behaviors such as over use of resources,  disregard of chemical refuse, etc, extremely harmful to the planet and all life on it.

The environmental movement wants to help guide people gently (or through out lying and force…oh wait that’s my words  not theirs) to learn to modify said behaviors toward a more people/planet harmonious lifestyle there by assuring the planets continued existence.

If we don’t modify, we are told, the earth is doomed.

Have I got that right?  I wanna make sure. If I have spoken (typed) somewhere in error please some one correct me.

But I do believe that I have it pretty spot on, remember I use to be a “real” environmentalist myself…or was I?

Once in awhile, when a dog chases it’s tail long enough it catches it and here’s what happened when mine caught it’s tail.

I realized I wasn’t, that we (most in the movement) weren’t environmentalists at all but humanists.

The Earth is going to be fine and it is the height of arrogance to suggest that we, meaning humans could destroy it.

So the truth is then that we want to take care of the planet so that people continue to survive. (the theory that the entire human race would become extinct is also highly suspect).

That makes me a humanists.

Now if I’m a true environmentalist, a green guy for the planet then really I should be encouraging people, companies, countries to continue pollute. Bring on the fossil fuels and lets start clear cuttin’ some forests baby.

Then the earth will solve it’s own problems by wiping most of humanity out in some grand balancing act.

See okay well maybe I’m wrong like I said above, I’m no scientist or professor lol, but I think I can say that we, as a race will be hard pressed to destory this planet; this f-ing giant ball of rock floating in space.

At best we may put ‘er on her heals for awhile but the big ol’ girl would bounce back bigger and better than ever.

Can you tell me that I’m wrong…I mean really comment or e me if you think I’ve missed it.

But before you do and say something like…”So what if environmentalists want us to be good to the earth for people, that sounds like a good idea”. You’ve missed the point, I don’t care, I just don’t want you to call yourselves environmentalists, or “green” any more.. Call yourself what you are, that’s all I’m saying, call yourself a humanist and be proud of it.

I have this exact problem with many Christians today, oh and speaking of…

Jesus I’m already way over my word per post limit (self imposed, though there must be eventually some digital limit lol), and I know I said I would only talk about God related stuff on Sunday but I mean I’m on a roll and these questions end up being kind’a related, at least to my little dog.

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