Blogging out of both sides of my brain

“I’m just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.”
– The Animals (1964)

I’ve been blogging for a long time, and until very recently I did it all in one place, with an eclectic community of online friends and followers. That worked well for quite a while, but eventually my online friends started arguing with each other, and name-calling, in the comment streams of my blogs. So I mostly quit blogging.

And for a couple of years I spent the majority of my cyberlife on Facebook, enjoying the company of the people I know “in real life.” My real-life friends are also extremely diverse, and now that Facebook allows posts that are longer than one sentence, the fur has begun to fly in that cyberworld as well.

So far, I’ve kept my diverse Facebook friends from interacting with each other, by avoiding commenting on polarizing issues at all. I’ve simply internalized the conflict, and made my own self feel lousy because I realize that if I don’t keep my mouth completely shut, each group of friends of mine is gonna turn on me.

The problem is that I am in total solidarity with each of them on some points that are important to me, but in total solidarity with others of them on other points that are important to me, and I love them all, and wish that they all would love me as I am, not as they wish me to be. I mean it: I love them all. These are my real-life friends I’m talking about here. But I sure ’nuff don’t dare have a dinner party and invite the whole lot of them to interact with each other at my house! I’m afraid they’d tear my home to shreds in their anger with each other, and then they all would turn on me for loving THAT type of person.

Well, I’m tired of stifling myself. I’m a blogger, and a communicator, and I just really need SOME platform in my life where I can say what I want to say. So I’ve started blogging again. But nowadays I blog under two different names, three different email addresses, and five different blogs.  And I have turned off “Publicize” so that none of my Facebook friends will have a clue what I think about anything other than puppies and chocolate desserts.

Do any of the rest of y’all have this problem? What do you do to cope?


The War in Iraq

January 13, 2007

This is a poem I came across a few years ago, and I do not know who wrote it. I was told it was found in an anonymous WWII scrapbook that had been picked up at a White Elephant Sale. If anyone knows who wrote the poem, or if it is copyrighted, I’d appreciate hearing from you.

The poem is written from a maternal point-of-view, which point-of-view resonates with my soul.

Okay then, here’s the poem:

While I am rocking you, my son
And singing lullabies;
Someone is planning stouter planes
For Death to ride the skies.

While I am dressing you, my son,
In little boyish suits,
Someone is making uniforms
And sturdy soldier boots.

While you are chasing butterflies,
Amid the tangled grass,
Someone is testing chemicals
To make a deadlier gas.

And while you eat your simple fare,
Perhaps the war lords sit,
To start again the bugle notes
That only call the fit.

While I would build a splendid man
So fine and strong, my son,
Someone, in secret, tries to make
A farther-reaching gun —

A gun that on some distant day,
When drums of battle roll,
May leave me with a golden star
And iron in my soul.

— Author Unknown

If any of you who read this are on the “Wage Peace” bandwagon, please do not write to ask me to jump on board that wagon. War is a horrible thing, but I am not necessarily opposed to all military action. I do not know what to think about this war, I never have known what to think about this war, I don’t know if I have ever heard the truth about this war. I’ll wait and let my grandkids tell me what was really going on.