Archive for the ‘Jersey Girl’ Category


Save the Internet share image

Been following this story for a while now because the Internet is important to me. I rested a few days and came back to this horrid news that steps are in place by the FCC to kill Internet neutrality. I’ve provided the link below and at the end of this post, there are more links. I’ve found the energy to read and research today. I beg you do the same if the Internet means anything to you because C-H-A-N-G-E is coming. Your access to the Internet will be limited. Yes…more limitations upon us.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/05/15/fcc-net-neutrality_n_5331278.html

After much thought that began even before today, I find that I digressed when I last evolved on the blogosphere because I feared confrontation. Sometimes one must take a step backwards to go forward. Confrontation? Now I squash it. How? I won’t read it and will delete any posts I deem inappropriate. So, I will begin doing what it is I wanted to do with blogging–open eyes through my Rabbit Hole, which is here. Yes. You are in my Rabbit Hole. But, you are only in the top portion. All the juicy stuff is a bit deeper. In fact, and as you well know, the deeper you go, the juicier it gets. It is all up to you.

Yes. We all want to see only the beautiful, feel only the uplifting, but the ability to do these things for many folks is becoming more difficult due to freedoms and rights taken away. I know because I’ve seen it; I’ve experienced it and am still experiencing it. All societies, cultures, peoples are broken. We are leading the planet to destruction and our death, ultimately. That is Truth. Harsh. Absolutely. The Harsh Truth! Thus, I can no longer only post fantasy. I will do it since magic is still alive. But, we must realize that this magic is dwindling because of the poison that is spreading ever so quickly, exponentially, throughout our world. We are at a critical point as a race, species, or whatever it is we are.

I’ve always meant for this blog to reflect who I am, and who I am is far from a perfect angel and butterfly that spreads light. Yes! Absolutely, I would love to do those things, and I have proven that I have. But, I must also be aware of what is broken and spread the word in order to find those like me who will help in the fixing up of our spiraling out of control world, society–everything! We need to strengthen the magic. Let me remind you that Beauty is found in the revealing of the Ugly; Truth is found in the revealing of the Lies. To get to that Magic, we must tread through darkness. We must eliminate Fear. We must be full of energy–the energy you spend on the frivolous and unnecessary.

Although I’m not well health wise, like Rachel Carson and others like her who were ill but followed through on revealing the ugliness and the lies so that Beauty and Truth would endure, so will I do. I’m in that process of evolving again, branching out. But, I will not follow the popular crowd or the crowd that gets you to a comfy lifestyle. You see, that’s a lie that only perpetuates the myth that our world, society are okay. Too many wrongs witnessed is proof enough for me. It should be for all but fear of losing that comfy lifestyle interferes. It is understandable since I’ve been there–I lost that lifestyle. My health problem now stems from taking that road less traveled as my friend Frost would say. My life is hard. But, I can sleep soundly knowing I walk alone in my search for Beauty and Truth, in the search for myself. I do what must be done without expecting honor, awards or whatever it is the ego craves. I want none of that. I need the Beauty and Truth that lies within me in order to find the Magic. Or, better said, in order to make that Magic grow and destroy the Ugly Darkness of Lies that lead to Evil, which to me is war, any kind whether with other countries, friends, peers, or family. War is war. Fixing the state of being for the human race necessitates a move within. Has it not been written so many times by great thinkers of times past and present to know thyself? Well, to know thyself, it is necessary to go within. It’s where the magic lives and waits for us.

I’ve decided to change the content of my blog because I cannot sleep soundly knowing our kids are killing other kids, family, friends; I cannot sleep soundly knowing that something horribly wrong has happened, is happening and will continue to happen with humanity, society, our planet. If you watch the news, shit, if you just go outside, you see it. It’s everywhere, this violence. It’s what society thrives on and perpetuates–violence, punishment and death. Societies appear to have always been this way. We as a race have not humanized one ounce when it comes to war or evolving into decent human beings–I say as a “race.” As a race, we are despicable. Dress it up with different clothes, but war is still war; violence is still violence, whether passive or not. We have wars amongst countries, states, cities, families, peers, friends, animals and everything/anything that gets in our way of pleasure–war is our thing and people are quite good at it. I can’t even say we are “humans” because it is not humane to live in such a way. Hey, I’m guilty. My own family is entwined in war. Fight after fight because of “things”. I had to step aside because the poison was beginning to bubble in my veins. I couldn’t do it. It happened at work–people at war with each other, stabbing each other in the back to get where? Ahead? Ha! Heartless. I’m sick of it. I know a lot of you are. Join me in going within. Follow the White Rabbit.

We are a race that struggles to survive instead of a race that lives to flourish. Yes, Beauty and Truth still exist, but slowly, the Ugliness and the Lies allow for the killing of such Beauty and Truth. I’m speaking generalities, but I will provide specifics. You will know the White Rabbit and why she became so. Or, you may just wish to fuck off. It’s fine with me. I need followers with balls, followers who are not afraid to go within and see what they really are. Welcome to the real world. This is me cause I’m sick and tired of Ugly and the Lies, which lead to the Wars. Perhaps I have gone totally mad…ahh…that’s why I live in a hole and call myself the White Rabbit. I only come out when I have something to show or illustrate. When I first started this blog, some of you may recall, I was passionate about revealing the ugly and the lies. It was after the ghastly shootings at an elementary school that I stood back, shocked that some fuck head would actually dare tell me that what I meant by my post pertaining to the shooting was that the kids deserved what they got. Imagine. It hurt me. I almost deactivated the blog. But, I did not. Instead, I rode out my severe depression–a depression that arose because I allowed some thoughtless jerk to kill my magic. I was afraid of such confrontation again so decided to post my photographs, a hobby that also illustrates my love for landscapes and the magical. I continued posting quotes from my favorites. In short, I got up again. This occurred in December of 2012, if my memory serves me correctly. It is time to evolve again. And, this time, I’m not going to be nice, and I give two shits about what anyone thinks. Come shoot me and do me a favor.

Generally, I’m kind-hearted and nice to the point of naïvete. I will continue to be so, but with my new acquired passion to help people go within, to face the ego and go beyond it to where the true self waits to pour the magic of fairies all over you. Your eyes will see in a way you never thought you could. But, I warn you. Hope you will not find there. Magic? Yes. But, along with the Magic, like in any fairytale, lurks the evil. Evil wants to rule. Hope will not save us but Magic will. And, you will know Magic when you walk side by side with the White Rabbit who walks alone now, trying to go through that needle’s eye. Join me.

Enough said for now. I need to jump into my rabbit hole. You’ve followed me so far…are you willing to continue? You and I may not be able to in the future if the Internet goes bye-bye. Think about that. Blessed be and we will Merry Meet again. 😉

Kiss the Internet Goodbye?

If you go to the bottom of this post, you will find the links to the Huffington and the Washington Post for your review. This will affect all of us, especially those strapped for cash. The following link is from Reuters

Breaking news: The FCC just took the first step toward killing Net Neutrality, by moving ahead with a plan to divide the Internet into a fast lane for the 1% and a slow lane for the rest of us.1  

But we can still win the fight for an open Internet. MoveOn members and allies have already succeeded in getting a real solution on the table: to reclassify the Internet as a public utility like drinking water—making it equally accessible to all.2 For the next 60 days the FCC will take public comments on the proposal. We have 60 days to win by doubling down on our campaign now. 

Can you chip in $3 today to ramp up our campaign to save the Internet?

As FCC Commissioner Mignon Clyburn said, “the real call to action begins after the vote today. This is your opportunity to formally make your points on the record. You have the ear of the entire FCC.”3

And we’re doing just that. MoveOn members are literally in the streets at 19 local FCC offices across the country right now—sending shockwaves through the FCC bureaucracy.

But to keep this campaign going for the next 60 days, we need to raise $150,000 to launch the next phase.

With the support of MoveOn members, we will:

  • Drive phone calls to the White House so that President Obama has to hold FCC Chairman Tom Wheeler accountable for his promise to protect Net Neutrality—building on the thousands of calls members have already made

 

  • Launch a new round of ads to raise awareness of what’s at stake and continue to pressure President Obama and Chairman Wheeler

 

  • Deliver thousands of public comments to the FCC in support of the real solution—treating the Internet as a public utility 

 

  • Continue to amplify the more than 10,000 personal stories from MoveOn members who would be hurt if the FCC adopts this plan 

We know that corporations like Verizon and Comcast aren’t going to sit this out. They will be deploying their lobbyists and putting their money behind killing Net Neutrality. But we have already proven that MoveOn members can fight back, if we do it together. 

We’ve come this far—can you chip in $3 to keep fighting for a free and open Internet? 

Yes, I can contribute $3.

Together we’ll make sure the FCC feels enough sustained public pressure that there is no way they can kill Net Neutrality.

Thanks for all you do.

–Maria, Manny, Joan, Garlin, and the rest of the team

Sources:

1. “FCC approves plan to consider paid priority on Internet,” The Washington Post, May 15, 2014
http://www.moveon.org/r/?r=298318&id=95788-19568648-Tqw5s9x&t=4

2. Ibid.

3. “FCC Votes For Plan To Kill Net Neutrality,” Huffington Post, May 15, 2014
http://www.moveon.org/r/?r=298323&id=95788-19568648-Tqw5s9x&t=5

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cover picture content_4484309_DIGITAL_BOOK_THUMBNAIL

Available now! Below is the link for the U.S.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I3151LG

Also available in:

IN UK DE FR ES IT JP BR CA MX AU

See book in Kindle Store


cover picture content_4484309_DIGITAL_BOOK_THUMBNAIL

Finally, after four months, the book is available on Kindle!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I3151LG

Printed version will be available on Amazon sometime in the future–will keep you posted.

Excerpts appear at  http://takingexit13.wordpress.com


Juana la Cubana-Americana Jersey Girl Trash Rated R-Over 18 Only, Please..


Little Orphaned Juanita.

http://takingexit13.wordpress.com/2013/12/23/little-orphaned-juanita/


Worms and Wuajiros Are We.


Excerpt from Taking Exit 13

Santeria Madness.


shimmer

Somos Americanos!” My parents were so proud to boast this–that we were Americans–all the freakin’ time. “We are in America; we are Americans. We will behave like Americans!” Father’s heavily accented English roared. The only thing was that his version of behaving like an American and my version of behaving like an American were very different. Sure, we were Americans, but what my parents did not understand was that there were different versions of Americans–economic class levels–just as there were different versions of Cubans. Their vision of American was the elite kind, those who dined and wined refined. Not me! My version of behaving like an American meant behaving like the kids at school whom I thought were cool. To me, they were truly free–free from following anyone’s rules.

These American kids I grew up with were impulsively divine to me. They were loud, pushy, violent kids who were labeled white-trash since they were poor and lived in projects. They were also very real and interesting, already drinking, drugging and sexing as teens; they did what they wanted–said what they wanted. They were young and did not have to take a chaperone with them to go to the corner store. So different from me who had to take abuelita with her even to walk three blocks to school! It was freakin’ embarrassing, walking a mile ahead of abuelita to make it seem like we weren’t together, me wanting to disappear into the sidewalk. So limited and unlike them was I–them kids, which to me were like American apple pie. I wanted to be like them–they were the true America, in my eyes.

Since my Cuban identity had been watered down to almost nothing due to my parent’s insistence on becoming American, the transition from Cuban to Cuban-American to a white trash Jersey Girl was exceptionally smooth. Forgotten, Cuba became a foreign country, and I a stranger to its culture. All Cuban connections were cut and new American connections made. Without formal inquiries and networking when it pertained to Cuba, I lost a cultural identity with its rich traditions–the Cuban culture, became a culture as alien to me as any other.

My transition into Jersey Girl trash-hood began when I started sixth grade at Theodore Roosevelt Elementary and Junior High School on Bayway Avenue in Elizabeth, New Jersey. School demographics varied but the majority of the students at that time in the 1970’s were Americans. Most of these American peers were poor; most lived off welfare due to unfortunate circumstances that caused the spirit of motivation and the American Dream to dissipate for them–the reason lost in time just as mine will be also.

To fill the emptiness of a dream no more, these poor Americans used alcohol and drugs combined with sex and music as a means to endure the succession of endless days. Most of my classmates had parents who fell under this definition of the poor American class in the land of the free. America’s poor whites, I witnessed, lacked drive to do better–so much like me now. Most were great, great grandchildren of European immigrants from English, Irish or Polish descent. Some didn’t even know their heritage or cultural identity anymore, like my situation, only I was a victim of first generation watered-down-culture syndrome.

These poor white Americans lived in reduced-rent housing units called projects and spent their days doing things that further dug them into the poverty they found themselves in. Crime rate was high within the parameters of the projects, including neighborhoods that bordered the place. Seldom did I step into the projects unless it was with a well-known acquaintance that lived there, which happened on a few occasions–and I always was crapping bricks while inside.

In Elizabeth, there were two different types of projects. The one down the port by First Street were mostly for Puerto Rican and African Americans, and the other was by the Bayway Circle across the street from Roosevelt Elementary and Junior High where I attended school–and close to my home on Grier. Most of my peers lived in these projects by my school, which housed mostly white Americans,and elderly people living on a fixed income.

The first time I heard someone mention the term white trash was at Roosevelt Junior High School when some Italian kid named Fabio called one of his poor white friend white trash. Willy, the white trash, had actually called Fabio a guinea, which was a derogatory name for Italians. When Fabio saw me staring, he looked at me with pissed off eyes and blurted out, “What spic? What the fuck are you looking at? Want some of this?” He had grabbed his private parts while saying that, motioning up and down as he grabbed everything in that area–pig! Willy had laughed. My middle finger had flashed them with hatred that also spewed from my eyes. Spic was the derogatory name if you were Spanish or Latina/o or Hispanic–whatever it is we are called–still can’t get it right. But, I digress.

Fabio and Willy frightened me, but not enough to keep me from mouthing off, “You are both freakin’ ass-holes! Besides, what the heck is a spic? It makes no sense.” My face screamed, “I hate you both, creeps!” Fabio and Willy had laughed at me as they had walked away.  Most of the kids at school were terrified whenever these two came into view. I didn’t give a crap since my rebellious nature continued to grow, and I rebelled even against the rebels themselves. That’s why I was this type of American–I fit in with them for some reason. They triggered the revolutionary within me to come out!

These two major rebels now walked toward me slowly, glints of amazement in their dark eyes as they pondered at my giant cojones–giant testicles. “You are a spic because you lick our floors clean with Spic and Span.” They said this slowly, each with a smirk on their face and a mocking tone, eager to see my new reaction.

“Really? What a fucking laugh.” I tried to sound tough. Coolly, I slowly turned to my locker and began working the lock, ignoring both of them.

“You got balls, spic!” They both yelled in sync. “You ain’t scared of us, are you?”

“Why should I be scared of you? Get lost. I’m going to be late for class.” At the corner of my eye, I saw them look at each other and smile, nodding their head from side to side–whatever that meant.

Sounding relaxed and kind of flirty, they said, “Will talk to you later, girly. We wanna’ know you.” They looked at me seriously, and I returned the same stare right back at them. Nothing more was said as we all headed to our classes. It wasn’t until after lunchtime that they approached me, in the courtyard.

Excerpt from the book, Taking Exit 13….