Who Profits from Child Abuse?

Re logged from Artby Robert Goldstein. We must speak for children

Art by Rob Goldstein

Flyers san Francisco
Anger is a powerful and potentially cleansing emotion.

Or it can make one feel so sick with self loathing that it expresses itself in para-suicidal behaviors.

Anger wants to know why it’s there…

Nothing in the present justifies this degree of anger.

And the truth remains too horrible to fully contemplate.

So the anger scrutinizes Second Life or Flickr, or my partner, or former co-workers, or some emotionally numb accountant that crunches numbers at an HMO for a living and who has already lost his soul to fear.

None of the above is toxic enough to incite the enraged sense of injustice that lodges in my heart as an adult survivor of childhood rape.

The rape of a child is a moral offense so grave that it corrupts everyone involved, including the child, who must distort his perceptions of reality to accommodate the attempted homicide of his soul.


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Evening Chuckle

One day an Irishman, who has been stranded on a desert island for over ten long years, sees an unusual speck on the horizon.

“It’s certainly not a ship,” he thinks to himself. As the speck gets closer and closer, he begins to rule out the possibilities of a small boat, then even a raft.

Suddenly, emerging from the surf comes a drop dead gorgeous blonde woman wearing a wet suit and scuba gear.

She approaches the stunned man and says to him, “Tell me how long has it been since you’ve had a cigarette?”

“Ten years,” replies the Irishman.

With that, she reaches over and unzips a waterproof pocket on her left sleeve and pulls out a pack of fresh cigarettes. He takes one, lights it, takes a long drag and says, “Faith and begorah! Is that good!”

“And how long has it been since you’ve had a sip of good Irish Whiskey?” she asks him.

Trembling, the castaway replies, “Ten years.”

She reaches over, unzips her right sleeve, pulls out a flask and hands it to him. He opens the flask, takes a long swig and says, “Tis absolutely fantastic!”

At this point she starts slowly unzipping the long zipper that runs down the front of her wet suit, looks at the man and asks, “And how long has it been since you’ve played around?”

With tears in his eyes, the man falls to his knees and sobs, “Oh, Sweet Jesus! Don’t tell me you’ve got golf clubs in there too.”

Dear Auntie Linda, September 9 2015

Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  My mother is seventy-four and moved in with me and my husband four years ago.  She is in good health, still drives, and is active in her church, though she is slowing down.  We enjoy having her live with us, except for the added burden when my brothers visit.  She treats our home like hers.  When I was growing up, Mother waited on my father and brothers hand and foot.  They worked outside.  Cooking and cleaning were women’s work.  I was responsible for cooking, cleaning, and dishwashing right along with her.

Please understand.  My family is and always has been welcome.  However, since Mama moved in with us, when my brothers to visit, she holds court for her guests, expecting us to lay out the welcome mat and act the gracious host on her behalf, providing huge meals, providing rooms and housekeeping services just like she always did.  I am exhausted by the time company leaves.  Mama won’t hear of anyone taking rooms at a hotel or bringing in a sandwich tray, or takeout, or taking us all out to dinner.  By the time I have shopped, cooked and served meals for several, as well as tidying up behind them, I am exhausted, not to mention the damage to our budget.  I have mentioned this to Mother, but she always reminds me , “They won’t be here but a few days.  We can rest up when they’re gone.  I just want my family around me as long as I am able……..” I would love it if they invited her to their homes for a few days sometime.  She’s often mentioned she’d love to visit.  What should I do?  Worked to Death.

Dear Worked, Your mother knows how to heave the guilt.  If you don’t want to go into this with your mother, certainly your brothers ought to be able to understand that taking care of Mother is a big responsibility.   Let them know you and your budget needs a little break. They can reserve a room and help out with meals.  They don’t have to discuss their reasons with Mother.  If she brings it up with you, don’t waffle. Bring up the subject, “Thanksgiving, let’s get together somewhere else.”  You need a break.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  My sister and I live a few blocks apart and both have three-year-olds.  We used to have coffee and visit several mornings a week, but the children fight so much now we really can’t enjoy a visit for the screaming, toy-snatching, and hitting.  If one doesn’t start it, the other does.  How in the world can you get children to play without fighting?  Sore Ears

Dear Sore Ears,  My mother had a little trick that worked wonders, for us and then my kids.   Have each of the children sit down with their favorite toy or book several feet apart.  Instruct them not to share or play with each other.  Remind them that they are not allowed to share or play together when they show interest in the other.  After you reinforce this a few times, they will want to play.  Relent, but tell them it’s only for a minute.  They’ll have to go back to their spots at the first sign of fighting.  In a few minutes, they should be anxious to play.  After being apart a few minutes, playing together becomes a privilege. Often, a reminder suffices to avoid a battle.  Hope it works as well for you.  Being separated from a potential sparring partner can help them get along, if you stick with it.  At the very least, they’ll learn to avoid fighting in front of you, which is what you really want anyway, isn’t it?

Revenge Joke

A very shy guy goes into a bar and sees a beautiful woman sitting at the bar. After an hour of gathering up his courage he finally goes over to her and asks, tentatively, “Um, would you mind if I chatted with you for a while?”
She responds by yelling, at the top of her lungs, “No, I won’t sleep with you tonight!” Everyone in the bar is now staring at them. Naturally, the guy is hopelessly and completely embarrassed and he slinks back to his table.
After a few minutes, the woman walks over to him and apologizes. She smiles at him and says, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. You see, I’m a graduate student in psychology and I’m studying how people respond to embarrassing situations.”
To which he responds, at the top of his lungs, “What do you mean $200?”

Joke of the Day

Good News Bad News
One day God came to Adam for a brief discussion. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news.” God said.

Adam looked thoughtfully at his maker and replied, “Please give me the good news first.”

Smiling, God explained, “I’ve created two new organs for you. One is called a brain. This organ will allow you to be very intelligent, create new things, and carry on productive conversations with Eve. The other organ is called a penis. It will allow you to reproduce your intelligent life form and begin populating the planet. Eve will be very pleased that you are now equipped with this organ as she will be able to conceive children.”

Adam, very excited, exclaimed, “These are great and wonderful gifts you have given me. What could possibly be bad news after such great tidings?”

God then looked upon Adam, and said with great sorrow, “The bad news is I only gave you enough blood to operate one of these organs at a time.