Shaved Legs and All: LGBT Pogrom

The Great Die Off - By Mizeta Moon 

I was homeless for years. Slept on the sidewalk, ate from the garbage, cashed in cans to pay for showers, and to wash the few clothes and bedding I owned. This was not by choice but circumstance as I was injured from working seven days a week to survive in SoCal and could barely lift my arms. No agency cared. No one had room for me on their couch or money to feed me. During that time, I traveled alone and refused to become one of the lost. When I stood in line for a free meal I said please and thank you and avoided becoming buddies with those who were there by choice. I was assaulted several times for being a stuck-up snob who didn’t belong to the community of parasites. I kept myself clean, never begged for spare change and avoided criminal behavior. You could often find me sitting in the sun reading a book gleaned from someone’s recycling bin. While waiting for my body to heal I never surrendered my dignity. 

As soon as I was able to resume working, I did so and applied myself diligently to every given task. I pulled myself up by my own bootstraps and a series of fortunate encounters with people who saw my struggle and cared. When the age for retirement arrived, I fell short of the threshold for Social Security benefits and continued working until I’d paid in enough of my earnings to qualify for a meager stipend. These days that check barely pays my rent so I’ve been forced to rely on the Food Stamps program to put food in my mouth. Yes, I could work, but would be penalized for doing so. The greatest advantage I’ve gained by being dirt poor is free access to health care. Without it, my aging process would be an exercise in suffering and pain. 

Now that this administration seeks to disassemble Social Security, deny universal health care, and roll back food programs for the elderly, I and millions of others are being scheduled for the great die off. Evicted from our homes, unable to access medication, and unlike myself, lacking skills to weather life’s storms, the streets will be littered with corpses of people who toiled for years to earn their late life comfort. 

These days patriotism is equated with military service where one goes and kills for their country. What if true patriotism is standing firm at one’s job despite all obstacles? Caring enough to go without sleep to restore power so babies don’t die from freezing temperatures and many other heroic acts. What if the true patriots paid into a system that is now being pillaged by uncaring robber barons who sneer at cries for equality? We’ve been manipulated to bare our fangs to anyone unlike us while our rights and freedoms are stripped away. If asked, most people couldn’t give a good reason for hating others. Their litany has been injected by outside forces and defies logic. 

I probably won’t survive the streets this time due to my need for medications and age but will give it my best effort. No act of tyranny will silence my defiant howl nor break my spirit. Should I die in the gutter, my will to live shall remain unbroken. Meanwhile, I hope for a return to sanity and some semblance of humanism but am prepared to face the fact of an uncaring society. As always, I wish you peace and prosperity. Mizeta        

 

Not Interested - By Mizeta Moon 

I refuse to kneel to any invisible god when those who represent them preach suffering, pain, prejudice and xenophobia. 

I will not worship greed, nor money. 

Instead, I will follow my heart and tread my own path into the unknown. 

I refute anyone’s right to rule my actions and feelings when their orders require blind obedience. 

I choose to see the wonder of it all with my own eyes rather than be led as if blind. 

To have a society requires cooperation, but for me the laws must be just and apply to all. I refuse to cooperate when branded unworthy of freedom and equality by anyone desirous of enslaving my mind. There will always be different viewpoints and philosophies, yin and yang, but I never ignore the merge point where extremes come together and create harmony and balance. A center where the greatest variety can exist. Practical rules and guidelines can be applied there despite constant pressure from extremism. 

Never ask me to enlist in the armies of hatred. My soul is geared to love. 

Never ask me to kill someone for you who’s done me no harm. I can only imagine the pain of loved ones from their loss. Never expect me to quit caring about casualties of incessant war as I question the desire to profit from misery. 

Flaying skin from bone because we are different will never be my agenda. If it’s yours, I can only hope to remain beyond reach. I was born into this world. How can anyone say I don’t belong?    

Pertinent Questions - By Mizeta Moon 

To say these are both interesting and perilous times would be an understatement, so I won’t waste time before stating the obvious. We’re under permanent arrest. Everywhere you go from now on there’ll be a sign directing you how to behave in that environment. Entering some of them will be so strenuous they’ll border on paranoiac frenzy and test your willingness to comply. Others will be more inviting, but whoever controls them will still be watching you like a hawk. Our appliances spy on us already, so inviting more monitoring devices into our homes only strengthens outside control of our lives. Every interaction we have with a debit or credit card is recorded, thus we’re signed, sealed and delivered. Big Brother is perched on every shoulder because we surrendered our right to privacy a long time ago in order to belong and make a living. Fortunately, most of us are so unimportant that our transactions and movements simply become part of the mega-database. Our lives are only strenuously examined if we become someone of note. 

Here are some of the questions floating in the air around me. Can you survive having the water to your house turned off? The human body requires hydration, so have you stashed any water? Is there a river or stream nearby? Do you have the means to purify water you glean if that’s even possible? What if there’s no electricity for months? Are you prepared for darkness and our rulers forcing us into deprivation? Can you get by without your medications? What if your kid gets sick and insurance won’t pay? What if the pharmacy won’t accept the cash you hoarded? Now that meat processing plants are closed, should you be growing vegetables? Will you have to live on the street when the landlord kicks you to the curb? What if the car runs out of gas and there is none? Are you strong enough to walk to work? What will you do if there is no work? Doubt surrounding despair and uncertainty, leading to utter confusion. Who really knows what’s going on anymore? Can we get to the root of one issue before being embroiled in another? 

Purposeful obfuscation has been the nature of our current administration from its onset. A group of people set out to rob an entire population of its wealth and freedom–not only plundering its savings, but compromising homes, livelihoods, and dignity. From my point of view, they’ve achieved their goal. We now stand in line to face shortages and further regulation, then become grateful for being given meager portions. Movement is strictly regulated. Are checkpoints and roadblocks next? 

Instead of worrying and losing sleep, I take small steps to ensure myself the greatest possibility of survival and focus on being happy and healthy. I’ll roll with whatever punches come my way. The big question for me is how long it will be until it becomes illegal to post my thoughts and stories. One of the steps every dictatorship takes is to silence intellectuals (not that I am one) and any creative endeavor that doesn’t meet the new standards. Feeding the populace flavorless pablum gradually erases their ability to think for themselves. 

Facebook already decides who of our friends can view our content. Recently, a woman I know asked, “Why have hundreds of friends if you can only interact with the same twenty over and over?” This form of censorship will eventually expand to our use of all electronic communication. Dialing the number of a friend, you might get a message that their phone is no longer in service or have undeliverable email because the filters found unacceptable verbiage. By keeping us in our homes and segregated, we won’t know that the person’s devices are fully functional unless we make the effort to go see them in person. 

Meanwhile, I’ll keep working and hoping that I don’t get arrested for being a social rebel whose rights are constantly under attack by evangelicals, assorted bigots, and our government. On a sunny day I can work in the yard, tend my beautiful flowers, and wear a pretty spring dress to the store. It would be nice if I had enough face masks to go with each different outfit, but, oh well, maybe I can learn to sew. Last week, a beautiful friend ordered me some new shoes for my birthday and I hope to wear them the first day the bar opens, along with the wig I’ve never unwrapped. Until then, as long as the liquor store stays open and my ice machine keeps working, I can party on. 

Wherever you are, I hope you’re taking the high road, not floundering and contemplating suicide. Bailing out and reducing the population allows those seeking to dissect and imprison our society to achieve their goals. Only by staying strong and doing everything you can to survive will we ultimately undermine this menace and make these people a bad memory. I’m not nostalgic when it comes to music, but I am a veteran of the hippie era and remember the poignant compelling lyrics that came from that period of protest. When our youth finally decide to quit being insolent underachievers, there will be another upheaval against the status quo. I may not be around to see it, but I know it will come. Every monster holding a population in slavery eventually succumbs to the ravages of time , and seeds we sow today become the flowers of tomorrow. I love you my friends and wish you well. Mizeta.

Seizing Opportunity - Mizeta Moon 

I accepted the reality of Big Brother decades ago, so I’ve never allowed watching the puppet show to distract me from thinking about the puppeteer. From my lowly social position, I’ve never been privy to who actually calls the shots but understand that our elected officials work for them, not us. The salaries aren’t the major consideration in running for office–it’s the perks. The money spent financing a campaign is an investment in hope of future returns. While it’s true there are altruists in the world of politics, few of them make a big impact on our society. Most campaign money comes from people who believe in a candidate’s ideas or those with an agenda they expect to be realized by the elected. Recent events have shown how little consideration most elected officials have for the people they supposedly serve. Even while drafting legislation based on humanism, they insert other agendas into it that are designed to control our morals, freedoms, behavior and movements. Using the current crisis as an excuse to rescind certain constitutional guarantees will solidify the goal of turning this country into a theocracy where women’s right to control their reproductive health will disappear along with same sex marriage and any aberration from religion-based law. 

Personally, I’m glad I don’t believe that Jesus will save people from an invisible enemy. It keeps me from being delusional. Good safety and health precautions will dictate who lives or dies. Science, not faith will prevail. Meanwhile, church is cancelled, (lack of faith in Jesus’s healing power?) pastors are dying, and instead of begging God to intervene, medical professionals are the front line against the current boogey man. The little people are stepping up and shouldering the load while the puppet show drones on and on about how hard they’re working to save our world. The fact that many of them dumped their stocks instead of pledging money to food banks, the Red Cross and local charities is testament to their selfishness. It’s heartening that the few officials who really care are making their voices heard and doing all they can to rally support, but the power blockade in Washington thwarts the majority of their efforts. Maybe some of the bible thumpers who want to control our sex lives will get sick and discover why they should have supported disaster preparedness for everyone instead. It saddens me to think that only the death of someone they love might point out what the rest of us endure on a daily basis, but maybe their hearts are so hardened by avarice they’ll never embrace empathy and simply cut their losses and buy a new yacht. 

Though it’s true we’ve had our activities curtailed for good reason, it’s become a lesson in how a totalitarian regime works. Once this crisis passes another will follow and freedom will never be completely restored. Culling the herd and indoctrinating the young are only part of creating a caste system wherein the elite benefit from the labor of millions whose lives are meaningless. The greatest part of this process is mind control. Instilling the belief that we deserve our fate and that it has always, will always and should be this way. If we cannot change and grow, then what exactly is the point? Forcing women to continuously gestate cannon fodder or hands to push the wheel? Filling the world with more starving orphans? Killing each other so the war machine makes more money for the rich? 

I’m among the vulnerable by being a senior citizen with respiratory issues but hope to survive by using common sense. If I don’t, I leave behind a lifetime of work that could be considered incendiary and subject to deletion since my mind is unwilling to be controlled by the desires and beliefs of others. Whatever happens I will face each day with a smile and love for my fellow man. I don’t like a lot of them, but I don’t like rutabagas either. That doesn’t mean I would ever ask a farmer to not grow them. I, like Dylan Thomas, will not go gentle into that good night. Mizeta

Political Clout - By Mizeta Moon 

While it’s disheartening to see more and more anti LGBTQ legislation being enacted across the country, it’s equally disheartening to see people sit idly by and allow themselves to be marginalized. I don’t understand why the community I consider my comrades in arms allows their own prejudices to keep them from becoming a massive voting bloc that can prevent such hatred from becoming the law of the land. “We’re lesbians so we’re not interested in gay boys.” Hello! We’re all in the same boat that’s being pounded by religion-based artillery. “You’re hetero even though you dress like a girl so you’re not part of the gay agenda.” Hello again! Anyone not conforming to the WASP agenda is considered expendable. If we all voted for someone who’s openly not of the accepted persuasion (even if all of their plans didn’t please us), we would win hands down. If everyone in America came out of the closet at once we would be the majority. I’m not talking about just the sexual closet. I’m talking about people who care about others and are afraid to lose social status by speaking their minds. I’m talking about standing up to outdated thinking that’s retarding human evolution. I’m talking about free will instead of ideologic enslavement. 

LGBTQ rights are being stripped away because this generation doesn’t respect or understand how much pain and suffering went into the few freedoms we gained over the years. There was a time I could have gone to jail for wearing a dress. Two men or women kissing in public led to ostracism. Are we going to allow that stigma to be reattached to our existence? Are we so self-centered that we’ll ignore each other until it’s too late? Once laws go on the books, they’re hard to erase. Those with an agenda to eradicate the LGBTQ community rely on complacency and lack of solidarity to further their goals and embed religious dogma into legislation. 

It amazes me that women can support misogyny and vote for rapists, abusers and chauvinists while their rights are being stripped away. It amazes me that any member of the LGBTQ community can support candidates who promote racism or sexism and oppose same sex marriage and child adoption. What’s happened? Have we truly become a nation of sheep unwilling to declare ourselves different? Do we no longer take pride in our individuality? I don’t speak for anyone other than myself but I’m happy to let my freak flag fly proudly and prominently in the face of all derision. My dog dropped out of the race due to lack of support but I’ll gladly support anyone who represents the possibility of shedding this shroud of confinement we’re being forced to wear. It would be easy to use the excuse that one vote doesn’t count. While that might be true, millions of votes backing open-minded people whose souls haven’t been sold will and do make a difference. 

Hitler executed hundreds of thousands of homosexuals and the citizenry waved flags and cheered. Please help stop this cycle of madness. I may be hetero, but I dress like a girl, am a girl in my heart and have no plans to be gay. If you keep holding that against me then we’ll never stand united against the onslaught of conformity. I don’t want to be bland. Do you?   Love Mizeta

Shaved Legs and All - By Mizeta Moon 

LGBT Pogrom

By Mizeta Moon

 

I volunteered to be the first one executed because I didn’t want to watch my brethren die. Witnessing their frailty be surrendered to the brutality of hate was a sight I couldn’t face. Blood sickens me. Possibly watching rivers of it flow and being helpless to stop it pummeled my sensibilities. 

Armed warriors came for us at night and herded us into vans that carried us blindfolded to unknown destinations. Chains bit into our skin. Our cries for aid and sympathy fell on deaf ears. We’d been targeted for extinction by a zealous xenophobic society that considered itself more worthy of existence than us. Though we considered ourselves harmless and them misinformed, we became their victims as hatred overwhelmed reason. 

As we starved in filthy facilities, we learned that people were being accosted on the street, swelling our numbers and making conditions worse. We were appalled that family members would sentence parents, offspring, or siblings to agony beyond imagination. At first, I wondered why they didn’t kill us right away, but soon realized mass execution required a totally brainwashed populace and strenuously managed release of information. There were still a few people with a heart left in the world. They were the only thing standing between us and wholesale slaughter. Debate raged in the country while more of us were crammed together, making it easy to dispose of us all at once, but in the end, sympathy waned and they prolonged the torture. In lines, we shuffle towards our doom, bound by suffering more than chains. 

The killing fields are composed of sand that absorbs our blood and will never know our names. I wasn’t the first one chosen. Now my tears flow while my heart breaks and I await my turn to die. My empty stomach churns with anger while my mind questions why. 

A pat on the shoulder as you pass a friend. A hug when it’s needed. Maybe that’s all it takes to make the world a better place. Love, Mizeta.