(Some of the following will make sense to people with whom I shared it in posts elsewhere on this board or in private emails, some won't--so please bear with me here.)

As for the issue taking over, it's pretty clear my main issue is with having to defend my rights--to life and freedom of speech--the right not only to make contributions but have my existence regarded as worthwhile as well as my words (closely related which is why I said there are just so many steps between being banned from a message board, and death--the more I keep between me and death the better.) This suddenly being called on to defend myself just crops up at the strangest times in the most unexpected places. I always have less right to be anywhere, than anyone else--that was the cause of the homicidal rages in the three incidents in 2009 and 2010. Once the stress level hits the point of full homicidal rage recovery is very long and difficult. (Nothing came of them except a lot of flashbacks and general anxiety, nervousness, and discouragement. It's not as if I go out looking for people to kill--I simply avoid them by becoming even more of a recluse than usual.)

Interestingly (or not, but too bad--), I have related the whole having to defend my right to live back to when I was born. My dad was disappointed not to get a boy--because his brother had died when Dad was seven and the brother was twelve. The brother was the blond-haired, blue-eyed genius of the family--dad was fairly bright but ordinary in comparison to this prodigy set to graduate high school at age 13. Anyhow, when I was born Dad felt ripped-off yet again, after first his brother and then his mother dying, and then not getting a son as his firstborn (or at all--I was so glad there was not a boy--I might have been shut out entirely.) Then when my sisters were born (perfect little redheaded twins who could do no wrong) I had a bad reaction (I was under age two) and he wrote me off and continued to write me off until he died four years ago. Now, why I should still feel compelled to defend my place on this planet and for whose benefit is a good question, but there it is. It may seem an exercise in futility to be still trying to make up for someone who died in 1925, when the last family member who knew them alive has been laid to rest, but this last day or so I have been worked into a veritable lather about it.

It's strange I just mentioned the ravening hordes again within the last day or so. I haven't really defined them but they're sort of like Philistines, sort of like Huns, and sort of like Vikings. Mom was just watching Young Frankenstein this afternoon and that scene near the end perfectly depicts the ravening hordes--the torch-bearing mob bursting in while Dr. Frankenstein's assistants need just two more minutes to complete the experiment to save the monster. That scene where they're begging for time is painful for me--comedy or not--just as some scenes in Keaton's comedies are painful. There is always that fear of the rampaging rabble destroying what should be your greatest work just before its moment of fruition. Of course in that case it all works out well as it seems to have in this case, in a better outcome than many a similar and sad story.

The standout amazing thing is the moderator agreed to deal with the bully, but off the list, so thank God not a repeat of the other fan group where the list owners and moderators made the evil bitch out to be some poor victim of an unprovoked attack and I ended up banned for life and couldn't even play the music for ten years. (Even now I have CDs still in the plastic.) I haven't heard any more from the moderator; assume he contacted her and may be waiting to hear back. I am also still a member; just checked, although I made a remark (offhandedly directed at both Bully and Clueless but not naming anyone, and could apply to others as well.) He also (sort of) apologized to my friend for not knowing the situation wasn't settled, as I didn't know it either, because, in fact, it wasn't--his mistake.

The GREAT thing is a member who encouraged me and my friend at first, but then got very quiet (I want to ask her if she was intimidated by the reaction our posts were getting) couldn't sleep and founded a FAN discussion group--so now the real fans can go there and not be at odds with the scholars. As long as they allow me to stay, I will restrict any posts to the main group to strictly scholarly subjects or very brief replies to other peoples' posts--if not sure, run them by the fan group first--and post anything such as movie reviews and so on on the fan group. So my campaigning actually resulted in positive progress for humanity! And my friend was the first member and poster on the new group!

What's more, Buster is following me around the internet, because I bought some Buster items and his picture pops up trying to sell me more. Heh-heh. Kitty Buster doing great, too, being liberated from the cage today.

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The coast is clear. I am back in my civvies again.



And, yes, I do have a puppy in my pocket. But I am happy to see you.

Buster Kitten is at last on the loose! Since getting him on November 4, at first I left him in a large cage at all times he was unsupervised because he was so much smaller than my cat Skipper--who is about twelve pounds where Buster was at the time about two. Buster has doubled in size, and we now have an arrangement where he can eat separately from Skipper (in a place he can get into and Skipper can't) until he is full-grown, so no further need to keep him contained. Of course, I trip over or step on him five or ten times a day but being Buster Kitten he feels neglected unless receiving such attentions. His favorite trick now is to run up behind you and pounce on the back of your legs. So wonderful to hear the pitter-patter of little paws around the house!

quote:

Originally posted by dandelion:
And, yes, I do have a puppy in my pocket. But I am happy to see you.

This is wonderful! I think I'll steal it! Or at least borrow it.

quote:

Originally posted by Doug Spaulding:

quote:

Originally posted by dandelion:
And, yes, I do have a puppy in my pocket. But I am happy to see you.

This is wonderful! I think I'll steal it! Or at least borrow it.

Buster doesn't begrudge anyone borrowing his material. (As a matter of fact, Doug, I dangled that one as bait with you specifically in mind.)

I am tickled silly, psyched, thrilled, and jazzed about Christmas! How about you?



Ho. Ho. Ho.

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It's a natural impulse to worry, when a situation starts to go bad, that it will end up like the worst-case scenario you ever experienced. When I protest these things, it is very much in a Twilight Zone manner--"What's wrong with everybody here?" No matter how many times it's happened or how used to it I should be by now, I am always shocked and surprised when a group of seemingly nice, normal people turn into a mob. Just part of life, I guess. Once I went so far as to attend an event and was attacked by a bully in a hotel room full of people. I expected the others to swarm upon me in a gang and was delighted when, after I stood up to the bully who left, they were very supportive of me.

It's also an impulse to want to either entirely hide your interests, or disguise your level of interest in them, so they can't be used to attack you. Those not interested will attack you by saying you're weird to like that, or like it that much, and those who are interested will attack by saying you like it in the wrong way and are not good enough to like it anyway. It's that second thing I'm fighting. I was on thin ice for awhile there but so far so good for now.

Of course, I've realized by now that, barring either miracles or disasters, there are only two ways to maintain a good mood. One, really convince myself I have something worthwhile to give the world and then keep it up until I deliver rather than putting off the good mood until I have the bird in hand. (Sort of a "living on credit" good mood--in other words, I can't "prove" I deserve it, but after I deliver, I will have "paid" for the good mood. This actually worked on and off for years until sometime after college.) Or, completely change my entire belief system and defiantly feel all right anyway, although I have absolutely neither belief nor proof that I deserve it--or believe I deserve it on some other grounds than what I can do. (Admirable perhaps, but too big a mental chasm to leap.)



In this case it worked out more for good than ill, but you just never know. It's why life is so unnerving. I really think if I didn't have to spend half my time and energy on strategies for escape in case someone tries to pull something, and revenge in case they succeed, I'd have more resources to work on these books!

Any artistic endeavor is one of those strange paradoxical things where it's just as important to get over yourself as to feel you have worthwhile things to say. It's striking exactly the right balance to achieve these conditions that seems as much or more difficult than the work itself.

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Hey, I just got a great 24" x 36" (2ft x 3 ft) poster of this photo of Buster at the helm at AllPosters.com and printed out the Mark Twain quote to frame with it!

On the Buster group I asked, am I bad for adoring Buster? They asked me why I would think that and here is what I came up with:

Well, first off there is nothing inherently wrong in adoring Buster, even for me. If there were, I would sure as heck not be all over this group, the other group, Facebook, and Internet Movie Database, among other places, trying to ENCOURAGE THE HELL out of everyone else! (Duh.)

Of course close to the first thing I felt when I realized I loved him was the usual basic dismay at finding emotions out of control, which I was sure were not only under control but entirely dormant. Then there comes the sinking question, "Oh, God, how can this be used against me and by who?" I guess the key thing here is to keep one's loves from being turned against one and used to beat one over the head. It basically boils down to being considered frivolous for having a crush at all, or liking the right thing in the wrong way, in someone else's estimation. I've been thinking over a lot lately about how almost everything in life that was, or promised to be, a good and redeeming force has been turned against me--usually by my own reaction to the attitudes of others. It only starts with other people; I seem to do the rest myself. In other words, they grab something (generally either something I like and am not supposed to, or don't like and am supposed to), start beating me over the head with it, and say, "Now unless you continue beating yourself over the head long and hard enough, you'll be a lazy slacker and all-around bad person and never amount to anything good, and don't expect help from anyone else if you're too lazy even to beat yourself over the head!" So I start beating myself over the head, all the time looking for an out or someone to give me permission to stop. Only, it's cheating to ask directly, and when I try and it backfires I am compelled to beat myself over the head longer and harder. This goes on for many years with very few breaks. The last two months have been the nearest thing resembling a break I've had in four years. This makes for one semi-permanent case of bad nerves and is not conducive to concentration for writing--except in short bursts!

The next thing is, as I said when first asked this, if you continually want something you are never able to get, (for instance someone in real life about whom I could be as enthusiastic as I am about Buster) could it be because you are not meant to have it and if so why? As far as romantic relationships, I tried as hard as I could within reason but you can't invent something from nothing, let alone less than nothing, and as for making do with what's available, BEEN THERE, TRIED THAT, NEVER AGAIN! (And if I knew how to make those caps in 24-point bold type, I would!)

(I consider Bradbury's story "Any Friend of Nicholas Nickelby's is a Friend of Mine" to be a marvelous fallback and justification of such dilemmas.)

Hey, I found this http://www.avclub.com/articles...than-anyone-el,1858/ while searching for a quote from someone's signature line. There's a lot of good stuff here, but what stood out most for me was Vonnegut's description of his sister Alice from his introduction of a work of fiction based on her. "Since Alice had never received any religious instruction, and since she had led a blameless life, she never thought of her awful luck as being anything but accidents in a very busy place. Good for her." Not only good for Alice, but a clear illustration that scarcely two more polar opposite beings could possibly occupy the world, than me and Alice. I see my life not as being "blameless" but as "the time when I should have accomplished this, that, and the other" and I never saw "awful luck" or "accidents" but very deliberate "lessons" tailor-made and precisely targeted at me by an intelligent force for somehow falling short of what I was supposed to have been put here to accomplish. The question always became, were my goals bad and was I a bad person for wanting them? Or were my goals good and I was a bad person for not getting them? I have torn out more handfuls of hair pondering this than everything else in life combined.

Of course, it's partly upbringing. Parents who don't want a spoiled child withhold privileges when that child has done wrong or the parents think it has, and reinstate them when the child does right. The child thinks, "Fine, you say that now, but when I'm grown up I'll decide what's right for me!" Whenever I find myself wanting something that despite persistent longing and repeated attempts I've been consistently unable to successfully achieve (and a romantic relationship and writing success are the only two of these things significant enough to be worth mentioning) and I see others attaining success in what they do, I always ask myself, "Why has God chosen me to be unsuccessful? Am I being punished for something I couldn't do, or could have done but didn't try hard enough? What qualities am I lacking or maybe have too much of, can I change them, and if so how should I go about it?" This raises such awful possibilities pondering their implications becomes so painful I'd rather not think of it at all. Not being a drinker, I just have to find some other means of changing the subject. My goal in the Buster fandom is to keep this interest working for good for me and not have it turned into a weapon to be used against me. I had a very scary time of it a few days back, but it worked out as well as possible for all concerned so let's keep up the good work!

Enjoying your enthusiasm, dandelion, if rather vicariously.
Sadly, there are too many Mr. Wyneskis or Job rebukers, as it'were, in the world.

For one, Mr. Wyneski was jealous, and for another, he just didn't get what Charlie D. was about. Thanks for reading the thread. You know I wouldn't write all this if I didn't love you guys and I welcome your comments.

Here is an Einstein quote found and shared by a Buster fan: "If you can't get someone out of your head, then maybe they're supposed to be there."

Einstein was a wise man.

Two young Busters put on their very best glamorous come-hither-type look!





Man, they look separated at birth!

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At Christmas Eve service, my friend Julia said, "You're so bad." I said, "It's my New Year's resolution to be worse," and she said, "How could you?" May as well start now. Here is Santa's elf bearing the Christmas present of my dreams!

Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you all love your toys!