I never got around to mentioning this, but my Twitter account has been suspended for over two months, and I've chosen to leave it that way. This was my third strike. First, I got in trouble for saying I can't wait until Putin hides in a bunker and kills himself. Twitter, being a haven for Russian bots, took that very personally. Then I got in trouble for saying that the only platform Nazis should get is one that comes with a rope and a long drop. Twitter, being a Nazi platform, took that very personally. Then this last time, I got in trouble for saying "Die mad about it" to a moron who said that Juneteenth isn't a real holiday. Since Elon Musk fired all the smart people, Twitter interpreted that common figure of speech as a threat of violence. I appealed the decision and suggested that they penalize the moron for being racist instead. Twitter upheld the decision and didn't penalize her. I appealed it again. It's been stuck on appeal for over two months. They clearly have no intention of touching it, and the only way I can regain access to my account is by canceling the appeal, deleting the post, and acknowledging that it was wrong. Screw that.

It's really for the best. Twitter brought out the worst in me. Of course, in my case, the worst means insulting and swearing at terrible, horrible, no good, very bad people who deserve all of it and so much more. I'm not even a little bit sorry for being mean to bigots who make the world a worse place with every breath they take. But I'm sure it wasn't good for my spirituality or my blood pressure. Also, Elon Musk is a colossal piece of shit, and I don't want to make any money for him, especially now that he's using it to get Trump re-elected. Elon Musk is a case study of how capitalists support fascists for personal gain. Also, if he weren't rich, he would already be in serious legal trouble for his fake voter registration website. Billionaires should not be allowed to influence our elections. Billionaires, frankly, should not be allowed to exist. No, I'm not advocating the French solution, as much as I admire and fantasize about it. Making them pay their share of taxes would also work. Anyway, here's a funny video from my favorite comedian about how stupid Elon Musk and his fanboys are.

I'm busy writing my book, and I don't feel like writing much else. Let me just say a few words about the LDS Church's recent transgender policy change before I drop a video to compensate for not saying more words. I was asleep when it did its gay policy change in 2015, but I'm not asleep now, and shit like this is why I won't leave the church alone. These policies are pure discrimination. They're not loving. They have nothing to do with Jesus Christ. All that talk about love and Jesus Christ in the handbook is gaslighting, plain and simple. Anyone who knows what love is can see that this is not it. By choosing to treat transgender people like child predators, the LDS Church is taking its cues from Republicans, not revelation. (And Republicans, in turn, took their cues from the Nazis. I'm serious. Portraying LGBTQ+ people as child predators is straight out of the Nazi playbook.) This approach is factually as well as morally wrong. It's a well-known, indisputible fact that children are far more likely to be abused by clergy members, including Mormon bishops, than transgender people. The statistics aren't even close. But of course, when actual child abuse happens, the church sweeps it under the wrong and takes as little accountability as it can possibly get away with. It's not trying to protect children. It's just pandering to assholes who worship Donald Trump. If Jesus leads this church, I'm Mary Magdalene.

This policy change has Dallin Oaks' fingerprints all over it. He's been a voice for bigotry in the highest levels of the church since he became an apostle in 1984 and wrote a legal brief suggesting that homosexuals should be barred from "those types of employment and activities that provide teaching, association and role models for young people" and that the church should formally oppose homosexual marriage because it "would depopulate a nation, and, if sufficiently widespread, would extinguish its people." Oaks is a poster child for people who think they're a lot smaller than they are. He's going to do a lot of damage as the prophet, and he very well might already be the de facto prophet. It's more likely than not that he got these policies pushed through because Russell Nelson has declined too much to lead the church. If so, it will be interesting to see how the church tries to hide that at his hundredth birthday party in a few days - unless he dies before then, which I admit I would find funny. I don't wish death on him, but there's nothing sad about a 99-year-old man dying, and announcing hundredth birthday parties in advance just seems prematurely optimistic to me.

That reminds me, though, this week I argued with a Mormon who insisted that his church never fought against legalized same-sex marriage because it's poltiically neutral. I thought he was gaslighting me, but it turns out he was just really, really, really ignorant. He actually thought the campaign against Proposition 8 was something that a few wealthy Mormons did of their own volition, not something that the goddamn First Presidency asked every Mormon in California to do. I don't know how that level of ignorance is even possible.

Anyway, here's the video in case you've bothered to read this far but don't know what I'm talking about.

I ought to mention more about my trip to New York than just how awful the traveling part was. Here's what I wrote about it in the rough draft of the book I'm working on:

Soon after I started writing this book, I visited my paternal grandparents for the first time in over a decade. (First I had to realize that I was an adult and I could plan a trip across the country on my own, and then I had to save up the money, which certainly wasn’t going to happen while I worked for Kelly Education and ate from the food pantry.) In addition to the passage of time itself, I’d undergone a faith transition, an existential crisis, and my first drug trip, which all may have influenced my perspective. Almost every item in their house, in their yard, or in their garage flooded me with nostalgia, either because I remembered it or because it represented part of their eighty-plus years of life – or even longer, in the case of items handed down from their long-deceased parents. They aren’t wealthy, but they’ve accumulated more stuff than I can ever dream of owning. Thanks, boomers. (My grandparents are a little older than boomers, so they’re excused.)

My grandfather talked a lot about the past. He talked about his childhood, about the people he worked with at his jobs, about what the neighborhood used to look like and what used to be where. I can only imagine how much the changes he’s seen since 1937 have blown his mind. My grandmother, a bit younger, was a teenage girl in the late 1950s and therefore part of Elvis Presley’s main target demographic, and that blows my mind. I kept looking at their wedding photos on the mantel and marveling that they’d been young once and had complete lives and identities apart from being my grandparents. I didn’t exist yet, at least not in my current form, and they didn’t even imagine me. Does that make sense? It makes sense in my head.

Close quote. I thought I had more than that. Oops.

I was also blown away by how green and full of life it was compared to Utah. I think I mentioned that last week. Frankly, in terms of beauty, it kicks Utah's ass. It rained almost every day, and hailed one day.

I was like, "Who the heck are those kids?" And then I looked at the back.

Whaaat?

I can't believe I didn't recognize my own cousins. Of course, I haven't seen them in over a decade. I don't remember how long it's been since I've seen Emily. At the time this picture was taken, she was my best friend. Now she's cut off contact with this entire side of her family. Ah, life. The past slips away forever.

My first flight back from New York was delayed for over two hours. I waited in line for over an hour to try to rebook, but when I was near the end, they started boarding and said it was too late to rebook. Then they stopped boarding and said they would be delayed another two hours. Then after ten minutes, they boarded the rest of the way. Like every other flight on this trip, my connecting flight was also delayed, so by running as fast as I could - and to the person who said "Excuse you," I would like to respond, "Lady, this is an airport. You should assume that anyone in a hurry has a good reason for being in a hurry" - I made it while they were still boarding. Then my boarding pass didn't work and they made me wait for everyone else to board and then they messed around on a computer for a few minutes while I panicked a little. Then I boarded, and then we sat on the runway for two hours before the flight, along with all other westbound flights out of Philadelphia, was canceled. I've been stuck in Philadelphia, or more precisely Tinicum Township, for two days. Although I'm kind of pissed about having to pay for a hotel room for two nights instead of sleeping in the crappy basement that I already paid $600 for this month, I'm rather stoic about being stuck per se. Hundreds of people got screwed over at the same time I did, and it wasn't the airline's fault. As part of my spirituality, I took this opportunity to remind myself that humans are not the center of the universe and I have no right to resent the weather for not giving a shit about my travel plans. I'm taking a damn train next time, though.

I didn't have time to see the big tourist sites in Philadelphia proper, but I wandered around a little and found Governer Printz Park, site of the first permanent European settlement in Pennsylvania, which was Swedish before the Dutch and then the English took it over. It has seven replica log buildings and informational signs all over. It's cool that the history of European settlement goes back so much farther here than in Utah. You can feel it in the air even though most structures are obviously not that old. Ironically, though, I've seen more Trump and police brutality flags and signs both here and in New York than I do in Utah. Fascism is alive and well in small New England towns. George Washington must be weeping. I had six hours between when I had to check out of the hotel and when I needed to check in at the airport, so I wanted to walk the three miles in between them, but the last mile had no pedestrian access. I took the SEPTA bus, and I didn't know exactly how the fare would work because the bus system I've been accustomed to for the last thirteen years was free, and I didn't have time to explore my options while everyone waited for me to pay so they could get moving, so I paid the $2.50 with a $5 bill, reasonably expecting that the machine, like every other machine I've seen in my entire life that accepts cash, would give me change. It didn't. And of course customer support blamed me for being confused and under pressure instead of acknowledging that their system is needlessly stupid. I hate that neurotypical people are immune to logic.

While on vacation, I spent a few days arguing on Facebook. I know I can't stop people from being bigots, but I refuse to live in a society where bigots can speak their minds in public without getting pushback, and I also really enjoy being able to insult and cuss out bad people without a shred of guilt. I saw a feminist post getting overrun by maggots, so I called the maggots out. Over a thousand women reacted positively to my comment, perhaps a couple dozen personally thanked me, and the maggots got pissed. Most of them had nothing interesting to say. Four of them said "Hope she sees this bro," and others accused me of white knighting, virtue signaling, being an incel, being a rapist, patronizing women, trying to get women to sleep with me, and so on. This, of course, says volumes about the maggots themselves. It says, first of all, that they know their own behavior toward woman is shitty, and they don't care. Secondly, it says that sex is the only thing that could motivate them to stop being shitty. These men are scum and proud of it. So most of their comments don't deserve to be remembered in any form, but here are a few from the "Holy crap, why do people like this exist" category.

This maggot, who's living proof that feminism needs to exist, actually shut up after I said, "You're not challenging my views, you're reinforcing them, because I would rather die than become a pathetic shitstain like you." Dare I hope that caused him to do any soul-searching? I meant it, too. And if I had a son who grew up to be like Adam Davis, I'd smother him in his sleep.

Oops, Jesse Bowman said one of the quiet parts out loud - he doesn't think rape is a big deal. I'm sure most of these maggots would agree. Oddly, he also thinks someone is forcing men to be construction workers.

The staggering intellect of a Trump supporter, ladies and gentlemen. I support Black people existing without getting murdered by cops, and I support democratic nations not being invaded and subjected to war crimes by dictatorships. These are incomprehensible stances to modern Republicans, whose godawful policies and values require them to side with the aggressor and shit on the victim in seemingly every situation, no matter how irrational or incoherent it makes them. Note, too, that this delusional maggot took it upon himself to speak for women despite over a thousand of them in this thread showing that they don't share his views. And I doubt there's even a coherent thought process behind his conclusion that speaking up for women against a sea of misogynists makes me the "pouty and rapey" one. Fascism aside, I can't stand people like John Steele who think they're smart when they're actually dumber than drool. In an ideal world, they wouldn't be allowed to vote.

I will gladly tell men like this to fuck off again and again and again. I will gladly take their abuse and dish it right back out. Standing up for what's right is its own reward, putting maggots in their place is a huge bonus, and the gratitude of the people I'm standing up for is also nice. I suppose that does make me a virtue signaler, and to a bigot, that's the worst thing I could possibly be. Oh well.

I'm on vacation with my grandparents in New York for a couple of weeks, and I'm not going to put much effort into this post. My first flight was delayed by two and a half hours, which would cause me to miss my second flight, so American Airlines' system automatically rebooked me on an overnight flight arriving at 6 a.m. without telling me. The bag check-in lady was able to get me on another delayed flight to Dallas instead of Chicago, and I made to the end of the boarding line with a few minutes to spare. I would like to add my complaint to the many complaints about the Salt Lake airport. I cannot comprehend why I had to walk through empty space for twenty minutes to get to my gate. Why the hell didn't they put the gates in that empty space instead of the empty space? How the hell did this arrangement get designed, approved, and built? I hope everyone involved never works in their respective industries again.

So now I've been to Texas. I have no other reason to want to go to Texas because its governor is a bellend. I had five hours to kill at the airport because my second rescheduled flight was, of course, delayed, and I walked around for a while and I worked on the new book that I just started for a while. I sat with my computer at a charging station by the gate and paid no attention to the pretty young woman seated across from me until a guy across the room yelled at his kids for running around, and I looked over there, and she grinned at me and said, "They're losing their shit!" And I said I couldn't blame them for being bored, and she agreed. And then it occurred to me that I could keep talking to her by asking how long she'd been delayed and stuff, but it also occurred to me that just because a woman spoke to me didn't mean she wanted to have a whole conversation, so I didn't. She went back to her work, and then she went off somewhere.

When it was time to board, I was in the second-to-last group, so I didn't get in line. She returned and also didn't get in line. As I waited, my eyes wandered around and didn't look at her. But then they did look at her, and it seems like she was looking at me before that, because she immediately looked away as an involuntary smile sprouted on her face. I mean, I wasn't in her head and I don't know what the synapses in her brain were doing, but her smile looked involuntary based on my short lifetime of observations and personal experience. I've had the exact same reaction when someone I found attractive looked at me. So this brought me to the realization that, against all odds, she probably found me attractive. Though unusual, this would not be unprecedented. I've been asked to ladies' choice dances. I've been flirted with and realized it years later. That girl in the USU library in 2013 who started a friendly conversation by asking me about a simple point of grammar that she could have taken a few seconds to look up on her computer was probably flirting with me.

I kept waiting for this pretty young woman to get in line, but she kept not getting in line, so I got in line and then she got in line right behind me. And the line moved slowly, and I made a point of pretending not to notice or care about her presence, although sometimes I would turn my head so I could kind of see her and she could see that I could see her and she could talk to me if she wanted. I didn't dare to talk to her. Bad things happen to me when I have that kind of confidence. I imagined her getting on one of the feminist subreddits I frequent and complaining that she can't go out in public without men being attracted to her. Really, I see complaints like that. Apparently some women hate being approached by men in public at all, even if the men don't harass them or refuse to take no for an answer. And they hate it when their guy friends turn out to be attracted to them, even if their guy friends don't harass them or refuse to take no for an answer. Maybe I'm a misogynist for not feeling even a little bit sorry for those women.

As she stood behind me in line and I let her into my peripheral vision, this woman twirled a lock of her hair in an exaggerated manner. This was a less obvious sign of attraction, since I couldn't prove that it had anything to do with me, but nobody else was twirling their hair, and it's such a well-established sign of attraction that it inspired a hilarious Argentinian commercial where a guy has dinner with his girlfriend's family and charms her mother, grandmother, and father so much that they all do it. (Her father has short hair, but he grows a long lock just for that shot.) I became hopeful that since we seemed to be in the same boarding category, we would sit together, and then it wouldn't be weird for me to talk to her. Her seat was several rows up from mine. I decided I would muster my courage during the three-hour flight and talk to her at the baggage claim. She wasn't at the baggage claim. I hate being me.

She probably thinks I wasn't attracted to her and/or failed to pick up on her signals. The first one isn't true, and surprisingly, neither is the second. A third, less likely possibility is that she thinks I'm a weird Republican who refused to flirt back without verification of her chromosomes. I don't want her to think those things. But because I think almost constantly about death and what may await us afterward, it occurred to me almost immediately that maybe when she dies she'll have one of those life reviews that many people describe after they die and come back, and she'll revisit our brief moments together and see my thoughts and feelings and finally know the truth. Maybe she'll know that I thought she was very pretty. Maybe she'll know that her unsolicited vulgar remark gave me a positive impression of her personality. And maybe she'll glimpse the ocean of trauma that made me fear her more than I fear being alone.