Okay so, big fat surprise, my Ex-Mormon Video caused a bit of a stir and gave several faithful and righteous individuals the opportunity to scold, judge, condemn me, and rip me apart. I was very careful to not bash the LDS church in any way but, rather, to share a mere 2 minute and 20 second snippet of a very long, very complicated personal life story. Have I bashed the church? Absolutely I have. Was I bashing it in that video? Nope. Not even close. That is not what that video series is about. Hell, they think that was bashing? They clearly didn’t read this blog during Prop 8.
All I did was state a few, very minor, things that had been my own personal experience growing up. I am stunned (but not really) at how many people came out swinging with, “No, you didn’t!” “No, they didn’t!” “No, we don’t!” “That’s not true!” I am “inaccurate” about my own experience? Excuse me, but how the hell do you know? Were you there? That’s like someone telling me that when they were little they were in a car accident and then, because that thought frightens me, having me scream at them that they are making it up, lying, deceived, crazy…
Whatever.
I stopped giving a shit about what The Hillbillies think of me a long time ago. I have a glorious life to live that they cannot comprehend in their wildest dreams.
[Note: I am NOT saying that Mormons are hillbillies. People are hillbillies if they behave and think like hillbillies and some of them happen to be Mormon. I am also not saying that people that hate me are hillbillies. People are welcome to hate me all they want – just, please, hate me for good and intelligent reasons. Little people have my permission to hate me. I have totally earned it.]
I was recently having a conversation with a friend who is a very active member of the LDS church. And she was complaining to me about how her fellow members react if anyone dares to voice that they are struggling or questioning their faith in the least little bit. That is probably the biggest issue that Ex-Mormons have with those that still believe. The moment there are questions, and those questions are voiced, doors are slammed. The moment one shares that a testimony has been rocked they are ostracized. One in a million members will actually say, “Wow, that must be so scary… How awful for you… I am so sorry, what can I do… I can’t even imagine what that would be like or what I would do…” The rest reject and label as dangerous and sinful faster than you can say CTR.
Do you have any idea how incredible it would be for someone who is struggling to hear those words? To have someone even try to understand? To have someone check their agenda at the door and listen for real, and empathize for real, about what is going on? About how terrifying it is? Because it is terrifying. More than they can imagine. And that is why they avoid us like the plague. They are so frightened of that happening to them that they bury their heads in self-righteous condemnation and hide behind the belief that we “obviously never really had a testimony to begin with.” Really? I never really had a testimony? Yes, I did. A BIG FAT ONE. The LDS church and my faith in God and Christ were absolutely everything to me. And that is what terrifies them so much. If I really can have a solid testimony and not do one thing to jeopardize it (ie: drink, have sex outside of marriage, look at porn, read anything that even smells anti-Mormon, stop paying tithing…) then they can too. And that thought is inconceivable and cannot, will not, be tolerated. Therefore, I am a liar and they are truth bearers. I am deceived and they are enlightened. I am to be pitied and corrected and they are just the ones to do it.
Whatever.
God, just imagine what they’re going to say when Dancing With Crazy is released. The shit is going to hit the fan. And, again, I will be a crazy, pathetic, misguided, dangerous, truth-impaired woman.
Whatever.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. They will never understand – I’m not even going to try and make them. It doesn’t matter to me. They don’t matter to me. The earth is not flat and I am done eating the vomit.
Actually the only comments that didn’t make me throw my head back laughing were the variations of “Well, let’s just see how things are for her in the next life.” Really??? You know how things are going to be for me in the next life??? You know my heart??? You know why I am on this planet better than I do??? You know the relationship I have with my Creator??? Are you really that arrogant? You actually have the audacity to sit back and smugly judge what my experience has been while I’ve been in this body and what it will be like when I am out of it???
Whatever.
Showing posts with label Hillbillies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hillbillies. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Monday, July 27, 2009
Deep Fried Delights
So, the answer to the question of how the hell I can do all the work and traveling that I have been doing and still blog should be obvious by now. I can't. Sorry all.
Went straight from LA to San Francisco. Had a wonderful time. Won't bore you with the Who, Why, Where, When and What I Did On My Summer Vacation essay but there are a few things that came out of my time there. First, and of far greatest importance...
Who knew you could deep fry sugary treats??? I am gathering that the deep frying of random foods originated in the South and since I grew up in Northern California and have not attended many carnivals in my life - despite my love of Hillbillies / Carnies - I had never heard of the very thing that is now haunting me, even in my sleep.
Deep Fried Twinkies.
I learned from a friend last week that, not only can you deep fry Twinkies but, you can deep fry Oreos, Snickers Bars, Apple Pie... I had a Happygasm right then and there and have since been able to think of little else.
I got home and asked my friend Suzette if she had ever heard of such a thing. She had. Then, backed by the trumpets of Heaven, she announced that she has her very own deep fryer. Her husband gave it to her a couple of years ago and she has never used it. NEVER USED IT! Oh yeah, we're gonna put that Baby to work right quick.
Deep Fry Party: Twinkies, Oreos, Snickers, homemade chocolate chip cookies, Twix Bars... Then the sugar high will have me deep frying Tequila topped with deep fried pickles, grapes, cheese, those weird little Smuckers Peanut Butter & Jelly pies, beef jerky, licorice and Blair Underwood.
Colonic anyone?
Went straight from LA to San Francisco. Had a wonderful time. Won't bore you with the Who, Why, Where, When and What I Did On My Summer Vacation essay but there are a few things that came out of my time there. First, and of far greatest importance...
Who knew you could deep fry sugary treats??? I am gathering that the deep frying of random foods originated in the South and since I grew up in Northern California and have not attended many carnivals in my life - despite my love of Hillbillies / Carnies - I had never heard of the very thing that is now haunting me, even in my sleep.
Deep Fried Twinkies.
I learned from a friend last week that, not only can you deep fry Twinkies but, you can deep fry Oreos, Snickers Bars, Apple Pie... I had a Happygasm right then and there and have since been able to think of little else.
I got home and asked my friend Suzette if she had ever heard of such a thing. She had. Then, backed by the trumpets of Heaven, she announced that she has her very own deep fryer. Her husband gave it to her a couple of years ago and she has never used it. NEVER USED IT! Oh yeah, we're gonna put that Baby to work right quick.
Deep Fry Party: Twinkies, Oreos, Snickers, homemade chocolate chip cookies, Twix Bars... Then the sugar high will have me deep frying Tequila topped with deep fried pickles, grapes, cheese, those weird little Smuckers Peanut Butter & Jelly pies, beef jerky, licorice and Blair Underwood.
Colonic anyone?
Friday, April 3, 2009
My Midget Patch
My name is Emily Pearson and I am a mockaholic. It has been 73 days since my last little person public poke fun. Since the beginning of my midget minded blog-mock I openly acknowledged that it was small and politically incorrect of me. That it was no different than making black, fag and retard jokes, something I would sooner be a polygamous Mormon than do. (I cringe even writing those words.) In fact, I would rip someone a new one who was that ignorant. So, why the hell was it okay to make fun of midgets? Yeah, I know. It wasn't.
I tried to quit. I swore off midget mocking for good. I did pretty well for a while but then I saw that video and read Chelsea Handler and totally tumbled, head first, off the wagon.
Then I was taken to task by a few readers who reminded me, yet again, that it is ridiculously hypocritical of me to be screaming for human rights, ranting about honoring people for who they are - who they were born to be, while making fun of people who just happened to be born small. Well, okay, we're all born small - they just happen to stay that way. You know what I mean.
I started over and, like I said, now have 73 days of public midget mock sobriety under my belt. But I was still having massive withdrawals. The kids and I were at a movie a couple of weeks ago and I suddenly noticed they were looking at me with giant saucer eyes and repeating, "Mom, don't turn around. Whatever you do, do NOT turn around." I don't know how I knew - I just knew. "Is it a midget?" They nodded. I lowered my head, pursed my lips tightly and willed my shoulders not to shake as the tears ran down my cheeks. I was so blissfully happy. I did fire off a couple of text messages but I did not, until now, blog about my sighting. And this, for the official record, is not midget mocking. This is merely midget sharing.
I need to stop the twitching of quitting cold turkey. I need a replacement - something to fill the giant gaping hole left by the dwarfs. (Do NOT ask me why that is the politically correct term they prefer. Seriously? Sneezy, Grumpy, Dopey?) I need a patch to wear as I get the nicotine like midgety chemical out of my system. I have racked my brain over and over. What can replace midgets? What makes me laugh almost as much? What can I mock that no one, including me, can crucify me for? What walks the planet just begging to be made fun of? And then it hit me...
Hillbillies!!!
How did I not see it before? The billies of the hills! They may not bring the same Christmas morning giggles as midgets but item for item they bring WAY more mock for my buck. Midgets may have big heads but hillbillies have mullets. No contest. Midgets may have cute round wiggle butts but hillbillies have absolutely no butts whatsoever. Just back then leg. What is UP with that? Plus there's the missing teeth and the lazy eyes and the whole inbreeding thing.
A midget is pretty much just a midget - hell, I just saw one at the Megaplex and he looked just like the one I saw at the airport. And that actor who is in everything bugs me. He seems like such an asshole. And, I'm sorry, but asshole midgets just ruin it for the rest of them. But I live in Utah where there are countless variations of hillbillies all around me. Behind the counter at the gas station. At every Wal-Mart. At the Kelly Temp Services office I worked at in West Valley. There are a pack of, what appear to be female, hillbillies with the most confusing mullets EVER that work at the Salt Palace. At the mall with their sister wives and matching clown car vaginas. In the Senate gurgling gleefully about Pig Sex. In Toole. In my extended family.
However, technically, the aforementioned hillbillies are not real hillbillies. Oh, they will do for a good mocking now and then but they are watered down versions of the real thing. They are Hillbilly Light. And I'm not talking about the Beverly Hillbillies. They were well paid actors on a TV show and while Ellie May and Jethro may have gotten it on once in a while they weren't really related so it doesn't really count. Real true hillbillies can pretty much only be found in cabins in the Appalachian Mountains and in traveling carnivals - as rare and elusive as unicorns. And almost as magical. I cannot wait to begin my search.
And here's the very best part. No one can write me and tell me that they have a hillbilly child and my words are wounding to their heart. (A) Real hillbillies don't have a clue that they are hillbillies and the parent of a real hillbilly is also a hillbilly and therefore unaware of that fact as they run their tongue along the jelly space where their teeth used to be. (B) Any parent that is not a hillbilly but has a child that is a hillbilly and is defending that child deserves to be mocked - if not shot. (C) Unlike size, skin color and sexuality, while one may have been born TO a hillbilly, one does not have to BE a hillbilly. Barack Obama was born underprivileged but he did not stay that way. I was born Mormon but not stay that way. And hillbillies? Well all I can say is welcome to the age of education, hair salons and dentistry.
So, I'm sorry but if any of you leave a comment saying that you work in a carnival and are proud of your mullet and want me to support sibling marriage with the same gusto I support gay marriage I will unapologetically say what I have said before. "Step away from the livestock Cletus, ya freakin' hillbilly!"
I tried to quit. I swore off midget mocking for good. I did pretty well for a while but then I saw that video and read Chelsea Handler and totally tumbled, head first, off the wagon.
Then I was taken to task by a few readers who reminded me, yet again, that it is ridiculously hypocritical of me to be screaming for human rights, ranting about honoring people for who they are - who they were born to be, while making fun of people who just happened to be born small. Well, okay, we're all born small - they just happen to stay that way. You know what I mean.
I started over and, like I said, now have 73 days of public midget mock sobriety under my belt. But I was still having massive withdrawals. The kids and I were at a movie a couple of weeks ago and I suddenly noticed they were looking at me with giant saucer eyes and repeating, "Mom, don't turn around. Whatever you do, do NOT turn around." I don't know how I knew - I just knew. "Is it a midget?" They nodded. I lowered my head, pursed my lips tightly and willed my shoulders not to shake as the tears ran down my cheeks. I was so blissfully happy. I did fire off a couple of text messages but I did not, until now, blog about my sighting. And this, for the official record, is not midget mocking. This is merely midget sharing.
I need to stop the twitching of quitting cold turkey. I need a replacement - something to fill the giant gaping hole left by the dwarfs. (Do NOT ask me why that is the politically correct term they prefer. Seriously? Sneezy, Grumpy, Dopey?) I need a patch to wear as I get the nicotine like midgety chemical out of my system. I have racked my brain over and over. What can replace midgets? What makes me laugh almost as much? What can I mock that no one, including me, can crucify me for? What walks the planet just begging to be made fun of? And then it hit me...
Hillbillies!!!
How did I not see it before? The billies of the hills! They may not bring the same Christmas morning giggles as midgets but item for item they bring WAY more mock for my buck. Midgets may have big heads but hillbillies have mullets. No contest. Midgets may have cute round wiggle butts but hillbillies have absolutely no butts whatsoever. Just back then leg. What is UP with that? Plus there's the missing teeth and the lazy eyes and the whole inbreeding thing.
A midget is pretty much just a midget - hell, I just saw one at the Megaplex and he looked just like the one I saw at the airport. And that actor who is in everything bugs me. He seems like such an asshole. And, I'm sorry, but asshole midgets just ruin it for the rest of them. But I live in Utah where there are countless variations of hillbillies all around me. Behind the counter at the gas station. At every Wal-Mart. At the Kelly Temp Services office I worked at in West Valley. There are a pack of, what appear to be female, hillbillies with the most confusing mullets EVER that work at the Salt Palace. At the mall with their sister wives and matching clown car vaginas. In the Senate gurgling gleefully about Pig Sex. In Toole. In my extended family.
However, technically, the aforementioned hillbillies are not real hillbillies. Oh, they will do for a good mocking now and then but they are watered down versions of the real thing. They are Hillbilly Light. And I'm not talking about the Beverly Hillbillies. They were well paid actors on a TV show and while Ellie May and Jethro may have gotten it on once in a while they weren't really related so it doesn't really count. Real true hillbillies can pretty much only be found in cabins in the Appalachian Mountains and in traveling carnivals - as rare and elusive as unicorns. And almost as magical. I cannot wait to begin my search.
And here's the very best part. No one can write me and tell me that they have a hillbilly child and my words are wounding to their heart. (A) Real hillbillies don't have a clue that they are hillbillies and the parent of a real hillbilly is also a hillbilly and therefore unaware of that fact as they run their tongue along the jelly space where their teeth used to be. (B) Any parent that is not a hillbilly but has a child that is a hillbilly and is defending that child deserves to be mocked - if not shot. (C) Unlike size, skin color and sexuality, while one may have been born TO a hillbilly, one does not have to BE a hillbilly. Barack Obama was born underprivileged but he did not stay that way. I was born Mormon but not stay that way. And hillbillies? Well all I can say is welcome to the age of education, hair salons and dentistry.
So, I'm sorry but if any of you leave a comment saying that you work in a carnival and are proud of your mullet and want me to support sibling marriage with the same gusto I support gay marriage I will unapologetically say what I have said before. "Step away from the livestock Cletus, ya freakin' hillbilly!"
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