Social Acceptability

Social Acceptability has become a dominant lifestyle. In fact, it has taken over. Well, I've had enough of Social Acceptability. And I quit. I am not doing it anymore. No. Nay. Never. Or rather, I am only doing the parts of it that I agree to. And I am dumping the rest of Social Acceptability back into the morass that is the cesspool of societal demands.

If I want to wear teeshirts with holes or jeans with threads hanging off the bottoms or odd artsy color combinations, then I am going to do so. If I want to talk to my dog in public or talk to my houseplants in private, there ain't no stopping me. If I want to express an unpopular opinion in public or at 12-step meetings or in any of my blogs, I'm gonna do that with reckless abandon. Get it? This is far beyond the red hat society; or wearing purple when I am older; or shouting, "We're here! We're queer! And we won't change our clothes!" in a rainstorm during a certain memorable gay-lesbian-trans-bisexual-intersexed-queer pride march in New York City.

I celebrate diversity. I embrace the freedom that I have to be me and the freedom you have to be you. I welcome well-thought out differences of opinions, rational thinking, good-natured debates, the willingness to take risks. Risk-taking is risky. Testing limits is cool. Stretching beyond the norms is freeing. I am a W.Y.S.I.W.Y.G. kind of being. I breath radical stuff. My life is not designed for your comfort.

I am no longer responsible for anyone's comfortability level. Those who are skating over to my blogs during work hours or in front of children should err on the side of caution and assume that something somewhere I post is not work-safe or kid-safe. I use L.J. cuts at El Gay El Jay for all of my entries, and the adult filter at yahell 369 for those entries that contain manure subject matter. Even so, please assume that there are many somethings lurking in my writings that are bound to offend. It just might be that we are each responsible for what we do and where we go when whoever may be watching. You are responsible for what you do at your job, not me. You are responsible for you [and your younger relateds that may be hanging over your shoulder] and I am responsible for me [and my younger relateds who I've told clearly not to hang over my shoulder].

Oh sure, I do agree to certain basic principles that make for good living with others like clean clothes, armpits that don't reek, freedom from dirt-encrusted skin and hair that one can squeeze salad dressing out of, mowing the lawn before my dog gets entangled in it, upkeep of my castle home, attempting to stay within the restraints guidelines set by service providers, and all of that. That is for my own comfort and the comfort of the 4 leggeds that live with me. Not for yours.

I have never considered Social Acceptability to be one of my goals. That is not going to change. I've earned the right to celebrate my own eccentricity. And even if you think I haven't, that's just too bloody bad. Complain to your boring Socially Acceptable friends, whine to your god, work through it with your sponsor or spiritual adviser or teacher, go do the Drama Llama dance, whatever. And hey. Here's a slug quarter. Call someone who cares even. Cuz i sure don't.

spike