Devyl Blue

The Devyl You Know…

My article about chivalry the other day had me thinking about equality issues this weekend.

I ended up coming across some equality literature written by women (read: womyn*).

Think about this…

A lot of these groups will insist that God is a woman, and yet there is no mention that the devil is anything other than male.

Why is this?



Black and Blue. But Mostly Black.

I spent most of yesterday watching some friends of mine grade for their black belt.

I have to say that I was nothing short of proud and impressed. They all did an excellent job, and I’m looking forward to seeing them get their certificates for the levels they have achieved.

It makes me very proud to train with these people. They are an excellent example of martial artists.

Way to go, guys!




* – I will never ever understand this.

Chivalry

Chivalry Is Not Dead. It Never Existed

Today, an older gentleman (and I use that term loosely) gave me pause to think about why men hold doors for women.

Is it to be polite? A gesture of respect?

No.

It’s so that a man can stare at a woman’s caboose without being obvious to her.

This morning on the subway, an attractive young woman and an old man were both standing at the door. When the subway came to a halt, the doors opened, and the man gestured for her to go first…


Old Man: After you, young lady.
Young Lady: Wow. Thank you!


She strolled happily through the door.

As she did so, the old man literally stared at her butt. He leaned down and looked at it.

I shook my head.

Hai-Kuul – February 22, 2006

This one needed two interpretations…


My Kingdom For a Package (Requested by jules)
I bide my sweet time
Doing a great job until
They say it’s my time


My Kingdom For a Package (Requested by jules)
My body feels wrong
I am a woman and yet
I need to be male





*Remember, you can submit a topic to inspire your very own Haiku Poem by clicking here. You can read about Hai-Kuul here.

Sorry Courtesy Remember

Sorry Doesn’t Make a Dead Man Alive

My dad used to say that to me when he didn’t think that I was sincere during an apology*.

It is one of those phrases that has stayed in the back of my mind over the years, resurfacing every once in a while when someone utters an insincere pleas for forgiveness.

This sprang to the front of my mind the other day when I was getting on the subway.

The train had just come to a stop and the doors opened. A young woman barrelled out of the car like a bat out of hell, nearly knocking over an older lady standing next to me.

Without even looking back, she muttered a quick sorry, speeding off to wherever the hell she was going.

Bewildered, the old lady shook her head and made her way into the subway**.

What is is with people these days?

Words like sorry and thank you are becoming trivialized by people who really don’t care about anyone.

I know when I apologize for anything, I make sure that the person knows that I really mean it. Same with everything else.

Far too many people put thank you or have a nice day at the end of their e-mails as part of their signature. As if having it there, pre-recorded, will make it mean something.

I figure if you are going to put those things, you should mean them. Otherwise, they are just empty gestures.



Courtesy

Ever have a really bad day, and then someone says something to set you off, and rather than keeping quiet, you actually let your tongue fly with abandon?

That happened to me a few weeks ago.

I was riding subway home, and the cars were relatively full. An older lady slowly made her way into the car, walking along with her cane.

Not one person offered her a place to sit.

Even worse, the last available seat was taken by a younger guy who actually pushed his way past her to get to it. The old woman looked stunned at this guy’s audacity.

What made this even more annoying is that I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine who told me that in her entire pregnancy, only one person offered her a seat***. The issue was fresh in my mind.

Though I normally would speak up in a situation like that, the mood I was in that day made me a little less patient…


Jorge: Hey dude. Maybe you should let the lady sit down.
Punk: [Doesn’t even look up.] Maybe you should just fuck off.
[People stop what they’re doing to listen to us chatting.]
J: It’s common courtesy to give the seat up to someone who might need it more than you.
P: Didn’t you hear what I just said? I got here first, anyway.
J: Yeah, but you’re not elderly, or pregnant. You’re also not disabled.
P: Nope.
J: You know, breaking your knees would probably earn you the right to sit there.
P: [Finally looks up at my not-so-pleased face.] Oh. Uh. Sorry man. Here you go, lady.
[Punk gets up, and the old lady sits down. She looks up and smiles.]
J: That’s a good lad.
[Punk makes his way through the crowd to the other end of the subway. Probably a good idea.]


Stories like that make me sound like I go around picking fights. But I’m not really a violent person. I find that some people just need a bit of a prod to gain a new perspective.

If he had a problem, or was looking really tired, then he probably could have remained there. That would make sense.

But he wasn’t tired or disabled in any way. He was also rude.

I don’t have patience for that.



The Things We Remember

It’s funny what sticks in your head from when you’re a kid.

I’ve been meaning to do a sketch of my friend Shatton as Iron Man, but I’ve been procrastinating. Last night, I printed up some pictured of Shatton and Iron Man so I can get to work on it sooner than later.

Recently, I was chatting with him about this when the conversation took a weird tangent. If you never went to Catholic church you may not understand this…



Click to enlarge…




* – At least, I suspect that was the reason. Maybe he had no reason to say it at all.
** – Of course, no one offered her a seat right away. When someone finally did, she waved them off. Her rejection of the offer was let go too easily for my liking.
*** – And he was visiting from Europe.

Unpossible Luck

Me Fail English? That’s Unpossible!

All is not well in the land of Canada. We have many people who, though they insist that they speak the English language, do no such thing.

I don’t know how many times I have heard people making fun of people from other countries for not speaking english properly.

This may be true in some cases.

People from here are no better.

Certainly typos are excusable, as they are made frequently* by us all. But what do you call it when people don’t say things properly? What if they mess up whole expressions?

I’ll share a line I heard the other day. It’s right up there with noo-cue-ler, foilage and irregardless

Oh, I don’t care. It’s all the same. Six and a half of one, a dozen of the other, you know what I mean?


Seriously**.

This makes me very unproud.



Good Luck to Des

A friend of mine is grading for his black belt tomorrow. I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish him well.

He’s a decent fellow. He’s brutally blunt, but makes no apologies. He’s also a great person, who would go an extra hundred miles for a friend.

If you have any positive words of wisdom for him, please write them as comments.

Truthfully, I don’t think he needs luck. He’s got what it takes.




* – I am notorious for typos. In fact, this is the 58th edit right now! It’s probably still wrong!
** – The actual phrase is six of one, half a dozen of the other. Last time I checked 6.5 does not equal 12.