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The Obviousness of Brett Kavanaugh
                  by flynfinch - Sept 28, 2018

How subtly our world can distort what we are witness to.   What is so very obvious.

How it can make us think WE are the vandals of character for noting the overt harshness in others.  That WE are somehow misaligned in our compassion for calling out entitled self-indulgence.  That WE are somehow rude for bearing witness to incivility.
WE, who just happen to see a thing illuminated for what it is.  

I watched Dr. Ford. I watched Judge Kavanaugh.

I then watched the news.

I heard them call it a draw.  
I saw republicans exhale.  
"He said. She said." 
"They were both believable."  
"Equally credibly."  
"Each told their own truth."

Wait, what!? huh? Did YouTube live-stream an Oliver Stone adaptation of the hearing  with an alternate ending?  

What did everyone else see?

I went to bed a bit dazed, fighting back the apathy that inevitability brings.  Because of the drain of the hearing, yes.  But also because I felt like I was living in some universe that had forgotten the laws it was supposed to operate under. As if gravity had loosened its hold a bit and we were slightly less tethered to the ground below us.  

I then woke up thinking... THIS. IS. BULLSHIT.

And I re-watched Kavanaugh's testimony

I sat awed at the level of hostility and bluster that huffed out of him in all directions.   His willingness to push his anger OUTWARD to anyone in the frame of his pressured stare.
 
And in the dullest, smallest sort of way.  Like an angry 13 year old that lacks creativity and a good vocabulary.   Not a smart-ass.  Just an ass.

It was something I had seen before.  Many times before.  When prideful men get mad at the truth.  When they lie in the most outrageous sort of way that defies your own senses.  That momentarily baffles you into questioning yourself.

Everything is turned external.  All of the mess, all of the problem, all of the consequence, it is the fault of The Other.  Need not worry what precisely The Other is ... pointless really ... just note it exists, and it is capitalized as a proper noun.  

He is a martyr, and a very very loud martyr.  Falling on the sword of ... ???  I am still not entirely too sure what sword he thought he w...

 I find the thoughts expressed in the article and video below to be compelling.

The unbearable vulnerability of eating enough.
                       by Michelle @ fatnutritionist.com

If I were to pull a theme out of all the conversations I had about food and eating this summer, it would be black-and-white thinking. By that I mean, thinking in all-or-nothing terms, swinging between two extremes, and never pausing to consider the middle ground. In fact, actively resisting the middle ground.

There is so much black-and-white thinking about eating in our culture, that sometimes I start to wonder if we have an allergy to moderation. It seems that moderation (by which I mean: eating enough to feed your life, while respecting your body’s fullness signals) must be a place of intense vulnerability, or we would not avoid it with such urgency.

Some people restrict their food intake in order to give their bodies less than they need, and some people feed their bodies more than they have the capacity to process, and I think both sets of behaviors are encouraged by our culture in many ways.

Let me stop to define “eating moderately,” since we live in a cultural hellscape that takes words like this and redefines them to mean something like “eating less than you want or need and pretending it’s okay.” In my own life and in my work with clients, I’ve come to understand moderation as eating enough, and pleasurably enough, to be able to stop thinking about food for a while.

Eating moderately means your sensations of hunger go away for a bit, usually a few hours, and thoughts about food that are precursors to hunger (not hobbyist enthusiasm about food, and not the food preoccupation that is either a hallmark of long-term deprivation or a coping mechanism that has come to replace all other coping mechanisms) also cease. At the same time, you’re not troubled by the discomforts of over-fullness, or signs of physical distress that come with having eaten something that doesn’t agree with you, in a quantity your body can’t handle.

In this space of not-thinking-or-fantasizing-or-feeling-uncomfortable-about-food, there is room for thinking about, and doing, the things that make life meaningful.
In fact, I suspect that’s exactly where the vulnerability comes in: because if you’re not obsessing about food, either eating less of it than you need, or more than your body truly wants, what should you do?

It is a big, frightening question. Especially in a culture obsessed with careerism, credentialism, and “achievement” of a very specific and limited variety.

When I started this work, I didn’t realize this would be such a source of terror for people, and that, in order to avoid it, food obsession and disordered behaviour might rush in. But once I witnessed how often people actively resist eating in a way...