Obesity… Is It Child Abuse?

So in case you haven’t heard… there is an issue in England right now about whether a child should be removed from his home and put into child care services because his mother is allowing him to become obese. The 8-year-old boy weighs 196 lbs. Which brings up an interesting question… is allowing your child to become obese essentially a form of child abuse?

It’s a tough one. In this particular case, the mother has sought help from professionals in trying to help her child to lose weight, but then has refused to implement their plans for doing so– putting a lock on the refrigerator door, and not feeding him junk food. Her argument is that the boy will only eat processed foods, will spit out fruits, vegetables, and healthy foods, so in an effort not to starve him, she allows him to eat the junk food. But come on… 196 lbs? That’s a lot of junk food even for an adult.

The women is obviously not doing everything she can to prevent the child’s obesity. If she refused to give him junk food, he would eventually get hungry enough that he would eat the fruit and vegetables. He won’t starve himself. She could also, for lack of a better term, force him, to get more physical activity by taking him to the swimming pool, going to the park with him, etc. He is apparently not getting much exercise, but at 196 lbs, it may be difficult for him to do much more than walk. But even going on walks with him would help.

Even if we agree there is more she could do, is allowing your child to overeat a form of abuse? It isn’t causing the child any physical pain– at least not now, although the onset of Diabetes is probably imminent. It isn’t causing the child any emotional pain directly– although chances are, he is alienated from other children daily because of his size… but children alienate each other for plenty of other reasons too. So is it abuse?

If it is abuse, then it follows the child should be removed from the home to prevent such abuse. But is it really better for a child to be taken from his mother and placed in foster care which is inherently traumatic for kids, especially if that mother is loving and nurturing in every other sense? Does that really benefit the child?

If it is abuse, then what criteria do we use to decipher abuse from a child who simply is overweight. Is there a height/weight scale? Who gets to come up with that? Do we just wait around for extreme cases like this and if it’s extreme enough that we all agree the child is obese, then we label that parent abusive?

Personally, I’m not sure what the best way is to deal with this. I would love to think that parents would do everything they can to make sure their children are healthy and have the means to integrate well with their peers. I’d like to think that parents would want to prevent Diabetes, joint problems, heart attacks in their kids. I would like to believe that an adult can look at their child, see what’s happening, and be the strong party that makes strides to improve it. But we can’t really assume adults will do that for themselves.

With all the debate about what constitutes abuse these days… this is definitely food for thought. Children can’t make these kinds of decisions for themselves. They rely on parents to decide what is okay for them to eat, just like parents decide when it’s okay to cross the street, or keep them from running up and trying to touch a stray dog. I realize a child may want to eat junk food instead of vegetables, but it’s a parent’s responsibility to limit how much junk food he/she can consume, and children will eat what they are taught to eat. A child who’s never had a McDonalds cheeseburger won’t demand that over a piece of fruit.

Small Cars and Why they SUCK

This weekend while on a typical trip to the movies to see “High Tension” (which sucked by the way.. – no big surprise considering Chrissy picked it)… anyway first off this movie was only playing at a shit theater, I’m not very particular about many things in life, but I do like going to the “White Peoples Mall – in Rancho Palos Vedas Estates” to see my movies, it’s less crowded and like the nickname suggests it’s mostly white people which is good if you want to watch a movie in peace and quiet.. (because all non-white people besides Asians are loud and obnoxious in theaters) anyway I was force to make a trip to the ghetto (the corner of PCH and Crenshaw) which just happens to be this fucking shopping center, with about a million parking place but not open one, so as I drove around I kept thinking oh there is a spot, but I went to turn in there would be some fucking ford fucas or some other similarly sized fucking car driving up my irritation level to unreasonable levels.. After about 4 failed attempts to park because of small cars.. it dawned on me that I HATE small cars.. and that we should ban them.. seriously they are very bad for Americans in the overall scheme of things, let me support my argument with just a few thoughts.. and apologizes in advance to my friends who drive small cars..

  • First they drive up health care costs because it makes people like me have high blood pressure when I can’t park in a spot that I thought was open
  • They encourage the use of gasoline instead of having America become less dependent on foreign fuels we are becoming more dependent and I think it will only get worst if everybody moves to these small cars! I mean if people stopped driving because they didn’t want to pay $4.00 for gas, you can be damn sure congress would figure out a way to make cars get 100 miles per gallon.
  • They are just plain un-American.. America is about over consumption, we like big, we like loud, we like being wasteful if you want to be about under consumption pull a David Chapel move to fucking Africa and starve.
  • Small cars are very “European”, last time I check besides England, the rest of Europe’s economies are in shambles.. So it doesn’t look like small cars helped them any.. and the only reason England is ok is because they speak English and they are our allies unlike those fucknuts in france… they can have their cheese, wine and small ass cars and I’ll keep my beer, fatty cheeseburgers and big gas guzzling cars.

So start acting like real American’s.. go buy a new Ford Mustang like Christine or a big ass truck and stop supporting this horrible trend of small high blood pressure inducing cars.

Child Molesters Rejoice

Wacko Jacko Removable Face

Today I was sadden to see that our legal system has failed us again. I think todays acquittal has set another sad and embarrassing precedence where a jury is infatuated with a fame when the evidence of guilt is overwhelming. On the bright side, I guess it is now OK to molest little boys and girls as long as you don’t rape them and cause damage you will never be found guilty, especially if you have a little dime.

Why Lady Bugs are my Arch Nemesis…

Some people are born lucky. I am not one of those people…

I think this post will prove that to anyone who might think otherwise. Every word of this is true. I am not embellishing this in anyway.

Something traumatic happened to me about two years ago. I thought I was over it, but I realized today that I’m not. Here’s what happened…

It was summer. I was at my mom’s house. She has a lot of pretty flowers and I had noticed a few days earlier that these plants had aphids. Aphids destroy plants and I didn’t want that to happen, so I went to the garden store with the intention of buying some sort of spray that would kill them. At the store, the garden guy suggested I buy a little plastic cup full of lady bugs and put them on the plants instead of spraying something that the cats might ingest. Good idea. So I bought the little lady bug biodome colony, went to my mom’s and put them on the plants. I have to admit that I watched with morbid curiosity as the lady bugs devoured the little green aphids… like people who crane their necks as they pass car wrecks, wondering if they’ll see something grotesque.

A few days later, I went to Mom’s and checked on the plants. No more aphids. I formally congratulated the lady bugs on their victory and then decided to lie down on my mom’s sofa and take a nap, not thinking anything of leaving the screen door open. The door is usually open to let the cats go in and out.

I woke up from my nap with the most God-awful pain in my left ear.

I bolted up, and stuck my finger in my ear as I shrieked like banshee. My mom came into the living room and asked what was wrong.

“Oh my god… there’s something in my ear…” I said as I heard a fluttering sound echo in my ear. It felt like it was coming from my throat. “Jesus Christ!”

My mother, God love her, said what she always said when I complained about something like this as a child… “There’s probably nothing in your ear.”

“No, Mom… there’s definitely something if my ear and fucking hurts!” Mom would know I was serious if I used the “f” word. I jumped up and shook my head like people do when they get out of a pool and have water in their ears. The buzzing/fluttering grew louder. Then I felt something moving down through the tubes in my ear, like a tiny ball of pain forcing open something that shouldn’t be open.

I slapped my hand aganst my neck near my jaw and pressed hard. The fluttering noise stopped abruptly. I felt a bump under my skin. Then it dawned on me…

“Oh God… there’s a bug in my ear!!!!”

Now, at this point, I didn’t realize it was a lady bug. For all I knew, it could have been a spider. I am deathly afraid of spiders. I prayed that I didn’t accidentally kill whatever it was in my Eustachian tube, impeding its ability to crawl out on its own. A bug is crawling inside me, I thought. Oh Jesus… my mind flashed to that movie with Claire Danes and her friend who get imprisoned in Singapore and a bug crawls in the girl’s ear and ruins her equilibrium forever. I start thinking about infections and emergency surgeries and hearing aids and stumbling around when I walk like I’m in a state of perpetual intoxication.

My mom says, “Well just lie down on that side and it will probably come out on its own.” It sometimes amazes me how a non-bug fearing woman like my mother could’ve somehow produced a daughter like me.

So I forced myself to move my hand and lie down. I could hear the fluttering start again. It wasn’t quite as rhythmic anymore. Thank God… it’s still alive. I began to try to communicate with it telepathically, repeating the mantra in my head… Come out of my ear… come out of my ear… you’re not happy in there… you don’t belong in there… you don’t belong in there…

Now, I don’t know how many people experience having bugs creep into orifices during their lifetimes, particular in the ear, but it’s really, really, really painful.

I stayed calm. My mom brought me some Q-Tips.

“I can’t use Q-Tips, Mom… I might poke him back down.” I don’t know what she was thinking… her first idea was better.

Now, for those of you who don’t know me, let me explain that I, at times, have a tendency to bring drama. Especially when an insect comes close enough to make contact. As I put my head down on the pillow, I worried that the bug might never come out. If a bug is that stupid to want to crawl into someone’s ear to begin with, it’s very likely it won’t be smart enough to crawl out. That particular bug simply doesn’t have the forethought to rectify this situation. Damn! How does this stuff happen to me???

So, to make a long story not quite so long… I forced myself to remain calm and listen to the fluttering sound until I couldn’t hear it anymore. Have I gotten so use to the pain and echo that I no longer am aware of it? I thought.

I sat up. Looked down. Sure enough, there was a lady bug on my pillow.

The little ear-cave expedition had taken its toll on him. He limped around in a circle on my pillow, it’s one wing jutting unnaturally from it’s little red back. I hate you, lady bug… I thought with all the anger and hostility that had been building to the sound of a crescendoing buzz. I hope you die…

I took the pillow outside and flicked him into eternity before closing the screen door. Sorry, cats. You’re not going outside today. At least not until all the lady bugs fly away looking for aphids on other peoples’ plants. The cats were supportive.

Today, I went outside and saw a lady bug on my porch. I realized that I’m not over this experience yet. I may be scarred for life. When the bugs that everyone teaches you are the good bugs– the ally bugs– turn against you, who can you trust??? Right? Right???

Double Deep Throats…

In 1973, the Senate shocked the nation by exposing the Watergate scandal via televised hearings that brought Nixon’s administration to it’s knees.
In 1973, the Cannes Film Festival featured the porn film “Deep Throat” that exposed Linda Lovelace’s affection for sucking large cocks while on her knees.

Coincidence #2.
In a scandalous display of corruption, producers who were also members of the Colombo crime family, squeezed the director out of the picture forcing him to give up his rights to the film’s profits.
In a scandalous display of corruption, Nixon’s administration was squeezed out one by one as the details of Watergate’s illegal wiretapping case began to unfold, forcing the president to give up his right to continue to represent the executive branch.

Coincidence #3.
Vanity Fair’s audience was excited when the story about W. Mark Felt’s secret identity finally came out.
The movie-going audience was very excited by the time Linda Lovelace finally came.

Coincidence #4.
Linda Lovelace testified before the Meese Commission that she was forced to have sex during the movie without her permission. The Meese Commission was appointed by Ronald Reagan.
W. Mark Felt was convicted of forcing his way into homes of suspected bombing suspects without search warrants or permission during an FBI investigation. Felt was pardoned by Ronald Reagan.

Bizarre or what??? I will continue to look for more coincidences between the two… at least until I get bored. ;-)