Let's just PINKY SWEAR and call it a day

The " PINKY SWEAR" is intended to seal a deal between two people and if one of the people breaks the deal, they have to cut their finger off. I do believe this could really fix the swearing to God ordeal.

Oh yea, they would have to state: "no crosses count; and that includes your toes "W."

Things that just FLOOR me – SWEARING TO GOD.

If the bible says do not swear on Gods name and the constitution says that there needs to be a separation of church and state, then why do we swear to God when someone is elected into public office? Or when we are sworn to tell the truth in court? This is violating the two areas that most people use to mold their lives. This whole topic came to fruition for me when one of my idiot friends started rambling on and on about Keith Ellison swearing in on the Koran when he was elected. First off, why rehash a two year old topic that has been over analyzed and its stupid. The whole topic is so much more complex than “keep it my way, because we’ve been doing it like that.” We shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.

His platform was something along the lines of: we shouldn’t have allowed him to take office if he was not going to adhere to our American belief system? He went on to say: America has always been” TO GOD.” I swear to God, in God we trust, etc… Well there is way more to this than that raggedy defense of his own comments. Unfortunately, way too many people think that one form of thought, for a long period of time, makes it the truth. Well it isn’t. To put it bluntly, we shouldn’t be swearing to god in any political forums. First, it undermines what God expects from us on that very bible he was talking about. “Swear not at all (Matt. v.34 AND James v.12). Second, the oath doesn’t require you to swear to God. That was an option that was started by George Washington.” Many people have done it but it has never been required. Just because we have done it for many years does not mean it is to be omnipotent. Slavery was around for many years and how messed up was that?

Anyone whose opinion is not reflected in the latter comments may want to review the First Amendment to the Constitution which protects the free exercise of religion. FIRST, not second, third or sixth but FIRST. You would think that was a little important. It also states the government can’t create a national religion. Many people focus too much on “create” and say that it hasn’t created a religion but the simplistic dictionary definition is not the case here. Just using the definition is stifling your brain. The statement has to mean something far greater than the obvious textbook answer. For this to have significance, it must mean that our government can’t endorse or support any religion. It can’t hinder it either, it simply needs to remain in the middle of the road; taking no sides. Let’s not forget Article IV, no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.

Even though many of the authors of the Constitution were Christians, they were Christians that knew what it felt like when government shoved religion down their throats. How they made them hide their true belief system or even punish them. This is probably why it is the FIRST Amendment. They wanted to create a secular government untainted by the massive problems that sectarian divisions, religious violence and Christian bigotry had inflicted on them in Europe.

If they wanted the oath to be only to a Christian God, it would have been so easy for them to say it. Instead, they used every measure to detour that way of thought. When the issue with the Quakers came about, they added affirmation. This clearly reflects that they had some form of judgment on this process and in favor of a secular government. If they wanted the bible in the constitution, they could have just used the bible to run the country. But I am sure they did not create the constitution because they felt as if they needed to improve upon the bible.

For argument sake, let’s just say that Ellison would not have sworn on the Koran and did it on the bible as other non Christians have done. Then he “swore to God.” What does this tell us about the oath itself and the way in which we view what an oath really means to us? If you are a Christian and you want a Muslim to swear on your Christian bible, don’t you think that is a little unholy? Do you even remember the Ten Commandments? “And ye shall not swear by my name falsely…”Lev. 19.12. I believe that is bearing false witness and taking his name in vein all rolled up in one dumb ass belief system. An oath was once considered the highest possible guarantor of truthful testimony from an individual. It is your personal testimony, to a power you believe to be greater than yourself, to show your community you are to be trusted. And some people want to incorporate a lie into our American oath in order for them to perpetuate their own religious agenda. Am I the only one who sees how freaking stupid this is?

In John 18:36 Jesus Christ says to Pontius Pilate that “My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.” And in Matthew 22:21, says “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.” NO MORE BIBLE QUOTES – I swear to God!

Now, let’s wrap up the whole God and the founders of the constitution thing. Jesus did not see tooling around in politics as being worthy of his righteousness. He was too busy preparing people for the afterlife. Jefferson saw religion as inherently corrosive to government. The only issue he had was assuming the average person had more brain activity than they really did. Throw in bible thumping and the cells die off even quicker.

With all this good stuff on swearing to God and what an oath should be, let’s look at what the oaths to God have been in the past. If this is so important to all the Christian bible thumpers who are in fear of losing control of “their government” we need to go a little further.
Do we really need to defend God’s supposed place in the constitution or do we need to defend the constitution from the very people swearing to God? The constitution has never really needed defending. Not until now. Warrentless searches, wiretapping, torture in the name of national security, top government officials lying about facts to go to war, and the list goes on and on. The actual oath has each and every one of these officials swearing to uphold the constitution. Here is the actual oath for the president: "I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." Well we all know he isn’t living up to this.

The one that really gets me is the one taken by all US Senators: I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. The reason why the US Senators oath gets me even more is there are so many more of them. As far as the president’s oath goes, maybe “W” is just too dumb. But this can not be the reason for everyone else. It has to be an error in our system; complacency in our lives and the American dream. Problems that have been going on were never defended until recently and only because it began affecting a lot more people. But this is another blog.

Both of these oaths give you no choice but to defend the constitution from both foreign and DOMESTIC. Your oath does not mention you can defend the Constitution only when it fits your political agenda; or only if it doesn’t cause you political suicide. You do it because you swore to YOUR God that you would do it. The founding fathers made defending the Constitution such a big part because they understood the natural tendency of political systems to descend into tyranny. By this wonderful and important piece of our American legacy, the founding fathers wanted to leave us a form of protection to remain free citizens against the unchecked power of the tyrant.

We shouldn’t have a problem with a political figure placing a hand on a book, bible, Koran, or simple raising your hand to your heart. They are nothing more than a public gesture assuring those onlookers that “I” can be trusted because I am swearing on something I deem important to my morale character. Those gestures do not ensure the truth has happened or will happen. The real way to get the truth lies in our hands. It lies in the community, the jury of peers, and others whose job it is to decide if this person, who took this oath, is living up to their duties. The outcomes of the duties preformed are far more important than the meaningless gestures that proceed them.

Things that IRRITATE me – The quick rundown.

DRIVING

+ People who drive junk cars and park next to my new car.

+ People who park at and angle in the parking stall or even worse, think their car is so great they take up two spots.

+ Leaving you car signals on and your not turning or changing lanes.

+ Not using you turn signals as if it’s so hard or time consuming.

+ People that pull out in front of me on the highway then go 25 mph and there is no one behind me.

+ Car stereos that are so loud it rattles my car windows and it’s always the WORST music.

+ Men that honk their horns at me in their cars expecting me to pull over like I am some sort of floozy.

POLITICAL

+ Palin speeches. They make me cringe as to moronic statement she is going to say.

+ You are watching your favorite TV show and the show is interrupted due to “Breaking” news that all Americans must know right now. Then it’s Bush making a speech.

+ People that are so blindly Republican or Democrat that they cannot see anything good in another party or anything bad in their own.

+ The term “God Bless America.” God loves everyone; not Just America. God even loves the ones we hate.

+ Watching celebrities speak to us about their political views and why we should vote; their usually the ones without Academy Awards.

PERSON TO PERSON

+ People who ask, “Can I as you a question?” You already did now go away with all your stupid questions.

+ Asking your loved ones how you look? Sometimes that is just not right. If you look good then fine, but what if you don’t? Trouble.

+ Calling your loved one by a baby name and they respond in baby talk. You look stupid and the people around you feel the pain you’re not feeling and should be feeling. It’s just wrong.

+ Walking through the halls at work and greeting a coworker with “Hi, how are you today?” And they begin to tell you. My suggestion to this is “Hi.” Then look at your watch then walk faster.

+ When someone asks you the time and point to their watch as to suggest we are unaware where our watches are located. Hello! We are the ones with the watches.

+ People that tell me they are 110% sure of a fact. Well if you are going to restructure the percentage structure why not 120%, 200% or how about infinity%. Keep it at 100% or show me your new graphing model so I know where you stand.

GENERAL

+ People with unnaturally white teeth. It's just not normal and it scares me.

+ Male models today. Can we see their faces without their abs showing? Were men handsome before the advent of super freak abs?

+ I hate it when I am just starting something and someone tells me to do it. It almost makes me want to stop doing what I had already begun before they told me to do it.

+ When I am standing in line and I have three lines to pick from and I pick the slowest. I shouldn’t look at the other lines and compare but I have nothing but time when I am standing behind the coupon queen of North America.

+ Making a doctors appointment over a month ago and I have to wait 45 minutes in the waiting room. Followed by a $25 dollar co pay and all I got was a prescription for estrogen patches to control my heat flashes and mood swings. I REALLY HATE THAT ONE!

+ When a telemarketer calls me at 9:15pm and SVU just got interrupted with a George Bush speech. My cat just threw up on my new shoes and I just realized that noise I just heard was a coke I left in the freezer that just exploded. This one really irritates me.

+ Finding out that I couldn't do whatever I wanted when I got my own place like my parents had told me for years.

+ The dog barking in the back yard of my neighbors house, RIGHT NOW!

Things that IRRITATE me – There fault or my fault.

Things that irritate me are often because of other peoples stupid actions but mostly it’s the fault of ole Allison herself. The following is a list of things that irritate me and let’s see if you can identify with any of them. (only three this blog).

I can’t stand when someone is walking through a pedestrian crossing when I am waiting to turn on a green light. Now, I also can’t stand when someone is getting irritated at me when “I” am walking through a crosswalk and they need to turn. That sounds self centered but it does not come without justification. When “I” walk though a crosswalk and someone is waiting to turn, I walk as quickly as possible; without running. I end my crosswalk journey with a gracious wave to the waiting driver acknowledging his suffering. A way to say thank you for all the time he has wasted waiting for my manual transportation to kick in. That is the least I could expect for when “I” am now the waiting driver. But noooooooooooooo. I get the “I have the right of way” person who saunters slowly through the crosswalk. They are showing me that they can do as they please because they have the right of way and I can do nothing about it. And they do get to do that and I can do nothing about it. That just pisses me off. (THERE FAULT)

I need to get up Monday morning at 5am and I usually get up around 8am. I can usually get up at 8am on my own body alarm so I set my cell phone alarm for 5am. My cell phone alarm is the bomb. It’s loud and never lets me down during a power surge or a power outage. It goes off with a hitch. Monday morning I roll over in bed, hit one ten minute snooze button. Ten minutes later it goes off again without a hitch. This time I hit the dismiss button. Everything worked out fine and nothing could be wrong, right? Wrong. Tuesday morning I am ripped from my REM dream state by the ring tone “Calypso.” I had forgotten to turn the stupid thing back to off mode. Well I roll over and hit the dismiss button. I intend to change the alarm settings in my phone when I get up. It’s Wednesday morning and I am torn from the winning lottery ticket in my dreams when the horrible sounds of that “Calypso” start pelting my brain. If anyone knows anything about the brain you will know that sound is interpreted in the brain by measurements of sound called patterns. These patterns are interpreted by one part of the brain and another part of the brain assigns meaning to that sound. I say dog, it’s a pattern of sound. But at a different level it triggers a picture of a dog. Easy enough right? Needless to say, the next morning the alarm went again. I was awakened from a dream where I was trapped on deserted island run by someone who made me there slave. I had just read an article online about Calypso and Odysseus and wondered if this was why. Is it going to be that every time I hear Calypso I will be assigning my brain to being a slave like Odysseus? (MY FAULT)

Next, the dreaded driving slow in the fast lane. Remember when the fast lane used to be called the PASSING LANE! I am sure that is the cause of most of the road rage on this planet, by far. I mean “PLANET” people. I can almost see Yuri on the streets of Kiev screaming “Отодвиньтесь”, Marcela in Rio de Janeiro yelling “Mova”, or Claus, from Hamburg, trying to make it to work on time screaming “Bewegen Sie über.” Anywhere you go; there will be people who are driving slowly in the PASSING LANE. People just do not understand the reasoning behind passing lanes. It is not intended to promote speeding. Say you are behind a truck in a 65 mph zone. You are going 65mph but you do not want to be behind the truck because of the visibility factor. You want and probably should, pass the truck going 70 mph to regain your visibility. Oh, but what if someone is in the passing lane. They still do not understand that this is the passing lane. You can not get your visibility back and you’re paying for it too. (Will discuss this later) I am not suggesting that everyone go out and speed but the mph is put out by the state for a reason and it’s not so they can get money on speeding tickets. The theory behind mph goes something like this. Every year millions and millions of your tax dollars are spent rating highways for your safety. They look at the road itself, its angles, forward visibility (day and night), amount of drivers per day, times, etc… Then they assign a mph for your safety. Let me get this straight: My money (taxes) goes to make the roads, fix the roads, access the roads, and then police the roads. Then I can get ticketed on them too. All I can say is this. If I need to pass someone and someone is driving slowly in the fast lane the scenario will go something like this. Get the hell out of my passing lane, you bitch, or I will run your ass over. (THERE FAULT)

Things that CHANGED me

I came across a story I had written over seventeen years ago that I totally forgot I wrote. It’s a story about prejudice and how I viewed myself. I am going to write it verbatim so my writing skills may have been a little rough around the edges but here goes. The story is titled:

Am I Prejudice

It’s really hard to understand prejudice when you’re white and from the south. I always thought I understood. I had black friends, I was never mean to black people and I always treated black people as I would like to be treated. I did hear black jokes that I thought were funny but I would never tell one. “It’s just a joke anyway”, I would think. But I ways always taught to treat people the way you would like to be treated. This is the way I was brought up and this is how I viewed my life. This is not just extended to black people but rather to all ethnic groups. Now you must realize that I was a white girl from a nice neighborhood and went to a nice all girl catholic school. A school which, out of 250 girls from 9th to 12th grade, were all white with the exception of 1 black girl in each grade. The question I ask myself is “Am I prejudice or did I even have to deal with it?” Oh yes, I almost forgot, we did have one Chinese girl and I am not even sure if she was Chinese. She could have been of any Asian decent, because I certainly had no idea. I was even less educated on my Asian ethnic backgrounds. I thought, “If everyone is nice to non white people then there is no prejudice. God was I dumb! Realization of prejudice never really hit me until I moved to Hawaii.

When I first moved to Hawaii in October of 1990, I was loving life. I walked off of the airplane into the airport and into the fresh scent of flowers everywhere in the air. A lei was wrapped around my neck, followed by a small kiss on the cheek to show aloha. This was the life. I had a job, a place to stay, a whole month off before starting work and a small wad of party cash. I was set for adventure.

My first month there, I did it all. I went to see Don Ho, the Polynesian Cultural Center, Germaines Luau, jumped off the rock at Waimaia and numerous other tourist activities. I started work in November and all I did was work and relax for a while. Then some newly acquainted friends and I decided to go to the state fair at Aloha Stadium. We were going to ride a few rides, eat some junk food and waste some money trying to get junk stuffed animals at some game booths. As we were walking to the entrance of the fair we were jumped by a group of locals. They were all laughing and screaming, “get the blonde haoles.” They proceeded to let our friends with the darker hair go and only attack my friend and I. Why you might ask? Because we had blonde hair, of course. We finally got away from them and took off running to the entrance of the fair. Both of us were pretty shaken, bruised up and had bloody noses. We were both clueless as to why this happened to us. We called the police and made a report, however, no one was arrested. By the time the police got there, the group of locals was gone. They asked us for a description but I couldn’t tell them much because they all looked alike. Years later, I could have given a description, but then I could not have.

The following day at work, I was telling my coworkers about what had happened at the fair and none of them were shocked. They informed me of the prejudice that some locals had towards the haoles. I was just floored by what they were telling me. Why did they not like me? I never did anything to them. None the less, they did not like me due to the color of my skin and the color of my hair. I just had to accept these things, learn how to avoid these situations and deal with it. This had to mean that many of the black people that I knew had to go through the very same thing. Knowing where the right places to go are when you are people of color; me, white Allison, a person of color. Go figure. There were just some places that you did not go as a white person in Hawaii. PERIOD! And all because of what some white people did to the locals a hundred years or so ago; before I got there.

Years have gone by and I have come to realize the ways to survive as a white person in Hawaii. Now, I don’t mean to insinuate that evil locals are lurking around every corner of this island, but rather to express that there is a certain amount of prejudice here. Anyone who has lived here a while knows what I am talking about. There are just some places and some things that you just do not do. So I alter my life to avoid confrontation.

This all brings me back to the beginning of the story. Is simply being nice to people that are different than you, not being prejudice? If a local person does not take part in slanderous remarks about white people, but finds the remarks somewhat funny, do they consider themselves prejudice? If I don’t tell a racial joke but listen to one and find it funny, am I prejudice? I guess what I am trying to say is that we are all prejudice in one way of another if we entertain these types of behavior. We don’t have to be wearing KKK clothing and be burning crosses in people’s front lawns to be prejudice. When you say something about someone that they cannot change, to do nothing more that to hurt them, you are prejudice.

Would I have learned this had I not moved here? I can’t say for sure but I doubt it. I came to Hawaii to live in paradise, work and live my life as I would anywhere else. I guess I am realizing that had I not moved here I would have never known this side of prejudice. These things do not happen to white girls in Louisiana because I am part of the majority. I am not longer the majority here. When I return to Louisiana one day, I am sure I will be returning a changed woman. I have felt prejudice because of nothing more then the color of my skin. This should be a lesson for some people I know of all colors everywhere.

Things that feel good to me

There are many things that feel good to me but I am going to focus on just one. The big one. The one I love the most. The one that brings me the most joy, the most happiness and ultimately causes me the most sadness. Getting a tickle.

There are many ways to get a tickle. You can get it on your back, your leg, your arm, or wherever you like. You can get it fast, slow, hard or soft. You can get it with hands or objects. It can be scratching or rubbing. The way in which a tickle is given depends solely on the recipient. I like my tickle slow, on the shoulders and down the center of my back. DO NOT go to the sides because they are off limits. I am too ticklish and you'll screw it all up. Because tickling involves trust and once you cross the borders, it’s all over.

Back tickling is a gift from God, my friend. I love me some back tickle and don’t think I don’t. Fulfilling my need for back tickle time is very similar to filling the Pacific Ocean with an eye dropper. This was told to me by someone that I over extended in the back tickling department. Unfortunately, over the years I have become a tickle whore. I will do just about anything for a quickie. A quickie is the one that sends me back in time. It’s on my arm and that is what my mother use to do for me in the mornings before school. I was hooked. When I started thinking about this, I thought I would write my mother a nice story. A story about tickling my arm and what it meant to me growing up. It was very nice and was meant to show her what a happy memory of my childhood she had given to me. Below is what I wrote to her and her response to this was, “I was not a fang dripping monster.” I said, “Is that all you got out of this?” She laughed and said no. But she had to put a dig into me because we’re southern and that’s how we roll.

My Mom’s Tickle

At the break of dawn, the lights go on
A soft spoken woman gently whispers, “Honey, it’s time to get up
My body proceeds to the bedroom door
Stopping just at the door
The switch goes off and I’m back in bed

The previously soft spoken women switches the light on again
In a regular voice she says, “It’s time for school – get up.”
My body proceeds to the bedroom door
Stopping just at the door
The switch goes off and I’m back in bed

The lights go on once again and I open my eyes
Now standing before me is a demonic fang dripping monster
“Get up right NOW! You’re late for school! Don't make me come in here again!”
Now my school day starts off bad

Later that night, while we were eating at the bargaining table
A deal had been made
A five minute tickle of the arm
Is the amendment to the getting up deal

Get up at first light
And the pleasure will be yours
I saw no choice
So I accepted the deal

Thirty years later I reflect on the past
Amendments I’ve known are long since gone
Gentle words to the one I love
“Just for five minutes, please tickle my arm.”

Fifty percent it will be a yes
Followed by unwilling rubbing and touching
Realization has now set in
Tickles I knew are gone

Because only one really knows
How tickling my arm is suppose to go

So remember, when someone asks you to give them a tickle, do it. Do it because there is usually more in that tickle then you know.

Things that HAVE STUCK WITH me - Bathroom graffiti blurbs

Here are some of my favorite bathroom graffiti blurbs I have accumulated over the years. I have categorized them into the following genres:

MEN
No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick of her shit.
You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her drink.
Don’t trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die.

WOMEN
The best way to a mans heart is to saw through his breastplate.
Be nice to your children, they pick your nursing home.
Of course God created man before woman. All good creators make a rough draft before the final masterpiece.

SOCIAL
Necrophilia means never saying you’re sorry.
Beauty is only a light away.
Remember, it’s not, “How high you are?” It’s “Hi, how are you.”

POLITICAL
Fighting for peace is like fighting for virginity.
It voting could really change things, it would be illegal.
If pro is the opposite of con, what is the opposite of progress?
Make love, not war. Hell, do both. Get married.

PHILOSOPHICAL
The closest we come to perfection is when we write our resumes.
Dyslexics of the world, Untie!
I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.
Imagine what would happen if the whole world farted at once.

Well everybody, these are my favorites. Please feel free to let me know any others you deem funny. I am always open for a little enlightenment.

Things that INTRIGUE me - A Brief Look at Bathroom Graffitti (PART II)

A man recalls his first bathroom scribbling from the fourth grade. A pictorial of what he “knew” women’s breasts to be. He drew a rounded “W” with two dots. It was the excitement of doing something he knew was wrong and incorporating nudity only thrust him further into the experience. He was hooked. Every stall he entered became a tagging playground to be marked with his artistic style. He was sure he was passing his images to others who needed his expertise.

Eventually he graduated from the rounded “W” with two dots and moved on to curse words; the obvious move. These curse words were used with the intent to defame others and occasionally the ones he loved. Arising from the depths of his psyche came, “Mary’s good in bed,” and “for a good time call Sue.” Many years have gone by and he has since forgotten Sue’s number. He’s also positive he didn’t sleep with Mary. After the fourth grade he doesn’t recall much scribbling but he still enjoys a good read now and again.

How about this one? Did you know that John loves Connie? She didn’t. Not until she read it on the bathroom wall at her local watering hole. She was happy to gain this insight and looked for John for months. With no avail, she moved on. But what was it that intrigued her?

It intrigued her because she wondered, “Who is this John fellow?” It confused her, “Where is he?” It angered her. “Not again!” It informed the general public that John loved Connie but why is Connie still single with all this love?

Who wrote this about Connie? Was it love or was it mockery? It could have been a totally different Connie or it could have been Connie herself. She could have written it herself in an attempt to spark a conversation of this “love” in front of her friends. Without the use of Chinese torture no one could ever know.

To me, bathroom graffiti is a form of art that is sometimes vulgar but within the vulgarity lie some form of truth. Maybe it is a window into the thoughts of others from different walks of life.

Sometimes one picture can lead to the modification of that picture. To one, the picture was accurate. To another, the picture needed a little something extra. To yet another, the picture needed something taken out. It is a type of art that allows influences from all sorts of personalities.

Years ago I went to a restaurant/bar where a one man band played every Thursday. The one man band was named after the singer; Frank Fairbanks. A woman who came every Thursday would take the liberty to sing the same three songs every week. Now this was not Karaoke but he let her do it as a kind gesture. Her name was Fran and she was the worst singer. But after a few cocktails, she felt like Mariah Carey. It was just horrible. No one dared approach Fran because that would be rude and they would be singled out. However, in the bathroom we can do as we please and no one would be the wiser. So, the bathroom walls soon reflected the feeling of the patrons.

There on the wall started a simple statement expressing the joy Frank gave everyone. “Frank Fairbanks RULEZ!” by an unknown author. After a few Fran episodes, someone went into the bathroom and crossed out the K in Frank and added a D before rulez. Then it read “Fran Fairbanks Drulez!”

After a few months of adding comments and taking out comments, the quote ending up stating, “Fran Fairbanks Drules and everybody knows, quit singing cause you suck, get a life butt wipe.” Then they painted the bathroom.

For many centuries, art has been celebrated. Every art form imaginable has been on exhibit in some form of viewing. From art galleries to living room walls, art has been present. Art is all over the place. Just because an artist uses a bridge, a building wall or even a bathroom stall, instead of a canvas, does not make it any less artistic. Bathroom graffiti is, and always has been, an art genre all to itself.

Bathroom graffiti is as much a visual art and it is a mental art. Mental art being, the spark of ones imagination through no process of their own. Something planted without them even knowing.

When we reflect back in time, we see great artists, writers and quote makers. Where are our modern day Picasso’s, Shakespeare’s, and Churchill’s? They’re in the can, informing the world of the next great tragedy, comedy, or hidden truth.

Winston Churchill’s dislike of George Bernard Shaw, and vice versa, was apparent in their actions. Could they have used the bathroom walls for their bickering? For example, on Shaw’s opening of the play Pygmalion, the prelude to My Fair Lady, he sent Churchill two tickets to his play. Here are two tickets to the opening of my play and you can bring a friend, if you have one, Shaw said. Churchill replied, I am unable to attend the opening of your play but I can attend another night, if you have one. This could have easily been stated on the bathroom stalls. These two men are brought back to the level of childhood with one meaningless phrase tacked onto the end of an extension of hospitality. Again, should have been on the bathroom walls and no one would have been the wiser.

Many scholars have researched this subject by conducting a myriad of experiments. Most of these experiments test hypothesis’ that show a clear division in gender. They were exploring the bathroom graffiti from male to female, educated to more educated, level of acceptability, and so forth. The levels to which we conduct these experiments are limitless.

Bathroom graffiti can tell a great deal of how our society is functioning. It let’s everyone know what’s on our minds? Are we worried about whose dating who, getting the latest dig on a person who irk’s us, expressing a saying we want to share but are afraid to say it, drawing a pictorial of our boss, expressing a belief system we would never let other know we have, etc…

If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat. This is a bathroom scribbling many have come to know and love; a bit trite, but known by most. When we look beyond these words, we can see a bit of our own social reality. Bathroom graffiti is a bit of information from one mind into the mind of another, perpetuating old beliefs and passing on new ones.

Things that INTRIGUE me - A Brief Look at Bathroom Graffitti (PART I)

When a man talks dirty to a woman, it’s sexual harassment. When a woman talks dirty to a man, it’s $3.95 a minute. Bathroom graffiti has been a source of reading material for people for many years and it’s free. However, some people find bathroom graffiti to be a problem. Establishment owners view it as vandalism and moral patrons view it as vulgar. Is it really a problem?

Bathroom graffiti has entertained us through a vast array of emotions. It intrigues us, confuses us, and informs us. We can say whatever we want, about anyone we want and no one can see. Bathroom wall scribbling are the true reflections of what people are really thinking.

Bathroom graffiti is a form of news that reflects our lives without bias. It is represented from a cross section of a population. We can learn a great deal about the world around us by reading the bathroom walls.

This topic is something everyone can relate to in one way or another. Someone has either read or written some type of bathroom graffiti. I have been a connoisseur of this art form for many years now and I have accumulated the “best of the best” bathroom sayings. I have delved into what they must have been thinking and have interviewed many actual bathroom scribblers.

Graffiti has been around as long as buildings have been erected, as long as there has been controversy, and as long as there has been social discontentment. Why has it existed for so long? Because one can express their innermost self and no one can see. Emotions bottled up in the most respectable looking patron, comes out in the can.

A man in an Armani suit, in his late 40’s and a stone cold face, enters the bathroom. He heads for the first stall and closes the door. He breaks out his new Cross Morph pen and begins contemplating life. As an impulse he cannot control enters his body he scribbles, “God made pot. Man made beer. Who do you trust?” His time is up and he needs to exit the stall. He composes himself and leaves without a care in the world.

As he is leaving the bathroom, he sees a blue-collar looking man walk in after him. He has on a t-shirt, jeans and a ball cap. He enters the same bathroom stall. Does he scribble on the wall? We will never know but the businessman thinks to himself, “If this scribbling was revealed to the owner, who would get them blame?” He chuckles and thinks, “Life isn’t fair.”

Maybe his crudeness was a sign of the times and that our actions are viewed as wrong only if we get caught. People who scribble on walls are not vandalizers until they get caught.

Is it anti-social behavior to people who have been denied a creative outlet? Maybe that businessman had to conform to society too early, as do many of us, and this is the only place he feels he can express himself freely. Or is it a clue into the minds of others, into what our culture is about or is about to become. Within the graffiti riddled walls lies the sweet history of mankind. Roughly quoting a deep thought by Jack Handy, “maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: MANKIND. Basically, it is made up of two words – mank and ind. What do these two words mean? It’s a mystery and so is mankind.” (Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy)

With all this in mind, I set out to find more scribblers and see what’ really going on.

To Be Continued.