Why Do We Obsess?

Humans have roughly 85 years on this planet. That is 31,025 days. 744,600 hours. 44,676,000 minutes. 2,680,560,000 seconds.

Life goes quickly, much quicker than we realize, and when we arrive on our deathbed, perhaps we may look back and wonder why we lived life the way we did. If it all ends anyway, why follow rules? Why follow regimens? Why have structure?

And why do we allow things to bother us to the point of obsession? Consider how long the average person obsesses over something. Maybe like…two days. Two days is .005% of a year. So if you consider that, this means that you are spending .oo5% of your life obsessing over stuff.

But let’s jump that number up a bit. Let’s say you spend…six months obsessing over stuff every year.

This means that you have spent 24% of your life span obsessing. If I did the math right, which I probably didn’t. But I digress. We all spend unhealthy amounts of time obsessing over stuff.

From Psychology Today:

At its worst, obsession is an iron mask that permits us to gaze in only one direction at one thing—or, to use another metaphor, a giant tidal wave that crashes through our minds and washes away all other concerns. We may become obsessed with a person, a place, a goal, a subject—but obsession amounts to the same thing in all cases: addiction.

At first, like all addictions, obsession is intoxicating. It fills us up, and what a relief that feeling is (especially if we felt empty before). But even if we didn’t feel empty, obsession makes us feel potent, capable, and purposeful.

But also like all addictions, with time obsession unbalances us. We often begin to neglect parts of our lives we shouldn’t. If allowed to become too consuming, obsession causes us to devalue important dimensions of our lives and tolerate their atrophy and even their collapse. But even if our lives remain in balance, if the object of our obsession is taken from us, as my patient’s was from her, we find ourselves devastated, often convinced we’ve lost our last chance at happiness.

So, the only question that probably remains is this:

Are you obsessing over something that will do good for your life, or are you obsessing over something purely negative that will get you nowhere?

If your answer is the latter, perhaps reevaluate how you want your life to look when you do that deathbed review.




The Monster We Aren’t Talking About


In Spanish, they think of words as masculine and feminine, with either an -a or an -o attached to the end of the word. In English, we also think of words as masculine or feminine, but we do it less explicitly and with a lot more ignorance.

Violence, from the creation of the word, all the way until today, June 27th, 2019, has always had an implied “male” preceding it. Male violence.

Consider human history. We, at our core nature, are creatures of difference, and because of that, we will always be creatures of conflict. We like to promote the idea of unity in humanity. It’s a nice idea if you look at it from the bigger picture, but when you zoom in, you start to see the cracks.

Humans are not capable of recognizing and accepting differences in others, so they either run in the other direction and promote hand holding kumbaya, or…they murder. See the two extremes? Ideally, if someone believes something different (providing they don’t “believe something different” in the same way that Hitler did), the person discovering this would shrug and go “oh, ok” and they would either respectfully discuss it or move on.

But…no. Instead, if they ask “Do you believe in God?” your goddamn answer had better be the one they are looking for, otherwise you might get shot.

A person who gets offended by differing beliefs sees those differing beliefs as a threat…for some reason. Extremist religious folks see homosexuals as a threat. Religions see other religions as a threat. Old Farmer Dick down the street sees his neighbor’s Ford truck, and since Old Farmer Dick likes Chevy, fuck Neighbor Steve and his Ford. He hates Steve.

But…what, exactly, do the extremists think homosexuals are going to do to them? Come into their house in the middle of the night and spastically lick them? Give them random strip teases to Prince? And most of the damn religions believe in the same man upstairs, so what does it matter how they arrive at that belief?

And why is Old Farmer Dick even concerned with Steve’s Ford? Is Steve’s Ford going to turn into a Transformer and destroy Dick’s farmhouse?

You had better believe the same things I believe, or I hate you and want you dead.

Violence isn’t the answer. You hear that a lot.

Except, for 90% of the people in the world, violence is, in fact, the answer.

There have been well over 30,000 battles in the course of human history, and almost as many casualties as the Earth’s current population.

This is where the issue I am talking about today is rooted in. Because, if you consider all of those wars and battles, which gender was fighting?

Men. Wars and battles were fought by men. Guns were shot by men, swords were swung by men, orders to bomb were signed by men, orders to invade were given by men.

So, with so much reinforcement, the idea that violence is only perpetrated by men is one that is easily normalized and accepted.

Even ignoring the real violence, consider action films.

The Gladiator. Braveheart. Die Hard. The Terminator. Raiders of the Lost Ark. First Blood. The Predator. Speed. The Bourne Films. Lethal Weapon. Taken. Face/Off. John Wick. Point Break. Commando. 300. Dirty Harry. Robocop. Heat. Jaws. 

All with big strong men doing big strong things with big strong guns. Sure, there have been a peppering of action films with females, like Kill Bill and Alien.

But those aren’t what you think of when you hear action film, and women aren’t what you think of when you hear violence.

Male violence is loud. They go to war.

Consider this. You have two people in a bar. One of them is standing on top of the counter waving a machete around screaming “I’ll kill the next motherfucker who comes in here”, and the other one is silently creeping behind the counter to kill the bartender. Who is the man and who is the woman?

If you said the man is machete-waver, you would be correct.

Female violence is quiet. They methodically murder family members by poisoning their soup. You don’t really hear about female violence because it is easy to ignore. Women don’t go to war, women don’t murder half of a neighborhood during a gang shootout, women don’t decide they hate Jews and exterminate seven million people.

That is because women are three things when it comes to their violence. Personal, purposeful, and premeditating. They almost always kill someone who has disrupted their personal life, they usually want to kill that person, and they think about how they are going to do it. 

Sure, there are some crossovers between the genders. Some men are premeditating, like Ted Bundy, and some women kill on impulse. But on the large scale…

On the large scale, men want to kill an entire country, and women want to kill their cheating husbands.

So that brings us to the question of why female violence is not only forgotten about, but when it is brought up, completely and utterly denied.

And the answer to that question lies in third wave feminism, which has taught us to hate men because they are rabid monsters, and love women, because they are shining angels of hope.

Evidently they have chosen to believe that Gertrude Baniszewski, Aileen Wuornos, Jodi Arias, Nannie Doss, Andrea Yates, Patty Hearst, The Manson Women, Stacey Castor, Elizabeth Bathory, Amelia Dyer, and Delfina and Maria de Jesus Gonzales are fairy-tale characters.

Let me give you a brief summary of just a few of these women.

Gertrude imprisoned a young teenager by the name of Sylvia Likens in her basement and tortured her to death with the help of half the neighborhood kids.

Aileen Wuornos murdered seven men. Jodi Arias murdered her boyfriend. Nannie Doss, A.K.A the giggling granny, murdered nearly her entire family. Elizabeth Bathory murdered nearly 800 young women.

Yeah, eight hundred.

But feminists don’t want to acknowledge that any of that happened, because then they have to acknowledge that females can be bad. And females are never bad.

Except females are bad a lot.

Let’s talk about females who commit domestic violence, since third wave feminists pretend that doesn’t happen either. Either that, or they just refer to those women as “feisty” or “strong”.

Alex Skeel was nearly killed by his girlfriend. Johnny Depp was nearly killed by Amber Heard. More than 45% of domestic violence cases are suggested to be women on men. You don’t hear about them because men don’t want to come forward…for, well, actually the same reason that women don’t want to come forward…with an added bonus.

Men don’t want to come forward because they won’t be believed, and on top of not being believed, they will be told it’s their fault, or they are the ones that were abusive.

That’s right, if a man comes forward and claims he was abused…if there is even ONE bruise on the women from the man’s self defense, NOPE the man was abusive case closed.

Feminists think feminism means MEN SCARY and WOMEN WEAK. Women would NEVER hurt a man, and not only that, they aren’t capable of hurting a man.

And they get away with peddling this narrative because violence, like I have proven, continues to be a male thing, not a people thing.

We need to start recognizing it as a people thing.

We need to remember the definition of real feminism:

Feminism is a range of political movements, ideologies, and social movements that share a common goal: to define, establish, and achieve the political, economic, personal, and social equality of the genders.

We need to recognize that machete-waver and counter-sneaker are equally violent.

We need to recognize that women can hurt their partners just as easily as men can, and we need to stop letting them do it.



I’m looking out my window right now at a tall gray water tower, a gray sky that quietly speaks of rain, and a lot full of fast-moving machines. My neck is starting to ache from the awkward angle, but I barely realize it. All I can absorb is the melancholy of the day, the vastness of the world outside…and the absolute uncertainty of my life.

A slight headache is starting to throb in my head, and I do notice that…but barely. The thoughts narrowly missing each other as they race back and forth mask it for the most part.

I think about everything. I think about the red flashing light on my work phone that has been flashing for almost a year because I never bothered to check the welcome message on my voicemail. I think about where I am in life…a 27-year-old sitting at a desk staring at a computer screen in an office with 47 other people doing the same exact thing.

I think about the jar of peanuts next to me that I got at the sporting goods store…they are called ‘Peanuts from Hell’, and after having tasted a few of them, I can confidently say that they deserve the name.

I consider whether wondering and thinking are the same thing…wondering kind of has a peaceful innocent connotation to it, while thinking, thinking is technical, cold…mechanical.

Wondering can take you to many magnificent places, because you just let your mind fly without barriers, without boundaries. You can wonder what it might have been like to walk down the streets of Paris in 1856, you can wonder about the moment the wheel was invented, you might wonder how Martin Luther King Jr. might have felt as he said “I Have A Dream”…

Wonder can take you to the top of Mt. Everest, and it can take you to the bottom of the Marianas Trench… or it can take you back to your own bed with the soft blankets and squishy pillows. It can take you anywhere you want to go.

But thinking…thinking takes you to the places that you need to go. The hard places…the places where you might struggle, sometimes for a long time, and sometimes for only a few seconds. Thinking unravels the knots in your mind, and smooths the wrinkles in your world, and everyone’s world.

Thinking is neutral, and thoughts are powerless until they are acted upon, but having the power to make thoughts, to shape and form, is wonderful.

It’s when wondering and thinking come together that the real magic happens. You can wonder if you will ever make it to see the crystalline blue shores of the Caribbean, and then you realize that if you start to plan, arrange, think, you can. You can smell the mist from the waves as they crash onto the beach, you can see the sun shine all the way to the sea bed…

If you think, wondering becomes reality.

At some point, somewhere, a person wondered why it was okay to hit men, a person wondered why men weren’t supposed to cry, why men weren’t supposed to feel. That person wondered where on the timeline men because less than women.

And then they thought…how can we change that?

We became part of that answer.

Unity, truth…in a time where falsehood is popular and division is commonplace, is rare.

It is no longer the status quo to fight for what you believe in…the status quo is to fight for what will make you popular, for what will make you money, and for what will make you powerful.

“The time is here for you to stand up for what you know is right. You must judge right from wrong. No longer can you be complacent or go with the flow or wonder what to do. You must decide now which path you will follow and which answer you will give. Decide well in advance, before the pressure is on, what you stand for.” – Margaret D. Nadauld

The world has become messy, chaotic, and people have forgotten how to think, because they want the thinking done for them. They don’t want to have to choose between what is right and wrong.

But we, us, everyone that has devoted time and energy, thoughts, wondering, dreaming, to defending a man from the mess that is this world…from a world that believes men deserve to be hit and that women can and should hit them…we defy the status quo.

We stand up and say no, men deserve support, they deserve to expect happiness, they deserve to love life…not to wake up every morning and think about everything they should just deal with.

We stand up against misinformation, against falsehood, and we maintain the truth in the face of all that wishes the truth to be buried.

We say that men and women deserve to be equal.

And we say that a man is innocent based on facts, based on a thorough examination of the case presented to us, we defend that man against everyone who would like to see us transform into sheep and go with the herd…

We defend that man because it is the right thing to do.

I am so proud to be a part of that we, a part of the we that supports Johnny Depp. I am so proud to be a part of a we that stands together for three long years to fight against a corrupt society that prefers men to be casualties in the war for social justice.

I am proud that we have never given up, and I am proud that we are going to win…that by fighting, we have already won.

Men are people too, and all people have struggles.

We say that men shouldn’t have to fight them alone.

We say that we need to keep fighting.

We don’t feed the beast.

We stay focused.

And we think.

Thank you to every single one of you that has stood strong until now, that refused to give in.

Keep going.

The Story of a Mess

I felt compelled to write this.

Because I feel like I portray an image of myself online that…isn’t the full substance of me. To you, I may seem…strong…confident, sure of myself…put together…I may seem like I know what I am doing…

…but that is just the image that I have crafted and perfected over 20 years so that people don’t know how much of a fucking mess I really am. That is the mask.

And now I am here to take it off completely.

As I sit here, writing this, I want to give you a picture of my brain…of what is going on inside of it right now.

I wonder if people will think my story is ‘not that bad’ or that other people had it ‘so much worse’…I wonder if people will think I am just writing this for attention…I wonder if I am even important enough to write about myself and expect people to care. I wonder if I can even write my story good enough so that you understand…I wonder if anyone will even give enough of a shit to read this.

My inner voice says to me “why do you think people want to know about your issues”…and it says to me “no one actually likes you, so why bother”…it says “you’ve already said enough about yourself, don’t seem so desperate for attention”……

…and at one point I would have listened to it.

I always hear people call themselves the outcast…the loner…and I try to resonate with that…but it never feels completely accurate. I feel like an outcast knows who they are. They know why they are an outcast.

Me? I have no fucking clue.

I have always felt like I am that person in the background that chimes in once in awhile, but am otherwise invisible to everyone. I am never fully allowed in, I am just occasionally noticed. And then when that moment is over, everyone forgets about me again.

Here is the point where I am going to actually start talking about real events.

I was born to parents who already hated each other by the time I existed. My mom and dad were never married. They had broken up a good six months before I was born. My mother was 19 when she had me. My father was 22.

My dad didn’t want me for the entirety of my mother’s pregnancy. My grandfather (my dad’s dad) begged my mother to get an abortion. She didn’t, obviously. About a year before I was born, the cops got involved between my parents due to a domestic violence incident.

My mother, previous to even meeting and dating my dad, had already experienced very heavy trauma from several different angles. I am not going to talk about them here, but I will say that they trouble her to this day. My father was used to always getting what he wanted. He was used to only doing things for himself, and my mother was used to never being provided for by anyone.

Back to when I was born. To my mother, I was the greatest thing that had ever happened. To my father, I guess you could say the same thing…except there was always a part of him that wishes…to this day, in fact, that I had never existed. I essentially ruined his life, and made his life at the same time.

(Not that he had any plans to do much with his life. He tells me all the time that if he could do it all over again, things would be “so much different”.)

Right off the bat, I was in an incredibly unstable environment. For the first three years of my life, I lived with my mother in an apartment. For that time, she was on and off drugs of all kinds, but she took care of me the best she could. Eventually her drug use and partying lifestyle took over to the point where she could no longer be a mother, so she handed me off to my paternal grandparents.

I know what you are thinking. “She must have had it so much better there.”

Yes and no. My grandmother, Sandy, was the sweetest most loving woman that I have ever known. She was really the first influence I had that shaped me. But the other side of the coin…her marriage, was something that I had to watch and work out on my own. My grandfather was a working man, and a traveling man. He was at home rarely, and when he was home, his main hobby was criticizing my grandmother at every possible opportunity. When he wasn’t doing that, he was handing her his company credit card.

I guess to buy her loyalty or something. Even at the age of six, I could tell something was wrong there. It was always “oh, this food could be better” or “oh, why isn’t this part of the house clean”…he always had an issue with her.

She quit her full time job to take care of me. She got me up and off to school all the way through fourth grade.

I spent preschool through first grade with my grandparents. My grandfather made upwards of 120k a year being a sales representative at General Electric, Plastics division. Because of that, I had nice stuff. Nice clothes, nice toys…my grandmother’s favorite thing to do was dress me for school. She would do my waist length hair up in braids and whatever other hairstyle she managed to cook up that day…she would put me in dresses…

As you can imagine, this did not paint a pretty picture for the rest of the kids at school. I was bullied for being the “rich kid”…I had no friends, and I was called a spoiled brat every five minutes…so being alone was what I grew used to in the early years of my school life.

A lot of kids who are “spoiled” end up acting spoiled forever…and that might have been me, but I got lucky.

My other grandmother, on my mom’s side, was a thrifter. Whenever I went to their house for the weekend, we would always go, what I called at the time, treasure hunting. It was also called junking.

We went to garage sales, and thrift stores. I got a lot of second hand clothes, toys, trinkets, and whatever else I could find.

My paternal grandfather, Larry, hated it. He hated that I liked “used” things. But that didn’t matter to me. I never saw the difference between “used” things and “new” things. As long as it worked, it was good enough for me. (As a result, I have grown up liking antiques FAR more than I like brand new shit.)

Anyway, we have now arrived at second grade. I moved from my grandparent’s house to my dad’s house. I was going to a new school.

I still had no friends. I was still the spoiled kid, and I was still that “weird girl”. From second grade to the end of third grade, really, Sandy got me off to school.

That changed half way through fourth grade.

I am going to take this moment to explain something about my dad. If you recall, I mentioned that he was used to only giving a shit about himself. Well, he was also very obsessed with the idea that he wasn’t a man if he didn’t have a woman in his life.

Ever since I can remember, he was always more interested in whichever girlfriend he had at the time than he was in me. At one point, he decided to go out with his girlfriend instead of bringing me to the doctor. (I was sick with a cold or something.) But that prioritization has continued to this day.

He always made sure to do whatever was necessary to keep his various girlfriends happy…and I was always “well if I have time”.

Halfway through fourth grade, he up and decided to move to his girlfriend’s apartment…an hour away. So I moved schools yet again, and yet again, I was still the weird kid with no friends.

Besides that, this particular girlfriend (I know now, anyway) was a narcissist, or at the very least, abusive. She made sure her daughter got everything I wanted, her daughter got to go first for everything, and her daughter got the bigger room…etc. And my dad never had anything to say about it, because it kept her happy.

They always got in awful fights (I saw all of them) that resulted in my dad storming into wherever I was and screaming at me “let’s go, we’re leaving”…only for him to change his mind once we got all of our shit in his truck.

This went on up until the beginning of sixth grade. Then they finally separated, and it was just me and my dad again.

Great, right?


He had verbally abused me before, but it had escalated at this point. Every time I fucked up (like forgot to fold laundry, or left a crumb on the counter), he would launch into a “you stupid kid, I hate you, I wish I didn’t have you” tirade. And that went on all the way into 11th grade.

At the beginning of sixth grade, and all the way to twelfth grade, I was left to get myself up for school, because he had to be at work at 6 AM. I learned how to be self-sufficient very quickly. I had to figure out my own homework, I had to make my own food, and I had to get to school by myself.

And I still had no friends. No real friends. I had people I could sit with at lunch…I had “friends”.

Due to this isolation, I spent much of my time in my room for six years. And I liked it. I liked being alone. It was comfortable. I didn’t have anyone interrupting my thoughts. I didn’t have anyone to stop my mind from wandering, from thinking.

So, lets recap for a second.

We are in the beginning of 11th grade. I am going to briefly mention a few things here that I alluded to but didn’t explicitly say.

Up to this point, I had experienced rape (not me, but someone else), verbal abuse, physical abuse, being abandoned, drugs, alcohol…I had experienced being shuffled around to different places frequently…I had experienced being bullied…I had experienced suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, etc. etc.

(Between my dad and his brother, they have 10 DUIs. Ted, the brother, rolled three cars, my dad had been in a snowmobile accident…a lot of alcohol related issues.)

I say all of that like I am reading a grocery list…but each of those things happened, and each of them fucked me up.

After this, I had experienced two traumatic…losses. My “best friend” I made halfway through 11th grade revealed to me at the beginning of 2016 that she had always hated me, but was just too afraid of confrontation to tell me. She called me a sociopath, she said I was selfish, ungrateful, rude, unfriendly, inconsiderate….etc…

And then I had a guy cheat on me in 2012. Long story. Basically it kicked my anxiety and self-hatred into high gear.

So, why did I tell you all of this?

Several reasons.

I have a desperate need for validation. Because without it, I recede right back into that “no one gives a shit about you, you don’t matter, you have no friends, and you need to stop trying” place that I live in. I am convinced most of the time that all of you are only pretending to like me, that you talk about how much you hate me when I’m not around…or that you forget I exist unless I make enough of a scene to be noticed.

I think everything I do is way more shitty than I think it is, and I feel like I am never quite good enough.

Constantly, regardless of how much I want to do something, I always think “what’s the fucking point, no one gives a shit anyway”.

And it doesn’t really matter what you say to me, how you act…I will always think that because it has been drilled into me… the idea that I am alone…for my entire life.

I constantly compare myself to all of you, and always come to the conclusion that all of you are so much better than I am…that I am back to being the weird kid that is tolerated sometimes…

I live in a cesspool of self doubt, self hatred, depression, anxiety, obsessive thoughts, ruminating, suicidal thoughts…and I probably always will.


Basically, behind my “good comebacks”, my “good writing”, my “good selfies”, or my support for Johnny…lives a person that doesn’t feel like any of that is good enough or even good at all, that is constantly trying to be good enough…behind all of that lives an absolute fucking irreparable mess.

I may be smart, I may be pretty, I may be whatever it is that you have called me, but I am also very very broken.

And I have only covered the tip of the true depth of hellishness that makes up my mind.

I was made by two messed up people, I lived with messed up people for my entire life, and that created a messed up person. Me.

That’s who I am. A mess.

But I guess I turned out alright for the most part?

I don’t know.



The Question You Should Be Asking

Maria Kari has written an article…or a blog post, rather, in the Express Tribune, with a headline of:

Amber Heard vs Johnny Depp: Is the credibility of #MeToo and women survivors under threat?

This headline, while on the surface it may seem well-meaning, is only an attempt at misdirection.

Since the dawn of the MeToo era, or even since the dawn of third-wave feminism, women that belong to this group of people have started a slow process of demonizing men. Every time a male shooter kills people, they write essays and tweets about how we need to “stop male violence”…as though every single man ever is violent and threatening. Every time a man rapes someone, they call out all men as disgusting pigs…as though ALL men will rape or have raped a woman.

Whenever they mention rape or domestic violence, it is always the woman who is being raped or beaten. The default, every time, is the woman. Domestic violence, to them, is violence against women. Rape is rape of women. That is their definition.

So…this headline, then, is carefully bringing the focus of the MeToo movement and “survivors” back to women. Only women can be survivors. Only women can be recognized by the MeToo movement. And only women face scrutiny by the public…but shouldn’t?

Everything about this headline is wrong.

Domestic violence is violence against anyone in a domestic setting. A sibling, parent, spouse, an aunt, an uncle, a grandparent…male or female.

Rape is the act of forcing a sexual advance onto another person…and again, it doesn’t matter what that person is or what their gender is. It is all rape.

The other glaring issue that this headline represents is the idea that women should be believed without question…but men should be interrogated and questioned until they are blue in the face…because how could it be possible for a women to have carried out violence against a man?

“Man Up.”

“I thought he was a man.”

“What a pussy.”

“How could a red-blooded man just let a woman beat him?”

“He deserved it.”

“She was just feisty.”

And the reason they feel that they need to bring the focus back to women…is because a man has now accused a woman of domestic violence publicly, and that really fucks the hell out of their narrative.

Only women can be hit, dammit. Only women can be raped, dammit. Those bad men are so bad, they do such bad things to the poor women, believe the women, they never lie, women are good, female empowerment, yeah get him girl, hit him…

When a woman hits a man…she is just strong, or she is putting him in his place…or she…the excuses or praise they use to justify violent female behavior is…quite frankly, disgusting.

I am going to take the very first paragraph of this and point out some bias.

Last week, actor Johnny Depp hit his former wife Amber Heard with a massive $50 million lawsuit, which alleges that Heard’s claims of domestic abuse against Depp were a “hoax” intended to “advance her career”. Not only is Depp arguing that his then-wife’s case was completely fake, he is also alleging that he was the victim of domestic violence.

First, if this was a woman suing a man for domestic violence, I highly doubt she would use the term “hit” when describing the lawsuit. This may just be general writing incompetency…but even still, if this was a woman suing a man, supportive language would be used.

Second, if this was a woman suing a man, nothing would be in quotation marks.

Finally, the last sentence is so condescending, it boggles my mind. Not only (not only is he attacking a woman this way)…he is also alleging that he (because he obviously isn’t) was the victim of domestic violence.

  • Anyone with training in argument analysis and a background in rhetoric (me) can see immediately that this person does not think Johnny Depp’s claims are either credible, or possible. They think there is no way that their darling woman, Amber Heard, could have possibly harmed Johnny Depp.

Depp’s lawyers claim to have a lot of evidence, including almost 87 video surveillance clips from around their home and testimonies of numerous witnesses including the couple’s friends and neighbors.

Even though the court of public opinion has already demonized Heard as an opportunistic liar, it’s important to remember that Depp simply filing a lawsuit does not automatically make his evidence admissible or legit.

Claim” – Because he certainly doesn’t have any real evidence.

The second bit of this statement is…bluntly put, bullshit.

First of all, Ms. Kari, back in 2016, all Amber Heard had was a photograph in People Magazine and an edited video that she sold to TMZ. Yet people believed her automatically.

“Johnny Depp hit me.”

The people: “You’re absolutely right, he did, cancel him.”

She didn’t even have to have evidence for people like you to believe her. She just had to say that he hit her. That was enough, because she is a woman.

She has been lauded as a survivor, as a strong woman, as an inspiration for women…ever since then. Why? Her claims were never proven, were never even brought to trial…Johnny Depp was never proven guilty.

But to you, he might as well be.

And now, in this paragraph, you are saying that “it is important to remember that Depp simply filing a lawsuit does not automatically make his evidence admissible or legit”.

Did you have that same attitude when Heard failed to do her deposition twice…or when she sold evidence to People Magazine…or when she sent Depp an extortion letter…or when she hit him on camera…or when…it doesn’t really matter, because I know you didn’t. You didn’t even question her. Not for a damn second.

But now that Johnny Depp has…

Actually, let me explain something to you, since you clearly know nothing about the legal system and the process of filing a defamation lawsuit.

When you file a lawsuit claiming defamation, the number one thing you need to be able to do is PROVE that what the other person is saying is 100% false. So, Johnny Depp would not have filed this lawsuit if he did not believe that he could prove that Amber Heard’s claims of him being violent with her were, as you put in quotation marks, a hoax.

You also cannot state in a court declaration that you have 87 CCTV tapes, audio recordings, an admission of guilt from Heard herself, 17 witness statements, and photographs, if you don’t A. actually have all of that, and B. believe it to be concrete evidence.

A judge is going to review all of that evidence. Why would Adam Waldman allow fake or bad evidence to be stated in a court declaration?

He wouldn’t.

But the fact that you are actually saying that this evidence is probably not admissible or legit…while you believed Heard with a photograph in People Magazine…your misandry is showing.

Your truthful headline should be this: Women are credible, men are lying.

That is the message you are trying to communicate, right?

Well, here is my message: Anyone can be credible, anyone can lie.

Because what you third-wave feminists have failed to understand…is that feminism is not women > men. Feminism is women = men.

Let me repeat that.

Feminism is not women > men.

Feminism is women = men.

Generally speaking, we should not immediately believe abuse victims. Belief is something that happens after a convincing argument.

Generally speaking, we should always consider their story. We should keep an open mind to either side until we have enough details to make a true and educated decision concerning which side to support.

That is how the legal system works.

Innocent until proven guilty.

It is not guilty when women accuse, nor is it guilty until proven innocent. And the court of public opinion should mean absolutely nothing.

Because as someone who has too frequently looked into the vacant, expressionless faces and blank eyes of victims of abuse, I cannot think of a single more frightening thing than a world where men get to use their power, money and connections to first abuse then bring into question the credibility of women.

In closing, I want to bring attention to this paragraph…your last one.

This is where you really show your attitude about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. This is where your credibility in this blog post is absolutely shot to shit.

You believe, just because of your constructed view of male power over females, that Johnny Depp did, in fact, beat Amber Heard, and is now just trying to silence her using his apparent ‘male’ power.

You really believe that. And you will continue to believe that regardless of what happens.

Violence against males at the hands of women is very real, and it happens far more often than you might think, Ms. Kari.

The reason you don’t hear about it much, and when you do hear about it, don’t care, is because a violent woman is seen as feisty and powerful.

She is someone to look up to.

And the man deserved it.

So, the question you should be asking: why is violence against men seen as a joke?

A Thank You Post

There has been a lot of…discussion lately that some Depp supporters are not getting thanked properly.

First, if you are supporting Johnny Depp JUST for any personal recognition, for personal gain, for attention, or for any other selfish reason, take a step back and reevaluate your position. You are not in it for the right reasons.

Now, on to the thank yous.

To all the people right in the beginning who started to dig into the allegations outside of Twitter…those on TMZ, on Jamber, and on any other site, thank you for your diligent work, and for spending your time right from the get go defending Johnny. Without your support, we wouldn’t be as far as we are today.

To every. single. person. who has raised their voice on social media in support of Johnny, thank you for not conforming to the popular opinion. Thank you for sticking to the truth, and for working hard to spread that truth.

To every person that has believed in Johnny, but has stayed silent, thank you for sticking to the truth, and not being swayed by the popular opinion.

Special recognition goes to Elle-Rose for her amazing videos that she tirelessly creates to support not only Johnny, but all men in need of help due to domestic violence.

Special recognition goes to Laura and Kenderbelle for the tireless research on the legal side of things.

Special recognition goes to Lani for being so active on Tumblr in support of Johnny.

Special recognition goes to becauseitisjohnnydepp for also being active on Tumblr (and Twitter) in support of Johnny.

Special recognition to Stephen and Gina, for being so diligent in your support of Johnny.

For everyone that has created threads, blog posts, videos, Tumblr posts, Instagram posts in support of Johnny…just know that you should be proud of yourself for doing the right thing.

I am humbled to be part of such an amazing group of people, and hope to remain friends with you all for a long time.

Also, just a reminder to consider submitting something to Johnny’s book. You can find the link pinned to my Twitter. ❤


Why I Defend Johnny Depp

“You only defend him because he is good looking.”
“He isn’t going to fuck you.”
“He is a celebrity who doesn’t even know you.”
“Don’t waste your time defending a white rich man.”
“Stupid stan, you look obsessed.”
“You belong to a cult.”
“You just don’t want him to be guilty.”


Consider the themes of films like The Green Mile, The Fugitive, The Shawshank Redemption…consider real cases like Michael Jackson, The West Memphis Three, The Scottsboro Boys…consider TV documentaries like Making A Murderer, The Central Park Five, A Murder In The Park…

All of these center around a human being or several human beings that have been wrongfully accused. Within these stories, there are ALWAYS people that believe they are guilty, no matter what they are given to change their mind.

What does this mean? Why are these themes included in so many fiction and non-fiction premises?

The answer is simple.

Because many people do not care about justice, and will never care about justice. They only care about making problems go away. The faster they can name a person guilty and move on, the better. Whether that person is actually guilty or not is immaterial. Not their problem.

With social media, people can now make these voices heard. They post hundreds of comments talking about how they will ‘never believe’ someone no matter what, and these comments spread like wildfire. Hundreds of people hop on the bandwagon without even thinking to find out for themselves what to think…because the ‘thinking’ has been done for them.

And now, with the heavy lean on believing women, and believing female victims, and Me Too…the time for males to suffer with false accusations is rising rapidly. A man who has a career, children, a family…one accusation by a bitter woman can make all of that fall apart. There is no ‘wait and see’, there is no safety blanket for the man…he is immediately exiled.

When the man is a public figure of any magnitude (an actor, doctor, lawyer, musician, journalist etc.) this is magnified many times over.

The accusation train is a fast moving one, and with it comes attention, respect, and acceptance. To 90% of social media, if you don’t board, you are an ‘apologist’, a ‘victim blamer’, and you are cast out.

People don’t think anymore. They don’t want to think anymore. They want to get back to their mobile games, their reality television shows, their Youtube shows, their Netflix, their Facetimes, and their online shopping as fast as possible, BUT they still want to participate in the latest and greatest outrage. It makes them feel powerful, it makes them feel like they have contributed to the downfall of someone who MUST deserve it.

This actor said THIS, damn him (when in reality he was misquoted, or the context was missed)…this actor is accused of [insert crime here]…well he must have fucking done it, damn him…this woman said this man did this, and since women never lie, he definitely did it.

People have become robots, and they will believe anything and everything that is fed to them as long as it fits their current narrative being streamlined to them by the media. Right now, gender is the basis for truth, race is the basis for crime, and religion is the basis for hate.

None of these three should be the first thing you consider when examining a scenario. As a student of rhetoric, I have used a much more effective method of analysis. First, allow me to define rhetoric:

“Rhetoric maybe defined as the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion.”

In layman’s terms, this is basically the art of critical thinking.

The method of analysis that I use, and have used since I was 16, is Kenneth Burke’s analytical pentad, pictured below.


I will explain this in terms of the Depp case.

The Act: Amber Heard accused Johnny Depp of domestic violence. 

Agency: Through the media, and through her divorce lawyer. 

Agent: Amber Heard

Scene: Media. 

Purpose: Her own benefit. 

This model can be used to identify the jumping off points with which to frame your argument, and your beliefs regarding the situation you are examining. When you are able to provide answers to the five points of the pentad, then you can begin building a case.

The biggest mistake that people make when looking at a situation is that they think that already know the answer. They don’t. Every time I go into a situation, I maintain a status of “I don’t know” until I have enough evidence to support a decision. This is the ONLY way to go about anything. Otherwise you are undermining your own brain. 

So, why do I defend Johnny Depp?

Because who the fuck wouldn’t?

Whether he has money, whether he is white, whether he is a man, whether he did drugs, whether he drank…none of that matters, because he is still a human being, and he still deserves an objective defense.

Objectively, I don’t defend Johnny Depp. I have never defended Johnny Depp. I never will defend Johnny Depp.

I defend a man. I defend a person.

I defend a man who has been falsely accused by his narcissistic ex-wife of domestic violence. I defend him because I KNOW how difficult men can have it when trying to prove their innocence in the face of today’s trigger-happy society. I KNOW how much men hide when they are being abused. I have seen it happen.

And I have seen how little support they get when they do come forward. Feminists say we should believe all victims, that we should never question victims, that we should support all victims…as long as they are women.

If it is a man saying they were abused, then they are the abuser, they just want money, they are just trying to torment the woman, they are lying, they are trash, they probably abused her…people come up with excuses to dismiss these men as though it is going out of style. It’s shameful.

We need to stop looking at this with a gender lens. Gender does not matter. Person A has accused Person B of abuse.

That is the way you should think about it. Because only then can you actually treat it with the objectivity that every situation deserves.

Subjectively, I defend Johnny Depp because I know, with all my talent in understanding people, and seeing inside people, that he is not capable of this. He is the sweetest, kindest, most gentle person in the world, and every. single. person. that has met him has said the same.

He has inspired me since I was twelve…and the strength that he has shown through this whole ordeal could fuel an army.

I defend Johnny Depp because for evil to succeed, it is only necessary for good men to do nothing.

I defend Johnny Depp because it is the right thing to do.

And I will continue to defend Johnny Depp until I decide that the world has stopped giving me a reason to.