Blackballed

It isn’t often that I write a post that reeks of pisstivity. But I think that by the time I get finished with this post…it will stink to high heaven. No pun intended.

Today’s post has brought to you by Arch Nemesis #7 and sponsored by TUMS.

I’ve been battling with something over the past few days and as much as I hate to say it, I have to cut my losses and move on. I’m not really happy about it, but it’s the only option that I have left. You can only try so much. What it all boils down to is that I’ve been blackballed. There’s a more modern (read: vulgar) term for this, but I won’t go there. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the blackball term, here is a little history from wikipedia:

The blackball was used in elections to membership of a Gentlemen’s club. The principle of such a club was that it was self-perpetuating: i.e. new members could only be elected by existing members. This was to ensure that new members were congenial to the old members, which helped to preserve the ethos (and exclusivity) of the club.

In more modern terms, one is denied access to something due to the fact that someone doesn’t think very highly of one’s self.

Sounds fair right?

Not hardly. Let me give you a little background here. I’ve known a certain someone for a long time now, going on a decade. That’s something in neighborhood of 42% of my current life…nothing to laugh at. As with most people, we parted ways for college but kept in touch over the years, especially since our birthdays are really close. Now most of you who know me very well know that I went through some turbulent times during my early college years. And the awesome thing is that God really used all that to change me for the better and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

But what puts sand in my crack is the fact that some people just can’t let go of the past. Let me rephrase that: Some people and their parents can’t let go of that fact. Not just any past, but my past. And cue the blackballing. I tried to call my old friend on their birthday and I all got was a big fat ACCESS DENIED. Don’t get me wrong, there have been little things here and there over the years that I’ve looked past, but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I guess I didn’t get that memo about how people from Climax GA aren’t deserving of their attention or fall under Psalm 103:12, Isaiah 38:17, and Micah 7:19. My bad. I’m tempted to climb to the top of Curry Hill with a kilt on and pull a Braveheart. Why Curry Hill? So you can see my white cheeks from atop your high horse.

But alas…I’m beyond that and I got the memo this time.

This has been Joshua Starling, over and out.

A very powerful article/video about landmines. If the video doesn’t start playing, you may have to click the play button.

Ant City.

Hang 470 man.

The Evolution of a Programmer.

Finger Twister.

Check out the ice tower this dude made.