do you see what I see?

If you read my old blog, you already know that I have issues with my mother. What I have neglected to mention then, or since, is something I aev realized only in the past few weeks; my mother is a selfish, narcissistic, self-absorbed, smothering, overcontrolling perfectionist Nazi. Though this is not confirmed, experts believe this may indeed be the case. However, we will have to wait for the offficial confirmation from the office of the President before taking action.

For example: She refuses to admit the flaw in her stratagy of watching several minutes, per week of my media intake, assuming that it therefore entirely cartoons, and thereby announcing that she does not want to see me watching any more of these things. When pressed for specifics, she states that she doesn't need to provide any. When asked what she knows about the actual content of my TV intake, she states that I don't read as much anymore, she doesn't know anything about what I watch, reminisces about my childhood, and how I "used to solve problems when you were little", then asks me to tell her about what I watch. In no way does she how it is wrong to make judgements without all the pertinent information, and why she bears the burden of proof, not the person she's making the decision about. At no point does she, or my father, ever ask me what I think about the issue.

And yes, this is buisness as usual.

Earlier tonight, I stood there, just stood there, why she railed at me on what she would do to me if I ever raised a hand to her. This was provoked by her calling me 'thinskinned', when I got irritated at her pointing out that I should do something I was already in the act of doing, again, and me then responding that if I was thin skinned, I would've hit her.

Earlier, she used the 'when you graduate college, you'll see where I was right' analogy to avoid addressing an arguement. Maybye I will then, but right now I'm asking you to explain it to me. And you're refusing to do so, essentially because you think I'm still a child. Or rather, you want me to be. If you lose control of me, you're losing control of one more thing. And if you lose control of anything, your world will crumble, right?

After the broadsides had ceased, I walked away from the kitchen, silently catalouging what I could've done differently, as usual. The Swiss army knife was closer to her, and the ice pick, and the bag of nails [seriously]. But closer to me was a pair of scissors, a chair, and the dinner knives, which were still on the table.

Oh, and the pizza cutter.

In case you were wondering, she did use the "shh, shh, don't try and argue" of people with intrinsically flawed arguements.1She also said I could easily walk out the door, where we keep our gas tank. And power line. And water pump... What I should've done was grab her by the ugly lapels, and talk to her in a low, threat'ning voice.

I have the reach, speed, and coolheadedness. My mother has nothing but weight. [Insert obligatory fat joke here.] She tried to hit me, last spring, and never laid a hand on me. I just kept blocking her sloppy punches. She keeps asserting that I'm a minor, and I will be until 21. Not according to the law of Great Britain and the Commonwealth of the Bahamas, I'm not.

And I know, for a fact, if she ever angered me enough to hit her, I wouldn't stop until at least one of us was dead.

1.In case you were wondering, she commanded me to stop blogging, and talk to her and Daddy about my problems. Which consist mainly, of, oh, them. So I can't talk to them about my problems, or my classmates, or my brother and sister, and that leaves the beautiful, faceless internet. Hi Internet.

//do you hear what i hear

hammer my bones

My sister, and my mother, can't debate.
Me: Eh, Jordan can't play anymore.
MJ: He could beat you in a game.
Ad hominem.
Me: Yes he could. What does that have to do with it?
MJ. He can beat you!
Circular reasoning./Begging the question.
Me: Explain: What does my inability to beat him in a game of basketball have anything to do with my ability to judge the quality of his playing? I'm not qualified to be Prime Minister, but the law says I'm qualified to judge who is.
MJ: Actually1, the law says you're qualified to choose.
Me: I have to judge to choose.
Semantics.
MJ: [lip curls slightly]Jonathan...don't even try.
An earlier arguement with my mother;
Mum: [agitated]You always disagree with everthing I tell you to do!
Me: No I don't.
Mum: See! You're doing it now!
Me: Because you're wrong.
Mum: My point is that you always disagree with me!
Me: No I don't!
Mum: There you go again!
[repeat]

It was eerily similar to the arguement's in Bill Cosby's "Love and Marriage".2
Cmille: That's not my point!
Bill: Then what are you saying?
Camille: I'm saying that that's not my point!
Mind you, this isnt just my sister's go-to arguement, it's basically her only arguement. Which is kinda sad, if you think about it. Especially considering that she has better grades that I did at her level.

1.She always says this. Always.
2. No Amazon link here, folks. Move along.

//in the anvil of daylight