Showing posts with label Numeratus Ergo Sum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Numeratus Ergo Sum. Show all posts

14 August, 2012

Southern Jaunt / Indigent Persons / Numeratus Ergo Sum

Divorce: a resumption of diplomatic relations and rectification of boundaries. - Ambrose Bierce

That ain't me, that ain't my face. It wasn't even me when I was trying to be that face. I wasn't even really me then; I was just being the way I looked, the way people wanted. - Ken Kesey

The English language is both verbose and reductive. The OED (That's the Oxford English Dictionary in case you didn't know) recognizes more than 1 million words. Granted, one of those words is muggle (half-wizard/ half human bastard, a la Harry Potter)  -- the inclusion of which  I object to on the grounds that frooping (taking a dump and masturbating at the same time) is not also included. To be fair, though, I haven't been as assiduous in updating the PDOUWP (That's the Parsons Dictionary Of Oft Used Words and Phrases) either. Writing a dictionary is a massive undertaking and not to be done lightly.

Or with a great deal of sobriety.

Divorce, as a term, tends to have more of a connotative meaning than a denotative one.

Connotative: what people say a word means in a personal, emotional, situational context, whereas denotative is the meaning of a word that's fit for a dictionary... and quite possibly, either verbose, or reductive. Or both. For example: "Me: I need to hurry up and file for divorce in order to avoid disingenuous Facebook information."(denotative) "County Clerk: "Oh, you need to file for [divorce].(Word mouthed but not actually spoken aloud." (connotative.)

Yesterday I filed for divorce from my soon-to-be ex. Since I am mostly broke, I went through the spectacularly outdated Illinois Free Legal Aid website. I had to do this because the County Clerk's office only had the divorce paperwork for marriages lasting 5 years of less.  Apparently, they don't expect anyone married more than 5 years to file for divorce... guessing, I suppose, that both parties are either deliriously happy or sufficiently apathetic enough that the problem -- like marital passions -- never arise.

After I was finally able to open the documents (the website required the use of a web browser I will not use, will not download, and am fairly convinced is nearly as evil as Ol' Zuck [see below]) I found that my 9 years of marriage -- 11 years total together -- was easily reduced to 20 or 30 questions covering everything from the last time we lived in the same space to whether she is currently knocked up. Also in the State of IL(L) among the reasons cited for divorce are certain stipulations.

Irreconcilable Differences (also a bad movie) means you have to both agree that you REALLY REALLY mean it.

Physical Abuse requires a pound of blood, accompanying photos, and the short skirt that potentially caused the beating in the first place (so the judge can determine whether the beatings were warranted.).

My favorite, though, was the stipulation for filing due to Mental Cruelty. If filing for divorce on the grounds of Mental Cruelty, YOU HAVE TO PROVE IT WASN'T DESERVED.

Really. I don't have to make this part up. I read the question five times to make sure I was reading it correctly.

And because I am primarily unemployed -- having not held steady employment since January -- I qualified for what the state calls  "Indigent Status." This means that I can petition on my own behalf and the usual filing fee of ($120) is waived. I still have to pay for the postage to send a copy of the paperwork to the Fayette County Sheriff's Department so that they can serve her... this, apparently, can't be avoided. I got the feeling though that the whole process would have been quicker had she remained in the area long enough to file; but whether it's next week or next month, before I pack up my rucksack and leave Mount Carroll yet again, I will no longer be a married man.

I do not expect a line of excited women to form any time soon. 

Actually I would have posted a change in status to my Facebook page, except that I'm convinced that Mark Zuckerberg, Gazillionaire Techno-Fascist, would somehow require proof of my real status... I can only suppose that he needs to know in case he wants to try and date my ex. I can only assume, however, that since she and I are both into girls (FINALLY... something in common) that Ol' Zuck would strike out again.

I did manage, in spite of myself, to get my driver's license replaced. I was hoping to get my picture taken... the beard is growing out nicely... but alas, I was denied. But I am an organ donor. When I die, some poor beardless schlub can have my righteous face rug.

But not Ol' Zuck. That baby-faced ideologue can buy his own.