How often does this happen?
A woman and an armed man stormed a home wearing masks and kidnapped an infant at gunpoint.
Okay, that sounds downright criminal… but look at the next sentence. This sentence still doesn’t make sense to me:
The woman had given up the baby for adoption, whisking the baby to a military base three states away, authorities alleged Sunday.
Is the adoption alleged? The whisking perhaps? It’s okay though, what ever it was that happened, the AUTHORITIES were able to right this wrong..
Investigators found the 5-month-old girl unharmed early Sunday at Fort Bragg, N.C., and planned to file state kidnapping charges against her biological mother, Jamie Kiefer said Special Agent Jason Pack, an FBI spokesman in Jackson.
“Apparently it was related to the adoption of the baby,” Pack said. “Apparently Ms. Kiefer had changed her mind about the adoption.”
Changed her mind?
well, moving on, two people kidnapped one of the kidnapper’s kids…
at least, that’s what I’m assuming, based on the story so far. But wait…
Investigators believe the three took Madison Erickson at gunpoint and tied up her adoptive mother, Jennifer Erickson, at the home in Tishomingo County, near the Tennessee line about 200 miles north of Jackson.
So now the Man and Woman from the beginning of the article are suddenly three people. What the fuck is going on here?
so I have noticed a few interesting posts lately, over at iBastard and Joy’s Division, regarding what appears to be a blow-up between some adoptees attempting to express themselves and some paid copywriter henchpeeps from an adoption industry webpresence. (cough) This demand for ‘serious’ is a way of stifling expression, of creating baby toms out of bastards and I for one have no desire to be legitimate. ‘Legitimate’ is a social tag (much like ‘serious’) which is wielded by hegemonic gatekeepers as a way to enforce behavior, and without this quest for legitimacy there wouldn’t have been nearly the demand for adoption in the first place.
It’s not going to take much thought to figure out where I’m coming from on this.. let’s just say that I have no desire to be regarded as a legitimate authority. There’s enough people out there with degrees and shit that can talk to each other behind closed walls in exacting and snarky language, and I am just drunk enough to realize I shouldn’t post this… but I am a writer for people who drink, smoke weed, play loud music in seedy bars at three am, people who know where the line is and do their best to shit on that line.
I know this isn’t my most well-thought out post. Sorry. I just spent the last twelve hours getting this interview with Ken McCarthy ready for Alterati and I just don’t have it in me to cover all my bases here. Additionally, I’ve been reading “The Girls Who Went Away” by Ann Fessler and I feel as if I’ve been feeding bits of my soul into some meat grinder all weekend as a result.
This isn’t the first book by any stretch of the imagination that’s had this effect on me, Robert Anderson’s book Second Choice and Betty Jean Lifton’s The Search for the Adopted Self both left me more or less ripped to shreds, and a few years ago I had the great fortune to talk to Renee Sansom-Flood for a few hours. I’m no stranger to the literature on adoptee issues that’s out there, and every time I go back to these issues I feel very much as if I’m peeling off some new scab from my navel.
This internet is not what you think it is. It cannot be silenced, it cannot be legislated, and every attempt to censure or censor online will be treated as a cancer and routed around. This isn’t just true in this case with adoptees speaking their truth against a bulwark of silence and lies presented by those with an industry to lose, but in all other cases as well. I’m an illegitimate motherfucking bastard and I’m not going to change. Alterati is the podium I’ve been afforded at the moment and I’m damn lucky to have access to it, but even if that site goes down I’ll still be here, ranting, and if anyone tries to stop me that will just fuel my resolve. And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.