For those of you wondering, Ferry Corsten is a Dutch club DJ who produces his own stuff. I personally got plugged into his stuff when in 2006, I had just recovered from wisdom tooth surgery, February 6 being the exact day of that appointment. I was withdrawn from college, isolated from friends and those I cared about and was not allowed out of the house. So what did I do to pass the time? I started listening to trance and dance stuff, including Corsten’s music. I loved the sounds and the progressions the beats provided, even when they were slightly off key. Temporarily, when my jaw was operated on, the pitch of the world seemed to fall by a half step. Ferry’s music was among some of what was pitched down slightly, and it was me, really. But then, fastforward twenty or even ten years later, seems like twenty years from this view, and a young woman from San Diego mentioned Corsten to me in a Facebook post or two, then we zello chatted and then on Threema. THreema, for those who are total tech idiots, is a highly encrypted social media messaging platform that does not give out your phone number, messages and so on via server, only stores these and an encrypted ID on your phone. The ID consists of letters and numbers scrambled together to form a unique “ident”, to borrow a term from 3000: a Space Odyssey by a famous Arthur Clark I think. I’ve read so many books, but this Threema thing is the first step to having identifications encrypted in your body, except it’s in your smartphone.
Enough of the tech lesson, back to Ferry Corsten. MY friend, whose music and files you can check out on SoundCloud, link available upon request, is also a DJ and wants to make money entertaining folks. I see no problem or harm doing it, as I entertained people with food, music, and conversation, but that is too courtesan like in my opinion. I should be able to choose a career path that doesn’t require vision, i.e. driving. ANd club deejaying may sound unsafe, but why not? My friend is doing it, so why can’t I? I want to learn to mix, rock out, and talk to fans and reach as many people as possible. Don’t bring up CHristina Grimme because she was a YouTube star, and she was probably attractive in the eyes, something I’m not. My eyes are always closed, and I get highly offended when people ask me to open them.
So I wrote an email to Ferry Corsten’s publicist, stating I was a friend of the DJ in California and wished to thank Mr. Corsten in person while he’s doing his gig because Corsten’s music brought me hope, even if I didn’t realize it now, I am no longer in prison by a significant other or parental figures, being that my significant other is sweet and supports my aspirations, and the parental figures will be cut off if they do anything stupid and wield their guardianship, which is abusive. Guardianships for blind people are a disgrace to humankind, and should be thrown away. In Corsten’s native Netherlands, another problem has arisen, euthanizing the terminally ill. I have a friend in Holland who described a friend’s euthanizing because she had cancer, and I’m sure this friend’s former bandmate chose this, but euthanizing terminally ill people could then translate to throwing blind people into the category of undesirables. It already sort of happens in most other countries, although without the needle and liquid meds. Corsten himself has met Heather, my DJ friend in California, and knows she’s blind and can’t see. Of course, as a blind person, I was accused of being entitled to meet people I wanted, accused of being arrogant and bossy, and did not get opportunity to fix the wrongs in Florida’s highly flawed system of schools for the blind and public school mainstream accommodations. I was silenced, but no more thanks to moving out of state, finding love, and keeping my family at arm’s length. Rather, at my entire body’s length, a thousand miles away or more, my family still believes they can trump Colorado’s medical privacy laws, trump federal college privacy laws, and steal my happiness so they can be happy they made me miserable. They’re evil. For telling me I’m entitled to meet any boy band I wanted, punishing me for wanting to meet the Backstreet Boys, and sitting idly by as bullies in a private school setting smashed my dreams of becoming a singer. A pop artist in my teens, I might have never partied, but sex sells, but not with women who have disabilities. Females with disabilities are silenced because of their femininity and because of their anatomy, all invalid reasons to use the word “bossy” to apply to girls and “leader” to apply to boys. I certainly won’t accept a leader for a son, only a daughter or woman should lead because boys are becoming more and more violent in general, being disrespectful and not listening to their moms, sisters, and for the older men, their own daughters. Ferry Corsten has kids, but he’s out most of the time, but yeah, technology enables all of us to connect, check on our kids, drop in for Amazon Echoes and Alexa apps, all that stuff helps the kids realize they still have Dad around, no matter where he might be. The Backstreet Boys, for another, might all have gotten married and some might have kids and pets, wives and aunts, sisters, all that. But these men failed me, so did their management and my family. I’m done dealing with my family, and want a refreshing full circle beginning, and it begins with Ferry’s music, trance, and perhaps a career.
Thank you for supporting this blog for you who read it in 2017, and I strive to continue writing through this year and beyond, thank you for the new year’s greetings as well.