G-Dub and the 9/11 Conspiracy

Some call Obama "an embarrassment" to our country. I don't spend much time trying to dissect the twisted logic of such a view. But it does make me wonder if the people who think that way ever consider what "Bush the Second" was to our country...

As most people are aware, there is a vast conspiracy theory out there that Bush and his administration either planned or at least allowed the attacks of 9/11. I'm on the fence with this one, but it's funny when people argue against it with the intention of defending Bush and the GOP of the time.

Here is how my logic works: If Bush knew the attacks were coming and did nothing to stop them, then he is just as guilty as those who flew the planes. Even if he allowed it as some sort of twisted repeat of Pearl Harbor, this isn't justified. And if (as the general public holds), he knew nothing of the attacks and it was a complete and total sneak attack, this means that Bush and his administration was one of the most incompetent governing bodies of the time and therefore one of the biggest embarrassments to our country in history.

My point being, if you are one of those that "hates" Obama, want him to fail, or want to go back to the days of the big W, consider what you are asking for.

I want to make a promise to you

"I want to make a promise to you, the reader. And I don't know if I can fulfill it tomorrow, or even the day after that. But I put the bastards of this world on notice, that I do not have their best interests at heart. I will try and speak for my reader, that is my promise. And it will be a voice made of ink and rage."

Perspective and perception. We all have it, but some have more than others. Human beings have a natural tendency to gravitate to comfort. When comfort is threatened, we turn into rabid dogs. Today's society is built around a perspective of the top dogs, the fat cats and great white pigs. Our perception is tweaked and modified by advertisements and corporate strategies. We are all yes men and yes women to the policy we subscribe to.

There are those that see this and understand it. Some don't care because they are comfortable. Others care and want to dislodge the rest of us, but go about it in all the wrong ways.

When I read or hear the words, "WAKE UP SHEEPLE!!!" my first reaction is not, "Wow, that man/woman must have all the answers! Please put your truth inside me and set me free." No. My first reaction is, "What a pompous, heinous asshole of a wretch."

Most conspiracy theorists trade in one set of propaganda for another. Everything is about crowd control. What can I gain from the masses? Just because you read something provocative on some denim-shirt wearing, gung-ho patriot's blog doesn't mean it isn't some manufactured, regurgitated, half-cocked fictional hallucination brought on by too much booze and Fox News.

Don't get me wrong. Liberals are guilty of buying into crowd mentality, but their motives are just a little less self-centered. But remember the saying about what the road to hell is paved with. The truth of the matter is, neither side of the aisle has any interest in the greater good unless it will line pockets under the guise of freeing the oppressed.

But really, who is oppressed? We all are to certain degrees. The trick is, making it matter to someone else. The great white man has historically been the most oppressive, murderous, gun-happy race on the face of the planet, yet we squabble about taxes and gas prices.

Very few of us know true suffering. We've been sitting on the lap of luxury for far too many generations. We have become numb to the suffering of our fellow man. We've enclosed ourselves in a bubble of comfort.

No, we are not "sheeple." We are pigs. Swine fat on greed, lust, and power.

My latest work.

in iacet confidimus

ignorantia in ignis

scientia in glaciem

in iacet confidimus

If you are reading this...

... you still matter to me.

Your Argument is Invalid

Whether you are right or wrong, if your argument is littered with blatant spelling or grammatical errors. it is rendered invalid in my eyes.

Part of this is due to the medium. Think of it this way. When I read something, I'm reading it with a voice in my head. If you misspell a few words, that voice becomes slurred, so in effect, it's like arguing with a drunk. Your errors may not, in reality, be representative of your actual intelligence level, but my perception of your intelligence level is impacted.

Also, when you sit and type something, your are representing yourself. You are making an impression on the reader. If that impression is sloppy, slurred, and full of hate speech, you will not get very far with me.

On a related note, short-hand works for texting and such, but make sure you are using common short-hand. If I have to sit here with my decoder ring (aka Google, Urban Dictionary), I won't even bother reading it. So, if you are trying to make a point, make it clear.

You can thank the merciless, sharp, and scathing criticism of my high school English teacher for this rant. As much as I loathed diagramming sentences, at least I can string together a coherent thought.

If I have struck a nerve and you are ready to turn away from your sinful ways, please see this.

The Chronicles of Depression, part 4: Aftermath

Christmas Eve. Post work day. Tired.

Think of tomorrow. It will be the only day off I get for the holiday. A day full of food, presents, family and friends. Then, back to the grind Monday morning, 6:30 AM. 

Since I started working, roughly 1998, I have not enjoyed an extended holiday break. It seems we always have to cram festivities where they fit. For some reason, this year already seems different. Previously, I had anxiously awaited Christmas, and since my daughter came along a few years ago, it injected a whole new level of excitement. This year, I've almost dreaded the day.

I'm not sure why, but this year seemed like so much more work, even though I've done very little. No shopping. no food preparation (yet). My wife has taken the brunt of the work and I feel guilty about it. But, like the anti-depressant commercial, I just feel like a deflated balloon. 

I can't help thinking about all of the tasks I have to do tomorrow. Start the food, drive to pick people up, gift exchanges, forcing smiles, eat the food, deal with family drama, take people home. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I had an extra day to recover. 

I know this seems like one big "Woe is me." I should just wake up, appreciate what I have, think of those who don't have family and friends to share the holiday with, but franking (and uncharacteristically) I simply don't care. 

Seasonal depression? Maybe. Burnout? Most probably. Self-loathing? Definitely. 

If you are reading this, I suppose I should apologize for bringing you down on such a joyous holiday. I won't. I guess the point is that I just wanted to make clear to certain people why I just don't seem as appreciative of their gestures as of late. 

Those who known me well, are well aware how deeply contemplative I am with everything that happens in my life. These recent weeks have left me without the energy to contemplate. When one is left without contemplation, one becomes confused. When one is confused, one is afraid. 

If there is one word that would describe my state of being of late, it would be disjointed. Writing about it, regardless of how many people read it, helps. This is my contemplation. This helps beat back the confusion. This helps keep the fear at bay. 

"I hate to say this, but this place is getting to me. I think I'm getting the Fear."