Monthly Archives: October 2011

Stupid Assholes Amok!

Some people ask me all the time why I want to run an alliance in a silly little MMO (Massively multi-player online) game called Guild Wars and that is a really good question. I run one to give myself a sense of purpose but also to provide a nice place for gamers to hang around. Well a few days ago things with one of the guilds in my alliance ZPM had finally come to a head and wow did it ever. I allowed them to help shape the alliance but they took it as they have total control over it and I was trying to find a way to tell them no you don’t control this I do in a politically correct way when I had to take some action with one of my people in my guild.

I was being bitched at that someone was talking about incest in ally chat and I looked at the log and the time of the incident and realized it was the big L that was the party they were talking about. Well I kicked him that re-invited him just so I knew I had his attention and I stated this in alliance chat and that is when the fun really began.

This flaming cunt that I didn’t like Tiny berated me in AC telling me that I was a tyrant yet this whole time I knew I was right as to who was talking about the shit they were bitching about. This went on for about ten minutes before I was finally tired of it and ready to just kick this pain in my ass guild once and for all but alas they had already left. Now I posted in AC am I a tyrant? And no one could even understand where that came from being I am one very relaxed hands off leader in general.

The real problem is that once I let ZPM help guide the alliance they took it as they control it and that just was not the case and they needed to know this fast. I also had a problem with someone telling me what to do in my fucking guild so yeah if they had not left they would have been kicked anyway. The biggest problem was I had no one on in my guild to back me up and my friend Clan wasn’t on either being he is always in my alliances under his guild. I was set adrift on an island with no support but I survived the assault anyway as always. This is one of the absolute joys of running an alliance but hey if I allow ZPM back in if they ever want to come back I will be the tyrant they claim that I am. The conditions will be as follows: I control your guild and I dictate what your guild does if you do not like it eat a dick and find another alliance. I will not ever let any guild dictate what I do in my guild and or alliance again and everyone there now knows this.

I think the expression is you give someone an inch and they take a mile and that is exactly what happened here and thankfully it resolved its self before I really got nasty with them. I think the funny part is that a lot of the people in that guild came over under two new guilds by former members so in all reality they got spiked after leaving my alliance in a huff. The icing on the cake? I was right as to whom offended them and that in and of its self makes me giggle at how stupid that cunt Tiny was…..

New Newspapers That Are Not Yet Dead…

Some say that the newspaper is dead and I have to disagree but they do need to change how the operate if they are to survive in today’s world. I am forty-years-old so I naturally grew up on newspapers in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s and even today I need to have one but how I get it has changed dramatically since those days. Back when I was growing up there was such a thing as a paperboy or a kid riding around on his bicycle throwing papers onto peoples porches I am quite sure those days are long gone but up until December of 2010 I still have my daily paper delivered in that fashion but an adult. Today I get The New York Times delivered via a 3G network on my Barnes & Noble Nook.

Growing up in New Jersey we wither got The Daily Record or The Star Ledger my father opting for the latter of the two most often. The Ledger was produced out of Newark NJ and it was a bigger more statewide paper is more then likely the reason because the Record was a smaller Morris and Sussex county paper where we actually lived. Everyday like clockwork there was the paper on the kitchen table with the crossword already filled out waiting for me and my sister to read at our leisure. These are some of the memories of my childhood that I cling to but all that has changed since.

I first started to read The New York Times when I had a current affairs class that required a write up of a news story daily. This began my love affair with the Times that over twenty-three years has not changed. Some people glean their news from the talking heads on TV, others by reading things online I prefer a paper still to this day. I just can’t explain why other then it is the most in depth way to know what is really going on in the world around us. TV news carries snippets and sound bites but the stories are just abbreviated to fit the time allotments so they can show commercials. Internet news I feel is the same way just in a more written form plus I never got the hang of reading something on a computer screen and retaining it for very long; this means I am tactile in nature. Enter the Nook.

When I first got it I was getting the Washington Post and I loved it to pieces but I have switched to The New York Times which to me is a better paper and more well designed for a digital delivery. Now I get all content no ads and I do not get the box scores or sigh the crossword puzzle but these are small sacrifices to pay for a $19.99 a month fee as apposed to around $72.00 it would cost me to actually buy the paper every day. As you can see I can get almost four months on my Nook for one month of the print edition. My local paper The Denver Post is also available for the Nook for $6.00 a month but I am not all that interested in it being I feel it is written for an eighth grade education level.

About a week ago I sent the Times an email telling them how they can place ads in my digital paper and not piss me off. It is a simple plan really and it would work to a tee to get them some ad revenue from my paper. How the paper works is every section has a skim the stories portion where I highlight what I want to read and hit a button and that article pops up on my screen so why not place ads there every four or five screens? This would force me to see the ad for at least two or three seconds as I continue to skim the section for the content I wish to read. Doing it this way I have no choice but to see the ad and it will not interrupt my reading of an article.

I feel that E-Readers like the Nook, the strangely named Kindle (It is a book reader and kindle is used to make fires is why I say it is a strange name) and the iPad are the way of the future for today’s newspapers to survive. The fact that there is zero production cost past formatting the paper for the device it is to be delivered on is also a huge plus for the papers. I love getting a paper everyday of the magnitude of the Times and having no paper to throw away when I am done reading it.

Now I also get The Nation and The New Yorker on my Nook and I am aware that this is taking revenue away from the USPS but at the same time it is so much cheaper to receive both this way that I cannot feel bad. They are both the same all content no ads and they can also use my ad suggestion to place a few ads in there for extra monies from my digital subscription. I am also aware that a lot of people cannot afford an E-Reader myself included if it was not for my sister buying it for me last Christmas but if someone that is paying for a paper or magazine looks at the savings from a digital subscription they just might be able to save enough for a basic entry level reader like I have. The only extra I have on mine is the G3 because I do not run a wireless network in my condo so I need it in order to get content from it.

I do not believe that newspapers and magazines are dead I just think they need to embrace this new method of delivery in order to survive today’s climate. I still by books but ninety percent of it is Literary Journals that I cannot get in a digital format. Now I stated earlier that I am tactile and the Nook fills this gap for me really nicely since I have to hold it in order to read on it but I will admit that I miss the smell of newspapers and books sometimes but the comfort of reading a really long book and not having to hold it is well worth it to me. I am not saying that this method of reading is the best for everyone but it seems to be for me with my carpel tunnel syndrome riddled hands. In conclusion I will just state that if it were not for my Nook there would be no way for me to be able to afford The Times or anything else so for those of us that are in poverty this may be our ticket to cheap well written content.

A Vapid Life

What does one do when their life is a total drag? I have been pondering this question for quite some time now and I have yet to come up with an answer to it. I guess the fact that my life is totally drama free is why I see it as so vapid all the time. I don’t really do a whole lot other then read various things like The New York Times, The New Yorker, The Nation, Literary Journals and sometimes I even read an actual book. Everything other then the Lit Journals is read on my Nook and I can’t say it is a horrible life just one that is not all that exciting is all.

I do know one thing about me and my life: every time I engage with a female as more then a friend I have more drama then a soap opera so I tend to avoid them like a deadly plague. I used to get my drama needs filled by Narcotics Anonymous meetings but I no longer go to those finding them to be trite and rather paltry these days. So I guess in the end I should not be complaining that my life is quite and simple these days but wow is it boring all the same.

I would have to gander to think that maybe part of this problem is that I am now forty and no longer a child with adult years tacked on for good measure. As Jessica by the Allman Brothers comes on Last.FM I can only ask what can I do to have some excitement in my life. I have yet to solve this little dilemma yet at the same time I am grateful I do not have any baby momma drama in my life. Ahhh sometimes I actually welcome this boredom but today I am not so I will just suck it up and keep going like everything else in my little world that happens.

What to do when totally bored out of one’s mind hmmm I guess all there is to do is put some jazz on my net radio and read the New York Times. I could watch some college football but I am not really into the games this year; same applies for NFL so what to do all day is the real question. Maybe I’ll play some Civilization IV or Age of Empires III now that I have a wireless trackball mouse. Sorry if this blog bored you….

Why I Write….

Why does one write? What is the real purpose of this love of a craft where it is nearly impossible to be published and known? What is the fascination with this seemingly endless set of failures that allures me to continue to try over and over? Maybe I am just a gluten for punishment in the fact that I continue to submit pieces just to be passed up over and over in the form of a rejection slip. I realize that this is a blog and anyone can create one these days so being published here is really no big fucking deal but it is still the only venue I have to get my writing out there for others to see so in essence I am stuck. I have over the past twenty-four years tried over and over to write an entire novel and I have had little to no success in this venture so I have switched to essay’s and short fiction. The trick is after all this time is to never give up hope that someday my timing will be perfect and I will be able to get into a literary journal or maybe even The New Yorker but that is one serious pipe dream.

The reason I write is to of course entertain people but there is more to it and that underlying cause is an obsession to be something in this life of mine. I have since young childhood felt like a total failure and maybe if I can become a published writer those feelings of being an unsuccessful person will dissipate a little. I realize that this is just another feeble attempt at finding something outside myself to fix what is wrong inside but at the same time it is totally different. This is a lifelong dream, a desire and want that after over half my life I have yet to achieve so that has to count for something doesn’t it? Right now I just don’t know if this is yet another pipe dream or if it can become something real and tangible.

I have been told many times over that my writing is amazing or incredible but this all comes from people that know me and are not in anyway connected to publishing so it’s appreciated yes but I need a publisher to say that. I am not saying I do not enjoy hearing what my friends and family think of my writing I do but that in and of its self will not get me to my goal of published. I sit here so often thinking of something to write an essay about or a short story culling from the often strange and bizarre life that I have lived but in the end I see nothing worth writing about after I stopped being homeless in 1999. Before I got off the streets of America my life was one adventure after another now it is dross, vapid and rather a boring.

I have over the past four or so years attempted to write my own little memoir and I always get stalled around April, 1999 when Columbine happened here in Denver. This tragedy occurred just a few days after I got my first apartment and from that point on my life really became a drag. Before this time I had a wonderful yet scary five years of wondering the roads of this grand country looking for a place to fit in; this was the exciting part of my life the rest is really meh to be honest. This memoir is digital in about forty pages, then a seventeen page typed on a typewriter mess and again digital. I want to write this I just have no idea how to tackle to boring parts and make them have some suspense so to speak. The problem being I had a place to live so all the drama of not knowing where I was gonna sleep or eat next is long gone so dull really encompasses the last twelve plus years of my life.

I think this is something that every writer encounters at one time or another so maybe I need to make this story more fictional then factual ala Kerouac. But this all leads back to why I write: to entertain people and to express myself in a way that I know I am good at. Maybe one day I will get published, maybe one day I will die before I am but I know this for certain I will never stop trying until I am no longer able to breathe.

To Kill A Reptile Scrap

Somewhere in the middle of a rotten sand dune in this God forsaken place called Scottdale, AZ., I saw the ultimate horror. These lizards and buzzards are driving me nuts man. I sat in this small housing devolopment watching these newbee’s make odobe homes. The mud spaltted on the wire frames like puke on asphault after a bad party. It was a horrible site watching these guys hump in the 110 degree heat all day for 5.50 an hour. The salve trade is alive and well in Scottsdale. The miserable swine just drive around in their air- conditioned cars yelling at the slaves. Most of them were working on Visas in search of the American Dream. The elusive American Dream, the only way to find it is to hump and hump and die, that is the American Dream. These poor bastards had no chance of seeing it, no chance at all. There is no sanity in the mist of insanity, there is no hope in a hopeless place.

That desert made me ill, my blood is way to thick for this kind of climate, and those fucking lizadrs mad me mad. By the second day of this field trip to hell I decided to take the lizard problem into my own hands. I took a nail gun and hunted down the scaly little fuckers. I was screaming incoherient babble from some other civilization like the Inca’s or the cave folks. By the second hour I was hot, tired and half mad with rage. Theses lizards were smart, I decided to study their habits, see how they live. The Newbee’s were just staring at me, like I was a freak, and I was a freak, but a freak with a mission. I needed to make the area lizzard free, no more of these things to haount me in my sleep. They were worse then the subway rats in New York City, at least the rats didn’t walk on me. God I loath those things. Somehow I decided I needed a little more fire power, so I grabed a newbee, and made a team asault tactic. The enemy is the the lizard. My comrade didn’t speak English at all, a severe disadvantage in the reptile wars. I could have spoken to the lizzard and got the same results, nothing but a blank stare into dreamland. Seeing I was in a real handicaped state now, I decided to dump him off in the outer rim, and let him hunt the reptile scum alone. As I crept around lookin for a victim I acentally shot two painters in the foot, opps, sorry mate. The owner saw my disterbance and my wepon and decided to call the pookey. I knew I was in trouble then, I had failed to get a scaled varmit killing lincence, highly ileagal in this part of the country. My only chace was to run, and run real fast. I had to get water and food for the journey back to Pheniox on foot, the sun is a scary beast at 3 pm. It made most men melt or spontainasly combust. I’ve seen it and it’s a scary site, just all of a sudden BAM!!!, blood and guts everywhere, the worst part is the poro sonofabitch has no idea he’s a gonner til its done. The smell is the worst, like burnt hair in a dryer, it just permeates everything, making the whole area smell like a kill house. The area is a death trap, it’s a sad thing, real sad.

My only real chance was to ditch the nail gun and take to the highway, and hitch for a person with either mercy or God in their life to pick me up. The desperation of the heat and the hate of the lizards began to make me revaluate my motives. Why was I here? How did I get here? Who was I looking for? Then I remembered it was Sadie, I was looking for Sadie. She was a chum of mine in Denver, and I lost her, she talked about going to Tuscon, or tuscan, I can’t remember the name of sand for God’s sake, grass yes, sand fuck no! Anyway I was here in this inhumane heat looking for her.

Circa Phoenix, Arizona 1997

Bliss

What is Bliss??
Is it that long awaited kiss??
Is it that morning dew on the grass
The ray’s of sun breaking through the glass
The sound of rain aginst a window
Snow fluttering downward to the Earth
The sound it makes
The crunch of boots apon it
What is bliss??

I do not really know what bliss is
Bliss is love
Bliss is hate
Bliss is whatever makes us smile
Just one more time
Somedays bliss is food
Somedays bliss is life
Somedays bliss is death
Somedays bliss is sleep
One day bliss was dope
This day bliss is saying nope

Bliss, bliss, bliss
What could it be?
Does it have a name
Is it a person, place or thing?
Is it just God in guise?
Or is it just me in reprise?
Someone tells me that they miss
Some good old bliss
But what if bliss never exist?
Then what?
Like the who’s in whoville
And the cat in the hat
No way I can really see that

Bliss O’ bliss
Where are thee?
Inside where it ought to be
Not in the job
Or the money
Or the partner
Bliss is inside or it isn’t at all
So if you trip and fall
Just get up
Dust off
And relize that bliss
Is in the heart and soul
Not in a kiss
Or an egg roll….

Circa 2000 Denver, Colorado

Quad Shot Americana With Room For Rage

Take your filth
Take your greed
Take your politicians
Take your corruption
Take your lies
Take it all Americana and stuff it up my ass
And blow my head off with a sneer

The media deceit
Look good
Look like a Hilfiger model
Pump up at the gym
Waste my life to look like a rock
So no one will want me anyway
Just a waste of muscle mass
To change the outside glass
And forget the despair inside
The loneliness
The pain
The anger
But I have to look like a model
The TV tells me so
The magazines tell me so
Calvin Klein tells me so
Simulated life of drama
Yeah, that’s me Americana

Open up
And eat the lies
Close myself
Be someone else
Let the world tell me who to be
How to act
Who to fuck
Simulated life of drama
Yeah, that’s me Americana

Watch the tube

Dream about the life they live
Fantasize about fucking the lead character
Masturbate to the fallacy
Cum to the media
Cum to the model
Cum to Cindy fucking Crawford
The lie is mine to live
The lie is there’s to sell
Be a product
Be a sell out
Who gives a fuck
I think I’m happy
I tell myself I’m happy
Yet the despair eats me all night long
Like a rat gnawing away
At my soul
Simulated life of drama
Yeah, that’s me Americana

Read GQ
Read Playboy
Jack off to Hustler and hide it away
Fabricate a life
Tell everyone how great I’m not
Lost the real me in the fantasy
Like a storybook
Or a shitty sitcom
I get stuck in a re-run
And no one gives a fuck anymore
Delude the truth daily
Tell it’s all bullshit
Living the lie is easier then the truth
Go on Springer
Get a web site
Sit in a chat
Tell it all to who ever cares
Simulated life of drama
Yeah that’s me Americana

Look for a leader

Find a loser
Look for a truth
Find a distortion
Look for a lover
Find a slut
Look for love
Find hate
Look for life
Find death
Look for God
Find nothing
Look for honesty
Find greed
Look for hell
I’m already there
Simulated life of drama
Yeah, that’s me fucking Americana.

Circa 1999 Denver, Colorado

On The Bus

Sitting on the bus
Took it from here to there
Up and down
Watched the people shuffle on
Watched them waltz off

Ran up the Fax
And back down again
Sat in the shade
Melted in the sun

Sitting on the bus
Going into the hood
Cruising through the poverty
Looking at the poor
Gawking at the bleakness of the D
From my seat
I can see it all
The rich
The poor
The lost
The found
And the forgotten
We are the low life’s
The scum
The one’s society
Left behind

Just moving along
As one
Sitting on the bus
Stream through the city
Seeing the greed
And corruption
From my Plexiglas view

Jump off there
Hop on here
Zip-zoom, stop, go
All the while
Sitting on the bus
Watching Denver flow
And crawl past my eyes
As I sit on the bus one more time

Circa 1999 Denver, Colorado

The Joys Of Mental Illness

Now comes a strange saga of a stupid cunt that was for but three sessions my therapist and how she put me into crisis mode not once but twice. The first instance came in our last session when she made me feel like there was something dramatically wrong with me because I see the world in black and white with no way at all to see gray. Now let me explain this a little more as to how I am the way I am and why.

I grew up in an extremely shrink wrapped world of small town America on the East Coast in a very new and often horrible special education system. I was placed there because at the age of five I was declared “Emotionally Disturbed” by the Child Study Team. Now the reality of the situation is my mother got duped into believing that I was crazy but in all honesty I got crazy from being treated like I was crazy. This suggests that some of my current mental illness issues may have also been caused by the poor treatment that I had received as a child in a system that I did not belong in. I can state this because my IQ is in all actuality a 148 yet I spent my entire childhood into my early adult years being treated like a total idiot. This of course caused damage and when I finally found out my IQ around age twenty or so I was very angry and devastated at the same time. I felt like my whole life was a lie and that an education was stolen from me by one bad decision my mother made. I have since let all of this rage go for what happened happened and I cannot change this fact but it also has made me very anti-social and there is a possibility that I have Borderline Personality Disorder from all of this. I also forgave my mother for this critical mistake years ago; really she did what she thought was best for me but in the end it was like chopping off my hands and telling me to learn to draw.

Now I first was told I have rapid-cycle bi-polar disorder when I was around age twenty-two or so and that wasn’t good news but it did answer a lot of my underlying questions as to why I was the way I was. I was placed on Lithium and that was that but this was just one of a long stream of bad meds I took over the next eighteen years; there was no real hope until I was placed on Saphris about six months ago. This was the first med that actually worked and it was a very welcome relief at this point. I will get to that later but first I need to explain what the worst part of having a mental illness is. Most of the professionals that I have spoken to until Carolyn never listened to me thinking they knew what it was like to have this illness from what they read in a book. This is a very difficult place to be when one is looking for help from the madness and insanity of manic depression. After a number of years I just learned to understand that people in the mental health field are simply walking walls. Unless one has actually experienced this one cannot imagine what it’s like to never be heard regardless of whom I was talking to. This all changed with Carolyn though.

I met Carolyn in 2003 when I first went to –MH after finding out I lived in the proper county to be a patient there. Something that has never occurred in my life happened that day: She actually listened to me. I was in a state of absolute shock and dismay at the same time and I even told her this and why. Over the next seven and a half years I would go see her as scheduled only missing one appointment in all that time due to a being let down after hitting crisis mode for the first time ever after seven years going there. I guess over that time I got spoiled but then at a little over seven years she suggested I go to therapy after I told her about the fictional character Lisbeth Salander having the same diagnosis as myself in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larrson. She was also labeled Emotionally Disturbed (this was actually the first time I saw these two words together since I read my school records over two decades ago) and after reading that book I was easily able to see a lot of my own character traits in her. This wasn’t a rude awakening it was actually a comfort to know that I am not the only person (although she was fictional she had to be based on a real person Larrson knew of because it was too dead on to be just a work of pure fiction) that is the way I am.

Well I told Carolyn about Lisbeth and she and I agreed that maybe I need therapy to look at these problems I have and it was at its core merely a suggestion and nothing more; but when Carolyn says jump I ask how high and off what bridge I trusted her that much. I began voluntary therapy with a guy named Bruce and it was going great because I wanted to be there and he and I saw eye to eye being we are both assholes at the core. The sessions were very productive and went on for a few months before he abruptly left the organization. Carolyn was very pleased with my progress as was I but it ended so quickly and with no notice that I felt very crestfallen and despondent for a while. No I felt let down. Enter the stupid cunt.

I was then sent to a female therapist and other then the fact that she was rather attractive she was a complete and total idiot. By this time Carolyn moved on to a new job so I was without my savior and doctor after over seven plus years. The first session was her asking me over and over why I was in therapy and my answer never changed no matter how many ways or times she asked me: because Carolyn suggested I come to therapy. She seemed to not hear me every time I said it so I was back to where I spent most of my life in mental health; being ignored. The second session was much of the same then came session three where she put me in crisis for the first time.

We were again talking about why I am in therapy and the topic was getting old and irritating so I tried to change it with some success. No wait first she asked me about becoming a Muslim and my response was you are not my spiritual adviser so really that is none of your business; this of course pissed her off but she was stonewalled on the subject so we moved on. I am not sure how it came up but we got to my black and white thinking and she told me over and over that the world is gray and I do not and cannot see grays only black and white. She then proceeded to make me feel like I was a total freak and that there was something wrong with me because I see things as either on or off and no other way. I got up and left her office and told her on the way out that maybe if you saw the world in black and white your life would be a whole lot easier.

That night I really started to feel bad and suicide crept into the small pockets of my mind where resistance was low. I was in a panic but I held on and the next day I asked all the people in my life about my way of thinking and it seems that they all agree it is one of my more charming traits. As one friend said they like that I am either all in or all out and they never have to wonder about it. Well I felt better and a few weeks later the cunt called back. I had her call me a few days ago and she proceeded to tell me a straight up lie in order to regain control of me which she will never get. As we talked she told me that if I do not go to therapy I cannot get my medications. I hung up with her on a nice “fuck you” after explaining to her that if I am not there on my own free will I will get nothing out of sessions anyway but she refused to listen to me as per most people I know. I went into crisis mode again for a few hours until one of the supervisors called me to tell me that there is no requirement for me to go to therapy at all if I do not want to thus proving that the cunt lied to me.

Now I have been going to this organization for over eight years now and that was the first time I was ever told that I had to have a therapist to get meds but the cunt made it sound like it has always been that way there which I knew had to be a bold faced lie and it was. I told the person that called me that the cunt is dead to me and if she see’s me in the hallway tell her to totally ignore me or I will lash out and it won’t be nice when I do. Believe you me I would love to rip her to shreds and make her feel as small as she made me feel but I need this place for my psych meds so I can’t no matter how badly I wish to.

So this is how this dumb numb cunt put me in crisis twice and I sure hope she gets fired over it because she made my life a living hell twice over her ego and bullshit. I do not know what happened to her nor will I ever be told but I can only hope that I am not the only patient she has done this to so they see a pattern and remove her from their facility although I hope none of the other patients fell into harms way in the process. So yeah I guess the lesson learned here is that things are back to the way they used to be I am just going to be ignored again for most people in the psych industry are merely walls with degrees.

Occupy Denver No More!

With the protest called “Occupy Denver” now being broken up by the oppressors that call themselves officers I can only wonder what the fuck? Now I am not one to state that protests are a bad thing or a waste of time but I am afraid this one is. I have no love for the rich and powerful but under our current system of capitalism I see this as one huge waste of time. We have a system that is srt up to have a huge disparity between the rich like Bill Gates and the poor like me (I live well under the poverty line). I am not bitching or blaming the rich for my problems for this is a free country where anyone can become rich and powerful if they have the right idea and of course the proper timing.

Now I have been trying to write something for over twenty years that is worthy of being published and again it’s all about timing more then anything but that is how it works in America. Now I was downtown a few days ago and I saw how the protest developed from about five or six people to a few hundred with tents and what looked like someone selling food and other shit. I was greatly annoyed by this because I viewed it as complete and total hypocrisy being someone was there trying to make a buck off the protesters. Am I wrong? I don’t think so but this is my opinion and my blog so if you disagree tell me I will not delete your comments.

In all honesty I have looked at these ongoing protests as just another excuse for what Henry David Thoreau called “Civil Disobedience” being it was a protest for something that is never going to change until we change our entire system of government here. What is my suggestion? Well before I state it I want to acknowledge that Denmark is not perfect and they do have high taxes and one called a “Mommy Tax” but I feel that open-market socialism is a better bet than this Republic that we live under now. People are not being arrested here in Denver just to give an update to the situation at hand.

I am not a fan of our system and I have always found the whole concept of money to be rather silly but it is what we have and now there seems to be a whole lot of pissed off people that want change but will it ever come? I would have to gander to state nope it will not because those in power do not want to lose that same power that has corrupted our nation and our government. I would have to assume that for myself that if I was in power I wouldn’t want to relent it either but since I have none I want some for this is human nature at its core. I will explore my idea in another blog for it is far to complicated to put into this one on the protests I am afraid.

Do I want a better system? Yes I do but it will not happen in my lifetime nor anyone’s that is alive today. Now for a point in case there was protests in Seattle in 1999 aginst the WTO (World Trade Organization) and the riots did not start until a bunch of Denver Police showed up. Now the reason that the oppressors stated for breaking up the protests is there is an over-night camping ban in the parks and I cannot disagree with this if it is a law but again this law is to stop the homeless from camping so again the extreme poor get fucked in the ass. This is a very curious case of who is really right? There are laws that are being broken yes but at the same time it seems more like mass censorship at the same time by the oppressors that are hiding behind bullshit laws. Who is right and who is wrong? I am not really sure if there is anyone that is either at this point but if we do not scream at the deaf ears on the Beltway nothing will ever change….