Articulated Vulgarities

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Admit it: you clicked that link out of sheer, morbid curiosity, didn't you?  You are a victim of Rule 34: If it exists, there is porn of it.  I'm sure somewhere on the internet, there is an animated gif of the Blogger logo having sex with the WordPress logo, but that's not what you're going to see here.  This is a blog post about blogging.  I know, how very meta, right? 

I've been blogging for many years.  I suppose that's technically a bit misleading.  I've had blogs for many years.  How often I use them is another matter.  I'm from the old school days when LiveJournal was by invitation only.  Does anyone remember LiveJournal?  It was sort of the MySpace of blogging - the place where angsty kids went to moan about how their parents didn't understand them and how emo bands like My Broken Heart Bleeds Endlessly For You, Well of Pain, Dark Sorrow Mascara, and Castrated Emotions speak to them on a profoundly deep level.  I think those are all emo bands.  Then TypePad and WordPress and Blogger and a million other sites sprung up, and people started socially networking, and the long, drawn out, self-pitying blog posts became a constant, never-ending, mind-numbing stream of self-pitying status updates instead.  Viva progress!

Anyhow, the point is, blogging and I go way back.  I was blogging before it was cool.  I was part of a semi-exclusive club (that included the camgirl who gave me my invite).  Sometimes I'd write something moderately funny, but most times I was recounting the completely mundane.  There are only so many ways you can say you played video games all day, however, so eventually I dropped out of the game.  Besides, blogging had become too mainstream.  Hipster Matt is hipster.

When I met my friend Ashley, it was through her blog, which I had creepily stalked for several months before I made my first comment.  I recognized her from work, and her blog was the equivalent of me hiding in the bushes outside of her house, peering in at her family.  I soon realized we had many things in common (Maxinquaye FTW)and we became friends.  I also realized she was a much better writer than I was.  She could make the most mundane things hilarious and entertaining.  On the upside, I realized how much I missed blogging, so I returned - this time to this here TypePad blog - with a renewed focus.

Instead of a window into my boring life, I decided to try writing for an audience.  An audience I didn't have.  I'm under no delusions: Nobody is reading this.  You're off reading your Facebooks, and your Twitters, and watching the Tubes meant just for You, and checking out free porn.  No trip to the internet is complete with a visit to a porn site.  Er...so I've been told.  I would never look at that abominable stuff.  I am a fine, upstanding citizen. 

But in case you are actually reading this (and let's be honest, since I mentioned porn, you're thinking about it now even if you weren't before), I hope you are entertained.  Not sincerely, but I mean, I hope you at least recognize the humor.  Much like Facebook and Twitter, I find that recapping a day's events doesn't make for the most exciting content.  Who I am is not important, but what I have to say, well... That's not very important either.  But it might be funny if you have a twisted, warped, wholly inappropriate sense of humor!  If you like snarky, sarcastic, sharp wit, then I'm sure there are plenty of other blogs you could visit.  Hell, you could probably find something a lot funnier on YouTube.  Why are you here?  Who the hell are you people?!  Quit stalking me!

My blog (and likewise, my Twitter) is a vehicle for my rather strange, often offensive sense of humor - and I'm the driver.  My dirty little confession is that I have another blog - a secret blog hardly anybody knows about.  I felt like I wanted something new, as one does when they've been in a committed relationship for so long.  TypePad and I had our fun, but I felt like she had just become a gold-digger, asking for $8.95 a month for the privelege of using her.  Man, I could get all the words I needed for free over at WordPress!  My only competition for blogs is other blogs, so why not spread the love around and eventually start ignoring that one too?  One day, I will have an unused blog on every available service.  Because you gotta have goals.

The truth of the matter is that, for a while, I felt like I could not be myself on this blog.  Too many people knew about it, and I couldn't say what I wanted to say for fear of unintentionally offending someone.  Then I thought: fuck it.  Indeed, most of this blog post is an amalgamation of several posts from that other blog - as was my recent Facebook post, and my post about people who bring babies into the office, among others (because I am lazy and copy-pasting is easy).  The TypePad versions are actually longer and even more abrasive, so you're kind of getting the director's cut of those posts. 

As predicted, I stopped using that blog because I felt more uncomfortable censoring myself than I did just posting whatever I wanted here.  I pay for this blog, and I shouldn't feel obligated to write anything other than what I feel like. 

This is my blog, and very little of it is serious.  Rare exceptions aside, it's not a window into my life.  It's more like a crazed shut-in shouting obscenities at passersby through the mail slot of his front door.  If you take offense to anything on here, that's your problem, not mine.  Rest assured, I am not referring specifically to anyone.  If a post does offend you, don't bother telling me about it.  I can promise you I won't care.  If you want to pay the $9 a month for my TypePad subscription, then you can control the content.  Until that day, I'm going back to posting whatever I feel like without worrying about how it may be received. 

The Internet Time Machine

Did you know you can find a real, working time machine on this here internet?  It’s true!  Just go to www.facebook.com, and it’s just like being back in high school!  What’s even more amazing is that even though it seems like you’re going back in time, you’re actually hurdling forward.  Just look at the clock.  I bet you didn’t even realize an hour had passed, did you?

Facebook is the internet’s greatest timesink.  It’s where people go to whine about their totally unimportant problems (“OMG Target is out of my shampoo!  FML!”), cook up drama with a side of unintentional irony (“SOME PEOPLE need to learn how to keep their mouths shut!  If you have a problem with me, SAY IT TO MY FACE instead of being a COWARD!”), and share all the most uninteresting things they’ve done that day with the 200 strangers they’re “friends” with (“Went grocery shopping.”).

What is it about Facebook that turns all of its users into 15-year-old high school girls?  The site is a haven for the worst kind of narcissism, as evidenced by the amount of times per day I see this preface a status update: “Let’s see who REALLY reads my status updates…”  No one.  No one reads them.  Do you know why?  Because 98% of them are reposts they’ve probably seen elsewhere, and the other 2% aren’t the least bit interesting.

There are several kinds of Facebook users.  There are the Overly Dramatic Manic Depressives – the people who take every opportunity to blow everything out of proportion and whine about how horrible their lives are... from the comfort of their homes, while using their computer to post on Facebook via their, most-likely, high-speed internet service.  They often call others out for doing the same shit they’re doing in that very status update.  They’re also experts of the tactic known as Vaguebooking – posting an intentionally cryptic status to draw sympathy and concern from others.  These include, but are not limited to, “Sigh,” "FML," “So upset right now!” (please note, this status is usually followed by at least a dozen exclamation points, but in the name of good grammar I cannot, in good conscience, bring myself to type that way), and “I wish I’d done things differently…”  We do too.  We all wish you had never signed up for a Facebook account.

Then there are the gullible people who believe anything they read, such as the oft-circulated and totally fictional rumor that Facebook is going to start charging to use the site.  This occurs every time there’s a major interface change, and the same people always seem to fall for it.  I'd be willing to bet a good percentage of them have also tried to claim their inexplicable inheritance from a Nigerian Prince at some point in their lives.  These same people also threaten to leave every time there is an interface change, but sadly they never follow through.  My news feed is instead clogged with people posting images and status updates berating the new changes and instructions for getting the “Old Facebook” back.  In several days, they get used to it, then the cycle repeats when the next big change occurs.  If Facebook changing its user interface is the biggest, most important problem in your life, consider yourself lucky.

Facebook (and, likewise, Twitter) are never going to start charging to use their services.  Do you know why?  Because nobody would pay to read your boring status updates.  I don't care how cleverly you word it, nobody is going to pay a monthly fee for the privelege of reading that you had dinner at Chili's followed by a night of watching American Idol and doing laundry.  You can dress it up with clichés like addressing inanimate objects directly ("Dear Laundry..."), but it isn't any more interesting to anyone. 

Then you have the Politicos – the folks who repost long-winded, uninformed political rants for their party of choice.  I know it’s your Facebook account and you can use it how you see fit, but on the other hand, shut the fuck up.  Nobody goes to a social networking site to read your narrow-minded political ideals.  You aren’t strengthening your cause.  All you’re doing is making people hate you and your beliefs.

The site does have a handful of good uses.  Through Facebook, I’ve reconnected with several old friends (I know, it’s hard to believe that anybody likes me), and made a few new ones, but those uses are often buried under the avalanche of “PLEASE REPOST THIS MESSAGE!” messages.

Those are my favorite statuses.  "I bet no one has the guts to repost this..." 
Not reposting a viral status message is not an indication of a lack of guts or courage; it's an indication that you attribute way too much importance to posts on Facebook.  Do people honestly think that reposting a message on Facebook in support of a cause celebre means anything to anybody?  How about instead of copy-pasting a status message, you make a donation to the cause you feel is so important you’re compelled to beg everyone else on your friends list to repost it?  Stop patting yourself on the back for your half-assed activism.  You reposted a viral video or message.  You didn't save a life, you're not a hero, and nothing has ever been solved because of a Facebook status.

Last, but certainly not least, there are the Announcers.  These are the people who have to share literally everything that happens to them, no matter what.  Whether it's getting an oil change, or being attacked by a grizzly bear, it goes on Facebook - even if it puts their life at risk.  "I just got shot, but before I call the ambulance, I wanted to let all my FB friendz knoooooowwwwww! <3"  (Side note: When did adding extra letters to words become the new hotness?  For that matter, stop truncating words that have no business being shortened.  "Know" is spelled K-N-O-W, not K-N-O, and "thought" is spelled T-H-O-U-G-H-T, not T-H-O-T.  You have time for those extra letters.  You don't look cool, you look like you failed grade/primary school.)

I'm guilty of some of these things too, which just proves my point that it turns everyone into high school freshmen.  In my defense, I rarely use Facebook at all.  I don't understand how people can spend hours on there.  I can barely find enough to keep me occupied for 90 seconds.  Oh, and for the love of God, stop sending me game requests!  I will never respond to them.  I don't care if you need help on your imaginary farm or you want me to join your imaginary mafia.  If I'm going to be glued to my computer, playing a game, it's going to be something fun, not a shitty browser game that results in all my personal information being sold and traded around the internet like a baseball card.

The one thing I want to leave you with about Facebook is this: It doesn’t matter who you are, man or woman, there is someone on your friends list who is a creepy stalker and at some point they have masturbated to your photos.  Have fun on Facebook, everybody!

Land of the free? Somebody lied.

You may have heard that the Department of Justice and the FBI recently shut down the free file hosting site MegaUpload, one of the largest of its kind of the internet.  Those in charge, including rapper Swizz Beats, stand to face some pretty hefty jailtime for the site, which notoriously hosted everything from pirated games, movies, music, and everything in between.

I'm going to be honest: MegaUpload was, at its heart, a repository for piracy.  It allowed users to upload and download files more or less anonymously, had comparatively relaxed restrictions on download limits, and excellent speeds, making it the go-to spot for people to "share" files.  Illegal files, mostly.

I can't argue that MegaUpload, and similar sites like RapidShare, are effectively an easy way to pirate copyrighted goods.  I can't even really fault the entertainment industry for attempting to stop rampant piracy, though I think they are disingenuous about their reasons.  No corporate record company gives a shit about protecting its artists; they care about protecting their investments.  If Warner Bros. advances a director millions of dollars for a film project, you can be damn sure they want to recoup that money.  It has nothing to do with keeping gaffers, electricians, and lighting guys employed, as their patronizing anti-piracy commercials suggest.  You're not hurting the little guys working behind the scenes on movie sets.  They're all unionized.  They're just worried about lost ticket sales at the box office.

Digression aside, I can't fault corporations for trying to protect what's theirs.  As harmless as it seems to the end user, piracy is piracy, and however much those of us who've downloaded something illegally like to try and rationalize and justify it, it is ostensibly stealing.

Who I can blame, however, is the FBI and the Department of Justice.  If this isn't another sign that corporations run this country, I don't know what is.  There is nothing more pressing than shutting down file sharing sites?  There are no matters of national security more important than MegaUpload hosting the new Taylor Swift album on its servers? 

Let me break this down for you, as a somewhat experienced computer user: There are two kinds of pirates.  There's the average computer user - the kind of person who overheard someone talking about torrents and rushed to Wikipedia to find out what they are.  They still use peer-to-peer applications like Limewire and their computers are probably infected with dozens, if not hundreds, of trojans and malware programs. 

Then there are those who know what they're doing.  They know how to cover their tracks.  Believe it or not, the FBI is less concerned about these folks.  Why, you might ask?  Because those people have been around since the dawn of computers.  They know what they're doing, and they're not afraid.  It's easy to make an example out of a suburban mom who downloaded the latest Now That's What I Call Music CD, but much harder to track down the people who ripped and uploaded it weeks before it hit store shelves.

The people who excel at piracy ran elite BBSes in the infancy of the internet as we know it.  They're the people who invented torrents in the first place.  They're the ones who rarely, if ever, get caught, and they're the ones who will simply find a new way around whatever obstacle the DoJ puts up.

The FBI and the Department of Justice are fighting a losing battle.  You can shut down file hosting services, but eventually the pirates will just find something else.  First it was BBSes.  Then it was newsgroups, which are still around to this day.  Then P2P programs like Napster and Kazaa brought piracy out of the realm of the computer savvy and into the public conscious, and before you knew it, 12-year-old Jimmy and drunken college kids were downloading the new Eminem CD weeks before its street date, thinking they were some badass hackers sticking it to the man.

In light of the MegaUpload bust, many other hosting services have either voluntarily shut down, or are being shut down.  It seems like a big victory for the anti-piracy crusaders, but it's really not.  There are still newsgroups.  There are still torrents.  There are still myriad ways for tech savvy users to get what they want without having to pay for it.  You will never stop piracy.  Those old enough to remember the days of sending cassette tapes through the mail will remember the empty threats that surrounded such actions.  Was anyone ever arrested for trading cassettes?  Cassettes became CDs, and CDs became mp3s, and mp3s became flac files (for the audio snobs among us).  It's an increasingly digital world, and there's no stopping it.

The record companies, the Motion Picture Association of America, and the so-called good guys will tout this as a big victory.  They'll say they're protecting American jobs and innovation, protecting us from the horrible threat posed by piracy and "rogue foreign websites," to use the vernacular of the recently-defeated SOPA and PIPA bills.  Personally, I'd rather they spend a little more time worrying about Iran building nuclear weapons and the crazed 20-something son of a deceased crazed dictator in North Korea than some kid downloading a surreptitiously recorded shaky cam video of Mission: Impossible: Ghost Protocol. 

Piracy has always been around, and it will always be around.  It will go back to being underground for a while in light of recent events, but it will rise again when the newest, simplest method of delivery makes it available to all once more.  It's inevitable, and it's a waste of time to try and stop it because the fact is while you may deter the average citizen, you will never scare or stop the other group.

When Wikipedia and several other websites instituted a blackout in protest of the Stop Online Piracy Act and Protect IP Acts on January 18th, Christopher Dodd, the CEO of the MPAA, not only threatened to pull financial support from politicians who refused to support their cause, he made the ironic statement that the blackout was "an abuse of power."  Forgetting for a moment that his threat could be construed as a similar offense, I would like to recognize his powers of perception. 

You're right, Chris.  We do have the power.  We do.  Not you.  You may have the money, but if our increasingly technology-reliant world has proven anything, it's that money does not necessarily equal power anymore.  Information is practically instantaneous in the age of the internet, and I've seen men and women undone by it.  Private e-mails, text messages, and classified documents are all on the web for anyone to see.  One need not look much further than Wikileaks to see the impact the internet has had on modern society.  I'd like you to keep that in mind, Chris.  We have the power, and it is not a good idea to incur the wrath of the internet elite.

Celebrate your small victory now, corporations and intelligence agencies, for in the grand scheme of things it won't matter.  One year from now, piracy will be as accessible as it ever was, and when you put a stop to that, the underground scene will change tactics once more.  To quote Ian Malcolm from Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park, "Life finds a way."  So, too, will the pirates. 

Good night and good luck, gentlemen.  You're going to need it.

God's Great Plan

"Bullshit is all the reasons we give for living.  And if we can't think up any reasons of our own, we always have the God bullshit.  We don't know why we're going through all this pointless pain, humiliation, decays, so there better be someone somewhere who does know.  That's the God bullshit.  And then, there's the noble man bullshit; that man is a noble creature that can order his own world.  Who needs God?  Well, if there's anybody out there that can look around this demented slaughterhouse of a world we live in and tell me that man is a noble creature, believe me: that man is full of bullshit."

The soliloquy you just read was delivered by Peter Finch in the role of downtrodden, world-weary news anchor Howard Beale in the 1976 classic film Network.  Beale, disenfranchised with society, and his role as an influential newsman, uttered those prophetic words on the air during one of his final broadcasts for the fictional Union Broadcasting System (UBS). 

Over the course of the five months (has it been that long already?), I've heard many people say that Deborah's passing was all part of God's Great Plan.  We may not understand it yet, but there's a reason for everything.

To that, I say: bullshit.

Organized religion is one of the most vile, evil things in the world.  It teaches people to hate, fear, and judge others who may hold different beliefs or live a different lifestyle than their own.  People do and say awful things in the name of organized religion - and I'm talking about all organized religions.  Wars are fought, innocent people are killed, and people are harrassed for their beliefs.

Since I was very young, I came to several beliefs about the existence of God.  God does exist, of that I was certain (or as certain as one could be without any hard evidence, but that's what the word "faith" means).  There is historical evidence of the existence of Jesus Christ, though scholars now debate the time of his birth and death.  His resurrection is, of course, what causes the most contention. 

It's true, there is little indisputable proof that Jesus Christ, the son of God, rose from the grave or so loved the world that he died for our sins.  Oh sure, there's the Bible, but - and what I'm about to say will no doubt be controversial to many of you - I have always viewed the Good Book as sort of like the Telephone Game.  There is a reason there are different versions of the Bible, and throughout multiple revisions, edits, and changes, the original message may have become contaminated along the way. 

Having said that, the core tenets of the Bible remain strong foundations to live your life by.  You shouldn't kill, steal, commit adultery, take advantage of others, or worship material things.  I think of the Bible as sort of a collection of parables - not unlike fairy tales - that should be used as a guide to live a good, honest life.  Do I believe there was a talking snake or a boat big enough to carry two of every species of animal?  No, because I'm a logical person and I see the physical impossibility of such things.  Considering how many species of animal there are in the world, the boat itself would have to be more than half the size of the planet to carry two of them all.  Suggesting there were fewer animals back then only raises the question of where the rest came from, since evolution and creationism do not go hand-in-hand for many people.

What I choose to believe may be hard for some people to accept or understand, but so much of organized religion preaches belief through fear.  Deborah and I didn't even see eye-to-eye on our beliefs, though we ultimately reached the same basic conclusion, so I don't expect anyone else to.

All my life, I chose not to believe in the vengeful God you heard about in the sermons of your youth.  The God who would condemn you to an eternity of fire and brimstone if you didn't follow a very specific set of rules, or most egregiously, didn't believe in Him.  I had often heard atheists and agnostics say, "If there really is a God, how could he let bad things happen to good people?"  The answer, I thought, was simple: God does not play favorites.  As hard as that may be to accept, God does not get involved in our lives.  He sits back and lets us make our own choices, then judges our actions when our time comes.  God doesn't create murderers, idolaters, warmongers, rapists, thieves, and all the evil people of society any more than he creates the pillars of integrity and kindness - at least, not directly. 

After Deborah was abruptly taken from me, I tried to rationalize it.  I tried to believe in the notion that it's all part of the "Great Plan," but several thoughts continued to nag at me.  If, indeed, life is pre-ordained, and we are all merely playing our part in accordance with our predetermined destiny, what becomes of free will? 

Think about it.  God gave us free will, correct?  If life was pre-ordained, doesn't that contradict the very notion of free will?  If everything we do is part of some plan - every step we take, every decision we make - then we really don't have free will, do we?  If life is all predetermined, then by implication God is responsible for murderers, rapists, and all the evils of society because, for some reason we can't fathom, it was part of His plan.  I don't know about you, but I sure don't want to believe in that.

"Let me give you a little inside information about God.  God likes to watch.  He's a prankster.  Think about it: He gives man instincts.  He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do - I swear for His own amusement, His own private, cosmic gag reel - He sets the rules in opposition.  It's the goof of all time.  Look, but don't touch.  Touch, but don't taste.  Taste, don't swallow.  And whil you're jumping from one foor to the next, what is He doing?  He's laughing His sick fucking ass off!  He's a tight-ass!  He's a sadist!  He's an absentee landlord!  Worship that?!  Never!"

Al Pacino delivered those lines as John Milton, the earthly guise of the Devil himself, in the 1997 film The Devil's Advocate. 

Right now, some of you are probably mortified.  You're praying for my soul, and you're already typing up angry, outraged responses, or pleas for me to rejoin the flock.  "Beg for God's forgiveness."  "God loves you, don't turn your back on Him."  Do me a favor.  Stop.  Hit delete.  Don't bother.  If anyone should be seeking forgiveness, it's God. 

There are two options, the way I see it.  First, God is as I always suspected - omnipresent, ever-watching.  Watching, not doing.  He sits back and watches His creation take shape.  He watches us suffer, watches families torn apart by violence, cities leveled by natural disasters, and babies starve to death.  He watches it all... but He doesn't do anything about it. 

If God doesn't get involved, He cannot be responsible for your blessings, but by way of inaction is responsible for all of life's hardships, ugliness, and sorrow.  How could I worship something that has the power to make things better, but simply chooses not to?

The second option is that we are following a cosmic plan.  Free will is a myth that makes us feel like we're in control of our lives, but in reality we're all just playing our roles.  The logical conundrums in this scenario are almost too numerous to point out.

We are taught that God is infallible.  That's the biggest argument against the theory of evolution - the implication that God made a mistake and changed something, or that He is not in complete control.  Fine.  But if God is infallible, that means He is responsible for everything that happens, good and evil.  Sure, God got you that great job, blessed you with a beautiful family, and handed you that bitchin' sports car you've always dreamed about.  But he also created Ed Gein, Jeffrey Dahmer, Osama bin Laden, Ted Kaczynski, Adolf Hitler... You see, God cannot only be responsible for the good and not the bad if, indeed, we are all acting in accordance with the plan - and free will could not logically co-exist with the plan, because that implies that God is not in complete control. 

So which is it?  Does it even matter?  Why should I thank God for my blessings, but refrain from blaming Him for my pain?  Why does He get a free pass?  How can anyone or anything receive all the credit and none of the blame if it supposedly created the entire world and life as we know it? 

Of course, there is always the third option: that God does not exist.  Neither science nor religion has been able to adequately and definitively prove how all life began, after all, so I have to allow for the possibility that Deborah's death, and all of life's misfortunes, are a simple case of mathematics.  Bad things happen, and sooner or later, you or someone you know are bound to be a statistic.  In this particular example, I'm told Deborah had roughly a four percent chance of surviving.  Those are nearly impossible odds, and unsurprisingly they did not work out in her favor.  Our bodies weren't built to last, and there is so much about them we still don't understand.

We choose to believe in the afterlife because it comforts us.  For many, it gives people something to strive for - a reason to live a good life.  It is a frightening thought that death is the end, I admit.  It's a thought that has kept me up at night and given me anxiety attacks.  The idea that I will simply cease to be, and all of my memories, my experiences, will fade away with me is not one I prefer to entertain.  I would like to believe that the person I am will continue on after my physical body has decayed.  But how can I put my faith in anything that would let so many bad things happen?  Moreover, why should I need convincing that living a good life is the right thing to do in the first place?  Shouldn't we all strive for peace, prosperity, and happiness, regardless of whether or not it results in a potential reward when we die?  Most importantly, why should I grovel at anyone else's altar for things I've worked hard for and be thankful when they're taken away?

Yes, I'm angry.  I've been angry since July 6th, 2011 when Deborah died at just 33 years of age, and if you have any common sense you will shut up.  If you've read this far, you've done so of your own volition.  This is my blog, and these are my feelings, and you will not change them, so don't even try.  You can quietly judge me as a heretic in the comfort of your own homes all you'd like, but I don't want to read your comments, opinions, suggestions, or preaching.  Shut your mouths.  Stop typing that comment or that e-mail.  Do not try to win me back because all you will succeed in doing is making me angrier, and this time my anger will be directed at you.

I don't want to hear about how Deborah's death has a greater meaning and we just can't comprehend it now, because I don't believe it and it doesn't change the pure logic that God is either directly or indirectly responsible for the suffering of all humanity, whether through His plan or through observation rather than interaction.  If God exists, maybe He is not loving and merciful.  Maybe He is vindictive and arrogant.  How dare we question His plan?!  How dare we not worship Him?!  How dare we not thank Him for everything we work for.  God didn't give me a job.  God didn't buy me a car.  God doesn't pay my mortgage.  God didn't win Deborah's heart.  I earned all those things through hard work, and you're fucking right I'm proud of myself, so if pride is a sin then you might as well send me to Hell.  

Maybe God is a big kid with a magnifying glass and we're all ants.  He's a schoolyard bully, demanding our lunch money and we give it to Him out of fear of retribution.  I bet most people who read this post will react with revulsion and call it blasphemous, but if God is as loving, forgiving, and understanding as you'd preach, what would it matter what I say or believe?  Would He not understand my anger, my sadness?  Were we not created as imperfect beings and, thusly, should we not be forgiven for our imperfections, fears, doubts, and faults?  Instead, He demands homage.  He demands recognition.  He demands credit for everything we accomplish, but we absolve Him of all blame for fear that he will deny us entry into his exclusive club.  He's a cosmic bouncer with an inferiority complex, standing behind His velvet rope and taking out His issues on people who he feels have wronged Him. 

You're all free to believe whatever you want, whether that's in the Christian God, an alternative deity, universal forces, multiple gods, or nothing at all.  All I ask is that you extend me the same courtesy and do not try to convince me of anything opposite of all I've said here.  I will not live my life in fear of eternal damnation or in hopes of salvation.  I will not live my life for anyone other than myself.  From this point forward, I will live my life the best way I see fit - in a manner that pleases me and not some entity watching over me, silently cataloguing and judging everything I do for His Naughty or Nice list.  

I have always said that intelligent people can discuss religion, whereas ignorant people will argue about it.  With that in mind, I must reiterate that I do not expect to see a single e-mail or comment telling me I'm going to Hell.  These are my personal beliefs, and I expect everyone to respect them and leave me to them.  I have chosen to share them purely as a therapeutic release, not to invite your judgment or opinions.  I don't care about your opinions, quite frankly.  If I did, I'd be reading your blog and not the other way around. 

There's a Reason It's Called the S.O.S.

The Secretary of State is a horrifying, wholly awful place.

What is it about the S.O.S. that makes it the hangout for the trashiest members of society?  I can't explain it, but I have never gone in there without immediately breaking into a cold sweat and thinking, I may not make it out of here alive!

There are several things you can always count on at the Secretary of State.  The first is the incredibly long wait.  It doesn't matter what time you go.  Expect to wait.  If you think you're slick and you're going to waltz in there ten minutes before they close, take them by surprise, and walk out, think again.  About 70 other people had the same idea, and they are all sitting in those cheap plastic chairs with exasperated looks on their faces.

In the interest of being fair, I'm going to defend the S.O.S. employees.  Having worked retail for eight long years prior to my current job, I can assure you with a high degree of certainty that 99 times out of 100, the long line is not the fault of an incompetent employee, but the idiot customer at the front of it.  Either they don't speak English, or they're trying to pay with 4,500 rusty pennies, or they are unprepared for whatever it is they're doing there, or they're complaining about the long wait.

I love the people who think they should be exempt from waiting because they were too lazy to renew their licenses until the last day.  That's my favorite.  It's not as if there are any other options available to you, such as online renewal or handy do-it-yourself touchscreen kiosks.  Oh wait, I'm sorry, those are available options.  Shut up and sit down, asshole.  It's not the employee's fault you're a procrastinator.  I think they should institute a policy of telling customers who believe they should be bumped to the front of the line to write a 2,000 word essay on why they should be moved ahead, mostly because I'm curious how many idiots would actually do it.

Also dependable: Foreign Guy.  I suppose it could be Foreign Lady too, but neither of them speak a word of English and they're applying for a driver's license.  And they'll get one, too, because what I learned from tonight's visit is that the questions they ask you at the DMV don't really mean anything.  It doesn't matter how many you get wrong, they'll keep asking until you get enough right to pass.  Failed the eye test?  Eh, no biggie.  You don't really need to see that well while driving.  As long as you can make out the large blurry objects moving around you are cars, you're good to go. 

Perhaps the strangest thing you can count on is sweatpants.  Sweatpants are big at the DMV, in more ways than one.  I guess people figure they're going to be there a while, so they may as well be comfortable, but in the whole of recorded history there has never been a larger collection of dirty, stained, frayed, and tattered sweatpants than at any given time in the Secretary of State.  It's almost like a required uniform.  I feel like I'm being ostracized by the Swamp People that occupy that place for "wearin' them fancy blue jeans and collared shirts."  I'm sorry, but my NASCAR shirt is currently being used to plug an oil leak under my car.

Then there's that person that always wants to talk to you.  Why?  Why must you torment me?  I don't care how long you've been waiting, or about your foot infection, or your views on the current President and how the wait is all his fault.  Please let me wait in relative peace and quiet.  You aren't the only person in the world, or even in the room, being made to wait and you are not that important.  Also, would it kill you to shower once in a while?  Cologne or perfume is not the same as soap, and they do not mask your hideous body odor.  Instead, it mingles with your stank (yes, that's right, "stank") and forms a noxious compound that could be used in chemical warfare.

As I sat there in my own chair, watching the gargantuan woman in front of me impatiently rocking back and forth in hers, wondering just how much longer it could hold out before snapping and sending her spilling backwards on top of me, crushing me to death, I knew the true meaning of fear.  I survived tonight's trip to the S.O.S., but I'm a changed man.  When you look death straight in the eye and only narrowly escape, well... an experience like that changes you forever. 

The Modern Warfare 2 Controversy

Darkness.  You hear the other occupants shuffling around.  Guns cock.  You open your eyes and Makarov turns to his comrades and reminds them, "Remember, no Russian."

The elevator doors open and you step out into the lobby of a picturesque Moscow airport.  Dozens of people patiently wait in line to check their baggage at the security terminal.  In the distance you can see folks perusing gift shops, drinking coffee, and checking their laptops. 

Makarov gives the signal and in an instant gunfire rings out and dozens of bodies fall into a heap, one on top of the other.  Screaming erupts through the concourse as innocent civilians attempt to flee for their safety, but there are five men with automatic weapons and few places to hide.

The men slowly and silently stalk the lobby, gunning down everyone in sight.  Makarov points to the stores, fast food chains, and coffee shops and one of his henchmen does his bidding, opening fire on the hapless people inside.  Courageous people try to pull the wounded to safety and are shot in the act before the injured are executed once and for all.  You stand there, slowly walking behind these men, watching the cold, calculated horror of it all.

Whether you choose to fire is up to you.

This is the scene from Infinity Ward's sequel to the smash hit Call of Duty: Modern Warfare.  In a single day of release it has already become the fastest selling video game in the history of the medium, moving 4.7 million copies in the United States and the U.K. alone.  Released on the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360, many predict Modern Warfare 2 will go on to become the most successful video game of all time, but it's not the sales that have people talking - it's the airport scene.

Taken out of context, the scene sounds like it promotes terrorism - placing you in the shoes of a terrorist as you slaughter innocent, unarmed civilians.  In reality, you play as an undercover CIA operative who has infiltrated the terrorist's ranks and as your commander tells you, "you may lose a piece of yourself." 

The million dollar question is whether this type of scene belongs in a product meant as entertainment.  Opinions are fairly well split, with some - gamer and non-gamer alike - seeing it as a cheap and obvious attempt to generate buzz about the game with a controversial level. 

Others feel that video games are an artform, and this is no different than films such as Die Hard 2 or, on an even smaller scale, Air Force One, that show terrorists brutally murder innocents and the viewers barely blink an eye. 

Whichever side of the argument you fall on, the interactive nature of video games has led the major news organizations to pick up on it and weigh in.  Oh, and the Friendly Friends at Fox & Friends had something to say about it as well.

Newsmedia fearmongering is nothing new, and this controversy is no different.  They'll suggest that a new video game is causing quite a stir and tell you whether your children should be allowed to play it.  A reasonable person knows that the answer is, of course, no.  Your children should not be allowed to play it because the implication is that your children are governed by you, a responsible parent.  If your child is over the age of 17, the appropriate age to purchase a game with a big black M for Mature slapped on its front cover and content descriptors on the back that state "Blood", "Drug References", "Intense Violence", and "Language," then the choice isn't necessarily in your hands - though if they're living under your roof, I would hope you are still the one making the rules. 

Of course, that's not what Fox's Steve Doocy says.  No, Steve believes that sensationalism is the way to go and our nation is doomed to a future of homegrown terrorism, and all on account of this video game.  What follows is a quote from his "fair and balanced" panel discussion with Jim Steyer of Common Sense Media and Jon Christensen of /gamer:
"You bring a game into a house, nothing to stop an eight-year-old kid from becoming a terrorist and shooting people."

Yes.  Nothing.

There is nothing to stop him.  Not the parental controls built into the video game system they use to play the game.  Not the removable power cord or controller.  Not the ability to eject the disc in the tray.  Do you hear that, parents?  That is the sound of your eight-year-old insurgents rising against and overpowering you.  You are powerless to stop them, according to Steve Doocy. 

Assuming for a minute that Steve refers to "becoming a terrorist" in a virtual sense, and not that he is so naive or stupid (or both) to believe that a video game is somehow analogous to firing an actual firearm and capable of instantaneous brainwashing, the fact remains that there is one force on Earth even more powerful than the dreaded eight-year-old with a game console.  That force is called Responsible Parenting.

I know this is a crazy concept.  If only we had the freedom to govern our own households and enforce sometimes unpopular rules within the boundaries of our own house.  If only Activision, the publishers of Modern Warfare 2, and Infinity Ward, the game's developers, would grant us those freedoms over our own children!  Oh, wait... We can do that, and we don't need anyone's permission.

But how can you act when Steve Doocy says there is "nothing to stop them"?  The game must emit some sort of paralyzation ray that only works on parental figures who must stand idly by and watch as their children are trained to become terrorists.  Or maybe you could walk up to the system and shut the Goddamn thing off.  Yeah, you should probably just try that before you throw in the towel.

The sad fact is that Steve Doocy is as clueless as the majority of parents when it comes to video games and technology.  They're still stuck in the days of the original Nintendo when gaming was a hobby dominated by young children and social outcasts.  The notion that modern games are for children is as ridiculous and outdated as the idea that women should stay in the kitchen and not work or segregated bathrooms, drinking fountains, and schools are a good idea.  It has no relevance to our society as it exists today, but there is still a sect of idiots who believe it.  

Eight-year-old children are not lining up for the midnight sale of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2.  Eight-year-old children aren't sitting outside in the freezing cold of winter with $600, ready to purchase a PlayStation 3 on launch day.  Games, by and large, are purchased 20 and 30-sometihng-year-olds with jobs that give them disposable income - like myself.  If you're a parent who willingly buys a game titled "Modern Warfare" for your eight-year-old, then what the hell kind of parent are you in the first place and why has someone not reported you to Social Services?  What about that title would make you think it's age-appropriate for your young one?

It's true that older siblings may have access to the game, and this is precisely where responsible parenting comes into play.  Any parent knows that young children require constant supervision just so they don't hurt themselves or get into something they shouldn't have.  Why does this rule not extend to video game consoles?  Why is it the responsibility of the publishers and the developers to babysit your children?  When did mass censorship become such a widely accepted practice, and who decided that we should all be subject to it so as not to poison the minds of the children?  I'm 30 years old; are you telling me Infinity Ward shouldn't make mature games for adults because there's a chance a child could see or play it?  Isn't that your duty as a parent to monitor what your children are doing?  Would you let them stick a fork in an electrical socket and then blame the silverware manufacturer for making conductive utensils?  

Contrary to Steve Doocy's belief, you are not unable to prevent your children from becoming terrorists.  The problem is that everyone wants someone else to do their job for them.  On that note I'd like to introduce you to your new best friend: Parental Controls!  Every major video game console has them nowadays.  Take time to familiarize yourself with them, parents.  It's OK, they don't bite.  Parental controls are easy as pie to work.  You set a password and tell the system to block any games over a certain age rating, which is handily displayed on the game's packaging.  If that password is not entered, it does your job for you and tells your child that he or she will not be playing that game.  Crisis averted!  Another mind saved!

I'm not going to touch on whether I feel the airport sequence should be playable or non-playable, or whether it belongs in the game in the first place.  That's a whole 'nother can of worms.  However, the argument that video games are somehow warping our children into becoming terrorists and there's nothing you can do about it is so flat out ridiculous - even for Fox News - it's practically science fiction.

I realize that trying to find sensible reporting and reason in a Fox News report is about as fruitful as searching for a Pepsi machine in the middle of the desert, but there is a reason there are age ratings on the box.  There's a reason parental controls are built into consoles.  Now if only someone could give me a reason to watch Fox News, since we're talking about warping minds and indoctrinating impressionable youth...

Beware the Swine Flu!

Have you heard about this swine flu epidemic - no, PANDEMIC - that is going to wipe out the entire population?  We're all going to die.  We might as well all just give up right now and dive right into a pile of pig feces, because it's inevitable.  It's all just a matter of time.  At least, that's what I hear on the news anyhow.

Yes, despite the fact that there were just over 50 confirmed cases of swine flu in the United States as of this morning, resulting in precisely zero deaths, the wonderful news media have latched onto the story to try and scare the gullible American public into sealing their windows with duct tape and building swine flu shelters in our basements.

ABC News opened their Sunday night broadcast with at least 40 minutes of coverage dedicated to the swine flu "epidemic".  First off, isn't it a little much to call barely more than 50 cases an "epidemic"?  That's sort of like saying you're "starving" when it's only been two hours since your last meal.  Secondly, you'll notice I said "at least 40 minutes" - it probably went on longer, but we got sick of listening to it so we shut it off.

In the 40 minutes we watched, their compared it to a pandemic that occurred in 1918 that killed millions.  Do you know why that many people died in 1918?  Because it was 1918!  This may be hard to believe, but we have made some pretty amazing medical advances in the 91 years since then.  We no longer just saw off your limbs and pour alcohol on the stump. 

They also talked about the handful of deaths in Mexico as a result of swine flu.  Do you know why people have died in Mexico and not in the United States?  Because it's MEXICO and they aren't exactly known for their world class healthcare!

There's nothing wrong with being prepared and being informed, but the stuff I see on the news is just ridiculous.  They are all trying to out-scare each other.  It's the sort of senseless fear-mongering that makes the news wholly unwatchable.  It will either scare you shitless if you're dumb enough to believe everything the anchor says, or make you incredibly angry if you realize they're just trying to frighten you.  The news has pretty much been boiled down to 1% actual information, 99% scare tactics because - let's face it - stories that say "no need to panic" aren't going to keep you watching. 

Does anyone remember bird flu?  Remember when that was the next big pandemic that was going to wipe out America?  How about mad cow - remember that one?  Or remember when west nile was going to kill us all?  Ahh, good old west nile, which apparently began in the standing water of our pool cover if my cranky old neighbors are to be believed.  That's right, everybody, you can blame me. 

Did people die from these diseases?  Unfortunately.  Were they the global, ruinous diseases the media hyped them up to be?  Abso-fucking-lutely not.  We were told they could potentially kill MILLIONS of people, and they ended up being no more deadly than any other strain of influenza that has plagued humanity in modern times.  Oh yeah, folks.  In case you haven't heard, the regular old flu can be potentially fatal.  So can stepping off the curb to cross the street, even if you have the right of way, swimming, or choking while eating chicken soup.  QUICK, BAN CHICKEN SOUP BEFORE IT BECOMES AN EPIDEMIC!

Will people die from swine flu?  Probably.  I hate to say it, but there have already been a few deaths and there will probably be more.  Will it be the second coming of the black plague?  Probably not.  It will be just another strain of influenza that certain peoples' immune systems can handle, and certain peoples' can't - plain and simple.  I'm no medical expert or anything, but this is the exact same situation we saw with the outbreaks I mentioned earlier. 

Of course scientists and medical experts are worried - that's called being proactive.  You aren't supposed to wait until it gets out of control and then try to fix it, which is what this country has grown so adept at over the last few years.  You want to put a stop to it before the problem spreads, and with any mutagenic virus there is always a chance that it could be difficult to contain, but should we all start walking around wearing masks and getting chemical showers when we enter public buildings?

Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my shelter...

Hey, Fatty

If you need any more proof that America is the fattest, most over-indulgent country in the world, simply visit any fast food restaurant.

Do you see that cup? That's a MEDIUM. When I was a kid, that same cup was a large and my mom used to tell me "You don't need that much pop" when I'd ask for one.

In case you can't read it, the text on the side says "This cup makes a statement about you.". Yeah, it says that the old large simply wasn't enough for our nation of behemoths. The text continues: "It says 'Hey, look at me, I'm an ambitious yet responsible person." In truth, it says just the opposite. It says I'm a lazy, most likely overweight person with a dependency on copious amounts of caffeine. It says I am too lazy to prepare a healthier lunch or dinner, so I'm relying on processed foods that will destroy my insides and clog my arteries.

I'm including myself in this statement. Obviously, the cup is mine, although I will admit to being shocked by the size when the employee handed it to me. At first I thought he'd made a mistake and given me a large. "Hey, free upgrade," I thought. Then I read the side and thought "You've got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell is the large?". Do they just give you a bucket filled with soda and a straw?

If this exerience has taught me anything, it's that I need to stop eating fast food. I don't want to end up like those people who are so fat that it hurts to walk and even the simplest tasks cause them to start breathing as though they'd just climbed the stairs to the top of the Empire State Building.

This is not the number you're looking for

Why do people insist on arguing with you when they discover they have dialed the wrong number?  It's as if, through the power of debate, the expect the incorrect number to suddenly transform into the right one.

I received a call this afternoon from a woman from some stupid company I've never heard of.  She asked for Michael, and this being my brother's name I was momentarily curious if they were trying to reach him.  I informed her that there was no Michael at this number, and she asked me if there was someone named Samir, then proceeded to murder poor Samir's last name.  I explained again that there was no such person at this number, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Somebody called and left a message from this number for me to call them back," she insisted.

No.  No, they didn't.  Or, if you prefer to go all Kevin Spacey in Superman Returns - "WRONG!"

If someone left my number, they left the wrong number because I sure as hell did not call you, ma'am.

I've had the same cell phone number for six years now.  I'm pretty sure I have a good grasp on who I call and who I don't, and I don't recall contacting your company.  I explained this to her and was met with an exasperated "Alright," followed by a violent disconnect.

Look, it's not my fault you dialed the wrong number, so don't take you incompetence out on me.  Maybe you pressed 4 when you should have pressed 5 - I don't know - but it's your mistake.  Just own up to it.  I'm sorry that the concept of operating a telephone eludes you, but if anyone should be angry about this call it's me.  I'm the one whose workday was interrupted by your insistence that somehow my number is the one you meant to call and I just don't know it.

We all misdial every now and then, but we don't all get attitudes about it when we realize our error or start arguing with the person on the other end of the phone as if it will suddenly jog some distant memory.  "Oh wait, now I remember!  There IS a Samir at this number!  I totally forgot about the other personality that inhabits my body.  Hang on just a sec, let me see if I can get him for you."

Perhaps someone slyly stole me phone from my front pocket and used it to make a call, then slid it back in when I wasn't paying attention in an attempt to trick me into doing business with this company.  "Hmmm, if you say so, then perhaps I did call you about some industrial lighting for my new manufacturing plant."

Where's My Change?

C'mon, Barack.  You've been in office for all of what, six days, and the country is still in shambles.  What is the problem?  After all, millions of Americans expected the economy would suddenly surge upwards, poverty would be eliminated, crime would drop dramatically (if not disappear entirely), the national debt would be erased, rainbows would fill the sky, it would be sunny and 80 degrees for 1,460 days (2,920 if you get re-elected), racism, persecution, homophobia, stereotypes, sexism, and all other evils would cease to exist, and terrorists would suddenly love America - all the instant you were sworn in!  Magical fairies would fly around, birds would sing, Jesus Christ Himself would attend your inauguration and tell you "Hey man, what do these people need me for, they've got you now," and we were all supposed to live happily ever after!

Of course, this is the real world - where none of those things will happen except the slow deterioration of approval by the impatient citizens of this country who expect Obama to clean up the mess left behind by the *ahem* previous administration with a snap of his fingers.  Forget Superbowl Squares; I'm taking money for how long before the country starts to turn on Obama.  Who's in?  My money's on about eight months.

What people need to realize is that this is not an overnight process.  It's not a problem that can be solved in a week, a month, or even a year.  It may not even be solved in a single term, but you have to take a first step sometime.  Hopefully, Obama will put enough things in place that he, or whoever succeeds him as President, will be able to continually improve the quality of life for all American citizens - not just Democrats or Republicans, liberals or conservatives, but EVERYONE.  And I'm not talking about outlawing gay marriage or making sure the greeters at Wal-Mart say non-denominational phrases like "Happy Holidays."  I'm talking about creating jobs, putting the splintered, jagged pieces of the economy back together, and improving the country's standing with the rest of the world.

Of course, there are still those four idiots who still think that everything was hunky dory with the ultra-conservative regime who ran the country into the ground in the first place.  There are still those who seem to think that Bill Clinton's extra-marital affair is somehow more responsible for all the country's problems than the war that has siphoned money from tax payers for upwards of six years, or the inevitable housing decline (which was bound to happen, regardless of who was in office), or the disastrous mismanagement of major financial institutions.  Not everything can be put on Bush's shoulders, terrible though he was, but if you can explain to me how we went from having a surplus of $559 billion at the end of Clinton's two terms to a $4 trillion deficit, I'd love to hear it. 

By "four idiots," I am referring to Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity (you see, Limbaugh is fat enough to account for three on his own).  It's no secret that Hannity, pictured here, has been George W. Bush's lapdog for the past eight years and he's already begun his campaign against Obama.  It's a product of the "Republican" label - and self-proclaimed Democrats like Keith Olbermann are just as guilty of this too - that they will immediately hate a member of the opposing political party for no reason other than their affiliation.  It's a shining example of why I have never, nor will I ever, label myself.  Though I lean towards the liberal side, I have seen the danger of aligning oneself with any organization - political, religious, what-have-you - and the almost inherent brainwashing that seems to stem from it.  By labelling yourself as this or that, you are effectively inhibiting your own ability to think as an individual.  You become part of a hive-mind mentality, where your parties beliefs automatically supplant yours and any argument, however rational it may be, that disagrees with that viewpoint is a threat to be met with the utmost intolerance. 

I hesitate to even call persons like Hannity and Limbaugh human beings, as they function more like programmed robots.  True, Olbermann isn't much better, what with his harsh accusations and frequent calls for resignations of just about every member of the Republican party that were so perfectly parodied on a recent Saturday Night Live sketch, but as much as he openly railed against Bush, never did I hear him say he hoped he would fail as Limbaugh said of Barack Obama.

Yes, despite the champion of America he claims to be, Rush Limbaugh would rather see the country go down in flames and be obliterated than watch it succeed under a member of the opposing politcal party.  Why is that, Rush?  Are you afraid Obama's health plan would make it harder for you to obtain those prescription drugs you love so much? 

It seems as much a waste of good blog space to even write his name as Limbaugh's continued existance is a waste of oxygen, prescription medication, and enough food to feed a third world country, but when something so utterly unintelligent, so utterly unpatriotic, so grossly indecent is spewed forth from the maw of the world's largest garbage disposal, does it not demand a response?  Limbaugh's quote has made news all over the country, and there are those who think that it should just be ignored; don't dignify it with a response.

I say to those people: if you ignore evil, you allow it to thrive.  Allowing people like Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, and the ever-egomaniacal Bill O'Reilly to go unchecked, unchallenged and to continue to spew their irrational hatred will only make the situation worse.  After all, look what happened when there was no one to oppose President Bush...

To hope for the failure of Obama, and by extension the country, is as disgusting as the band of so-called "religious" lunatics who protest at the funerals of fallen soldiers.  You may not agree with his politics.  You may cling to your old ways and dislike him simply because he's a Democrat.  But to hope he fails, a failure that would weigh heavily on already struggling families and leave our country more succeptible to further harm, is simply un-American.