Entry 04/06/2013 07:21:28 AM – Mentat 684
“In a democracy dissent is an act of faith. Like medicine, the test of its value is not in its taste, but in its effects.” – J. William Fulbright
While yesterday was one of those sort of days where I was up and about more than sitting down and calm, I had an incident that gave me a bit of humor and a lot of pause. During one of those interludes while C was off with friends, I decided to play a bit of Star Trek Online because I needed to grind a bit of Dilithium and it’s a fairly good way of adding a bit of routine (and order) to an otherwise jittery day. Here is a bit of the back story to this to understand where I’m coming from in this.
I had left the Fleet that I had been part of because of a difference of opinion on what can and cannot be talked about and me having a problem with anyone censoring individuals or a group, took exception when one particularly conversation (that wasn’t in the least bit offensive) was being censored by some rather loud detractors. So, I went on the market to find another Fleet that I could dump my excess materials, equipment, monies and what have you… and went in search of other gaymers. The largest of the LGBT fleets that I had come across was Stonewall Fleet, so much so that they had their own chat channel within the game that I could configure and join. I remember doing so (configuring and joining the chat channel and perhaps later on, the fleet) with the intent of getting a feel of the people before. Sort of a try before you buy, as the saying goes.
About a week or two into watching and then later interacting with the chat, I got into my first scuffle with a bunch of the more uptight folk in the group. I made a comment about leaving for Star Wars: The Old Republic to troll the kids there, and they got offensive about it. Sure, I know I worded it wrong and made the mistake of assuming that people would understand my nature given I often snarked folk in the week I had been actively chatting, but they went on the attack saying it’s wrong. After 30 minutes of my explaining why I do what I do (I only troll kids that are being tits. After all, I work on the belief, if you’re going to be a tit, you’re going to be treated as such). Only one of the more aggressive understood why I was the way I was (even if he didn’t condone it), while the rest were remaining on the offensive. Basically doing precisely what I do for the reasons why I do it, and denying their nature in the process.
At that point, I decided I was going to remain a free agent and not join their fleet and waited out for better offers.
I did get that better offer from a good acquaintance in Ireland (no, not you Glenn) who had also left the fleet we had been part of because of differences in play styles with the management there and ended up joining a rather nice bunch of folk from the fleet of LaFamilia (otherwise known as “The Family”). I tagged along because I have a good rapport with the smarmy git and the fact that he generally knows how to pick them even if things fall through at a later time. Though I kept Stonewall Fleet Chat active because I wasn’t sure what the mix was with the Fleet, and admittedly it’s nice to be able to chat, be camp, and generally light with folk that can understand some of the humor I’ve come to appreciate (and am familiar with).
Then comes last night. I was in a fairly good mood, I wanted to grind a bit. The queerfolk where in their usual sort of high spirits mood. There was a bit of camp, and a bit of heckling going on. I sort of made a couple of comments, but paid more attention to the grinding for Dilithium that I was doing. And then it hit me while I was heading towards the Asteroid Mine that there was something happening on Bajor. Some sort of gathering. Several of the folk were making cutesy comments that the “speechifier” was going to be speechifying.
I was mining on the Asteroid, and there it was in it’s full and vomitus glory… The leader of the Stonewall Fleet was prattling on like a politician running for a term in office.
I said something about being a politician’s son and that the last thing that should be going on is any sort of aggrandizing grandstanding in a public chat. That it’s better to get to the point.
The leader of the fleet send a scathing whisper to me accusing me of being disrespectful and that he would mute me if I continued.
For one brief moment, I thought about copying & pasting that comment to the Public chat calling out that I must’ve hit a nerve if this “speechifier” is making threats in private. But then I thought twice about it, knowing full well of doing such a thing would cause instantaneous flaming both from the leader as well as whatever quiet spectators were sitting there watching.
In the meantime, several of the fleet called me a “d-bag” for being so “disrespectful”.
I shot back quickly that I’m not a douchebag, and clarified that I generally am good to get along with except when someone is being a grandstanding blow-hard. I went on further to say that he should get to the point as this is a game, not a platform for a political campaign.
The leader went on to say something about “welcoming diversity to the fleet.”
To which I countered, “except when that opinion is dissenting” and got myself banned from their happy little chat.
Admittedly I didn’t realize that I was banned. It had simply gone quiet and I had assumed that the lot of them had moved whatever long-winded speech that was going on to Ventrilo. But after a brief respite from the game, going to chat with C for a bit before he headed to bed and coming back to finish off the grinding and the Duty Officer Missions that I wanted to queue up, realized that it had been too quiet for that Stonewall Fleet’s chat channel. So when I went to look for the channel information, my access to it had been removed. When I tried to re-join I had been denied.
I laughed in LaFamilia’s fleet chat and told them the story, including the banning. There was a bit of chat, and a bit of explaining, but overall at the time before I headed to bed I found it sardonically funny. So did the members of my fleet (though they were a bit confused about how I pulled of being part of 2 different fleet chats).
This morning though? I’m finding it sad. I mean here we are in the 21st century, and what I saw of the leader of this group and the repercussions of my actions to be antiquated. This is something I would’ve expect in the 80s and not now. After all, diversity as it has been taught to me is to accept the good and the bad of the community. It means that sometimes, we’re going to encounter people of an opinion that is completely counter to our own.
I had learned through my years of wandering the planet that a good leader (not to mention a strong one), will be able to roll not only with those of like mind, but also those of an opinion completely counter to their own. To be able to address the group as well as the hecklers, in a way that can bring them all together. Well, sometimes anyway. There are just some that are impossible to please.
This leader of this group however, isn’t one of those that could be qualified as a good leader. If anything, he’s one of the most common of the “leaders” I’ve seen since my days on IRC.
So as I continue to write this entry, I recalled a lot of the familiar patterns of seeing this in the 23 years of being online. The cliquishness of gay men’s (and sometimes even lesbian) groups. The hair-trigger attitude of dissenting voices to whatever the head of the group encounters them. The banning/removing/ostracizing of whatever dissenting voice that comes up — automatically assuming that dissention is equivalent to “the enemy”. That this was typical of someone that has been bullied and picked on that created a power base of being their own Queen of Hearts in their own little kingdom.
Sitting here now, it raises the question: Have we as the abused (from years of being put down for being gay) become the very thing we hated? The abuser? That in our striving for equality, have we lost our ability to understand the very tolerances we’re demanding from others?
I hope not. Because if we have, this is going to be a very dark day in the future when (and if) we get those equalities we’ve been fighting for, all these years.
Anyway, I’m off for the time being. Time to watch a bit of television, make lunch and have a moment or two of peace. Until the next time.
Entry 10/31/2012 10:23:38 AM – Mentat 669
I find my looking back over the last week, with a sort of combination of smugness and disgust. Smugness in the fact that while Hurricane Sandy did it’s damage 300 miles (483 km) south and west of here, I could tell that by the pattern the storm was traveling it wasn’t going to do much of anything other than in the usual southern areas of the state (which is typical when you look back at the history of hurricanes that struck the area). Disgust in the fact that the meteorologists and news reporters for the big three stations (WPRI-12, WJAR-10 and WLNE-6) had sensationalized the news so much that it had caused too many of the locals to panic needlessly. I mean, sure it’s one thing to report the probability and the potentiality of problems that both Tropical Storms and Hurricanes can bring to both the coast as well as the low-lying areas of the state(s). But the way that they were making it, combined with the word Nor’easter (proper as it was) — using it locally did in fact cause an even bigger panic than usual. Hell, it was almost amusing listening to my aunt that had called a couple of days later (and three days before the storm was going to hit land) when she said to me that we’d be getting a blizzard in the process. While that might have been true of the Virginia and DC area, as all hurricanes turn counterclockwise (as it does in the northern hemisphere), this meant that we here in the northern states would be getting the warmer (and even tropical air) of the mid-Atlantic states, and simultaneously the mid-Atlantic would be getting the colder/arctic winds that we’d be getting for this time of year.
Instead, I simply told here that the temperatures were too warm for snow, and the path of the Hurricane (at the time) was continuing its way toward New Jersey as expected and reported by the NOAA.
By about the weekend, I simply gave up listening to the news. Local news continued to make such a big stink of the looming disaster in the making, and simply paid attention to what the NOAA was reporting without the local commentary. My landlord (and manager) made routine calls from around Friday through Sunday asking for status updates and checking to see if the checklist of things that he wanted me to do for the three properties here in my neck of the neighborhood had been taken care of.
Each time he called, I continued to stress to him to stop listening to both the local news (that he had watched from his iPhone) along with the news that he had been watching in the area (he’s currently on vacation in the New York area). I advised him that the news is no longer doing its job of reporting responsibly and is whipping the sheep in the area into a right, frightful panic. If he wanted to know what was going on with the storm, to tune into sights like the NOAA that are simply reporting the storm and trajectory allowing him to interpret what he saw in his own way (from the years of experience of living through such weather). I also told him that each of the projects that he had requested were done, and all that we could do here in the Tundras of New England was to take a typical “wait and see” approach to where the storm’s heading and what’s to be expected if the worst does in fact happen.
The thing is though, by Monday — the weather that I could see for my area (Providence) was nowhere where it should have been for a life and property threatening storm. With the exclusion of the occasional to routine gusts of wind, that this was going to be a simple rainstorm. While the local weather stations and the National Weather Service were reporting continued gusts of wind and rain through to Midnight, I didn’t see much rain and even less wind by 8 PM that evening. And even more amazing was the fact that the power — which is well known for going out in my area during a stiff breeze — didn’t once falter. Not a blink.
Tuesday morning there was still rain and reports showed that we’d continue to see rain (but little wind) over the next two days.
My mother and I headed out to do the bi-weekly laundry, and for a moment when we got to the local laundromat at the butt-crack of dawn thought that the owner wasn’t going to make it in. Turned out we showed up the same time he did, and he let us in turning on the televisions to the local news and weather channel, which was reporting non-stop on the aftermath.
While having morning coffee and between loads heading from the washer and dryer, the caffeine kicked in and I started catching some of the things being said on the television. The first that I caught was listening to some Connecticut Official (not sure if it were a mayor of the governor of the state… I’m guessing it was a Mayor), talking about how if there’s flood waters to “go to the highest portion of the house.”
After I picked up my jaw from the floor where it hit, I thought, “Umm, no. If you see flooding in your area, you get the hell out. If it looks too dangerous, only then do you look for the highest part of your house to escape it.” I couldn’t be sure whether or not the news had edited it for content, or whether the elected official was that stupid to say it…
The second, which got me thinking, was listening to a reporter in New York City talking about the flooding and how the cars had been “strewn” about the road because of the flood waters. For the next three sentences it became apparent that strewn was his word of the day as he used it several more times. He then wrapped it up talking about how the subway system was 180 years old and that they got flooded and how this was the worst storm ever because of that. He went on further to say, ‘this was the worst storm ever.’
Something told me he wasn’t quite right about that and so when I got home I did a little bit of research. First off, the subway system in New York City wasn’t 180 years old, but in fact only a small portion of it is 143 years old. The other is that friends reminded me when I talked with them about it later on that there was worse flooding that occurred with Doria in 1971, Beryl in 1994, and Bertha in 1996 were in fact worse. And let’s face it compared to Hurricane Sandy; Hurricanes Edna, Carol and the Great Hurricane were infinitely worse in the 20th century.
It makes me wonder as I sit here working on this journal entry; has news reporting truly sunk to even lower lows on fact checking and being responsible when reporting the news? I can’t but think that ‘yeah, it has.’ It’s one thing to report the news — particularly when it comes to the dangers that happen with Mother Nature in all her fury. But when the news seems to be a cascade between warning locals of the potentials of reporting the impending problems with a Hurricane, Tropical Storm, Blizzard, and so on… to double barreling it with news stories showing people panicking by making runs to the local hardware chains (like Lowe’s, Home Depot, Ace, etc.) and selling out Portable Generators and about the usual milk and bread runs (sell-outs) at the local supermarkets, isn’t that the line where responsible news reporting stops, and creating a panic begins?
I seem to remember some time after the Arizona Representative’s (Gabrielle Gifford‘s) shooting something about the how rhetoric was (partly or wholly) responsible for this shooting occurring and how journalists were going to be more responsible about such things in the future to prevent such calamity occurring. While this seems to be true as the only political rhetoric that seemed to be generated at the moment isn’t from the news sources at the moment, but in fact the politicians trying to get into office, I wonder… Is it going to take a death (or serious harm) due to stampede or panic to get News Sources and Reporters to stop with whipping people into a froth because of FUD and/or exaggerated (and often egregious) facts?
I could impart tons of Common Sense to this, but the thing that I’m learning more and more as I get older is that “Common Sense is neither common, nor sensical.” The only thing that I can impart though is, “stay to good judgment and knowing one’s limits”. Well that and keeping a level head the entire time.
Anyway, I’m off for a bit. I have some work that needs to be done. I’ll be back later on to talk about the rest of what’s going on.
[Last Edited: 10/31/2012 02:58:24 PM]
Well that particular project took less time than I thought it would… Two hours less time than I thought. But then again there’s only just so much you can do about painting wires and pipes on a wall without pouring paint onto them to make them a uniform white. Only problem with that approach is that you’ll get paint stalactites off of them (and that’s not what one wants to have happen with a wall that’s going to be used to display artwork). But I digress…
So in the last week while surviving the non-drama of Hurricane Sandy, I made the decision to join NaNoWriMo in the hopes of getting over the long-standing malaise of writer’s block. In the last three days, while I’ve had plenty of time to think of a story that I could possibly write, I haven’t had any bloody idea what I should give a go with. I thought about doing the sequel to Companion but it seems to be a cheat; not because I have parts of it written already, but because it’s something that I really need to do. Not to mention that it seems almost wrong given if I were to do the sequel there’s no point to the original on the site.
I thought about doing Symbiosis. It’s an original. It’s a draft I could re-write the story from scratch without any problem. After all the draft is taken from the perspective of the alien that ends up off-course from Earth, with a sub-set of the story ending up with the human. I could always turn the story around and do the opposite for the site. Still though, I did struggle at the point of getting to the under-ice base and couldn’t for the life of me choose a direction, in spite of the fact that I knew the end result from beginning to end. Yeah, that was definitely part of the writer’s block — at least for that story.
Hell, I could always choose something completely different out of my head. The only thing is… What?
In any case, it starts officially in about 8 hours, and given the choices, I might go with Romance or Science Fiction — my two modus operandi. Hell, I could always do a combination of the two, which I’ve done a couple of times. Better to sleep on it tonight and see what comes to light in the morning.
That’s about it for the time being. I think I’ll watch a couple of shows that I’ve become terribly behind with and then off to take over the universe in the only way I know how. On the bridge of the USS Huntress, as she patrols the various sectors of the United Federation of Planets. Yes, I’m off to play Star Trek Online for a bit before calling it night.
Until the next time.
Ho boy, the fun that I’ve had going here at the homestead the last couple of days have been just too much…
Yes, we received more snow. And while news like CNN and Reuters report record snowfall for the Midwest and Northeast, I have to say that it really wasn’t too bad here at the homestead; at least when it was snow. Seems we received about 4″ (10.1 cm) at the beginning of the week, it wasn’t until the next day that things took a turn to the annoying. Sure, we received about 1″ (2.5 cm) more; it wasn’t until mid/late morning that it had turned to rain taking what we had shoveled off the top of the ice and turned it to slush making for a deadly mix of snow and ice on top of ice.
To add insult to injury, sometime by mid-afternoon when the rain stopped and what melt had gone on both because of the rain, as well as my uncle leaving the gutter heaters on for far longer than he should have, an icicle formed both on the electrical wire and above it; that when the ice snapped off and came crashing down disconnected the power wire from the side of the house to the pole. Calling over to the emergency line of National Grid we were promised a bucket truck in about 4 hours (which turned into another day given that we weren’t the only ones without power in the area), leaving the house to rely on kerosene space heaters for heat and candles for lighting until they were able to successfully reattach the wire from the pole to the house (and ensuring that it wouldn’t snap off like it did if we got more ice).
Heh, not that my cat minded all that much. She had plenty of lap time, while I sat on the couch in the front room reading The Complete Plato and completely blissful about it. If anything she’s been more than content spending time with me, in her bed, or looking out the windows a bit while the snow and rain fell; even if a majority of her time was spent sleeping.
So with the house back to normal, properly heated and the faint smell of kerosene gone from the house, I spent a majority of my morning trying to chop the blocks of ice off the side stairs, side walkway, as well as the front stairs and back door in order to get out of the house without any of us slipping and cracking our heads on the pavement and ice. Sore? You betcha I’m sore. Though not quite as sore as I was at the end of last week when I started the effort to get the glacier that’s the side stairs chopped down and chopped out to the pavement. Still though, I’m rather crestfallen about this rather intimidating block of ice where the run off from the gutters routinely ends up forming on the walkway and driveway. Seems that the melt and freeze going on there is so settled in, it’s near impossible to get off the pavement short of using boiling water/oil and possible a blowtorch (although in my self-amused mind, I was standing there hacking at the ice and imagining the use of a flamer or heavy incinerator to get down to the pavement). Pity we don’t have a blowtorch here to try with. My uncle’s a hobbyist carpenter/wood-worker and not a metal worker; so that’s one tool we don’t have around the house.
Anyway, this is going to be a short journal entry.
It’s February and with it being a short month, I’ve decided like I did last year to go off adventuring for the remainder of the month. Be it in game (Modern Warfare 2 has been hooked in my craw for some months since I’ve bought it, and it’s time I give it my 100% attention instead of dickering around like I have), or book (Plato is about 1,300+ pages, and I have the 2,100+ pages of Aristotle‘s works in the queue as well), or even wandering about the white, wintry and icy world here in the tundras of New England. Taxes are filed, returns have been received and I can take the opportunity to travel. Where I haven’t a clue, not that I care really… Anywhere but here would be grand.
That and it’s the month of Valentine’s Day. A time of year I still loathe.
Until the next time — which should be next month.
So it took me about a week, but I was
finally able to get the desktop back up to running. Frankly I have no idea what the hell
happened; came home from work one day last week (Friday morning I think was the
date), and when I logged into the desktop to check to see how
SETI/Einstein@Home was running I noticed that it had taken a longer than usual
time to complete the login process. Shrugged
it off and saw that the thing was chugging along nicely, decided on rebooting
the desktop before uploading a couple of the Apophysis works that I had
produced the night before. And that’s
when everything went wrong.
The reboot would get through the BIOS
screen without a problem, and then when it got the F8 option between booting
into Windows normally or allowing me to boot into safe mode, it would just hang
there at the blinking cursor. Wouldn’t
allow me to hit F8 to choose the Windows mode and wouldn’t continue into
Windows like it’s supposed to. It just hung there not doing a bloody
thing. Loaded up the Windows CD and went
into the recovery console checking a couple of the settings there; BootCFG was
fine. Didn’t change any of the setting
there. Rebuilding the Master Boot Record
was all right as well. Even checked to
see if I could create a boot option so that it would go to menu between Windows
Normal and Windows Safe, but all that ended up doing was returning to the
dreaded blinking cursor.
Thought that perhaps Windows had become
corrupted, so I booted up the Ubuntu Live CD to see if there was anything wrong
with the information on the hard drive.
Turned out that I could read all the partitions and drives without so
much as an issue. This left me wondering
if it was just something with the partition itself, so I tried to run the
partition check within Ubuntu, which it kicked back with flying colors.
So back to the BIOS menu, I dropped down
to check the drives to see if there was a hard disc problem with the read
heads. Both drives kicked back with no
problems and were running the way that they were supposed to. Then I tried to rebuild Windows from scratch,
which went well, but ended up giving me the same blinking cursor when I was
through with it. Tried to swap out to
Windows 7 RC 1 to see if that would fix the problem. It didn’t, and in fact what I saw the thing
do was try to load up a different version onto the drive and in spite of the
fact that it was going to take over the system, left the prior system in place
"just in case".
Just in case is the act and actions I remember all too well when one
used the "upgrade" CD from Windows 3.11 to 95 way back when in the
days. I didn’t want any of that
And so in a fit of annoyance, I decided to
blow away the partition and load it up from scratch. Which seems to be working now without so much
of a problem. Took me 3 partial and 2
full days to get everything back up to running the way that I want of which I’m
happy with the way things are back to normal again. Of course, the fun that I had during this was
trying to determine the order I needed to load things in, given that some of
the programs that I have don’t tend to play nicely if loaded up out of order —
but this time though — I didn’t run into too many of the problems that I did
the last load up (particularly with Creative & Logitech’s drivers which
were a complete stubborn bitch because I loaded one set prior to the
I decided on staying with Windows XP Pro
still as I was tempted to go with 7 RC1 with Ubuntu as a dual boot system, but
then realized that I was in no mood to go through all the break-fix that I had
to go through with Canonical’s product through the last two versions. (Well that and I hate to say it, but I really
do like my Dolby Surround when listening to music, and I’ll be go to hell if I
was going to go through having to play with those controls all over again if
only to find out that parts of PulseAudio simply weren’t going to behave with
Rhythmbox and Anorak and cause me grief and a half trying to bypass Pulse to
ALSA or OSS. Further, while I’m tempted
to take a go with 7 RC1, my issues with that is that there might be
possibilities of program incompatibilities cropping up with some of the older
games that I sometimes like playing when I’m completely frustrated and want a
break from the current games that I play.
Heh, yes, I still play Dark Forces II:
Jedi Knight and X-Wing vs. TIE Fighter
if only because I don’t like the lot of simulators and first-person shooters
there are out there. And then there’s my
truly favorite diversion — Final Fantasy VII
which with the patch that I found a couple of years back can play on Windows
XP. Sure, it’s huge on the desktop, but
given that I like the fight system that it uses, it’s a great diversion from
the nonsense that I routinely put up with.
Ultimately this means that 7 RC 1 and
Ubuntu are going to be held off for a while longer still. But not for long if this system decides to go
south again. *crosses fingers*
With the system back up and running, and I
have various backups and contingencies in place, the next thing on my agenda is
to work on the mini-inspiration that I received thanks to the happy little
"cult" of fun-loving folk who apparently have quite a sense of humor
about the polls that I put up there.
Doing a sort of Interview with the Voices in my Head. I’m not entirely sure how I want to do that
— but I’m sure I’m going to try my hand out at Camp and Comedy in writing that
tidbit of work. What I am sure is that
it might be somewhat entertaining.
Not surprisingly I also need to work on
the next poll… Just not sure what I want
to do with that one. *shrugging* I’m sure I’ll come up with something. Although given my rather negative attitude
toward recent news and events, there’s a good chance that it’ll have nothing to
do with Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahan or Billy Mays. *eye roll*
And yes, this is as close to them being mentioned in my entry given the
amount of media attention it’s been getting…
You know what, I changed my mind on not
making mention on at least one of them.
Michael Jackson… Everyone has
been making quite the fuss about him since his death last week and frankly, I
find myself at odds with this. The media
seems to be going overboard about the "King of Pop" dying a tragic
death and everyone from here to Guam has been making all sorts of odes and
dedications to him. But where was the
media the last decade with him looking like the complete freak of nature
through his obsession with surgical alterations? Where were they when they were trying to get
him crucified for being an implied pedophile?
Where was the media when he practically turned into a Howard Hughes
reclusive hiding out in his Neverland Mansion and coming out looking like —
yep, a complete freak with surgical gloves on his hands, a surgical mask on his
face, and being wheeled around as though he were an invalid in a wheelchair
with umbrella to protect him from the rays of the sun?
The media was pointing at him and mocking
him, and displaying him like he was Top Billing at the Circus Freak Show;
that’s where. They were either making
him out to being a complete spectacle to be ridiculed at best and pitied at
worst and when there was no more news to be had from it, they ignored his
eccentricities and his bizarre habits, moving onto the next best piece of dirty
laundry. Now that he’s dead, they’re
back to making it quite the spectacle.
Cooing and Boo-hoo’ing that the "King of Pop" is dead and
mourning the loss with such a sense of shallow sincerity that a simple fingernail
scratch against it will prove it to being nothing more than the veneer.
Believe me when I say my vitriol is quite
high for this veneer of pomp and circumstance from the "fans". Out of the woodwork they come, because the
media is being falsely sincere, boo-hoo’ing the loss because it seems to be the
proper thing to do. Where were these
fans through the years of his regurgitation of albums and work? Where were these fans when Jackson was being
made a spectacle by the news and media?
I didn’t see quite the uproar of fans when the media was crucifying
Jackson for the allegations of being a pedophile. In fact, I seem to recall quite the outbreak
of most fans turned ex-fans wanting him to spend his time in jail when he had
settled out of court some years back.
Those that didn’t want him to burn for being the pedophile they thought
he had been, quite suddenly went quiet, remained quiet and moved on to new pop
stars and idols as the years passed and the media continued to ridicule
Now that he’s died — like the media —
the fans that have been silent for years have come out of the woodwork exulting
the loss, and dedicating pieces of work the spectacle of "respecting the
dead". *eye roll*
My question that I have is — who the hell
do they think they’re fooling? Anyone
with an attention span longer than a goldfish remembers too many of them were
there in line taking a swing at Michael Jackson the pedophile, or Michael
Jackson the freak; that this respect for the dead is as disgusting and as
nauseating as the hypocrisy that it was born from. Save your energy and whatever shred of
dignity you had by simply shutting the hell up.
This extolling the death of the "King of Pop" is just plain
disgusting in my opinion.
To answer the question that anyone might
be forming in some reader’s minds: was I ever a fan of Michael Jackson? No.
While I did like one album of his back in the 80s (Thriller was indeed the album), I truly wasn’t
ever a fan of the musician. I admit that
I had originally bought the album because at the time, I was still very much a
part of the group-mentality and influenced by group thought-forms. Any appreciation I had for his type of music
died at the end of the 80s when I found rave, and then later electronica/trance
and anything that I listen to that was pop from that period is just a quiet reminder
of the path that I had walked. After
that, I simply watched the spectacle between his obsession with surgical
alteration and the media’s mockery of it with a sort of morbid fascination as
to how the media and fans crucify their idols and stars when they deviate from
what is considered normal.
Well, that’s about it for the time
being. I’m off to finish the system
clean up and perhaps play a game or two before I wander off to get ready for
sleep and for work. Until the next time.