Tag: Creative Writing

The Absolute Insanity in Editing: The 2nd Revision

The Butchers of Backwater:
“The Thrill to Kill to Spill Blood so Fresh,
The Toll of Your Soul shall PAY IN FLESH.”
– Asher Leviticus 1803

As the pungent odor of the smelling salts filled Joel’s nostril he snapped awake as if he was hit by a lighting bolt. His vision was blurred and he strained his eyes to the point of pain squinting to make out where in fact he was. Joel’s head was pounding like there was a giant metronome was banging away in his head to no end. As his eyes adjusted to the dim candle light of the chandelier and various candelabra’s that sent shadows dancing on the walls with wild abandon.The wall paper was so old it had become yellowed and as brittle as parchment over the countless decades. Large pictures of grimly stoic what Joel assumed where family ancestors framed in dingy gaudy gold frames that lined all four walls of the dinning room. Some of the paintings subjects looked some what deformed but Joel dismissed this to the stone faced portraits of the past where no one dared smile. The black and white old time photographs had faded in various degrees from whitened smudged edges to almost fully faded to the point of being almost black in appearance, and the photos as well as the paintings were emotionless poker faces.There were two medical looking candelabras on the table placed at each end these in combination with the chandelier did little to combat the darkness which encapsulated the room
As Joel’s eyes came slowly into focus he could see he was in a rather large dinning room that was reminiscent of the kind of dinning room one would find in a Old Southern Planation farmhouse. Joel was restrained with thick chains that bound his feet together, secured Joel’s arms to the arms of the old oak chair he was situated in. The chains were also coiled around Joel’s torso like a metallic python. Joel was positioned at one end of the table opposite the designated head of the table. Joel strained against the chains to no avail as it became a reality that he wasn’t going anywhere, and was being held as some sort of hostage. There was a full place setting in front of Joel consisting of a antique china plate that was chipped around its perimeter. There were three forks, two spoons and a knife laid out as well that looked like they were old enough to be genuine silver. The cutlery showed it age as oxidation over years had left its trade mark patina giving the appearance that it was tarnished.
Joel became aware of someone talking behind him in a deep commanding voice, and with the distinct drawl like that of a “Southern Gentlemen” from an era long gone.
“Ah, I see our company has risen from his prolonged slumber. I was beginning to fear that you might never be returning to this world of the living, but look at you now. A true testament to a man’s will and his perseverance over that which is problematic.”
Joel still was still struggling with all his might to come fully back to his senses. Questions swarmed Joel’s battered brain like enraged Hornets adding to his continued confusion. Where the hell was he? Who’s house was this?” “How’d he even get here”,but most of all at this particular moment the primary question was “Who was this man and why did he restrain Joel with an excessive amount of chains?”
“Mr. Joel Fletcher you have the definite look of confusion as to where you are and to that which is going on.” the voice said with a slight tone of mockery.
Joel then heard the distinct sound of centuries old wooden floor sighing with long groans and loud creeping sound of someone walking across it. The foot steps were coming closer and closer from behind Joel. Joel tried to hide his increasing anxiety and fought to keep his voice from wavering.
“Who are you, what in the name of christ is going on here? What do you want?” Joel said as his speech increased in its rate of speed. Damnit Joel thought to himself I can’t show weakness, I must remain calm and focused as possible considering the current circumstances.
“Questions abound don’t they Mr. Fletcher and you shall have all the answers you desire shortly I assure you.” The voice said from directly behind Joel so that Joel could smell the stink of cigarette smoke.
Suddenly a very tall and lean elderly man strode out from behind Joel’s seat and quickly crossed the vast dining room in only a couple of strides stopping at the head of the table. The old man was dressed in a crisp brilliantly white suit complete with a bolo tie. For a split second Joel wonder if he had fallen victim to the demented relatives of Cornel Sanders from the KFC advertisements of his youth. The old man had a full beard that was as white as his suit and long shoulder length hair that for some odd reason was as black as the bottom of an abyss. The old man pulled his chair out and took a seat slowly lowering his long and thin body into the chair. The old man crossed his legs and placed rested his arms on the table on either side of a second place setting. The old man reached into his suit jacket and removed a cigarette case like the ones from the 1920’s. He opened the case, removed a cigarette tapping it lightly and deliberately on the exterior of the case. The old man took a few minutes that seemed like an eternity to Joel to locate his Zippo lighter that had some sort of military insignia on it. The old man lit his cigarette taking in the first couple of drags with gusto before exhaling. A cloud of lingering smoke hovered around his head like a demonic mist.
Once Joel’s eyes met the gentlemen stranger the man began speaking again.
“You must pardon our lack of light for dining. You see with my condition, I’m an albino you see, I’m afraid my disadvantaged eyes are rather sensitive to light, thusly we forgo the harsh light of electricity in favor of the softer less offensive light of candles.” said the Gentlemen stranger as he puffed away on his cigarette like it was going out of style.
“We? We who? I only see you and me sitting here.” asked Joel, his voice now quivering uncontrollably now.
“Well then as you are my humble quest allow me to explain. My family name is Leviticus and we have kept our bloodline pure for centuries even before my family made their way to America. My family was of great wealth and status until the civil war tore us asunder. War is hell Mr. Joel. War is hell indeed.” said Mr. Leviticus in a slow and steady tone before a brief pause. “After the war my family was banished if you will, into the backwaters of the Mississippi were they eked out a meager living hunting Alligators and selling their skins. Then came the unfortunate great depression and the rural people of this land left this place to find greener pastures in bigger towns or perhaps the city. My family being tougher than the gator skins they sold decided to stay put for we would not lose the rest of our family to the industrial world beyond the boarders of the bayou.” Mr. Leviticus said longingly with pride as he stared off into oblivion.
“Now alas my brother and I are all that remains of the once great Leviticus Family lineage.” continued Mr. Leviticus who at this point seemed to be talking to himself as he didn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence as he spoke.
“Now due to the family tradition of keeping the family bloodline clean and pure there were some issues of health with the later generations such as the deformity of both body and mind. My brother being the last offspring born into this family suffers egregiously from these afflictions you see Mr. Fletcher.”
Just then the massive silhouette of a man filled the immense doorway behind the seated Mr. Leviticus.
“Ah Yes dinner is served I do hope you enjoy pork Mr. Fletcher” declared Mr. Leviticus with great pleasure.
“Where is my brother?” Joel asked anxiously as they had been traveling together documenting the impact the oil spill had wreaked upon the Gulf of Mexico and those whose livelihood as fishermen had been destroyed.
“You see Mr. Joel when my brother and I happened upon you and your business partners as well as your aforementioned brother you were all being beaten mercilessly by a group of roving bikers outside a rather unattractive bar in Bella, the text town over from ours. I phoned the police post haste at which point the bikers fled. My brother and I collected y’all, brought you to our family home, mended your wounds and have been caring for y’all ever since.” answered Mr. Leviticus promptly.
Before Joel could get the next question out of his mouth the monstrous silhouette standing in the doorway made its way into the room carrying two dinner plates, one in each hand. The mountain of a man with gnarled and twisted limbs like that of a ancient oak coated in a thick layer of sweat placed a plate in front of Mr. Leviticus delicately. The grotesque giant was where grimy dirt encrusted over alls without a shirt. As Mr. Leviticus’s younger brother made his way over to where Joel was seated the floor boards strained to support the weight of his extremely large frame. The long greasy unkept hair obscured the titans face especially since Mr. Leviticus’s brother tended to walk with his head lowered as if in mourning. Mr. Leviticus’s brother made his way over to Joel where he unceremoniously dropped the plate in front of Joel. The plate crashed down upon the table with a loud clatter which sent some of the meat juice to splatter upon the table.
“ID!” yelled Mr. Leviticus outraged, “You know quite well this is a family heirloom and must be treated with the respect it deserves. Must you be such an uncouth savage brother? Your just lucky that what you lack in the mind you make up for in body. Now leave us and don’t let playing with the food to even enter your minuscule mind.”
Id who had frozen into a statue at the mention of his name cocked his head sideways with his back to his brother Mr. Leviticus as if he was struggling to control his own outrage as the case may be. His gargantuan muscles tightening at ever word that came out of his irritated brother’s mouth. It seemed that Mr. Leviticus’s brother Id was physically affected by his brother’s harsh reprimanding. When Mr. Leviticus was done chastising his younger brother Id promptly bent down and wiped the meat juice off the table with one of his hotdog sized fingers. Id the hastily exited the dining room utilizing the door behind where Joel was seated.
“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners for he is not as civilized as and your aforementioned brother we and I did warn you his appearance is quite off-putting especially upon the in initial meeting.” said Mr. Leviticus apologetically before continuing “Dig in Mr. Fletcher you need to regain your strength.”
Joel and Mr. Leviticus ate in silence. Joel couldn’t help but notice the pork chops were fresh and succulent unlike any he had had before. The meat was so tender it melted in Joel’s mouth coating his young with the fantastic taste of the meat. The smell of the meat was intoxicating just on its own.
“Pardon me Mr. Leviticus but this pork is divine I’d hate my brother to miss such a grand meal.” Joel said in all honesty.
“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher your brother is here in spirit and on the plate.” Mr. Leviticus said matter of factly with a slight sneer.
“What the hell are you talking about, what are you saying?” Joel asked in full blown panic his heart pounding as if it was attempting hammer its way through Joel’s ribcage.
“You see Mr. Fletcher when times are tough and food is scarce my family’s motto is “If there is no meat there is always man” and this motto has gotten us through many a lean time in our history. We are you see cannibals of conviction and convenance . My family acquired this trait after my ancestor Barnabas Leviticus spent some time in the Fiji Islands back in 1839,”announced Mr. Leviticus as he leisurely chewed his meal with an air of great satisfaction.
“You have to understand that a key piece of Fijian history revolves around cannibalism as my illustrious great granddaddy four times over found out first hand himself.” Continued Mr. Leviticus with admiration “The indigenous tribes that inhabited the Fiji Islands back then had adopted cannibalism from their long voyage at sea with the lack of adequate nutritious food. This forced the sailors to consume the flesh of the dead for survivals sake. After the land the indigenous tribes cannibalism became a normal part of their diet as more people arrived the competition for natural resources, property and most of all women. Also waring tribes devoured their slain enemies for not just food, but for their mighty victory as well.” Mr. Leviticus took a long sip from his mason jar that most likely contained Moonshine.
A growing grin of sadistic delight let Joel know as far as Mr. Leviticus was concerned he was enjoying the torment he was subjecting Joel to. Joel tired with all his might to process the horror of what he had just been told.
“Barnabas was the great explorer of our family. In the Fiji islands he met and befriended Udre udre who was the chief of one of the more predominate tribes. Barnabas and Udre spent many years together and their bond only strengthened over time as the two became like brothers more than friends.” said Mr. Leviticus triumphantly again taking a long sip from his mason jar of Moonshine before continuing his terrible tale.
“Now the most prevalent part of this story is chief Udre udre, according to the 2003 Guiness World Record, held the title of “most prolific cannibal” having eaten between 872 to 900 people. So as you may of surmised Barnabas learned an extensive about of knowledge on the subject and culture of cannibalism before returning home many year later.”
“Thats fucking insane, your insane!” screamed Joel at the top of his lungs, “This is bullshit!! Your a liar! Your fucking lying you sick son of a bitch!” Joel fought relentlessly at the chains that confined him to the chair trying desperately to free himself.
“Don not act so surprised Mr. Fletcher as this is not the first time you have heard of cannibalism I’m certain of that,” said Mr. Leviticus snidely in a mocking tone. “Id can you summon Mr. Fletchers brother to the table please I would appreciate it so.” Mr. Leviticus said in a booming voice that dominated the room.
Joel was terrified, completely confused and disoriented. His pulse was racing like a jack rabbits on meth, sweet was rolling down his face like a mid summer rain shower. His eyes frantically searched the room finding nothing to hope for. Joel was trapped alone with two cannibal brothers one of which claimed that they killed and cooked his brother. Not only that but the mentally crippling thought that he may have in deed dined upon his brothers flesh drove Joel to the point of lunacy.
The slow solid steps echoed down the hallway as Id returned to the dinning room. Joel’s racing mind was flooding his head with horrible scenarios of torture and death. Joel was so wrought with panic it seemed that he could actually feel his hair growing. Finally Id’s imposing body once again filled the doorway behind Joel his shadow looming over him like a storm cloud waiting out the calm before the storm. Id crept up behind Joel stopping directly behind him. As Id lurked behind Joel could hear the labored breath of Id with the steady deep inhalations that ended more or less in a exacerbated sigh coming from directly above his head, but Joel was to terrified to even entertain the idea of looking up into the face of the monstrosity standing over him.
“Where is my brother you demented backwoods inbred hillbilly son of a bitch where is HE?!” demanded Joel in frustrated anger struggling so hard the chains that bound him rattled like a wind chimes in a hurricane.
“Id if you’d be so kind” said Mr. Leviticus in a monotone voice indicating his boredom with the matter.
Without warning the immense arm swung around in front of Joel and slammed something on the table before withdrawing itself back to its owner standing behind of Joel. It happened so fast that Joel was initially too startled to comprehend what was happening, and sat transfixed by fear like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler barreling down upon it. Then Joel saw what Id had deposited upon the table in front of him, his brothers severed head.
“JESUS CHRIST ZANDER!” exclaimed Joel in a fevered pitch as he gazed upon his brothers decapitated head.
“Collect yourself Mr. Fletcher your bordering on the hysterical,” commanded Mr. Leviticus who was now scowling in absolute disgust and bitter distain.
“ID, ID come collect what remains of Mr. Fletcher’s brother and take it back to the processing building quick as can be,” said Mr. Leviticus waving his hand royals back and forth as he spoke.
“I think its imperative that you understand that the Leviticus family uses every viable part of the carcass, the last of your brother’s remains will be processed into head cheese,” Mr. Leviticus said sounding more like a man rather than the monster he was.
“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher you aren’t long for this world yourself so the time of grievance over eating your brother will be short I assure you” said Mr. Leviticus leering as he bent forward running his tongue over his yellow nicotine stained teeth.
“You see Mr. Fletcher whats on tomorrow night’s dinner menu is you, but until would you care for some dessert?”

America’s Social Problems: The Sickness of a Dying Nation

What are the top 10 American social problems in my opinion?

They Are:
1. What The war in the middle East
2. Police corruption
3. Financial inequality
4. Out sourcing jobs
5. The legal system
6. The media
7. The healthcare system
8. The Pharmaceutical industry
9. The Prison system
10. The war on drugs

I will briefly summarize my reasoning behind the issues on the aforementioned list in no particular order. I believe them all to be extremely problematic and detriment to American society none being any more or less than the others.

The number one thing that baffles me to no fucking end is America has been at War in Afghanistan from 2001-2014 and less than a year after the 9/11 terror attacks America forgot about. It was like with previous war such as WWI and WWII where America rallied together as a nation against evil and all that shit. Nor was it like the Vietnam war where ACTUAL BATTLE COVERAGE was shown on the nightly news. The media just transitioned back into ignorant oblivion. Not only that but America was at war with Iraq at the EXACT SAME TIME, SIMULTANEOUS FUCKING WARS. IS that all, NOPE. America was involved in the Libyan Cicil War in 2011 in Libya.  America ALSO is currently at war (and has been since 2004) in North-West Pakistan, War in Afghanistan (AGAIN) 2015-Present, AND from 2014 to present America is also at War on ISIL 2014-Present in Iraq/Libya/Syria and Nigeria. My Bottomline: WHERE IS THE MEDIA COVERAGE and WHY THE HELL DON’T AMERICANS ACKNOWLEDGE THEIR COUNTRY IS STILL WARING IN THE MIDDLE EAST?! I digress for now.

When it comes to the issue of outsourcing its a doubled edged sword to say the least. While the outsourcing of American jobs created a massive nation wide unemployment crisis (that all but eliminated the American middle class.) slowly American corporations are bringing jobs back stateside. Yet while American corporations are bringing jobs back to the U.S. they are paying their employees half or less of their previous salary while working them three times as hard with few to no benefits. In the end American employees are being exploited so big companies can save on shipping costs.

All I will say on the subject of financial inequality is it has NEVER BEEN GREATER. With the near destruction of the Middle Class due to outsourcing, shitty Market, and Predatory Loans America has never come closer to being one of the 3rd world Counties we have Charity Ads for (Think “For just the price of a cup of coffee you can provide food, education and healthcare for….”) Financial Equality has also been exacerbated by the increasing commercialism of the American public for increasing profits. YOUR PAYING TO BE ALIVE. CAN YOU SAY HEALTH INSURANCE?!

The War on drugs has been and continues to be a complete undeniable failure. Even Mexico who was America’s tag team partner after 40 years admitted the war was lost mainly due to the way it was being fought. Drugs are not living things so really how the fuck do you declare war with inanimate objects so to speak?! Dealing with the addiction instead of fighting it (again declaring war upon a disease/mental disorder) We already saw alcohol prohibition not only FAIL SPECTACULARLY but also it had serious side effects like ORGANIZED CRIME because the moral to this twisted tail is PEOPLE WILL DRINK NO MATTER WHAT. It should be painfully obvious that the cliche “those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it” applies here when it comes to the war on drugs. Yet not only has the war on drugs failed so monumentally, but the Big AMERICAN Pharmaceutical Companies along with the FDA caused/created the current Opiate Addiction.

Why You Ask could this happen? Pharmaceutical companies created SYNTHESIZED MAN MADE HEROIN in many shapes and names Vicodin, Oxycontin, Percocet, Fentanyl (patches) and the FDA allowed the Consumer Market to be FLOODED with BILLIONS OF NEW PRESCRIPTIONS without fully examining or learning the problematic issue of addiction they just wanted TO CASH IN AS FAST AS POSSIBLE at the expense of the American Public. I will digress for now.

Accept the AmericanHealthcare System went for helping the sick and injured to TOTAL CAPITALIST MAKEOVER. Patients equal Profits. If you don’t have insurance RAPING YOUR BANK ACCOUNTS while providing LESS AND LESS services. Fucked Up Fact: It Costs $1,200 to $1,500 a DAY to stay in the hospital. THATS JUST FOR THE FUCKING ROOM, THE ACTUAL SPACE and Nothing Else. Hospitals started to charge for EVERYTHING and they charge it all separately. You pay for medications BY PILL hence the joke of the $11 hospital aspirin.
The social problem that I have extreme fucking difficulty examining without personal judgment is the subject of police corruption (which includes police brutality and misconduct as well as corruption and breaking ANY and All was.)
The reason I would be so judgmental on the topic of police corruption is the problem is escalating through out all 50 states of America. Police officers are being charged with planting evidence, thief/robbery, assault, rape and murder.  The COPS have BECOME the CRIMINALS. The cliche for this one is the “If you work with monsters make sure you don’t become one” saying. Thanks to the internet combined with Social Media and the prevalence of Smart Phones equipped with video cameras are exposing rampant illegal police activity increasingly on a daily basis. Also in cases where a corrupt police officer is charged with a crime up to and including murder they are put on paid leave until their court date. THATS A PAID FUCKING VACATION.

Once the police officer ends up in court the prosecutor, District Attorney and the presiding judge all weigh in on the side of the police officer resulting in the police officer being absolved of all charges and sent back to work. YOU GOT IT NO PRISON TIME THEY GET TO CO RIGHT BACK TO THEIR FUCKING JOBS. Virtually none of the corrupt police officers caught and charged with a crime(s) ever serve time in prison unless its time for a sacrificial lamb of a scape goat to “Make an example out of” when the public outrage is at a high. It actually MEANS NOTHING.

Lastly lets address the controversial subject of the  law abiding police officers (referred to as “the good cops”) who have never broken a single law protect the corrupt police officers under the accepted “Code of Silence” This meaning quite simply the good police officers will not report or assist in the prosecution of corrupt police officers no matter how egregious the charges or conduct. So I’m calling HUMONGOUS BULLSHIT THERE. Its a Real Life Get Out of Jail Free Card for corrupt cops.

When it comes to the Legal System all I will say for now anyways. When I got arrested and charged with a Felony I was lucky enough to be able to afford a lawyer with a excellent reputation and connections. The first time I met with him in his office he said the following and I will remember it to the day I fucking die:

“You have to know what where dealing with here. You see there 3 kinds of Laws and there’re Rich People Laws, White People Laws and Minority Laws.” He meant if I had been Rich I’d get off easy, White people can get in trouble, but have the benefit of the court on their side so good chance I wouldn’t serve time and if I was minority I’d be going to jail no if, ands or buts.

As far as the Prison system goes all I can say is Over crowding and inhumane conditions are ongoing problems BUT PRIVATIZING PRISONS a PRISONER FOR PROFIT system your guaranteeing peoples rights will be violated (to keep them in or send them to prison) because your not a defendant YOUR A FUTURE CLIENT/CUSTOMER. CUSTOMER SERVICE AT ITS WORST.

The Media has become a fucking farce. The media stopped doing honest and worthy reporting to cater to the ongoing moronic American Public. The Media humped on wagon with Social Media make both products shittier. Now between biased news, fake fucking news,fluff pieces and FCC it may not have been what America wanted but its what it fucking got. Reality TV was the beginning of the end of all Media. No one cares about the American GI thats killed in the ongoing War, BUT PEOPLE SHIT OVER THE FUCKING KARDASHIANS. Think about it.

America is Cannibalizing Itself replacing the Constitution with Commercialism. Your NO LONGER a citizen of the country of American, you consumer client of American Inc. LLC. The government, the Pharmaceutical companies and Big Business Corporations ARE COMMERCIALIZING EVERY ASPECT OF YOUR LIFE FOR PROFIT.

The America we all came to love is gone, there is no longer an American Dream.

Technology’s Battle Over The 4th Amendment Continues

George Orwell wrote in his novel 1984 of a future America where the government tracks its civilians through monitors placed everywhere thus illuminating all personal privies of any sort. In todays society that so deeply embraces expanding technology we can see that the fictitious government controlled world that Orwell wrote about is on the verge of becoming a reality.
In the article “U.S. and Apple dig in for court fight over encryption” by Devil Barrett ( in Washington DC) and Daisuke Wakabayashi (in San Fransisco) published in theWall Street Journal we can see the possible future framework of a government that can spy on any of its civilians using technology.
The controversy surrounds the December 2nd terrorist attack by mass murderer Syed Rizwan Farook and his wife in San Bernardino California in which the two opened fire on an office holiday party killing 14 people as well as injuring an additional 22 people during the attack. In lieu of the incident the Federal Bureau of Investigation of American requested the help of the global technology company Apple. The FBI requested Apple help them with their on going investigation into the incident by having Apple dis-encrypt attacker Farook’s cell phone to search for further information such as accomplices or future terrorist attack plan. Apple’s CEO Tim D. Cook flat-out denied the FBI’s request for the dis-encryption of Farook’s phone. The FBI took their case to judge Sheri Pym who passed an order requiring Apple to assist the FBI in circumventing Farook’s encrypted password. Judge Pym’s order gave Apple 5 days in which to comply with the courts or challenge the ruling, which Apple CEO Tim D. Cook has already vowed to do.
This is article is an excellent example of the Value-conflict’s Ameliorative theology. This is due to the fact that all Americans can agree that when it comes to terroristic acts of violence that the perpetrator’s should be stopped before they can harm a single person, but is the position of the American government that it should be allowed to hack into anyone ones technical devices (such as smart phones, laptops and tablets with the help of Apple) whenever they deem it a necessity to prevent a future terrorist incident the way to insure the safety of American citizens?
The dilemma arising from the December 2nd shooting is in the FBI’s request to not only have Apple assist in the dis-encryption of Farook’s phone but having Apple lower their encryption software to allow the government a “Back Door” that would allow them to access anyone’s technical device and access all personal information held within as well as to track people’s every movement. Yet if Apple complies with the FBI’s future back door plan the low security would not only allow the American government to hack a person’s phone but criminals, identity thieves and foreign governments as well as long as they had the device number.
So there is one sect of society believes that no matter what Apple should automatically comply with any and all of the FBI’s requests while another sect of society believes that assisting the FBI even in dis-encrypting just one iPhone would open Pandora’s box at the top of a very slippery slope that leads to the government accessing the technology used by its citizens for the simple purpose of spying on them under the gneiss of National Security/Anti-terrorism activity.
The question is in the end too combat future attacks should American’s surrender their 4th amendment rights, those rights that protect them from unlawful search and seizure to assist the American government’s ongoing fight against terrorism?

This reminds me of another book Joseph Heller by the name of “Catch 22”.  We already know the NSA has been using the excuse of fighting terrorists/terrorists attacks to actually SPY on its citizens.

So the real question at hand is simply this: Has the Media and American Government INSTILLED SO MUCH FEAR into its citizens that those citizens give them access to ALL THERE TECHNOLOGY (Phones, Laptops, Pcs, Tablets etc.)

I think the fucking fear of a corrupt government currently run by a moronic man-child and his crew of self serving billionaires, Racists,Anti-semetics, Russia loving sexists are already running amok on the American people JUSTIFIYING  THEIR ACTIONS BASED ON FEAR NOT FACTS.

This is the 1st Propaganda promoting American President. You want those scumbags to have 24-7 access to ALL of your private lives?! I think that fear of a omnipresent and oppressive government is A REAL AND PRESENT DANGER.

DON’T SUCCUMB TO THE FALSE FEARS.

The Hypocrisy of the FCC has NO JURISDICTION Here.

Disclaimer Statement: I once again must raise the issue of America’s 1st Amendment giving Americans the god given right to say whatever they want however they want, BUT America also has the FCC. The FCC totally undermines the 1st Amendment as the FCC’s sole job is the CENSORSHIP of any and all forms of media. The FCC devised the rating systems for television, the movies and music. They also have the power to out right ban or completely shut down anyone that violates their “Codes of Ethics” essentially. This is one of the worlds LARGEST OXYMORONS in the entire History of Man.

NOW FOR THE BUSINESS AT HAND:

I do not endorse censorship in any way, shape or form and as such I fully exercise the 1st Amendment here at f-yourblog.com, and will allow ANYTHING when it comes to content of articles posted.

Now I am also painfully aware that the American public is NOT as accepting, tolerant or open minded as they claim or think they are. There are also whole organizations outside of the aforementioned FCC that crusade against whatever they find “offensive”.

SO what am I going to do?!

I don’t want to deal with any insulted, angry, offended or self righteous people or groups because I have far better things to do with my time rather than to hear constant bitching. I ADVISE ANY READER IN QUESTION refer to an earlier post made pertaining to the “Mission Statement” of f-yourblog.com. to help avoid initial issues/problems.

f-yourblog.com  IS NOT FOR ANYONE UNDER 18 AND HONESTLY WITH NEW UPCOMING CONTENT SHOULD BE ANYONE OVER 21, BUT I DIGRESS.

f-yourblog.com IS NOT FOR EVERYONE or a MAINSTREAM AUDIENCE or GENERAL PUBLIC.

f-yourblog.com is a niche for unconventional and unorthodox writers who have trouble getting their writing out to their audience due to restrictions either by the government (FCC) or restrictions of publishers based on their view of the reading public (i.e. Moral/Ethical issues)

THUSLY this is how I will handle the subject of subject matter here at f-yourblog.com.

I will issue WARNINGS to potential readers if and only if the posted article has 1 or more of the following:

  1. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, not mild nor moderate violence ONLY GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. To help clarify my point here is the article reads like a modern horror movie that falls under the newly named “Torture Porn” I will give you the curtesy of mentioning it at THE TOP of the article. This is to help insure readers who aren’t fans of such writing won’t be subjected to it.
  2. SEX OR NUDITY, Only if the the article has pornographic content at the level of an actual porno movie I will give the readers a heads up as well since America is Sexually Repressed to say the least.
  3. DISTURBING SUBJECT MATTER, this includes things such as Suicide, Death, Self Harm, Hardcore Drug Use, Cannibalism, Incest, Murder, Satan/Occult, Necrophilia etc. Basically any social Taboo with have a Reader’s Warning.

THERE ARE 1 TOPIC THAT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED HERE AT f-yourblog.com and that topic is Pedophilia. Even I Less Sober have at least one line I will NEVER CROSS and thats publishing posts pertaining to, including or endorsing pedophilia. I believe pedophiles should be castrated  in public and allowed to bleed out ( bleed to death). In my mind the only good pedophile is A DEAD ONE (Remember guns kill pedophiles dead for only 50 cents or the current price of a bullet.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Other Side OF The Galaxy by Spacedog

The other side of the galaxy
The other side………

That is where I have been living the past few days. Isn’t it ironic that was the place I was trying to get to for 12 years or more and now I’ve finally arrived. thanks doctor dippy. But this is not the side I wanted to be on. There is so much pain here and no laughter. I can’t stand it. My favorite memories do not help me. All I have is my music.. My Tori, my industrial, my rock, my dance, mostly things without words well except tori she always wins. I’m not living by words today it’s all deep fused emotions. pianos and drums and synthesizers (sorry guitars not this week). pianos, pianos. I love pianos. errrrrrrrrrr. im actually not sad, that’s why I put indescribable. im useless cheer, if i were regular cheer i’d be on recall like them dell batteries. i need a recharge so my roulette wheel stops spinning. it’s tired of spittin out random numbers. i wish someone could pull me out of “the other side” but this ain’t like some quicksand where I’m like ,”Help pull me out big strong man”, no it’s more like I just jumped from a plane and don’t know where the cord is. im not in danger of splatting. i like that noise tho SPLAT!!!!! back to my piano cove.

Assisted Suicide a Political & Moral Dilemma

An American dilemma facing the nation once again has come to the forefront of the medical community in Maryland’s petition to allow doctor assisted suicide, will Maryland become the 6th state of the union to allow such a practice?
In the article “Maryland house committee to hear testimony for End of Life Options” by Ovetta Wiggins in the Washington post on February 9th we can see an excellent example of the Value-conflict’s moral typology. Maryland tried to pass the bill last year under the name The Death with Dignity Act which failed to pass. This year the Death with Dignity Act was renamed The End of Life Options bill as well as the addition of some new conditions to the bill to alleviate some concerns of the states law makers. The newly added conditions are as follows,
1. There would be a private consultation between the patient and their doctor to insure that doctor assisted suicide option is truly what the patients wants of their own free will (i.e. outside influences that could have affected the patients medical choices)
2. The state of Maryland would have to set up a statewide database to record and track the number of patient doctor assisted suicide’s preformed in Maryland.
3. The patient must have 6 or less months to live and be physically capable of taking the doctor prescribed medication.
At the forefront of Maryland’s doctor assisted suicide is the concern pertaining to the intellectually/developmental disabled citizens living in Maryland. If Maryland effectively passes then the mentally disabled citizens of Maryland would have access as well to doctor assisted suicide but the troubling question is could/can a mentally disabled patient able to make such a serious medical decision? As of now the mentally disabled community of Maryland along with the Catholic Church stand in stern opposition to the End of Life Options Bill. The mentally disabled community sites a previous history of mentally disabled people having access to proper medical care due to their perceived lesser value in society as its chief reason for its objection.
A great deal of controversy arises from the simple wording, instead of calling it assisted suicide it should be referred to as doctor assisted Euthanasia.The reason for this is to combat the negative stigma surrounding the word suicide. The religious would tell you suicide is a damnable sin, law enforcement will tell you suicide is illegal and the public as a whole tells you growing up as well as an adult that suicide is just plain wrong and should be looked down upon. The crux of the doctor assisted suicide debate lies in the use and definition of the word suicide. That is to say for the average person suicide is a permanent solution for a temporary problem like drug addiction or bi polar depression which can be treated with rehab, medications and therapy.
But when one talks about doctor assisted suicide its an entirely different affair. A patient who is diagnosed with a terminal disease (example being Aids,MS or Cancer Etc.) its effectively a death sentence, the afflicted patient has absolutely no chance of recovering from said disease. Not only that but with 6 or less months to live its safe to say the patient has already suffered immensely physically,emotionally and mentally already.
The question at hand that we must ask ourselves is if the personal values/judgements of the majority should deny individuals the right to end their pain and suffering by choosing doctor assisted suicide.

Dear Me Oh My Shut The Fuck Up Already!!! By Spacedog

Life is about many things to many different people. Family, friends, money, health, wealth…. the list is endless. Each means something different to us. Some mean nothing at all.

Then there is the other end of the spectrum. Our vices. The sex, drugs and rock&roll part of our brains. Everyone has one or ten or hundreds. I tend to gravitate towards the higher end of the spectrum. I’m not sure if I could list 100 vices off the top of my head but if I could I would easily be into more than half of them.

Not that I do them every day or really all that often at all. The worst things I probably do on a daily basis is smoking cigarettes. Everything else is merely on an as wanted schedule. Sometimes there is discipline involved. Other times it is just complete debauchery and out of control.

Age has mellowed me somewhat though. Instead of indulging way too frequently like in my 20s, I usually just get angry now at certain things on my television set and in the real world.

First of all, ANY AND ALL anti commercials really need to get the FUCK off my television. Tell me to quit smoking while I have a nicotine patch on and haven’t thought about a cigarette in 3 days and well I got the subconscious thought to go out and buy a pack. Tell me not to drink and drive and I then am thinking about whether I should get drunk tonight.

Fortunately one such thing I have grown out of is trying that one random drug or ten. Most of the unknown drugs I tried I heard about on the evening or nightly local news. I get that these news types think that no druggies are watching their programs because obviously how could they possibly be interested in anything other than drugs. All promoted under the guise of protect the children which leads me to the next point.

FUCK THE KIDS! Not like Michael Jackson fuck or like Ray Rice fuck the kids in the face. I always hear about stupid shit to protect the children. I can’t go buy a pack of ten cigarettes because of oh the children. The children. Yet I can buy an airline bottle of alcohol, a single bullet of ammo, a nickle bag of weed (yes they still exist), or a small amount of pretty much anything  else considered a vice.

Some states are incredibly ridiculous with the save the children crap. Hawaii just passed a law making the smoking age 21 and New Jersey just attempted to do the same. So you can serve and die in the military and potentially die at any moment yet you can’t go on the 30-50 year death sentence known as nicotine. They need to chill out. New Jersey is even worse. They want kids to drive around with a sticker on the back of the car if under 21 and not have them drive after certain hours. Now I know I said fuck the kids but while that would stop me from well fucking kids or buying someone underage alcohol, it only means one thing. The cops get to fuck the kids. I don’t want to fuck them like that hard, unless they are in college and sex with someone potentially that inexperienced is like A Tale of Two Cities. The best of times, the worst of times.

So I’m kinda drifting like a butterfly. I really should have wrote this earlier in the day when I was just raging mad. I got a call from a friend after I left an angry voicemail about Sprint sucking fat donkey balls. I can’t roll around and listen to Spotify with them and the several phone calls I do make a week well sadly unless I call people at midnight they drop like an 80 year old’s nutsack.

So I bitched and then she said don’t drink tonight. Not that it was any of her business what the fuck I am doing later on. I really had not even given getting drunk tonight even a glance. It all goes back to do not tell me what I should not do. If you want to give me something positive to do by all means just do not tell me what not to do.

It is the reason I also have total beef with any of those absolutely fucking retarded anonymous programs. I have been to many and will be going to many again soon as part of my undercover look into boring myself into a bottle of rum. Let’s sit around and rehash old stories and bitch and whine and moan and talk about Jesus.

I seriously had issues with alcohol in the past and would be chill with well just not drinking. It makes me fat and severely obsessive. No thank you. Yet through AA I can honestly say the only thing positive I ever got out of it was roughly 10 blow jobs. Other then my 12 pack of Miller Lite cure for the common cold I had not touched a drop for over a month. (Save your fucking medal and clapping.) I only thought about it twice before I got sick. Yet in an average AA meeting alcohol is brought up 20-40 times depending on the type of meeting. Whatever happened to out of sight, out of mind? I guess stupidity won this ballgame.

So I think my beef has run out for this evening. If I typed every vice related issue I want to address, I would never leave this seat. So what exactly gets on your last nerves? Or who would you like to tell to go fuck themselves?

I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt.3: Here Come The Cops

As suddenly as they were switched off the stage lights burst back on. The confused and intoxicated crowd mingled around desperately trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with the on and off again lights. Just then the basement door flung open with such impact that when it slammed against the wall it sounded like a goddamn concussion grenade. The Bar/Club owner bum rushed into the room like a bull released from its pen at a rodeo. He strode to the middle of the room and promptly announced that do to “The Destructive Behavior Bullshit” and ” A Totally Fucked Up Band Lead By A Bald Degenerate Fucking Nightmare” was shutting the show down immediately. This did not bode well with the fans in the least. Instantly the Owner (and the 4 or five bouncers he had brought with him to work security, mainly his own) was plunged into a barrage of insults, violent threats, and pro GG Allin rhetoric. Needless to say the Owner made an extremely hasty retreat back upstairs to his bar. GG then took this pause in the pandemonium to address the crowd.

“Fuck is this Shit?! We want to keep playing but these motherfuckers keep cutting the power! The owner wants to shut our show the fuck down, do you want us to stop?!” GG yelled belligerently at the still awe struck audience. The unanimous answer of the crowd rang out like riot as fans screamed over each other like methhead auctioneers.

“FUCK NO!”, “GG IS GOD!”, “FUCK THIS SHIT!”, “RIOT TIME MOTHERFUCKERS!”, “WE WANT BLOOD!”, “BLOOD FOR YOU!”, “EAT MY FUCK!” and so on and so forth.

This incited GG like gasoline being pissed on a fire. GG was scowling in intense hatred apparently for everything and everybody present. GG was pacing the stage back and forth like a caged fucking animal as he quickly picked up his pace. GG grabbed a crushed beer can from the side of the stage and then used it to slash his torso preparedly  like some primitive caveman’s knife.

From what I had reseated about GG Allin this kind of shitshow common occurrence at GG’s concerts. GG Allin concerts/shows on average only lasted 15-20 minutes total before (like now) the Club owner cut the power or the venue was stormed by the police. GG had been at this point in career to be arrested 52 times for lied acts, indecent exposure, obscenity and even shitting on stage. I had watched the infamous GG Allin documentary films called “Hated: GG Allin and The Murder Junkies” by a young Todd Phillips in 1994 (a year after GG’s death due to surprise, surprise a Heroin Overdose on June 28th 1993) In the documentary GG’s older brother Merle Allin and bass player for The Murder Junkies is interviewed rather extensively throughout. In one of the interview clips Merle even states this fact further.

Merle commented that”When you went on tour (with GG) you never expect to finish the tour and thats for one of two reasons either The Hospital or Jail.” referring to the fact due to his stage show GG not only could/would be arrested , but due to his intense performances GG could also just as easily end up in the ER.

Thats when a small calvary of cops started to slowly file into the basement show venue like the fucking gestapo. Apparently the Owner had fled back upstairs and called in the cops ASAP to bail him and his Bar out of serious trouble. The crown seemed to split into to distinctly different groups this point. The one group were the ambivalent and angst filled Anarchistic fans who stood their ground while antagonizing the cops relentlessly. The second group were the polar opposite as the scrambled for any exit out of the show before getting beaten and arrested by the militant police personnel.

My buddy and coworker Chuck has decided being antiauthoritarian to the core of his basic being was siding with those who chosen to enter into the escalating conflict with the cops. Meanwhile my other friend and coworker Mike and I agreed it was in our best interest to skedaddle like our lives depended on it.

While the insanity ensued The Murder Junkies stood on the stage just a confused as anyone else caught up in the may lay. GG had abandoned the stage and immersed himself in the crowd to avoid initial detection by the conclave of cops. A handful of GG’s hardcore fans had grouped up and were now attempting to get GG out of the building before being apprehended by the asshole authorities.

 

“GG Over here, Over Here GG Come on lets get you the fuck outta here” yelled the group of hardcore fans desperately trying to get GG’s attention, and aid him in his escape from prosecution. Finally at last GG’s then girlfriend Liz (who was leading the group) managed to grab GG”s arm and redirect him. The problem was while the escape group comprised of die hard fans had united and caught up with their quarry still had no real plan for escape. The motley crew of super fans circled around GG and were aimlessly migrating through the crowd towards the stage at the back of the room (being the farthest point away from increasing police presence). Once they reached the stage GG pushed and shoved his way over to his brother Merle who was still standing on the right stage smoking a cigarette. Mike and I figured GG and his Mega Fans were experts at exactly this, and being we too wanted to bail the fuck out for the identical reason figured it be wisest to follow them. We managed to make our way through the small sea of human bumper cars to the back of the room by the left side of the stage.

By now the the fight the power fans  were locked in full on combat with the cops. Swearing at cops had turned into swinging on the cops. Beer bottles were being pelted at the police along with anything else that wasn’t bolted down. The police retaliated with excessive amount of mace and then upped the ante by taking their tazers out. As the first few fans were rendered enabled by the first wave of tazings the crowd got crazier. Fans were using chair legs and other various debris to club the cops like police piñatas. Some fans were flailing all over like snakes having seizures as the police used zip ties to restrain them. Others were continuing the chaotic carnage by battling the police, and others already detained and restrained were being led out of the show in a single file line. A security guard of the Owner had been leveled to the ground and was being mercilessly kicked and stomped by a growing gang of blood thirsty violent minded fans. The building noise was reaching a deafening level as all hell and high water had laid complete waste to any as resemblance of a concert.

Mike and I while following GG and his escape artist hardcore fans we had become stuck up against the left side of the stage. We could no longer move having been blocked in by a number of other concert goers who launched into a fan on fan full out fist fight. At this moment I looked over at Mike who shot his gaze up to the actual stage and I instantly knew what he meant. Mike hoisted himself up onto the stage accidentally bumping into the then guitarist for The Murder Junkies William Weber. Mike then helped me as clambered up on stage. The members of The Murder Junkies barely batted an eyelash at us as if to let us know they could care less who the hell we were. We weaved around behind the drum kit and the drummer Dino The Naked Drummer who was vacantly staring off into space or some shit. Once we had achieved moving across the stage Mike grabbed my arm. I asked him what the fuck could he possibly want, and thats when Mike directed my attention to behind the curtain hanging behind Dino. It was hiding the back wall where there to our enormous luck there was loading dock door. Its one of those street level doors you see walking down the street that opens from the basement of the building, and onto the street for receiving deliveries and such. This was the chink in the aggressive storm of utter anarchy that would be our escape to the freedom on the street. Just then Mike did something that surprised the shit out of me and then some. Mike fought his way over to the front right of the stage and blurted out,

“GG! GG! We can get you out right fucking now, COME ON!!”

READERS: Stay tuned For The Final Installment Of This 4 Part Piece.                       I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt. 4: The Salvation of the Street                 COMING SOON DATE TBD

I don’t Know What I Am, But I Know I’m Great

I live in live in the back right corner of the Cardboard Neighborhood with its four tall walls and retractable ceiling located in the Southern territory of The Closet.

I’m not Alone, though I wish I was.
My neighbors are a bunch of troglodytes to say the least.
Who are my Neighbors you ask? Well, fine I’ll tell you though it’s a waste of both of our time.
The first of my neighbors is a rather large pocket knife. PK as I call him because I don’t know or want to know his actual name.
He’s a bore. He never talks. He just periodically blurts out military slogans such as ‘Death before dishonor” and “Remember the Alamo”.
There is a gang of condoms that while still attached to each other like siamese twins are without a proper box like a bunch of savages.
All the condoms want to do is talk to the small army of naked women in the large stack of magazines where apparently clothes are forbidden.
The magazine girls and the condoms just hit on each other all day in an endless string of “Ohs” and “Ahs” .
I don’t know any of the condoms names, or the army of naked ladies names, but if I had to make an educated guess I’d say that they all appear to be called “Baby”.
I can survive my asinine neighbors because I am special.
Those outside the cardboard confines of the neighborhood call me The Big Bad Boy.
They claim I can take your head off like a shotgun.
Thus I think its safe to assume I am in fact royalty.
Yet if you’re not convinced of my awe inspiring greatness then you can choke on this.
I’m the only one in the neighborhood who gets invited to the land of giants.
At least twice a day the giant named Tim comes and collects me.
I believe Tim is the leader of this particular group of giants.
Once in a while it’s just me and Tim hanging out, this again proves my greatness as I’m the only one the giant Tim consults in private behind the curtain of his court.
Most of the time though when Tim comes to collect me he is surrounded by his fellow giant friends who play second fiddle to Tim.
Tim lifts me out of the cardboard neighborhood and carries me to the bathroom, as it is called, yet I have not seen a single giant taking a bath in all these long years.
The Giant Tim turns on a metal appendage protruding from something called a sink.
Tim then fills my belly full of cold, crisp, clean water.
The cool water flows directly down into my awaiting belly via my mouth which is always agape.
Then Tim takes me back to the land of giants which I like to refer to as Timsland.
Tim places me on a low circular table which his friend giants are sitting around so that they may admire me.
I’m the most stunning centerpiece these giants have ever known.
After a few minutes of idle chit chat the giant Tim along with his friends take turns filling my belly button with various exotic and quite aromatic plants with names like “Grape Ape” or “OG Kush”
I suppose these are gifts paying tribute to me and all that I am.
Then the truly grand party begins.
Giant Tim lights sweet smelling sticks called Intense I believe due to the pungent trails of smoke that drift from its end when exposed to fire.
Tim then plays the music of other giants I’ve never met with strange and exotic names like Metallica, Slayer, and Anthrax at a rather high volume.
Tim then sits down with his fellow giants around the table.
He takes a small combustable device and creates a small flickering flame.
He then holds the small flame up to my belly button and sets the exotic plant, given to me as a tribute, on fire.
As the plant smolders in my belly button Tim inhales the smoke through my entire body and out through a rather large hole in my head.
After I make my rounds the giants are pleased with me and agree I am something referred to as “Cool as shit” which is obviously another dubious title for me affirming I am royalty even more so.
The giants then lounge around Timsland eyes half closed in satisfaction.
They giggle, laugh, smile and thoroughly enjoy themselves in my company.
Still, things are not always so copacetic in Timsland.
Timsland is under constant threat by an even larger female giant known as an Adult.
Sometimes during the parties the Adult summons Tim and Tim makes a frantic exit while the other giants look on anxiously.
But it can get even worse I tell you.
Sometimes the Adult storms into Timsland and crashes the party she wasn’t invited to.
When the Adult invades Timsland Tim immediately hides me from view.
I believe this is because the larger Adult wants to capture me for my endless greatness and take me far away from Timsland to serve only her.
Tim being the smaller of the two giants would not fair well in a physical confrontation so he must hide me so I can’t be confiscated by the Adult threat.
One day the Adult found where Tim was hiding me.
The Adult was enraged at Tim keeping her from me and she then kidnapped me.
I was thrown into a prison known as The basement were I was confined to an old luggage trunk.
I spent my days longing for Tim to come and steal me back and take me to Timsland to be properly celebrated.
Days turned into months and I was convinced I was abandoned or perhaps exiled by the angry Adult.
I had given up all hope as my days of glory were far gone.
That was until the Adult came to collect me and fill my belly with cold, crisp, clean water.