I’m a Human Being God Damn It! MY LIFE HAS VALUE! [Network-76]

Sometimes this body can’t take the stress of it all. The many and various aches, pains, and twinges all slowly slide to the surface of the conscious, pushing their way past the carefully thought up topics and tangents to hover somewhere towards the front, not quite at the window, but complaining loud enough that the deaf man at the back of the line can hear them. Still, once the mind accepts that the pain is there, it simply ignores it like some humbum that has asked for change one time too many and made a show of it after being rejected. Like the bum, the pain fades away, off in search of easier marks, or biding its time, waiting until the perfect moment.

I often find myself unhappy with the amount of writing I put out when I’m in this state. One, because I don’t generally enjoy being exhausted, sober, aware of my inner organs, and maddeningly awake mentally. Physically, the body responds like an old pick-up with no power steering, the gears out of sync and the engine running hot. It’ll get you there, but it’ll be one shitty ride. I suppose being in this state does help in one way. I can focus my thoughts much better than if I were well rested. This, I suppose, is probably some medical condition that will inevitably end in my ‘need’ for some medication that they have specifically for this. I’ll opt for the ability to think, and the opportunity to avoid yet another substance I can get addicted to. As if nicotine isn’t enough…

Lately there’s been some troubling moments in the Land of the Law. Apparently the Right to say ‘NO’ to (illegal) unwarranted entry and search has been VOTED against by a group of people that I’m sure have never in their lives had to worry about a group of trigger happy, testosterone freebasing, S.W.A.T team members bursting into your house if an officer “Smells marijuana smoke, or hears sounds that suggest the imbibing of which is going on”. Now, call me a paranoid bastard, but DIDN’T I FUCKING WARN YOU ALL? DIDN’T 1984?! Haven’t you been told from everyone with half a brain it was coming? Well now is the fucking time to wake the hell up and DO something before it’s too late. Hell it may already be too late. And then what? What are you going to do when they can burst in, any god damn time they wish, whopping and bopping anyone who so much as questions their Rights to do such a thing.

Well, the first people to blame would be YOURSELVES. Don’t you realize that the people you put in office have done this. The people you have hired to PROTECT you, have done this. BUT YOU… YOU have given them the ability and fucking PERMISSION to do so… And god damn it I’d shove my foot, after stepping in as much shit as I could, down your fucking throat if I found you’d voted for this shit. This is NOT acceptable by any standards. You think just because you live in one of your cookie cutter neighborhoods, with the Housing Association telling you how high your flag pole can be, or when it’s appropriate to water your damn lawn.

It sickens me. While I am indeed proud and happy that I am an American, if THIS is what this means, then kick me right the fuck out. I’ll go to Canada. I don’t want to BE the soon the be upper-upper-Lower Class. I WANT TO BE WHO AND WHAT THE FUCK I AM. Your god, sent us to DESTROY. So, in my reckoning of everything, it’s about fucking time to RISE UP, and take back the country that is going down the shitter faster than the Titanic on an Obese Couple’s Cruise. Perhaps it’s me… Maybe I really AM the one who’s wrong. If so, may whatever gods that be, Strike you down. Because I plan to stick around and at least be a thorn in the side of The Powers That DECIDE.

Can’t you hear it? That’s the sound of the American Dream, pissing itself in its sleep. It’s thrashing around on it’s plastic sheet and will wake up shortly, smelling strongly of urine and last night’s pints, completely hung over, wishing that it didn’t have to dream for itself any longer. Can it really be that hard to have everyone WANT and WORK for a goal together? Why must we split, and segregate, and isolate ourselves and each other? What would being a UNITED country, no… WORLD harm? Besides of course, the wallets of those who REALLY know what’s going on? Besides those who play the geo-politcal game like it’s a game of fucking Connect Four, and have had at least three and a half turns more than you do before you start? Would it harm US? Would it harm the WORLD? No. It would bring us together. But no…. They can’t have that. They cannot allow us to truly mobilize.

Why do you think that there’s ‘Kill-Switches’ on many apps and programs and cell phones? Why do you suppose that there’s so many unconstitutional laws on the books? Why do you suppose they are ass-raping the words and wisdom of our forefathers without so much as a reach around? I’ll tell you. Profit. You are nothing more than a number. Hell, look at your social security card. The nine digits that you see before you tell ALL they really want to know about you. All they want are YOUR numbers boosting THEIR numbers, with no regard to the fact that the numbers are human lives. All they ever wanted from you was your finger prints, your number, and your money. That’s all. A small price to pay, right?

I’ll avoid the obvious answer for that. Because let’s face it, once you’re in, you’re in for fucking Life. That means, every time a police officer runs your ID, he sees more about you than you even know about yourself. When you go to do anything, you are THERE. And that’s wrong. Many of the people I see going to jail every day are simple Marijuana offenders, many of the first timers. What this says to me, is that they see an end to their tyranny and they are working as fast as those pudgy little number crunching fingers can work, to get as many people in the System as possible, before they can’t anymore. This is a petty and pathetic crime, that they enforce, not because it’s for the ‘greater good’, but because it BENEFITS them to continue this.

And…? You let them… You fucking… LET…. THEM… All the anger you see, all the pain you may feel, it’s real. I am whole heartedly AGAINST the fall of THE PEOPLE. I say bring the power back. Let us stand, and peacefully, take back control from these childish men and their wars. Let us, for once, live by our Pledge. Does what I say not have merit? Is it NOT the Truth? Tell me where I am wrong I will accept, admit to, and correct my mistake. Before I of course give you the finger and tell you ‘Fuck off, in the name of Gawd Awlmighty’. Because let’s face it. I don’t vote. I have contributed to this problem by NOT contributing. I know this. I see this. But I don’t vote for a reason. I just don’t see anyone WORTH voting for. All the politicians are TOO far in the Politician circle, and me? Well, I’m way outside the fucking box. I’m somewhere that only my voice can be heard. If I tried to change things physically? I’d get arrested for one law or another. I cannot act alone. It doesn’t work anymore.

This is the Age of Communication. You are a people addicted to your social networking, and yet you still act as if you have something to hide. What do you (most of you) hide that you haven’t at one time, admitted to someone online? Or one of those stupid voluntary information Chain letters? Fuck me running with a pitchfork sideways, I’m sick and fucking tired of all the noise but no action. For fucks sake… I WRITE. THAT is what I DO. I don’t make the laws, I don’t enforce them… I follow them and bend them as MUCH as I fucking can. So where will it end? Facebook is the BEST spy program out there. You see everyone’s connections, their pictures, their work, sex, religion, ideas, likes, dislikes, games, blah, blah, fucking blah. Don’t you get it? YOU ARE ALREADY IN THE SYSTEM.

You’re already in the fucking system…

Wake up… Log OUT… Reach back into the physical world! I know that you fell to the net because it was a world that was fresh, new, untouched… A place that you could change with a few clicks and a couple cute pictures. A place that became YOUR world. But THIS digital Arcadia is tied very closely to the Real world. We need you… WE, the WORLD, need you to look up from your fucking Farmville and open your goddamn eyes. I can’t keep screaming it from the rooftops… I’ll give up long before anyone listens, end up cutting it into myself, and throwing myself over the side to get any attention on the matter. Is that what has to happen? Is it really necessary for one more to die before anyone takes heed?

Where do you WANT to be in ten years? Free? Or in the Matrix? Sure… The Matrix has all the bells and whistles, but sooner or later, power changes hands, and when that happens, everyone gets unhooked. How’s miss Polly-16 years old-and fucking STUPID going to survive if something bad actually happens? What about all the homeless veterans? These men and women fought and DIED for you. Sure, the blood still pumps in their veins, but they are dead… I can see it in their eyes when they ask for change so they can get a beer to go to sleep on a cold night. They aren’t wanting the beer… They want the peace that rests in the bottom of the bottle… The Illusion of Warmth… Of happiness.

Is that what you really want? By now I’m addressing ALL of you. Because honestly… I’m tired… I want to go to sleep and just not wake up. I’m tired of waving the big ‘RIGHT FUCKING HERE’ sign to the blind… I’m tired of all the drooling, drug fed, illiterate children I meet online and in real life. I’m fucking tired of waking up only to find there’s more bad news on the television. I’m fucking tired of turning around after spotting some hope on the horizon, only to find that it’s been taken out by some other Group like the Tea-baggers. What’s it going to take to wake you fuckers up?

-sighs-

I could go on forever couldn’t I?

And it wouldn’t change a thing….

Not unless you stopped listening to what I said… and started following your heart. It beats… Follow the rhythm. It gets stronger the closer you work with others… The more hearts that beat together begin to sound as one, the thrum of LIFE in the minds and bodies of the Willing. Don’t wait for the future generations to clean this up… Clean up your own fucking messes. You are NOT children anymore, at least not physically… Fucking act like it. The world should no longer be your sandbox and I’m tired of playing in it. Stop trying to make the biggest sand castle while you attempt to step on everyone else’s, otherwise, I’ll find a fucking way to back a cement truck up to it.

The very same one that paved the road to Hell.

Scarab Susanti

As It Turns

Apparently, I’m not going to be able to do very much as far as T.E.R goes until I can get another computer. (Not to mention net, but that will follow and I’ll still be doing articles, just won’t be able to upload them as I’d like. But, regardless of how slow the advancement is, it’s still advancement. -shrugs-

My life, as usual, has once more taken the opportunity to plunge me into chaos and drag me through the broken glass at the bottom. I’ve got some new stuff that I’ll be putting online soon, but for now, here is a reminder that things are going to get back on track soon.

~Scarab

Rumblings in the Darkness

Two weeks… That’s all it’s taken to finally shake loose that last itching doubt about most of my Life and really begin to set forward and begin the process of laying the foundation for the future. Two weeks of pain, pleasure, hardship, and confusion; ultimately breaking the mold and throwing the old stained bits of the past into the recycle bin to be later used for better purposes.

At this moment, it’s been too long since I was last able to sit and actually have a moment to put up a new post. I’ve been bouncing again, and most of it’s not been all that pleasant. Soon I’ll head back up to Tennessee once more to get things rolling once again and I have to admit, I’m fairly optimistic about it. Up until recently, I was fairly lost and put out by the state of my life, but that’s when I really realized the irony in that. It’s MY life. I’ve gone too long just letting it happen and there’s much to do with all the years I’ve let slip away.

So in essence, consider this the first post of the new T.E.R. Soon to be fixing everything, archiving the old posts, cleaning up the set up, and basically putting the various Article Series in their respective places. Here’s to hoping you all are doing well and that my future posts will find you when you’re hiding.

Til then, happy holidays and such things as memories will be made of.

~Scarab S.

Time to Pull a Phoenix – Final & Last Post

Greetings to the one or two people that actually read this sorely underused blog.
Today I decided to Phoenix The Entropy Report.

Basically, that means, I’m going to burn the whole damn thing and rebuild it from the ashes.  Stronger, harder hitting, more writers, and MORE content.  But most of all, I’m going to improve the people behind it.  Mainly, myself.

This year begins the first step in the attempt to get T.E.R into mainstream publication.

Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence for T.E.R and all it has been over the past year or more.

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Alright.

This IS the last post that I will put up here until such time that I have readied the next incarnation of T.E.R.

For those of you that have followed me and Jack, for those that have helped us, fear not.  You will get paid back what you have given.   I do not forget my debts.  It may take time, but everything I owe WILL BE PAID IN FULL.

So to all of you,

Thank you.

Regards and Adieu,

Cheshire aka Scarab

P.s: I’ll see you all again soon.

Letters to Hunter – #1

January creeps on timidly, the first few steps of the new year, anxiously testing the water, not fully commited.  The end of the last year forgotten and festering in the gutter along with a slew of used condoms, spent cigarette ends, and broken champagne bottles, we turn our attention to the future.  What will pass in these coming months Hunter?  What’s going to happen?  You missed a good Race last year.  We now have our first (mostly) black President (elect).  A groundbreaking step for our society, don’t you think?  It’s truly a shame that you missed it in person.  I’m sure word has gotten to you by now though, wherever you are.

If I ever leave this world alive…

“The Doctor is Dead.” says a voice in my head.  “Dead, gone, shot from a cannon…  His memory has already started to fade from the world, back to the place where all ideas and dreams come from.”

“Then he’s not dead, or gone, or even forgotten…  Just recycled.”  I reply.

“You and your hippie shit…”  It says.  “Fading back into the darkness of my thoughts.

DAMN!  DAMN! SHIT! FUCK! BOB SAGET GAH!  WHY ARE THERE NOT ENOUGH CURSE WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE RAGE AND ANNOYANCE THAT I FEEL?!

Let’s face it Hunter, I’m getting no younger.  The world is slowly passing me by, running like hell whenever I turn my back, like some fucked up version of Red Rover that has no end and the losers die at the end.  I’m falling to pieces physically and mentally, and my writing isn’t all that great either.  Bah…  Sometimes it would indeed be nice to own an arsenal to exterminate (with extreme prejudice) all the pumpkins that I plan to grow in a large garden just for that purpose.  Or maybe I’ll choose watermelons.  Whatever…  The fact remains that there will be a Rapture for whatever I choose to grow.  And all the ones who have been saved will…  Well…  Be spared I guess…  Till I eat them…

Sorry to go on and ramble about like this.  I know I really have no direction with this transmission, but at least we’re not in Tucson.  Or Florida.

That fucking clock on the wall assaults me each second with a loud ‘TICK’ or ‘TOCK’…  The more I listen, the more it sounds like nothing BUT ‘TOCKS’.

Well, that didn’t come out quite like planned…  But I’m much too lazy right now to go back and change it.  If you don’t like the buttocks, deal with it.  I’m not here to pander to your flighty whims.  That’s what the midget in the leopard print speedo standing in the corner is for.  When I need something, I grab some of that ‘Liquid Gold’ (shortening), at work and douse him in it before grabbing him by the butt floss and flinging him down the yards and yards and yards of Slip ‘n Slide that I’ve rigged up around the house to ease in the movement.  There have been times that he’s hit some pretty steep speeds.  He wants a helmet, but I can’t allow him to for insurance reasons.

Just last week our neighbor’s dog (A stomping dog) ) ((Chiuhauha)) decided it was going to take a pleasant shit on our front door step.  With a splash of the Liquid Gold and a few test swings I was ready.  So a few hours later, the dog is wandering idly in the front yard, completely unaware of the End of the World that slowly creeps up from behind.  Wat (pronounced “what”), clad in only his leopard print speedo and a HUGE nerf bat, neared the beast and waited for it’s attention to be taken.  I saw my moment and knocked on our window, causing the little bastard to turn my way.  Faster than I could react, Wat roared and pounced, slamming the soft foam bat into the ankle biter, knocking it unconcious.  Brave and noble Wat…

It took only minutes for the dog to wake back up.  It looked at me and growled, whined, and pissed, trying to escape the clutches of Wat.

“Alright you little bastard, time for revenge.”  I said, taking the dog.  I held the dog firmly by the scruff and wandered around the yard until I found a fresh pile, recently laid by another of the neighborhood strays.  “And this…  Is why you don’t fuck with someone who owns a midget.

Screaming ‘Bad Dog’ at the top of my lungs, I rubbed the dog through it, making sure to coat thoroughly.  A few seconds later, I heard a door open behind me, and standing there looking deeply disturbed was the dog’s owner.  They were speechless as we locked eyes and tried to push the others buttons.  I stood up, holding the very shitty dog in a gloved hand by the scruff of the neck, and walked over to the owner.

“Is this your dog?”

They nodded.

“Good.  I’ve just put it through obedience school.  If it ever shits on my front step or in the yard again, I swear to you on the cumstained sheets of Jerry Falwell’s mother, I will eat your dog and shit on YOUR front step.  Got it?”

Another nod.
“Good.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go feed the midget and change his speedo.”

I returned to my kingdom victorious.

Well Hunter, I’ve got to get going.  Work in a few hours, y’know?

At any rate, I’ll write again when the time allows me to.

Regards and candle smoke,

Scarab