Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Taboo Topic and a Tattoo, too


            Let’s just jump right into this opinionated and brutal mess with a quick show of hands. Who here is sick of hearing and seeing people gripe about the political parties or candidates? Put your hand down: I can’t see you(as far as you know), but I appreciate the honesty. I’ve personally had all I can stand of it, and I will begin taking measures to reduce my exposure. Whether that means blocking the feed of those that think their political views are so brilliant that they must be shared via social network, or simply walking away from any conversation that suffers the misfortune to turn down that bleak path of ignorance and bigotry, I will not tolerate it.

            Put simply: anyone who feels that our current situation is the fault of (Democrats/ Republicans) or (Bush/Obama/Clinton/The Dread Pirate Roberts) is a complete and utter idiot. I don’t care how intelligent you are; you are an idiot if you can’t see past the classist system that is the real reason why nothing constructive occurs in the capitol. When the right hand and the left hand are preoccupied trying to sever each other, what is left to do the heavy lifting that these repairs require?

             This party brainwashing is the discrimination of our generation, and someone needs to confront this modern bigotry. There have always been political divisions, but this is ridiculous. Terms like “liberal” and “conservative” are flung around with contempt in the same tone that racial slurs are uttered by the hateful and close-minded. I have a news flash for everyone that believes their party is the salvation: you’re a fucking moron.

            Yes, I just dropped the big bad F-word into a civil observation of what is wrong with our political system. And it completely destroyed my credibility, transforming this from an intelligent commentary to a vulgar rant. That crass vulgarity is exactly the same as what comes across when men and women start slinging political slurs because the other side has different views.

            In all honesty, what do you expect? The political machine is powered by human nature, and people are going to vote and advocate in their own best interests. The corporate giants, few as they are, see no purpose in lifting the masses of the working class. Those who have money want to keep it, at all costs. Those who don’t have financial resources want those who do to have accountability. Everyone wants the political system to serve them personally, and that goal became impossible once the population exceeded two. So instead of serving the self-centered focus on man, politicians have to lie. They lie to everyone, to convince as many people as possible that their self-absorbed needs are being met. It’s the way the system works; and it’s our fault as much as theirs. If the people could handle the brutal truth then the lies wouldn’t be necessary.

            The reason for the decline in the economy in a nutshell, as I see it, is as follows. The banks made it too easy to buy a house, and we spent money we didn’t have. Whether you want to blame the banks for offering the candy or the people for yielding to the temptation – the true culprit comes to greed across the board. The home buyers should have known better, sure, and most of them probably did. But who among us is strong enough to say no when being offered the American dream on a platter? Lack of restraint on both parts, in my opinion, brought the housing crisis upon us. Jobs were sent overseas because it was cheaper. We did what is in our human nature – we looked out for our own personal best interests and not at the big picture. As long as the East will supply workers for less than what hiring an American will cost, we will continue to outsource jobs. This is also why you’ll never hear of Congress offering to cut their own financial resources to accommodate the budget: they’re too busy looking out for themselves.

            The tl;dr version of this since I’m getting restless and must be mobile soon: the true culprit of this situation is human nature and salvation is impossible until we collectively pull our heads out long enough to see the problem instead of name calling and finger pointing.

Oh, and I got a new tattoo last night. It's the second part of a three-piece chest theme I'm working on.

I had more I wanted to talk about, eventually tying the flaws with the political system into the problem with society itself (basically everyone’s too scared to take responsibility for their actions, thoughts and opinions, which leads to deceit and false representation born of cowardice), but I’d rather be outside now. 

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Good Riddance


Bad language is bad.

            “Da flying fuck just happened?” Salem demanded incredulously, his voice echoing mockingly within his helmet. The drunkard snatched off the burn scarred armament and flung it down in agitated confusion.

            “Where the hell are we?” Donut added, peering around the expanse of immaculate ivory surrounding them. All around them only whiteness could be seen, unrevealing and unforgiving on the eyes with the intensity of its brightness.

            “Maybe Rani is trying to make some racial statement.” Aethon’s statement lacked conviction, but he managed to force the words through the suffocating constriction of his throat. He alone refused to look around at the monotone scenery. He alone held suspicions about their new locality and why they were there.

            “No way, man, Ray can’t resist laughing at his own jokes.” Ara contributed dryly, her bored gaze sweeping across the emptiness as if expecting to find some clue hidden within the blank canvas. Her search was rewarded with the sight of a form laying in the distance. It was little more than a shadow on what passed as a floor in this bizarre unblemished landscape, but she knew the form of a prone body when she saw one. “Let’s wake him up and ask him. I must’ve kept him up too late last night if he’s sleeping on the job.”

            “Wait –“ Aethon got no further then the single syllable when Blue appeared in front of Ara, obscuring the shape from the crimson vixen’s view. The Canadian shook her head somberly.

            “It’s Pinky. She’s in bad shape.”

            “Well that’s just bloody dandy. Which one of us did Rani-boy give the healing mogo?”
           
            “None of us, yet. Unless he had it.” Donut answered, peering around Blue to the immobile form in the distance.

            “We’ll have to figure out something else, then. If we’re here, then that means Ray’s not coming back.” Aethon hesitated and had to inhale deeply to steady himself before continuing. “It’s up to us to find a way out of the abyss. His story is over.”

            “But that means…no way. That bastard is too crazy to die.” Wide-eyed with denial, Donut kept shaking his head as if emphasizing every word and supporting his own argument.

            “He can’t be gone. That cheeky little fuck survived too many women to be offed by some piddly storybook dragon. It’ll be Pinky or Ara that do the arse in.”

            “What do we do now? He held the team together; he was the closest thing we had to a leader.” Blue’s tone was soft and sad, leaden with the weight of volumes unsaid. It was so much easier to look ahead when only despair lay behind.

            “We get him back. This story is about us, not some shitty plagiarized storylines and hackneyed writing.  If he can turn into a goddamn gargoyle and give Steven the power to throw destructo-disc some werewolves then we can fucking toggle god mode on and bring him back.” Shemo attempted to support Ara's determined declaration with a smile, but the effort was too much for her and she lowered her head in continue silence. There were no words for her for situations like this.

            “The twah, er, Ara is right. Now run along and check the kitchens for him, lass, the men and Blue will bring back your precious side-action-number-five.” Leave it to Salem to drink away his woes, it was a wonder he managed to remain on his feet as unsteady as his stance was while he downed the contents of flask after flask in an attempt to drown the reality of the situation.

            “Fuck you.” Ara replied automatically, staring down the others as if challenging them to argue with her proposal.

            “Enough. If we’re going to do this we need to move fast. First we find a way to heal Pinky; maybe she can tell us what happened. Then we try to undo it. But don’t get your hopes up. We’re not sure this will work.” And with that simple mini-speech, Aethon stepped into the role of leader of the ragtag group.

            The stakes were higher than ever. The element that managed to simultaneously hold them together and stir them up was gone and their greatest challenge would be getting him back.