RibbleRabble

The total cost of the Iraq War has now exceeded $845 billion dollars. It occurs to me that if we are willing to spend $845 billion dollars and thousands of lives, for much less we could have solved the problem without bloodshed.

Before the start of the war (when Saddam was still alive), we could have simply bribed him to do whatever we wanted. In fact, we could have sent him yearly checks for $1 billion dollars and he'd have recorded 2girls1cup if we asked him to. No, he'd have even played the part of the cup. More importantly, it would have only cost us, at maximum, around $35 billion dollars to keep it up for the worst-case duration of his natural life (he was 65ish before the war). Since he was a dictator, and since he had a natural power over his people, we could have simply made the stipulation that the only way he can keep receiving the money is if truly made steps to convert the nation to a democracy, and, obviously, it would be important to allow us free access to the country for inspections.

It's a pretty simple idea, and, it would have worked. Think of it: no bloodshed, no terrorism, no economic collapse, and, most importantly, $0.99/gallon gas. Best of all, it'd only be 35 easy payments of $1 billion a year (and inflation would be on our side). Instead, we've got this debacle, which has cost us 5 easy payments of $169 billion dollars a year.

I'm just trying to plan for next time.

Cheers.

I was recently skimming over the Wikipedia article on Scientology controversies and came across a particularly interesting bit of text:

The Church maintains strict control over the use of its symbols, names and religious texts. It holds copyright and trademark ownership over its cross and has taken legal action against individuals and organizations who have quoted short paragraphs of Scientology texts in print or on Web sites, in some cases asserting their scriptures constitute "trade secrets." Individuals or groups who practice Scientology without affiliation with the Church have been sued for violation of copyright and trademark law.

I thought this was kind of interesting. Arguably, the point of copyright law is to protect businesses (including sole proprietorships) from other businesses trying to make pure profit off of the former. That is, copyright law is there so that should Joe Schmoe want to create a book called Joe Schmoe's Guide to Modern Cults, another profiteer by the name of Jane Doe couldn't come along and copy, verbatim, Joe's Guide to Modern Cults and claim it as her own work while making pure profit.

So, when I see Scientology trying to delve into laws made to protect businesses, a red flag is raised in my head: they're a church— not a business. By definition, they're technically a 501(c)(3) non-profit religious organization. Therefore, I have but one question: why should they be covered by copyright law if the fundamental goal of the organization, legally, is not to turn a profit, but instead to benefit mankind? More importantly, is it valid to use patent/trademark law in matters of religion to begin with?

Above all, if the legal protections designed to protect profit-oriented activities of businesses and individuals are allowed to be applied to churches, then how, exactly, could you even legally distinguish a religion from a business? This one's fairly intriguing, because if the only method for doing so are the tax reporting and exemption statuses delegated by the IRS/states, then we have, in effect, created the largest loophole to a tax code ever known by man. Not only is a religious organization tax-exempt, but unlike every other non-profit organization, it also does not have to report its income to the IRS. Therefore, if religious organizations like Scientology are afforded the same luxury protections as businesses, they are essentially tax-free/tax-reporting-free businesses.

Now, can you imagine how profitable (and dangerous) a business would be if: it never had to pay taxes; it never had to tell the IRS where it's getting its money from; it never had to tell the IRS how it's spending its money; and, it could sue anyone who said anything bad about them? Yikes.

If religious organizations are allowed to be covered by copyright law, and they're allowed to trademark their religion's name, and, on top of that, they can actively bring suit against people who use the name when the religion doesn't want them to, then they are demonstrating business behavior. Essentially, they sue in order to "protect" the corporate image of their "brand name." That makes them even more indistinguishable from businesses. Using the power of the government, they can proactively suppress political dissent, preying directly upon the financial disparity between them, a multi-million dollar organization, and their target, a multi-hundred dollar citizen.

I think that it's time that as a society we sit down and agree of one phrase that says succinctly the following:

Trust me, I know exactly what I want, or at least have a good idea, and judging by the way this is going, don't ask why, don't take it personally, but you and I would never work out. It's not you, and it's not me— it's the fact that if we were both in the same equation, it would perpetually be imbalanced, and we would waste a year of our lives trying to rebalance it, only to fail miserably. You're nice, but you've got issues with which simply I won't be able to reconcile. There's someone out there for you, but it's not me. Sorry. You might be a good friend, but it would never be more than that. Ever.

Simple as that. Just one phrase. It needs to be unambiguous and simple to recognize. Perhaps "Zappy the clownbattery" would work. It just sucks when someone tries to talk to you, and makes really shitty small talk to the point where you know, definitely, that the person is either too stupid or too simplistic to ever be able to tolerate for more than 30 minutes— much less date. On top of that, you know with certainty that they'd never be able to tolerate you. So, the only way to convey that is to invoke the Zappy clause.

And, it sucks, because people take it personally and wonder how they can "change" and whatnot, when in all reality they can't. Even if there were some magic personality changing device, it's unlikely that it would have any effect on the already-formed opinions by one person on another.

Anyway, we just need to leave it at that. Someone says hi, someone else detects that you might be hitting on them by the sharp pain in their stomach and the wincing of their eye. Subsequently, they say "Zappy the clownbattery," and then it's mutually understood that that's as far as it goes. No awkward pause or silence; no backstabbing; just pure and simple. Think of all of the broken hearts that would be prevented.

Cheers. :P

It sucks being different. I've tried to be the same, and every time I've tried to fit in, somehow I fuck it up. In all reality, I think I'm destined to stand outside of the candy shop for the rest of my life, looking in and wishing that had fates been better, I, too, would be able to sip from the nectars that others are free to take delight in eating— bitter and sweet treats alike.

I blame myself for trying to fake it. Every day I try to fit in by making jokes and trying to keep people happy so as to mask the abject dejection that I can't but feel when I look at the nasty shit that makes the cogs of society spin. When I find something I can latch on to— hold like a blanket to distract me from that horrible reminder— I get caught up in it, thinking somehow... somehow if I can just do this one thing maybe I'll get closer to healing it all. At least I'd be able to justify it as helping someone, somewhere to live a better life.

So I tried to fake it. I should have never tried to be an actor— I should have never emerged from my backstage home to try to be something I'm not.

It's lonely working behind the scenes. It's a lonely, thankless job that'll net you, at best, a few words in a forgettable program. I guess I don't really have a choice, though. I mean, in the end, I'll always botch something when I'm on-stage. I'll forget a date, miss a cue, break character, or somehow make others remember that I'm not the person they expect me to be, and instead of being what they need, I'll just be some random person. ... and then it all hits me again. Faced with rejection from my facade, I lose grasp of my distractor, and all of the things I've tried to forget about the world come rushing back to mind, and I cry. Withdrawing from the light, I never want to set foot in it again.

... but give me the option to be myself— to return backstage where I truly can make magic and none will be the wiser— and I'm able to once again quiet the din of the world.

So I guess I'll just be alone. That's probably why, when you hear about all of the people like me in history, they pretty much all had dysfunctional relationships with society. I understand that now, and I'm increasingly coming to terms with that.

I long so much for someone to love— truly love— who actually does understand me. However, like my predecessors, I don't really know if that's ever going to happen. Nobody falls in love with guys like me. They fall in love with actors— they fall in love with guys pretending to be guys like me, because guys like me, despite our shitty attempts at acting when we force ourselves to do so, are too shy to approach the audience. We prefer, instead, to sit from afar and watch others enjoying the show we know in and out— almost wishing that we didn't know the next punchline by heart, so that we, too, could hinge on it and, once delivered, finally sigh laughter like everyone else.

I'm not sure where to go from here. You'd think the choice would be simple: do what's in your heart, right? Well, what's in my heart right now is withdrawal— giving up— living a life of solitude. Otherwise, I'm probably just going to continue to fuck up attempts at trying to be someone I'm not in hopes that I might finally fool someone into a meaningful relationship that is, essentially, built on a meaningless foundation. I always figured that the latter was the only real option, because it seemed like the most practical compromise between the two extremes: on one extreme, being myself would denote that I would spend relatively little time in the public eye and would thus minimize the chances of finding love; on the other extreme, not being myself would denote that I would spend proportionately greater time in the public eye and would thus maximize the chances of finding love, yet that love would be fundamentally built on a persona of someone I'm not.

So I'm fucked either way. The problem is that in the latter condition— playing the game by acting the role, it's clear that I might accidentally cause hurt to another person. That doesn't sit well with me. I can't justify even temporarily hurting someone if I can at all control it, and pretending to be someone I'm not in order to find love is potentially emotionally dangerous for those that cross my path; so, by logical deduction, I think I'll just skip out on it all together. I'd rather feel miserable for the rest of my life than make someone else feel the same way.

Yeah, it's a raw deal. I suppose that's the "perk" of being me. By the way, if you're one of the few out there who truly is a good person, let no one ever tell you that knowledge is power. It's not. It's only powerful for those that abuse it. On the kind person, however, it has crippling effect of imparting... nothing. No, worse than nothing. It takes away all that was once unknown in the world and replaces it with all of the correct answers— almost none of which are the ones you had desperately longed for.

Trust me, it'll be much easier for you at the end of your life to go, "oh wow, everything I know is wrong" than to realize it early in life. At least when you're in a nursing home you can blame it on being young and stupid, and you'll be free to bask in hindsight.

I'm living proof that no old person should ever be cursed with being young again. It's cruel and unusual punishment, and it's a trap to assume that being "young'n'sexy" or some other delusion will ever be worth it. You'll feel emptier than you've ever felt in your entire life, and since you've likely already experienced love, you'll quickly remember that sex is just plain boring without it. But, it'll be too late. You'll start to wonder if you'll ever be able to find the love you once had, and soon you'll be back where you started— dying in a nursing home, relieved that you don't have to worry about it any more.

... and I'll envy you.

Until then, you'll find me behind the curtain. Heh, actually, I lie— you'll probably find me perpetually behind you (since that's where the lighting console probably is), wearing all black while staring at the back of your head, but saying that I'll always be staring at the back of your head while wearing all black sounds wayyyy too spooky, so if it helps, you can instead continue to imagine that I'm just behind the curtain. :P

I was browsing through the USPS Postal Money Order Security Features reference card thinggy and realized that it was lacking in a few of the more intricate features. So, I figured I'd detail the more extended list here for all who are security freaks like me. Plus, it always helps to not get screwed out of money :P.