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If only I would have been aborted

I recall an argument I had with my mom back when I was maybe 10 or so, about my refusing to wear t-shirts with slogans or pictures emblazoned on them. I remember saying how stupid it was that kids should want to be human billboards for things that cost them. Fast-forward 20 years or so and there I was being asked by Gary Rodrigue to leave a media blog which he owned and I played managing editor for, over my consistently referring to press releases as unpaid adverts, which publishers strangely objected to. Unlike anyone I’ve ever personally known in my life I honestly have never changed who I am, just that I had to acquire the means and methods for relating what passed for my convictions and principles. I sure as shit did not learn it from my parents. I never joined any cliques in school for similar reasons, never really had a circle of friends in my life, because what unites anybody in this country is shared opposition to a given matter. Against the kids who dressed different, against the other sports team or the competing label or the unfathomable foreigner. On some level I was always aware of this, even long before I was old enough to give explicit voice to the concern of no division seeing what explicitly goes unchallenged by all divisions. I always knew deep down inside that what makes life a living hell is not the bad guys, not the Russians or the blacks or the Satanists or any other variety of “different from me” but the political parties, the church doctrines and the industries people grant control over their lives to. I have never in my life voted Democrat or Republican, because I represent myself just fine. I have stayed busy all my days and nights repairing the damages caused by diverse persons who do not want to be on the same page with the bad guys, whoever the bad guys are declared to be in accordance with said political parties, religious doctrines or promises of industry, because those who view themselves as the good guys eternally lack the wherewithal for anything but the active avoidance of personal responsibility, the active avoidance of self-sacrifice and the active avoidance of critical thinking.

Agreeing with someone is not the litmus test for whether or not they need your help.

Every TV show you sit through is time spent not informing yourself, not strengthening yourself. And most egregiously, it is time spent not helping others. What defines people in the USA is how, without exception by my experiences, they would much rather help themselves, no cost to others too high, than better themselves, or better the lives of anyone around them. Maybe if they were all made blind and deaf to match their tasteless voids, rendered wholly incapable of fetishing what they see in the mirror, merits might mean something. Instead, it’s the culture of vicarious living, generous with scapegoats and endless pantomimes where walking the walk and talking the talk somehow makes up for the lack of anything worth sharing.

I won’t take credit or blame for what others say and do, and I won’t allow others to take blame or credit for what I say and do. Influencers and thought-leaders are convenient workarounds for others to never soberly declare that of themselves. Which sounds awfully arrogant on my part, but then, this allows me room to guarantee that the problems I manifest and the problems which I contribute to are only for myself. I’m not suggesting that I am better than any of you, because I am not competing, but I can unclog a toilet like you would not believe. And I have never charged for it, even when I’ve no money for food. For my natural and long-lived inability to lie, cheat or steal I am not a good guy by the standards of this society, considering who reaps rewards. However I am the bad guy not at all interested in you or yours. Unless you need me and mine to fill the void of dire assistance denied you by your political parties, religious doctrines or industry of “choice”. Or your fucking facebook friends.

That is non serviam by my moral code, to the end of this life. Which is decidedly too fucking short to be entertained.