I had a dream this morning. As I've said before, it's pretty uncommon for me to remember my dreams. I don't think I've remembered one since the last one. Okay, THAT made sense. Since the last one I blogged about, back in freaking I dunno, lemme look it up. November. Maybe it's because I don't normally go to bed until I'm actually tired. Or maybe it's because my definition of "tired" is "if I don't go to bed NAO Pattie's gonna find me passed out at my computer or on the crapper. Again." Maybe I need to look at that. And maybe I'm rambling.

The dream. That's right. For whatever reason I dreamed I was back at Bluffton. Trigger and Hoch were there, even though it was my senior year. Found my room and started talking to the new roomies and the people popping in and out, none of whom I recognized. The thing I found remarkable was how easily I was talking to everybody, that's never been my strong suit. So why this dream now? Some possibilities:

* I thoroughly enjoyed my time at Bluffton. Who wouldn't want to dream about it?

* As of February 15, my student loans were paid in full. OH GOD YES. Now I can think about Bluffton without also thinking "Jeez, I'm STILL paying them?"

* My mom's getting ready to redo some rooms at her house, which means I'm going to be cleaning my old room out (and probably cleaning out stuff here, since I'm sure I'll find stuff there I want to bring here). Preparation for a waking trip down memory lane?

* Long nights of pushing a dust mop and cleaning crappers allow for copious amounts of introspection, and occasionally the topic turns to where my life has been -- and why -- and where I want it to go. One of the things I've realized is that I need to readjust how much it matters what certain people think, say and do. Let it reflect on what kind of person they are, then let it go. Easier said than done, maybe, but hey. Maybe a reaction to introspection?

* I've also realized that I really want to reconnect with Jon, one of my friends from Bluffton and one of the few I've spoken to since. (His wedding was where I met Pattie.) He's far from perfect, sure, but show me someone who isn't.

* Speaking of weddings, Rachael's is in a few weeks. The last time I was at a non-family wedding where I was the one who first knew the couple was, in fact, back when I was at Bluffton. Maybe that one's a stretch, but hey, my major was chemistry, not dream analysis.

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.



Repost this if you think homophobia is wrong.

For some, it's schedules and PDAs. For others, it's the five-year plan. Others still count on anything from predestiny to fortune-tellers, but it all boils down to the same thing -- most people crave some sense of predictability in their lives.

I've always been more content to play it by ear. That's not to say I actively avoid structure, or that I never make plans, I'm just usually happier letting life happen than trying to hammer it into shape. I suppose that makes me some sort of slacker.

Occasionally, someone asks what I'll do with my life. What do most people do with their lives? Oh wow, you cranked out your TCS reports on time for thirty years. Way to go you. Why not be honest, and just ask me how I plan to make more money? That's really all most people work for -- money and a break from the monotony of sitting home all day. And I've never had trouble entertaining myself.

Of course, from a survivability standpoint I really should be making more money, but that's not exactly the issue. Or rather, it's exactly the issue, and people just like to beat around the bush.

So I've finally got a girlfriend. (I'm almost 29, it shouldn't feel weird saying that.) I've known Pattie for eight years now, and just a few months ago -- which seems like forever and yesterday at the same time -- I really started having feelings for her. So I gathered up the nerve, came over one day before Mike got home, and proceeded to tie myself to her bed. Being tickled when you can't get away from it is a completely different experience. And so is being asked what the hell you were thinking. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I suppose that's kinda what's got me thinking about this. She said Mike asked when the wedding was, and while he was obviously joking (or at least, he'd better have been), it brings up a point -- someday I might not be the only one relying on me. I may not like planning, but I suppose it's time to start.

Hmm...maybe I'm not a slacker so much as a late bloomer.

The year is 23XX, and the age of transporter technology is upon us. You're broken down into your constituent atoms as a computer reads all the patterns, and recreated from a particle bank on the other end. Society has chosen to ignore the minority who say that the person on the other end isn't really you, and as other modes of transportation decline anyone not independently wealthy who refuses to use transporters winds up in grinding poverty.

So you and your family live in Barbados (nice!) and you've got a meeting in Podunk, Alaska (because, hey, not everyone can live in Barbados, even in 23XX). After an incredibly long delay, you step onto the transporter beside yourself in anger, and step off in Podunk beside yourself -- well, literally. There's been a glitch in the system, a command got duplicated, and there's two exact copies of you, from DNA to dental work, where there once was only one. After agreeing with yourself that Windows Server 23XX is a piece of shit, and noticing that there's no one around to witness the error (it is Podunk, after all), you realize there's a deeper dilemma:

Which one is you?

Who gets your job? Who goes to the meeting? Who gets your wife and kids? Who gets the cottage in Barbados? Would splitting things up evenly be fair to your employer or your family? Do you just not tell anyone, and take turns between living and hiding? If you take turns, what happens if your twin decides not to return to hiding? If your twin commits a crime and you're arrested for it, how can you possibly get out of it?

Does either of you have a soul? Do both of you have souls? Do you share the original soul? If so, what if you choose different religions? What are the ramifications on the afterlife?

To think, there are those who would have had these men killed shortly after their convictions. Granted, these prisoners weren't actually on death row, but this man was, as I've posted before, and I have no doubts that the pro-execution crowd would quickly have put the four in California on death row given the chance (or even worse, in the case of Mr. Stoll).

Of course the sound-bite response is that the system is the problem and not the punishment. Put your money where your mouth is. If you truly believe the system is that bad, then join in on the call to halt the death penalty until the system is fixed. Otherwise, tell us why you think it's okay to continue executing innocents under a system you claim is flawed.

Why does Kwanzaa piss people off, when no one bats an eye at the Chinese New Year, St. Patrick's Day, Cinco de Mayo, or Oktoberfest?

Why I Support The Death Penalty
• No innocents are ever executed.
• It's an excellent deterrent.
• If it's good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for America.
• It reanimates the victims, who are then sent to an island in the south Pacific to eat ice cream with Ronald Reagan and giggle at how their loved ones think they're still dead.

God bless George W. Bush, the Butcher of Texas.

It's too bad the homosexual debates have fallen off since the elections, they're among my favorite sources of hypocrisy among messianic Jews er, my fellow Christians. Jesus never mentions it at all, no one knows what the heck Paul was talking about -- there were several Greek words for "homosexual," and he failed to use any of them ("man-bed"?) -- and Sodom was destroyed (at least in parable) for wanting to rape at all as opposed to who they wanted.

And then there's Leviticus.

Of course, Leviticus wasn't written for the average person in the first place, but for Jewish Levitical priests. Even so, the old testament was replaced by the new, not merely supplemented, so it's doubly inaccurate to quote. Compounding this further -- and the source of my amusement today -- is the way Leviticus is cherry-picked. We don't keep Saturdays holy (yes, Saturdays, not Sundays as altered by the Holy See), we don't consider menstruating women unclean (a subject apart from not trusting anything that bleeds for three-to-seven days and doesn't die), we largely tolerate tattoos (even if a lot of them are silly and shallow for something that permanent), and we eat shrimp. Glorious, succulent, cholesterol-laden shrimp.

GOD HATES SHRIMP.

A simple site, yet elegant in its parody. I laughed so hard I'm surprised I didn't wake up the neighbors. Ah, the things one finds in Fark discussion threads (props to BearToy).

Silly people and their "What if...?" game.

"What if I'd done this different in my life? What if I'd done that different in my life?"

Then you change everything from that point on, mongus. Might be better, might be worse. And you change who you are. I, for one, am happy enough with who I am that I wouldn't want to take the gamble.

People always think it's a cop-out when they want to play that game and I say I wouldn't change everything, but it's not. That's really how I feel.

And now, the Freudian slip: "everything" was supposed to be "anything." A very fitting typo, and so it stays.

So, finally got around to watching The Butterfly Effect, which is what got me thinking about this. Damn good movie, I dare say the best I've seen in years. It's funny, too, because you never even think about it being Ashton Kutcher, the guy who's nothing but comedy in every other project he touches. He should do drama (is that what you'd classify this?) more often. You also don't think about just how fekking hot Amy Smart is, which may be more incredible. Interesting ending, too. Definitely a must-watch, if you haven't already seen it. (It's old enough, I'm betting you have. I'm just slow.)

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I did not speak out
because I was not a communist.

When they came for the social democrats,
I did not speak out
because I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists
I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews
I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew;

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.
~Pastor Martin Niemöller

Without going into the morality of stem-cell research proper, one of the clarion calls of its supporters is that people don't have to make use of the treatment if they don't like it.

And yet, one finds case after case after case to suggest this is not true. Jehova's Witnesses who refuse blood transfusions for their kids, Scientologists who refuse prescriptions for their kids, parents of any faith (or no faith at all) who learn the side-effects of ritalin and decide their kids shouldn't take it, all lose legal custody of their children on a regular basis. Why wouldn't stem-cell therapies be the same?

So, what happens if stem-cell research starts producing results? Well, several states either have passed or are looking at laws regarding the ritalin problem, a sign that politicians at least know that pissing off large groups of parents is no way to stay in power. Most of that legislation is riddled with loopholes, though -- most of it is in this format: "Schools can't recommend ritalin, but they can ask for an evaluation by someone with no such restriction. Refusal to dispense ritalin may not be the sole reason for removal from school or custody, nudge nudge wink wink." Once the gov't sinks in its teeth, it does not like to let go. They might try the werewolf-in-sheep's-clothing technique with stem-cell therapies, but I don't know just how successful it would be.

"Won't somebody please think of the children!"

Another possibility, should the research produce results, is that a large block of voters will be motivated to vote hard-right in an effort to block the issue altogether, either right out of the box or after an unsuccessful werewolf-in-sheep's-clothing technique. You thought 2000 and 2004 were bitterly partisan, wait until you put kids in the mix. It could wind up being the largest single-issue vote of our time.

Possibility number three is the outlier, to be sure -- at least initially. Everyone on the left (myself included) speaks harshly about religious fundamentalism and evangelism, but nary a word is mentioned anout scientific fundamentalism and evangelism. Possibility number three is, quite simply, that both sides start recognizing where they're overzealous and start working toward compromise, even if they don't think the other side is doing what's best for their children. They stop forcing their views on others, whether those views are religious or scientific. One side gets access to controversial medical treatments for their families, the other side gets the controversial right to refuse medical treatments for their families. This likely won't happen quickly, since everyone's always so worried about everyone else's kids (heart in the right place, and all that), but at some point (hopefully) looking out for their own kids will become more important than looking out for everyone else's, and the compromise will happen.

Of course, between this divisive issue and others, there's also the possibility of secession and/or civil war, and given the partisan nature of our country at present I wouldn't be quick to say it's either more-or-less-likely or better-or-worse than compromise.

For some, the objection to stem-cell research is just as it seems -- they are actually so concerned about the zygotes that they don't think the research should be done at all. For many others, though -- maybe the majority? -- I would wager it's more an act of "nipping it in the bud," trying to ensure these treatments won't be forced on their families, as our society is so prone to do. And that the research would get much less static if we made some steps toward ensuring people aren't forced into it.

Just shredded my credit card, I was falling into the same trap of spending money I didn't have. Again. Not this time.

The revelation came from a completely unexpected source -- a Fark discussion of RFID. A technology I don't like, but that's besides the point. Well, no, I suppose it isn't... One of the pro-RFers made the comment that we were being tracked anyways, because we couldn't go without things like credit cards. That got me to thinking -- why can't we go without CCs? Heck, I did it involuntarily for a year and a half and I didn't croak. Aside from building credit for the eventual home-ownership bid (still a dream in the distance for me), why should we feel compelled to play the game? Not that you can fault these companies -- there's an insane demand for credit, and supply is only limited by their willingness to lend. And if they're not willing, someone else is, so it might as well be them making money, they'd be fools not to cash in -- this is why they're there. You don't see Visa porterhouse steaks and Discover Steak Sauce.

Nor would I fault the consumer. Like little girls bombarded from birth by cosmetics ads, you can't go out in public without seeing "Visa/MC/Discover/AmEx accepted here," nor open your mailbox without a credit offer. It's become ubiquitous, almost a badge of adulthood, the grown man or woman with no plastic is an anomaly. High schools are too busy teaching to the tests to bring in useful life skills like personal finance, and heaven forbid this teaching happen at home.

And so we have the game -- growing numbers of increasingly-clueless consumers demanding credit from companies that exist only to supply it.

I've decided I don't want to play the game.

Next day I have off, I'm going to the credit union to see about getting a loan to pay off my CCs. Assuming they'll give me one without a co-signer, I'll cancel them as soon as they're paid off (not a one worth keeping, AFAIC), and do some shopping around for the best one single solitary card to have. And not keep it in my wallet.

In semi-related news, I've changed just about all the links above my journal. Good stuff.

Found this a few months ago in a Fark thread, then proceeded to forget I had it. Was looking through some of the files I transferred to this computer, and it jumped back out at me. Good stuff.


-----------------------
A day in the life of Joe Republican. By John Gray, Cincinnati, Ohio
-----------------------
Joe gets up at 6:00am to prepare his morning coffee. He fills his pot full of good clean drinking water because some liberal fought for minimum water quality standards. He takes his daily medication with his first swallow of coffee. His medications are safe to take because some liberal fought to insure their safety and work as advertised.

All but $10.00 of his medications are paid for by his employers medical plan because some liberal union workers fought their employers for paid medical insurance, now Joe gets it too. He prepares his morning breakfast, bacon and eggs this day. Joes bacon is safe to eat because some liberal fought for laws to regulate the meat packing industry.

Joe takes his morning shower reaching for his shampoo; His bottle is properly labeled with every ingredient and the amount of its contents because some liberal fought for his right to know what he was putting on his body and how much it contained. Joe dresses, walks outside and takes a deep breath. The air he breathes is clean because some tree hugging liberal fought for laws to stop industries from polluting our air. He walks to the subway station for his government subsidized ride to work; it saves him considerable money in parking and transportation fees. You see, some liberal fought for affordable public transportation, which gives everyone the opportunity to be a contributor.

Joe begins his work day; he has a good job with excellent pay, medicals benefits, retirement, paid holidays and vacation because some liberal union members fought and died for these working standards. Joes employer pays these standards because Joes employer doesnt want his employees to call the union. If Joe is hurt on the job or becomes unemployed hell get a worker compensation or unemployment check because some Liberal didnt think he should lose his home because of his temporary misfortune.

Its noon time, Joe needs to make a Bank Deposit so he can pay some bills. Joes deposit is federally insured by the FSLIC because some liberal wanted to protect Joes money from unscrupulous bankers who ruined the banking system before the depression.

Joe has to pay his Fannie Mae underwritten Mortgage and his below market federal student loan because some stupid liberal decided that Joe and the government would be better off if he was educated and earned more money over his life-time.

Joe is home from work, he plans to visit his father this evening at his farm home in the country. He gets in his car for the drive to dads; his car is among the safest in the world because some liberal fought for car safety standards. He arrives at his boyhood home. He was the third generation to live in the house financed by Farmers Home Administration because bankers didnt want to make rural loans. The house didnt have electricity until some big government liberal stuck his nose where it didnt belong and demanded rural electrification. (Those rural Republicans would still be sitting in the dark!)

He is happy to see his dad who is now retired. His dad lives on Social Security and his union pension because some liberal made sure he could take care of himself so Joe wouldnt have to. After his visit with dad he gets back in his car for the ride home.

He turns on a radio talk show, the hosts keeps saying that liberals are bad and conservatives are good. (He doesnt tell Joe that his beloved Republicans have fought against every protection and benefit. Joe enjoys throughout his day) Joe agrees, We dont need those big government liberals ruining our lives; after all, Im a self made man who believes everyone should take care of themselves, just like I have.
-----------------------


(So you know what tune is running through my head, "There she is!!!" can be seen on Newgrounds.)

Said by a random stranger I'll likely never meet again, but how very true. Forty million bucks on a damn party. (Not that Clinton's $33 million was so much better, but I digress.) Even if it's not taxpayer money -- as I remember, it's privately funded -- they could have put that money to much better use, I dunno, helping tsunami victims or something. Just seems like an incredible waste to spend that much money on a few hours of partying. Nothing like a government of, by, and for the people, eh?

Another quote I saw today, this one not anonymous:

"History has a long-range perspective. It ultimately passes stern judgment on tyrants and vindicates those who fought, suffered, were imprisoned, and died for human freedom, against political oppression and economic slavery." ~Elizabeth Gurley Flynn

Now, if we could just learn from history, we'd be on to something.
Got that one from feminist_otd, by the way. Interesting stuff sometimes.

I'll end with another quote, one that needs no explanation:

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." ~Martin Luther King Jr.

Sean Jr. wakes up one lovely morning in the year 20xx. He turns on his computer, and I'm again amazed that it's completely silent. But then, with no disk spinning and much of the processing being done server-side, that's to be expected.

You see, since Fiber Optics Revision X has opened up such a huge pipe for data, it's no longer necessary -- or even possible -- to store data on your own computer. You rent the drive space, you subscribe to the software, for high-end apps like games you buy time on a better CPU if yours won't cut it -- and by design, they hardly ever do -- and the data is sent to your computer, which by now is really just a small CPU and some RAM, to be displayed. Music, movies, software, even your OS, all streaming into your computer with no method of retention.

In large part, this came about to combat piracy. The people demanded a new distribution scheme, and they got it. Now there's no question of who owns the intellectual rights to the music, the movies, or the software, since the consumer is never given direct access to it or any means of long-term retention. The corporations now hold their files with an iron fist.

We signed Sean Jr. up for Final Fantasy XX last night, and received the confirmation e-mail today. All they need now is our credit chip number, our hard-drive address so they can install the software, and how much supplemental processing we'll need.

My own opinion is that, if there is a god (and I believe there is), then free will is the only reason for us to exist. There would be no reason for any of this, including Heaven and Hell, if we couldn't choose our own path.

My mother is one of those who thinks everything is predestined. I haven't yet gathered the cojones to throw that back at her when I do something she doesn't like. But someday I will. And pay dearly for it.

My friend Mike thinks that we do have a predetermined destiny, but we get to pick the route we take, kind of an odd combination of the two. Ultimately I find myself with the same objection: as you get closer to the destination, "fate" is decreasing your opportunity to screw up, eventually to zero -- making the journey pretty irrelevant, especially since it doesn't change anyone else's destiny either.

On the more scientific front, there's this. I hadn't even thought of a cosmic chain of cause-and-effect from the Big Bang as a possible cause of predestiny. Interesting that quantum physics might allow us to get around that. Even so, it's the only worthwhile argument for predestiny I've ever heard. Still lacking, but it's better than "God gave us rules AND decided whether or not we'll break them."

Then again, I was bound and determined to try eating ravioli cold earlier, but once the can was open I put it in the microwave, against what I thought was rigid self-determination. Maybe there's something to this whole "fate" thing after all.

No, wait, that's not it. I just licked the fork and remembered how much I hate cold tomato sauce.

I think I put too much rum in my eggnog. Or not enough eggnog in my rum, as the case may be.

And now for something completely different.
For those wondering, I ganked this from sdphreak.

cold is love
brought to you by the isLove Generator

Es muy interesante. No idea what it has to do with the price of coffee beans in Peru, though.

Shyeah, right.

Sorry, but being 11 years old and having one parent die is bad enough. (I was 12, so I know a bit about that.) Being ripped from the remaining parent just because she's gay is barbaric. God help mother and daughter both through what's sure to be a terrible ordeal.

Got an interview tomorrow, and it's the first time I've needed a college transcript. Too short of notice to get one mailed, so I went and picked it up.

I graduated from Bluffton College (now Bluffton University...whatever) back in 2000. For all that time, for all that's changed in my life, for all that's changed in the world -- it still felt like going home. Thinking on it on the way home, I decided it was the difference between growing up and growing older that made BC special -- most of my life I've just done the latter. Bluffton was where I did most of my growing up.

It wasn't like going back in time, and it wasn't like time had stood still -- it was like the time had never elapsed, it was like I was still where I belonged. I double-checked the campus map, but I didn't really need to, the registrar's office was still in College Hall. I walked the long way there -- it's a relatively small campus, travel is done on foot or by bike -- just remembering how beautiful the place was. Even without the memories it's beautiful -- a very clean campus, lots of wooded areas even right next to buildings. And the squirrels. I'd never forgotten how many there were -- jokes abounded anout Marbeck cafeteria workers using squirrel meat in the food -- but I had forgotten just how close you could get to them. Not go-up-and-pet-them close, but they have no qualms about crossing the sidewalk just a few feet in front of you.

The insides of the building were, of course, all the same -- at least the ones I went through. At 8:15 am most people were in classes, didn't really want to disturb anybody. Even though I don't know anybody there anymore...strike that. I still know quite a bit of the faculty and staff (whether they remember me may be another story), I just don't know any of the students. Even so, I still got a friendly hello from anyone I passed. Went through Bren-Dell, my dorm all four years, and still felt like I could knock on any door in the place and be welcome. I might have, too, had any of them been open, but at that time anyone not in a class is still asleep.

As I wandered around the campus, all sorts of memories came back to me, all good memories. Rose-tinted glasses, absence makes the heart grow fonder, yada yada yada. Briefly thought about catalogging them here, but at that point they stop being memories so much as a rote exercise in recollection, then just a list of names and events. I prefer they remain memories, even if they fade with time.

In a way it's a little strange I'm so fond of the place, as I haven't kept in touch with anyone who went to school with me. Someone I once knew (who has no other bearing to this story) once told me that life is a passing parade -- once people pass, they normally never enter your life again. While he had said it in reference to the losers in life, I've found it to be applicable to the best as well as the worst. You're friends with them while they're here, then hope they remember you as fondly as you remember them.

I could have stayed on campus all day, but they wouldn't have liked that much at work, so I said my "see you later"s to the place -- as I have no doubts about being there again sometime -- took one last drive around the back of the campus, and was on my way.

The trip back saw me bringing up memories that were memories when I attended there, memories I can talk about without them losing their magic, memories etched upon my soul. Memories of my father, how he used to come home full of metal splinters and smelling like grease from the factory that eventually took his life. Memories of holding my cousin Trina when she was little and telling her how much I love her -- she's still with us, but now that she's 18 I can't get away with that.

And also more memories of Bluffton on the trip home, this time more the relogious aspect of attending a Mennonite college. I wasn't Mennonite then and I'm not now -- I don't think I'd classify myself as really having a denomination -- but that was the environment in which my faith grew up along with me. I said the Lord's Prayer on the way home -- something I haven't done in a long time -- and paused a few times, thinking about the temptations I give in to and the trespasses I had yet to forgive. Including some etched in as deeply as the best of my memories, which I tend to forget more than forgive. I'll not bring them up here -- if I can't forgive them, I suppose they're better left forgotten.

All in all, a very peaceful and happy morning for me. I only wish coming home felt like going home.

The problem with the American Dream is that it distracts from the American reality. Beautiful fantasy, horrible economic strategy.

No, you're not going to be rich. Ever. You'll be doing well if you can comfortably support a family. You're not going to rake in money hand-over-fist, you're not going to be the CEO, you're not going to beat the Joneses, and you're sure as Hell not going to be on the cover of Forbes.

Why, then, are we so insistent on keeping around an antiquated economic system that caters to the few that luck out? a system that by-and-large abandons the average worker? a system that puts profits ahead of people?

In much of the civilized world, "socialism" is no longer a dirty word. I pray I live long enough to see us catch up.

"Then why not move to Sweden or some other socialist country?"

I'm glad you asked. One big reason is my patriotism. Yes, despite what some would tell you, dissenters are not unpatriotic. As an American, I want to see my country and everyone in it grow and prosper. I want what's best for my family and friends, not just me. Unless you're either born into money or incredibly lucky, capitalism just isn't getting the job done. It's actually somewhat amusing being called un-American by those who would have us stagnate, spinning our wheels yet never getting anywhere.

Of course, the other big reason is finances. I can't afford to uproot and move to another country, nor can most people who are told to accept the status quo or leave.

Which brings me to the title of this thread. I'm no longer going to pretend that Kerry is so much better than Bush -- they're more-or-less the same on a wide variety of issues. Instead I intend to vote for Walt Brown, the 2004 Socialist candidate. No, he's not likely to win this election, but that's no longer the point -- I'm voting my conscience, voting for a candidate I can really get behind. And I invite those who read this blog (BOTH of you =P ) to at least give the party platform a looksee and decide for yourselves whether or not this idea deserves your vote.

Over at Occam's Razor, Mark has written an excellent article on why opposing ideologies aren't un-American. I highly recommend this entry, even (especially?) if you're not into (or tired of) politics. It's an idea I've tried to get across to a few people myself, but never so eloquently.

Why are you still here? Go read it!

=P

Chocolate-covered bananas truly are nature's perfect food.

Well water sucks, which is why I'm glad I've got a couple gallons of my sister's city water in the fridge.

I like being barefoot.

The fan blowing on me is nice and cool.

Firesomething randomly calling my browser "Mothra Poisonbug" is hilarious in its coincidence.

Being a little sleepy is entirely pleasant when you've got nothing to do.

Silence can be very peaceful.

It's times like these that I feel closest to God.

Happiness is all in the details.