Posts Tagged ‘crime

18
Feb
20

Fear, a Personal Analysis of the Concept

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A wise man once said…

Fear is a reluctance to accept and learn from a possibility.

[This shall be a pooling place of thoughts and/or philosophy on the concept(s) of fear.]

Unlike denial, which is an absolute resistance to something being a possibility, fear acknowledges the possibility and responds with a frown of disapproval. If allowed to fester and grow, fear becomes a vile mold or weed that feeds off the energy that keeps its host active; it saps motivation and ambition. Some can dismiss nightmares in a short span of time; others remain troubled by them. And, still others may repeat the nightmare (in what is known as a “recurring nightmare”), similar to deja vu and a difficult reincarnation; some might say this is karma or learning a hard lesson while others would judge it as a reluctance to let go of a figment of the imagination. None of it is real…except to the one who experiences it and, perhaps, those who’ve already had the same or a similar experience.

In Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, when Luke Skywalker is told Darth Vader is his father, he scowls and squeals as he says this cannot be true. He is genuinely afraid of the possibility he does not want to accept. If Luke was purely brave, ignorant and/or unafraid, he would have kept a straight face and told Darth Vader to go stick his red lightsaber where the sun doesn’t shine. And, it wasn’t “the force” making Luke afraid, either, even if Darth Vader, with his oddly skull-like mask, can be a bit intimidating.

Some fears are common, easier to share and accept as real, fears of the dark, deadly creatures, clowns, heights, cramped spaces, etc. Others are more particular and personal, fears of threatening people we’ve met, fears of dogs after being attacked by one, fears of eating a certain food after someone tricked you with a tainted sample, fears of trusting certain merchants after being duped into buying something, fears of rape after being a victim.

In regards to the last example, a fear of rape may be common, experienced by many, but every individual experiences it a little differently based upon the type of person who assaulted them. Someone first raped by a family member will not be as wary of a stranger while the one raped on the street will not be as concerned about family assaulting them. Thus, one victim may not always be able to “relate” with another; there may be resistance to comforting each other from a shade of difference.

Some say fear is good; they claim you cannot know or feel courage without knowing fear. But, how courageous are they who are programmed to fear a “common enemy” and/or follow the orders of a commander without question? Are all soldiers brave? Are they not also afraid? Are some not more afraid than brave? Are the ones who are more brave than afraid also naive? How many truly know the enemy and the reasons to be afraid and/or brave? [Gee. That’s a lot of questions I just asked.]

Fear is often, not always, broken by experience. You’ll fear cutting yourself less once you’ve cut yourself enough times and learned how to tend the wounds…and you’ll eventually, hopefully, become wise enough to avoid repeating the mistakes.

[Let me just pause right there to mention……I am not talking about “cutter” cutting. I don’t mean people who cut themselves to bleed out the pain they think this act will relieve. That is a different psychological puzzle with traces of will in the mix. A person who cuts him or her self while tackling a task, cutting wood, working with metal, etc., may be cut and learn from the experience. An emotional and troubled “cutter” ignores the lesson in favor of a sensory experience, similar to how some people use sex for pleasure and forget the emotional relationship aspect which often translates into “making love.”]

Similarly, we become less afraid of monsters and “things that go bump in the night” when we walk enough dark corridors, get tired of mysterious sounds in the dark and watch enough scary movies to make us laugh at what some deem horror. There’s a word for that, a word some may have a tough time spelling. Fear loses its strength the more we become numb to it. And, once we are numb enough to the fear, we can and must then rise above it.

I keep thinking back to a TV movie I’ve watched a few times, Merlin. In that movie, the grand wizard-in-training dismisses his enemy by ignoring her, depriving her of the response and attention she demands. He says she will be forgotten when and if people turn away from her. How peaceful and poetic is that justice? He didn’t lay a hand on her. He didn’t fight her. He just walked away from the fight and let “the powers that be” sort everything out. Now, sure, if the gods were cruel, his enemy could have stabbed him in the back or moved the sorceress in front of him in a way that would make her a constant pest to his senses. But, that wasn’t how the story ended. In any case, Merlin’s example sheds light on how we must get past our fears…but only once we’ve conquered them. Without having a firm grip on ourselves and proving a fear no longer can hurt us, it remains with us like a difficult infection or disease.

From personal experience, I’ve been living with a number of fears. Some come with/from a lack of experience; I acknowledge that. Others come from experiences I refuse to repeat, even if a harsh higher power puts me right back in the pit with the troublemakers. Some would say I need to go to the sources of my fears, face them and get over the feelings. But, there are some “sources” facing would only agitate the feelings. And, yet, I am sure facing even those sources would have some positive effect, a thickening of the skin as all repeat experiences should have. [To each their own path to recovery.]

Just imagine having a fear for more than a decade…for more than a few decades…for as long as one has been a legal adult or even longer, in some cases.

As a kid, I had a fear of the dark. It wasn’t so tragic that I needed a light on at all times or a hand to guide me to the bathroom. But, it pecked at me for a while. Then, I stubbed my toes a few times and confronted shadows; I spent more and more time sitting in dark places when I didn’t want to face scary company my parents kept and when I didn’t want to put up with guests who smoked, drank and spoke aggressively. I grew a thick skin that still has a slight fear of what lurks in the dark; I still shudder, occasionally, when I let a possibility enter my mind.

The best remedy I can give for this sort of fear is to accept whatever comes; if you are meant to die from what troubles you in the dark, you will. And, you cannot avoid it. Luckily, I’d hope, anything lurking in the dark won’t have an effect on more important matters like personal long-term finances. So, you might get assaulted and robbed of SOME wealth; but you’ll live to bank another day.

I’ve also been a victim of bullies most of my life. Pick a decade, and I can describe a few pests who have jabbed me with needles of ridicule and intimidation. I can cover one hand with the number I’ve stared down and repelled by my own defiance. The other hand holds those who eluded my seemingly limited influence. I cannot deny the possibility another won’t appear. I must accept this and be prepared for it. I should not be or have to be troubled by the possibility, at my age. But, such is life, and, so far, life keeps throwing me rockheads. [Maybe that’s why I become so fascinated with Geodude in Pokemon games. It’s a sort of therapy for dealing with bullies.]

[This ties a bit into how I feel about “supporting the troops.” I hear countless pleas for donations and support for forces taking it upon themselves to root out “evil,” “enemies,” “disease” and “threats.” But, from my experiences with bullies–and my fair share of ailments–it’s hard for me to buy “bully insurance.” I recall some TV shows of my youth that offered such remedies; victims would be asked by brave bigger kids to pay for the services of a protector. But, what guarantee does this provide? The brave bigger kid is not always around when a bully decides to strike; he cannot be everywhere at once and has his own life to maintain. Just as soldiers have families and friends and duties placed upon them by their governments; they cannot spend all of their time and energy on confronting things that may go boom in the night.

A soldier, in my opinion, is called upon to deal with a warring threat. War calls, and the soldier answers. If there is no war–only a fear of war or violence–the soldier is facing a vague enemy and at risk of paranoia and its ugly cousins. A soldier riddled with fear and doubt is open to sneak attacks and confusion. A soldier with a set goal in mind and the preparation to deal with anything that crosses his/her path is more likely to succeed in his/her mission.

And, as a supporter of said soldier, if the objective of the soldier in need is not clear, donated resources are at risk of waste, just as some buy groceries to satisfy a possible need but then let the food rot as they become involved in other preoccupations.]

Now, I have spilled quite a load from my busy brain. I don’t know how to conclude. So, I will leave things as they lay and let readers do with my notions what they will. Discuss.

18
Feb
20

Humor, a Personal Analysis of the Concept

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A wise man once said…

Humor is a selective perspective.

[This shall be a pooling place of thoughts and/or philosophy on the concept(s) of humor.]

We laugh at what is either ridiculous or personally true within the limits of self-preservation. Some may be comfortable with self-ridicule, laughing at their own flaws and faults. Others more simply laugh at what they feel does not hurt them or give them reason to be concerned. And, yet others laugh at everything the first two branches of humanity cannot find amusing, repelling waves of tension, anxiety and fear.

Taking all of the above into account, I sort of pity those who choose comedy as a career path. Have I not seen enough movies and other shows in which jesters get “the hook” (or worse)? Have I not heard enough “starving artist” stories about comics who bemoan a hard life…after countless routines gabbing about how horrible the people in their lives are? Why does the jester get killed? Because his or her “royal audience” has a change of appetite and no longer is amused by what amused them yesterday……and the “royal audience” has a lack of mercy which compels them to dish out death instead of mild or moderate disapproval.

From personal experience, I’ve learned an audience–whether it’s an audience of one or thousands–will egg you on to talk more about whatever they deem amusing in the moment. But, eventually, the ability to amuse fades and the comic is left exposed to a sort of ill karma, retribution for turning acquaintances into enemies worth teasing.

Many love comics who get personal, who can speak of a loved one or fellow human being passed on the street in a harsh way. It’s almost a wicked sickness or trick of the mind brought upon by an evil spirit. Just as one may be encouraged to partake in a group crime like robbing a store or conning a “mark.” There’s thrill in the teamwork, but the prize–for those who haven’t lost their conscience–comes with some measure of regret, some reason to disapprove of what just happened, even if the crooks are presently caught up in the thrill of the chase.

You know the old saying…

Crime doesn’t pay.

Many criminals would laugh at this until they are sufficiently punished. Until they no longer get away with what comes easy to them, they won’t blink an eye of doubt. Crime, whether it’s emotional or financial, comes at a price. And, the price eventually impacts the criminal because the suffering of one spreads to others; and those others likely cross paths with the criminal who then experiences a shift in the success of his/her ambitions. The next “heist” may not be so profitable or the next “mark” might not fall as expected. There’s no reliability in crime, and there’s no reliability in humor.

Humor often is a crime of emotionally wounding another.

There’s a sick trend of getting more laughs from picking on your own family than current events. A comic known as Colbert presently spends most of his energy making jokes about President Trump, not about some more common experience we all might have or the general status of the world. Why? Surely, there are more things to joke about than one man with a bad spray tan and colored hair. But, he is prodded (by someone) to deliver this material every night to make his chicken feed, to fund his home and family. Tell us more lousy jokes about the fat, quasi-rich man’s physique and make fun of the way he talks, and I’ll put another coin in your hat, funny man. What a sad organ-grinder-monkey business that is. It’s no better than the child lured into the business of picking pockets.

And, with the crime of humor, when you’re not a jester being killed by your king/queen, comes the punishment of losing the audience or, worse, turning a portion of the audience into an enemy. [Unlike the pickpocket who, as long as they remain unseen, never becomes a target of personal threat.] Does a comic truly make a friend out of the victim of his or her jokes? I wonder. I may have dismissed those who made jokes about me. But, I cannot say I became good friends with the short-lived comics. And, if I made jokes about anyone, I didn’t see them wanting to remain close friends…just temporary audience members. I might as well be a bartender.

In politics, some would say televised debates don’t keep an audience’s attention if they don’t involve “mud slinging.” Just as some throw sex scenes into movies and TV shows to draw whistles and other animal sounds. It’s a form of temptation. And, temptation is rarely rewarded in a way that improves the quality of life. Temptation is equivalent to drinking alcohol; the effects are temporary and more often harmful.

Even the most self-assured can be wounded. So, why stab at them with every “zinger” you can imagine, expecting them to laugh? Pick the wrong note, and watch that smile wither and die. Why gamble with this?

Why does anyone pick comedy as a career path? Because they see no better option, like a drunkard who can only drown him or her self in intoxicating beverages until they puke their pain away, only to get a rude awakening, later. And, from recent cases I’ve observed, many comics are deeply troubled and only hiding behind a laugh. Fun for the audience who is blind to their pain. But, tragic for the comic. And, shame on the audience who ignores the troubles of the comics, who prod them for more reasons to laugh. If only we could all be amusing to lighten our own hearts and still help each other get through the difficulties life deals us, instead of buying temporary relief.

So, when you hear people say they favor a funny lover/life companion, maybe think twice about that before signing up for the position. Humor is subject to opinion/personal taste. And, humor is not eternal. It is far less eternal than love and devotion. Even a devoted comic cannot count on humor. Just as I, a devoted creative spirit cannot be expected to craft a masterpiece every time someone prods me to impress them with something from my mind, mouth and/or hands. The unseen forces of the financial world may treat us all like cattle, but we are not cows. We are humans. And, that’s not funny.

Now, I have spilled quite a load from my busy brain. I don’t know how to conclude. So, I will leave things as they lay and let readers do with my notions what they will. Discuss.

20
Jul
18

Cherish Your Anonymity

*****

With so many suffering heavy punishment for speaking their minds via modern technology, it’s ever more vital we who do not “tweet” with our actual names spelled out on a glowing screen applaud and celebrate our “anonymity.”  We cowardly souls who bravely don costumes and vent as we feel fit when technology works with us; we should be comforted and celebrated.

It seems like every day in the news someone is getting grilled for something “offensive.”  We have squads of LGBT and feminism police officers, hordes of body-celebrating (instead of shaming) and various other armies going to war with the most sensitive of mining equipment capable of picking up the slightest blip of questionable commentary, increasingly adjusting the high standard of moral conduct until everyone who isn’t a violated woman or LGBT-type person will be guilty of offense and thereby open to verbal, mental and physical assault by the so-called victims.  So far, we without publicized names have been safe of retaliation.

I can’t speak for every offense case, but I would not be surprised if some offenses deemed fit for court or the loss of a job turned out to be misinterpreted.  After all, kids on a playground can cry wolf and have a teacher call a parent simply because the tattle-tale had a sweet face or stronger voice than the supposed offender.  And, who is to say some of these offensive voiced bits aren’t said at times when the speakers are not in the best of moods or right minds?  I know I don’t subscribe to alcohol or recreational drugs.  But, others do.  And, just because shit comes out of one’s mouth three years ago on a bad day does not mean that person is anti-gay or a chauvinistic maniac.

And, what if someone is a tad gay-phobic or unclear on the nature of that lifestyle?  Is every inappropriate remark worthy of jail time or a giant fine?  Are we catering to lawyers so they can put their hideous faces and names on every item advertised on local TV?  I don’t want to see so many lawyer ads.  I don’t want those people thinking they run the place just because they are getting old and think investing in a little advertising everywhere makes them immortal.  You TV lawyers have really become annoying!  And, I will not likely support you or any cause/company with your name on it because you are (annoying).

But, I’m getting off-subject, now.  Ehem.

You really have to mind your words and be sure you don’t touch another living soul lest you be accused of inappropriately fondling someone.  A pat on the back could be deemed the grabbing of a breast (on your back, apparently).  A sociable kiss on the cheek might be viewed as unwanted intimacy of the worst kind unless you can certify you are from a nation that does this socially as a part of their native culture.  Parents who kiss their kids on the lips?  You’re likely next on the chopping block.

One wonders if “social media” isn’t a mousetrap.  It lures people out of hiding to voice every little thing to come into their tiny brains…only to get them in trouble?  Snap!  You’re dead and out with the banana peels you slipped on coming in here.

But, I suppose, being anonymous DOES have it’s setbacks.  I mean, people are less trusting of random or fake names…unless you learn to share a sense of creativity and/or humor and can spell correctly (which so many cannot).  [Stop trying to speak English if you cannot use a dictionary.  I don’t use Spanish words I don’t know how to spell.]  You can’t really be a shopkeeper with a fake name, can you?…unless it’s a brand name.  But, even then, you have to be accountable for that shop with a real name/some form of ID.   People who use their real names seem to be taken more seriously because they seem fearless and, well, real, genuine.

[Yet, in this shady world of face-less interaction–unless you use some service like Skype which seems already forgotten these days–how do you determine a real face you see is that person’s real face?  And, how many “faceless” internet users stalk those “real” people, taking advantage of the exposed while remaining randomly generated user names, often with long barcode-like numbers attached, giving me the impression they are “bots” or some call center staff members in a building dominated by Middle-Eastern folks by the dozens?]

It seems astounding that more celebrities don’t use fake online names/accounts.  But, maybe they do, and all we know are the ones we hear about in the news when some mosquito with a microphone or phone-camera is stalking these people.

Once upon a time, people kept personal thoughts on parchment scrolls they had to carry with them wherever they went.  If anyone else read them, it was because the author read, lost or donated the scrolls.  Many years later, people kept notebook-style journals, especially teenage girls, who would lament brothers and parents violating their privacy.  Now, we have computers of various capacities and sizes.  And, instead of a PC journal like the one Doogie Howser, M.D. kept, so many turn to blogs and these accursed “tweeting” type accounts, putting everything “out there” for the world to see and LIKE and shallowly evaluate from afar…from anonymous spaces.

In short, those of you who have not put your real selves out for all to see, ye who do not YouTube your boob lube and hash-tag your new ‘do rag and personal mag’ (magazine), blippity blobbity blah!….  My blood pressure spiked just then and tangled my tongue-fingers.  Or, is it my finger-tongue?  Anyway.  Those of you, like me, who create unique identities for themselves online for whatever reason, embrace and applaud your anonymity, today.  And, count your blessings.  Because you could be somewhere down the list of those moral-criminal-hunting Elmer Fudds and receive severe punishment for the slightest misunderstanding or careless outburst on your worst day.  But, for now, you’re Joe Cool and free to be loose with those journalistic lips.

[We should start a holiday.  But, no one seems to follow me on those thoughts any better than I follow others.  So, I guess I’m limited to suggesting and waiting for some trendsetter to print up all the hoopla and manufacture all the swag.]

Happy Anonymity Day(s)!

26
Jan
17

The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun, 2015/2016 Movie Review

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Call me a cab and find a shrink. I may need some help sorting out my feelings about “The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun,” a French film starring Scottish actress Freya Mavor, and the mad people behind it. I am as much aroused and intrigued as I am puzzled and disgusted…which–from my understanding of the director’s explanation–seems on par with French cinema.

[NOTE: This film is either closely or loosely based on a novel I have not read, a novel the director claims is “insane” (though he loves it) and about a woman raised by a nun who still speaks to her as a conscience. My views are based solely on the DVD film and the interview I watched subsequently. And, I’d recommend watching both at least twice to have any chance of grasping every detail…unless you are just so damn observant that you miss nothing the first time through.]

The story seems to take place in the mid-1970s, resembling the TV series Mad Men. Dany, a tall, timid and short-sighted secretary (a 23-year-old Catholic school girl version of Donna from “That 70s Show”) is asked by her ad agency boss to type up his rough rewrite of some fifty-page “report” by the end of the day. Concealing her sexual fantasies, she is willing to tackle the task but confesses to a lack of typing speed. The boss offers her a chance to complete the work at a house shared by his wife and young daughter, provided she tells no one. Dany quickly begins to imagine him leaving his wife and child to toy with her. On top of being a daydreamer, she has a bad habit of “complicating” matters with questions which quickly get on the nerves of the boss and Anita (the wife and Dany’s former secretary school rival who may have “fooled around” with her “ages ago” which is actually a little over three years before the story begins).

When the report is finished, the boss makes one more request of his most trusted secretary. Accompanying the family to the airport, Dany is left with a teal Thunderbird and the “simple” chore of driving it back to the family’s Paris home. While the boss and his family are away, Dany decides to play, motivated by a tempting voice in her head. She takes the car south, in hopes of spending a few hours at the beach, but soon finds herself running into people who claim to have seen her earlier, a flirtatious stalker and amassing evidence that may convict her of murder. Whether or not the ending is a happy one remains debatable.

Though fairly brilliant in terms of cinematography (aside from maybe one or two poorly lit scenes), casting and music, the intentionally “trippy” and disorienting short story is not unlike something Quentin Tarantino would devise, except, thankfully, lacking his usual excess of gore. It has many of the touches I long to put in a similar movie: the fashions (though some, including the frequently featured “dress,” are a bit revealing), the moody lighting and music, the variety of camera shots, the comic book panels (without being panels), the bookish beauty with hidden sides to her personality and a backstory (though not flushed out in the movie) to explain her behavior, the scandalous/suspicious encounters, the well-devised plot of the villains played out (not perfectly) in the background, etc. There’s a somewhat magical flow to the whole product which some have said is a 95-minute music video. I prefer to think of it as a daring perfume ad (which could be ironic, considering the protagonist works for an advertising agency).

Even after two viewings, I have some questions. One, why can’t a half-dozen auto mechanics catch a man either entering or exiting a restroom at their gas station/cafe? Two, why would a religious young secretary hook up with a guy who admits to disabling her (borrowed) car and daringly climbs inside with her before she knows his name (considering she aspires to hooking up with her boss, unless both men are nothing more than a night of fun to her)? How does she stay so calm with the guy when he’s obviously dangerous in more than one scene? How does such a damsel in distress get from the wilderness to a truck stop, track down a missing car and then walk some unknown distance down a seaside road alone to find said missing car? Where were the parents of the boy at the beach? And, why would he want to climb in the car of a strange older woman when he knows something is amiss with the trunk?

While I can accept the nudity and sex as typical of adult films and more commonly accepted in non-American films (which is a bit surprising, considering the general impression I get of Americans being comfortable with casual sex and rape), the amount presented in the film was still more than I care to see. I also didn’t care for a young actress consistently playing with a religious necklace between her sexually daring exploits. [This may have been included to reflect the character’s childhood in the care of a nun (if the movie is sticking true to what the director says of the novel). But, viewing the film without such knowledge, I felt the necklace was unnecessary and misused. If it provided moments of conscience, I question Dany’s morals.]

The “naught bits” justify what some have said of the director. Or, at least, I assume what the director said of those who question his work is true and agree with the sentiments. He says people accuse him of “getting off” on his actresses and abusing certain camera shots. Well, despite his claims to the opposite, he DOES seem to play with women in a manner I’d say is either erotic or pornographic. He prefers the term “fetish.” His little collection of paintings and admission to designing pornographic comic books–the former displayed in his enclosed interview for the film–do not depict him as an entirely honest man, either.

Let me pause right here to address more about the interview portion of the DVD. Why is it certain (if not all) French “artists” speak with contradicting thoughts? Why is something “utterly useless” obviously valued by the person? Why is trash worth discussing at any length? Why build something just to tear it apart? And, why does the explanation for one idea spring off in some other direction that seems completely unrelated? [I have tried drumming up an example–without jotting down every word the guy says–but it just gives me a headache.] Is this simply some attempt at being modest (versus boasting)? Am I right in being puzzled? Or, is someone doing a poor job of translating the interview?

Just as I fuss and fume over some of Tarantino’s work, this little tale *directed* by Joann Sfar is a steamy pot of artistic potential. It’s not utter trash…nor is it a blissful masterpiece. But, with a little more editing, I’d be inclined to describe it as the latter. [Why do some artists poop on their creations?]

This is a DVD I’d keep on hand for reference material but would have a bit of a hard time watching regularly/casually (particularly with anyone who is not a lover). And, I’d consider working with those responsible for the camera shots/editing, provided they can cope with making some changes to their “routine.” While I might share some of the same fetishes, I would do more to keep the nudity, sex and violence blurred/veiled or–better yet–suggested (versus “in-your-face”).

[And, as I often say, if I am going to dabble in nude artwork, I’d keep such pieces private between me and my lover. It feels wrong to paint (or draw) nude and/or provocative images of someone working with me who is not (my lover). It is inexcusable to claim you are protecting actresses while displaying nude and/or scandalous images of them on publicly released material.]

“The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun” (2015/2016)
Directed by Joann Sfar
Editted by Maryline Monthieux and Christophe Pinel
Original “opera” music by Agnes Olier

14
Jul
14

The Next Time You Feel the Need to Ask, “Wouldn’t it be cool if…,”

…hold your tongue and consider the possible consequences/misuse of that thought. You’re as likely to contribute to crime and horrific punishment as you are to creating something new and exciting.

14
Jul
14

Creation Is Like a Bowl of Cherries

The beauty and sweetness of the fruit lasts only so long before the rotting begins. With good intentions often–if not always–come(s) horrible misuse and/or abuse.

After going on some great trip or winning some contest, have you ever met someone who wanted you to share the rewards (photos, souvenirs, a sample/taste if food is involved, etc.) sooner than you felt comfortable/willing? You might tell them to wait or–if you have no qualms about your friends/family turning on you–deny them their desired share until you decide how much you want to give and when. Now, you have the “freedom” to put it all out there for all to see (including some you don’t want to see). You tell yourself this will relieve the pressure of nagging hands/eyes and keep those you care about connected. But, what is everyone you don’t personally know doing with the same bounty of information? While you think the farm is free, you don’t own the land. And, any fence you might put up is only as good as its designer. Only the designer can put up a fence no one else can bypass (until someone figures out how to do just that).

If I’ve learned one thing about life from my exposure to the age of the internet (and all of its minions), it’s that just about anything (or everything?) that starts out as a good thing gets abused/misused until tabloids and TV anchors can’t get enough bad news out to the masses. [Whether the bad news is genuine or just hype to stir paranoia in the interest of consumption…is always a good question.]

The second thing I’ve learned is that no story or truth is as valid and worth hearing as the one from the source itself. Anything else is likely tainted with suspicion and/or foul intent. Yet, it’s difficult to reach/hear/see the truth when there are so many riled voices clamoring at once.

And, before there ever was an internet, I learned advertised reputations and all of the lovely things people stamp on the backs of covers (for example) in favor of the creator(s) are often wrong.

But, let’s get back to the matter of misusing what is intended to be an improvement. It’s like indulging in some form of food or drink–which initially tastes good–and then vomiting the inevitably foul bi-product or result of such action. [If you’ve ever had a hangover or found yourself with your face in a toilet bowl after consuming more alcohol than your weak stomach could handle, you get the drift.] If word gets out, if something becomes a fad/trend, it seems there’s almost always a chance it will carry trouble in its wake.

So, while the internet gives seemingly boundless freedom and inspiration to the billions on this planet (those who have access, anyway) to create to their heart’s content with the hopes of becoming a wealthy star (pending management by some foreign agent who will gladly take a cut of the profits for sitting within some proximity of you), this is reckless action bound to benefit a greedy, manipulative few rather than satisfy and improve the world. The “farmers” just made it easier for the “crops” to come to them with less labor. And, in the process, the masses risk losing their health, wealth and dignity/privacy…basically, their freedom (of life as it is granted either naturally or by a higher power). The old ways of abusing power simply have found a new mask to wear.




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