I've written over 250 articles, and I have yet to see one cent for my time and effort. I think it's time to throw-in the towel and start turning the wheel and pushing the gas pedal as an oilfield bus driver so I can afford to slowly drink myself to death on something other than domestic swill.
$38 / hour is what it's going to cost to keep me from sharing my opinion on the Internet throughout the day. It beats the kick in the ass I'm getting for spending so much time attempting to provide helpful insights and endeavoring to become an authority on... something.
Right now, I do chores for cigarettes, food, shelter, and the privilege of being on-call 24/7. I don't know what my folks expect from me. It feels as though I've been built-up just to become a scapegoat for every undesirable element of their lives. A misgiving of an ill-fated double-down blackjack hand. A pariah. A egregious misfit. I don't even like hockey.
Mom taught me to read before I was four, and I took to it - I was highly curious, and loved to lord knowledge over others. Now I'm expected to embrace the mainstream? To be happy scraping gunk under the supervision of some semi-literate wanker for a living? Piano lessons at six, and I'm chastised for making too much noise in my humble studio / bedroom once a week... even though I endure the likes of City Line, Dr. Phil, General Hospital, Amazing Race, etc. blasting at full volume every night? Perhaps you think me an ingrate, esteemed reader - perhaps I am. I might be better-off today had my folks simply neglected their only child a bit more, and kicked me out the door when I was eighteen.
Someone like Omar Khadr would probably turn his nose-up at the sort of wage-work I'm considering... maybe I'm a sucker? Maybe I should just join the Taliban / Al Quieda / CIA, kill some Americans, spend a decade in prison, and then get $10 million bucks from the Canadian government upon being released? I know I sure won't make $1 million a year at an honest, unskilled job, and I'll gladly endure a daily routine of three squares and a chair punctuated by a bit of water-boarding for that kind of money! It wouldn't be much of an adjustment from my current situation. Heck, even a University President only averages about $280,447!
Since my input of opinion is of no consequence, and I'm shunned from polite society, provincial politics has become little more than theatrical amusement for me. The governance of the day really has zero impact on the average person's bottom line... the one constant being that you should expect to get bilked six ways to Sunday regardless of who holds the scepter. I won't even bother casting a provincial vote anymore.
I'm still anxiously waiting for the arrival of the Arturia Minilab MIDI keyboard. You should understand, esteemed reader, having this unassuming electronic doodad at my disposal will be the highlight of my whole year... made possible by a extraordinary couple, devout Catholics, who God has blessed with an appreciable number of impressively nice children who I'm certain will become paragons of virtue if not proverbial pillars of whichever communities they eventually choose to reside within. It's the second year in a row that they've gotten me a Long & McQuaig gift certificate as a Christmas gift.
Although I'm not religiously affiliated myself, I become suspicious of motives whenever anyone disparages the Catholic faith in my presence - the same way I become suspicious whenever anyone starts attacking anything. It's been my experience that vehement attacks on institutions often originate with perceived sleights that are, more often than not, really just a deflection of the complainant's own personal failings. I don't mean to suggest that Roman Catholicism is the essence of purity in matters divine, just to point-out that the exceptional is often a target for malfeasance.
I cannot help but to think of this selfless family as perhaps one of the finer examples of the good people who comprise today's Catholics. Peel away the layers of controversy that has surrounded the faith throughout history, and what you're left with are honest folks sincerely striving to manifest the truthful teachings of Jesus Christ - and who can argue with the wholesomeness and righteousness of Christ?
God bless him, Satan sure tries!
Theosophy is of course a matter of discussion better left to those who have a more vested interest in historical accuracy, so I'll settle on the position that merciful loving kindness is something we all have a capacity for as sentient beings.
Creating music has become my last positive refuge from a life as a lonely societal loser. I've all but entirely lost the ability to 'go out there and put on a brave face!' I'd much rather drink beer in solitude than spend time exchanging sober pleasantries with people I fundamentally disagree with. I'm tired of poking holes in bank-slave philosophies.
My existence isn't entirely devoid of love: thanks to an old friend who set the folks-up with a puppy, I enjoy the company of a very affectionate dog who doesn't seem to mind that I'm a lazy slob who sits at a computer all day long!
$38 / hour is what it's going to cost to keep me from sharing my opinion on the Internet throughout the day. It beats the kick in the ass I'm getting for spending so much time attempting to provide helpful insights and endeavoring to become an authority on... something.
Right now, I do chores for cigarettes, food, shelter, and the privilege of being on-call 24/7. I don't know what my folks expect from me. It feels as though I've been built-up just to become a scapegoat for every undesirable element of their lives. A misgiving of an ill-fated double-down blackjack hand. A pariah. A egregious misfit. I don't even like hockey.
Mom taught me to read before I was four, and I took to it - I was highly curious, and loved to lord knowledge over others. Now I'm expected to embrace the mainstream? To be happy scraping gunk under the supervision of some semi-literate wanker for a living? Piano lessons at six, and I'm chastised for making too much noise in my humble studio / bedroom once a week... even though I endure the likes of City Line, Dr. Phil, General Hospital, Amazing Race, etc. blasting at full volume every night? Perhaps you think me an ingrate, esteemed reader - perhaps I am. I might be better-off today had my folks simply neglected their only child a bit more, and kicked me out the door when I was eighteen.
Someone like Omar Khadr would probably turn his nose-up at the sort of wage-work I'm considering... maybe I'm a sucker? Maybe I should just join the Taliban / Al Quieda / CIA, kill some Americans, spend a decade in prison, and then get $10 million bucks from the Canadian government upon being released? I know I sure won't make $1 million a year at an honest, unskilled job, and I'll gladly endure a daily routine of three squares and a chair punctuated by a bit of water-boarding for that kind of money! It wouldn't be much of an adjustment from my current situation. Heck, even a University President only averages about $280,447!
Since my input of opinion is of no consequence, and I'm shunned from polite society, provincial politics has become little more than theatrical amusement for me. The governance of the day really has zero impact on the average person's bottom line... the one constant being that you should expect to get bilked six ways to Sunday regardless of who holds the scepter. I won't even bother casting a provincial vote anymore.
I'm still anxiously waiting for the arrival of the Arturia Minilab MIDI keyboard. You should understand, esteemed reader, having this unassuming electronic doodad at my disposal will be the highlight of my whole year... made possible by a extraordinary couple, devout Catholics, who God has blessed with an appreciable number of impressively nice children who I'm certain will become paragons of virtue if not proverbial pillars of whichever communities they eventually choose to reside within. It's the second year in a row that they've gotten me a Long & McQuaig gift certificate as a Christmas gift.
Although I'm not religiously affiliated myself, I become suspicious of motives whenever anyone disparages the Catholic faith in my presence - the same way I become suspicious whenever anyone starts attacking anything. It's been my experience that vehement attacks on institutions often originate with perceived sleights that are, more often than not, really just a deflection of the complainant's own personal failings. I don't mean to suggest that Roman Catholicism is the essence of purity in matters divine, just to point-out that the exceptional is often a target for malfeasance.
I cannot help but to think of this selfless family as perhaps one of the finer examples of the good people who comprise today's Catholics. Peel away the layers of controversy that has surrounded the faith throughout history, and what you're left with are honest folks sincerely striving to manifest the truthful teachings of Jesus Christ - and who can argue with the wholesomeness and righteousness of Christ?
God bless him, Satan sure tries!
Theosophy is of course a matter of discussion better left to those who have a more vested interest in historical accuracy, so I'll settle on the position that merciful loving kindness is something we all have a capacity for as sentient beings.
Creating music has become my last positive refuge from a life as a lonely societal loser. I've all but entirely lost the ability to 'go out there and put on a brave face!' I'd much rather drink beer in solitude than spend time exchanging sober pleasantries with people I fundamentally disagree with. I'm tired of poking holes in bank-slave philosophies.
My existence isn't entirely devoid of love: thanks to an old friend who set the folks-up with a puppy, I enjoy the company of a very affectionate dog who doesn't seem to mind that I'm a lazy slob who sits at a computer all day long!
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