SOPA/PIPA Awareness Day, 1/18/12

While many websites are blacking themselves out today, in protest of the Stop Online Piracy Act and the Protect IP Act, I thought this would be a perfect time to break my accidental vow of silence and speak.

The internet has evolved from its very basic database form into a communications tool the likes of which no one has ever seen. It is the ultimate egalitarian device, offering the same information (both good and bad) to all who choose to seek it. It’s a leveler of playing fields, a source of entertainment, and a handy tool.

While I don’t personally believe that the acts coming before congress are anything other than politicians serving their corporate masters, I don’t think that this is a step that should be taken. Acts such as these and the National Defense Authorization Act–Which itself expands Patriot Act detention and interrogation policies to US Citizens–seem to be the beginnings of a slippery slope towards increasingly serious incursions on our freedoms and opinions. The timing of the NDAA with the rising tensions between the Government and the Occupy movement is suspect, although I don’t think anyone has disappeared as of yet.

Ultimately the question that will be answered here is that of who exactly the politicians we purportedly elected serve. If the screaming of countless individuals into their inboxes and voicemails falls on deaf ears, but the campaign dollars of large corporations are taken under serious consideration, then we’ll know we’ve lost. The question here is not whether or nor the government should legislate the internet: it’s whether or not it’s still our government. I suppose we’ll see, and depending on what answer we receive, difficult choices may come in the near future. Let’s just hope that we don’t have to make them.

This country is rapidly becoming ripe for a revolution. It’s come to seem that the choice involved in national elections is merely an illusion. In a conversation, I recently compared voting for president to choosing a toothpaste. Toothpaste, without the minty flavor added, is in fact (relatively) safe detergents. It’s an incredibly bitter anti-bacterial soap. It gets the job done, but it’s vile. Regardless of which minty flavor you choose, you are getting the same incredibly bitter anti-bacterial mouth-soap. So you might have the vanilla-mint-swirl republican, or the cinnamon-mint combo democrat. Either way you’re getting bitter detergents and putting money in the pockets of corporations.

Who knew the world of toothpaste was so depressing?

It’s important to note that the true meaning of revolution is not revolt. It’s not a bloody or violent overthrowing of those in power, but rather a change in the thinking of the citizens of a particular nation. If the ideological revolution can come, perhaps reform is possible. If not, scorched earth may be the order of the day.

So, in closing, call out, tell your local representative to stop SOPA and PIPA. Tell them that the NDAA gives you the willies. See if they listen. Or see if they only care if you come at them with $100 million. Good night and good luck to us all.

RJC


The drugs are after me…

I feel like I’m being hounded by drug manufacturers, or at least those preying on the fact that my recent stories ahve been tales of depression, anxiety, grief, and other psychological horrors. This weekend alone, I’ve received 23 spam comments, from people with “names” like “Buy Lexapro Online!,” “Rispradal,” “Metformin,” “Wellbutrin,” and “Seroquel.” Metformin kind


Drained.

Hello all. In a rare moment of self-indulgence (I’m kidding, this whole thing is a big pile of me-ness), I’m electing to have a bit of a blog on recent activities in my life. I started graduate school two weeks ago. I have been overwhelmed, anxious, sick of the subway, and generally confused since then.


6.10 Finale: Year 33

The boy is now a man. He stands, feet upon the pavement of a bustling Manhattan street. He is successful. He turned his nothingness into purpose, bringing to bear a wealth of skills and emotional detachment to the field his father had excelled in. A floor of a building in downtown New York now bears


6.9: Son’s Memory, Part II

The next morning had yielded a quiet, stale breakfast. The food lay uneaten, cooling and congealing in heaps upon diner flatware. The old man spoke occasionally, remarking on the scenery of the campus and the presumption he held that his hard earned dollars were being put to good use. The son sulked and sweated, expending


Aside: 9/11/11

Everywhere today we are told not to forget. As though we could. Living in the shadow of the Manhattan skyline, I paused and thought today while on a rooftop garage. The Empire State building peered at me from across the river, and I thought to myself: “That skyline is short two buildings.” I was a


6.8 The Son’s Nightmare

He still sometimes dreams of it. The day his father visited him. The day things changed. He sleeps, innocent and firmly tucked beneath sheet and quilt, and the visions come to him. By the end, his face was a mess. Tears left thin salty tracks on his cheeks, his mouth dribbling with spit and rage.


6.7 Letter From The Father: Year 20

Regret is to people what autumn is to leaves. It withers them, takes away what made them what they were. Leaving behind crooked husks. She’s died. She’s gone and dead. After the boy left, the calls came further and further apart. He’d found a new life and she was left here, in the wreckage. Empty


6.6 Graduation

Fifteen years ago. The boy stood smiling for photographs, blue gown draped over his gangly frame. He had to keep adjusting the tassel which swung from the front of his cap. It was getting in his eyes, synthetic fibers tickling his nose. He stood at the front of a crowd assembled, and delivered a valedictory


Random note…

Had to correct a few spell-check induced errors in that last one, so please click through and read it on site. The RSS version will likely contain those errors. Including, but not limited to, the father leaning up against “the ham.” Which sounds awesome, but is not at all what I meant. Le sigh. This