Bankers rule the globe

I’m so upset right now with monetary policy, that I thought I would take a brief moment of sarcastic delight. I need one to get my mind away from information that has come to me about the world’s banking system.

The world banking system is a topic that I’m sure I’ll get all heated about in another post or two. But for now I’d just like to imagine a world, of equality in its purest form. The antithesis of a world banking system, and how rediculious it would be. You see, I’m so frustrated about the rich getting richer and the poor getting extinct that I need some emotional leverage against my fondness to help my fellow man.

I demand a fair world out of a longing for a candid existence. Does that make me a hypocrite? So I probe my accusatory mind of the atrocities of a world banking system. The residual angst is: what would I fancy?

So I reckon take the wealth of the world and divide it equally among six billion seven hundred thirty five million four hundred eighty six thousand nine hundred and thirty eight of us, and what do you get?

You get a piece of toilet paper and a slice of bologna. They’re yours to do with as you please. Choose wisely. I’d go bologna then TP myself. But that’s just me. For some reason I can’t help but think I’m destined for a greater purpose.

I deserve more than you; is a phrase we can all get on board with. If polled 100% of people would say they deserved better than 75% of the people. So how do we get there?

What if everybody had a yacht? Wouldn’t that suck? It would. Why would you even use one if everybody had one?

“Hey do you want to go out on my yacht this weekend?”

“No, fuck yachts everyone has one.”

Would you go to your friend’s house with the Wii, if you had one? I doubt it. If everyone had a Wii would you play it? I doubt it.

If everybody didn’t have anything would nothing matter anymore? Would we all be so fucked in the head that we couldn’t talk about anything? If everybody was homeless would it matter anymore?

I think collectively we like it the way it is. And it really sucks to admit it. And if you haven't admitted it yet you really should. Because good like Adam and honest like Eve you're always going to ruin your fellow man. You would do it in an instant to eat for a day. We're not monkeys. We're scaly reptiles. Slithering through the life. Monkeys will pick insects off of each others backs. Reptiles eat others unhatched children.

Some people have shit.
Some people don’t.
Some people get shit.
Some people won’t.

We need the opposite of wealth, destitution to remind us of how rich we are and how far away poverty realistically is.

Granted I still think we’re all getting fucked, but because this is my sarcastic escape from Philanthropic pursuits….. I want a yacht. And I want my first yacht to be cool. And I want owning one to be cool. I want to be the captain and I want that to be cool. It’s only going to be cool, if other people don’t have one. So don’t get one. Because I’m insecure and confrontational, not only will I get a yacht. But I’ll make sure that when I do get one, I’ll have the lake to myself.

I don’t know how to end this though. I want a better life. That’s honest. And if the only real way to define one is through other people living a worse one so be it. I guess we all make that decision at some point. We sacrifice liberty to pay the debt on our soul. That Albatrostic obligation of being an individual. Free will and its price.

A free world, free from every outside copious force would exist with unlimited wants versus limited resources. Any world for that matter has limited resources. Never shall we all own a Wii.

What can I do? Really?

So last night while Barack is winning the election, I sneak outside for a smoke. As always there is a homeless person asking me for change. I really didn't have any to give. I checked all the usual places I would carry change and none was to be found.

This transient is a 50 year old white male, who could really use some help. I guess because I see so many homeless people in Sacramento, I know the difference. The difference between someone who is down on their luck, and someone who has been down on their luck forever.

But what can I do? I can offer him a cigarette. I'm always good for a cigarette. Once when I gave a homeless man a cigarette he said, "So you'll give me lung cancer, but you won't help me get a place to sleep tonight?" I took the cigarette back. I don't need that shit.

So the guy tonight takes my cigarette and lights it. I'm probably the first person who has actually stopped to talk with this guy in quite a while. We're all alone suddenly too. Which is kind of freaking me out. Is he going to try and take what I'm not going to give him? Is he going to find out if I really have any change or not? I always wonder this. I'm probably not careful enough. I'm a big guy, and I would smash a transient's homeless little face in if he ever tried something, but what if they had a knife, or homemade weapon?

So this guy takes the smoke, and he's talking about what he used to do. I think he was a chef, I wasn't really listening. Not until he started breaking my heart. I've never had it broken before. I guess it was the first time, I'd ever put myself in someone else's shoes.

I mean he's 50, he's not dead, speaks well, and worked his whole entire life. He's someone that I know right now, in 20 years. At least exactly like them; exactly like me.

I could see that he was just mad with himself. Completely bonkers about the entire thing. He had wrapped his mind around his situation about a thousand times that day, and several hundred past. What would you do if you were homeless? Stop and think about that one for a moment. You don't have any relatives, money or clean clothes. There's also not a self help book, and you couldn't afford one if there was. What would you do? You'd do everything. Anything. You'd have to, as long as you wanted to live that is. How long would that be though? The will to live would be constantly chipped away at moment after moment.

I tried to give him some advice, but nothing good came to mind. All I could tell him was that I had none of that either. I was all out of change, and I was all out of advice. A lot of good I was.

He just stood there talking to me. I couldn't pull myself away. Because I felt so guilty for the rather meek yet sheltered existence of my own. And because of that flaw I got to hear a most disturbing phrase.

He asked me if I had a gun.

"A what?" I say.

"A gun" This time I hear.

"No I don't have a gun." I was being honest. I didn't know where this was going. Does he have a gun?

"Damn... if you did I'd want you to shoot me in the head."

I know if you're reading this, and listening to Itunes that those are just words on a screen to you. They might even be comical for whatever reason, but tonight they were everything but. They were real, honest and arrogantly brave.

He told me that he was so sick of pan-handling and started to lose it. But then he did the most remarkable thing. He realized that I really was a good person who couldn't help him, and that it was actually troubling me. He caught himself out of the kindness of his heart, and didn't want to show me what being homeless has made him become. He was about to lash loudly and he spared me.

He got himself together, in an instant. It made him feel normal, pretending to be. Pretending is a luxury that people with homes don't even know they have. I saw it in his face. He felt good. He needed that. We parted ways. I've been to that moment about 500 times with other homeless people, and they just go ballistic. But this one, he was different. So I realized that he's a good man too. He's just like me, minus a shower. How many other good people are out there? How many people just like me are out there?

So I've been thinking, and thinking. I couldn't help that guy, but what about the next one? And I don't have any ground breaking ideas just yet. But they're coming. I know they are. I'm brilliant. And if anyone can save the homeless it's me.

Because today I learned there is one thing I will not stand for. And that is having my heart broken again.

Fuck you poverty you're about to be my bitch.

Anti Piracy Day

With the passing of Anti Piracy Day yesterday I feel that I must comment on peer to peer file sharing, Thepiratebay.org and the state of illegally downloading copyrighted material.

I'm typing this by the way on a computer that I bought and paid for. On an Internet connection that I pay for monthly, and on a Microsoft Operating System which I got from a friend two years ago who burned me a copy onto a DVD + R. Which he got from a friend who got it from an Internet site called RETESTRAK.com.

So I stole my operating system? Hardly. I paid for the same version I'm using, I'm just using a version that is tweaked, in a way that Microsoft doesn't want it to be. I like this version so much more that I don't use the one I paid for. And I feel that it is my choice as a consumer to be able to have multiple copies of things I've paid for. What if my original CD broke? Do you think Microsoft would replace it? I don't.

I do however have a 200 gigabyte hard drive, full of things I've never purchased. And I'm adding to it more and more weekly. I feel it is my patriotic duty to illegally download copyrighted materials and I'll tell you why.

The entertainment industry is a scam. It's possibly the largest most fraudulent industry ever. They get you to pay for the concert, they get you to buy a shirt at the concert, 3 beers, a lunch pale, and a parking voucher. And then later they release a CD of a "live" performance of that exact same show for another $15 bucks. Or they get you to come and see the movie, then the sequel, then all the prequels, but wait there's more. There's always more. At Christmas time they're re-releasing something you've already paid for 3 times, but this time Gredo is in a new mask.

Another reason that I illegally download copyrighted materials: monopolies are illegal. There is only one motion picture industry, one music industry. They all hide behind a number of aliases, which propagate the appearance of multiple companies, but they are all ran by a few larger companies. Think about it. There is no other competitive way to buy an album. You have to get it on a CD. You have to buy a movie on a DVD. That's where it is a monopoly. You are forced to believe that there is only one way to do something. And you're forced to believe this why? Because they're ripping us off.

Thepiratebay.org is the most popular peer to peer file sharing site on the planet. It is ran out of Sweden, and if you want the entire history you should go to that site, and type in "Steal this Movie" which is a documentary made by Thepiratebay.org themselves. Sweden is like the Delaware of Europe. The Swedish government does not deem it as illegal to share information.

That's really what happens when you peer to peer. I have a file that you want. And I share the information with you. You can use that information to make a CD, a DVD, or share with others.

Sites like Thepiratebay.org are actually a blessing to the entertainment industry as a whole. They are just not smart enough to realize this. They're so abundantly greedy that they fail to see how successful Internet piracy ultimately makes them.

It is the best form of free advertising that money can't buy. The record industry alone claims that 50 billion dollars are lost through piracy annually. That number seems a bit exaggerated. But what they cannot calculate is the money that it generates. And I bet it's bundles.

I have to look no further than myself to know that they benefit immensely from torrent sites and the Internet in general.

My knowledge of music has expanded a hundred times full since I've been a peer to peer user. I've bought several albums that I never would have bought from artists I would have never ever known, solely because I was able to check them out on a torrent site. The same is true for movies DVDs and even some computer software.

On top of that, I'm a very influential person in other people's entertainment decisions. I see a movie on the Internet that I like, and someone at work asks me "Hey have you seen _____________?" If not for the Internet I would not be able to recommend that they go and check that flick out, because I wouldn't have seen it either.

How about instead of Anti Piracy day, we have real holidays that mean something. Like Anti-Dictator day? Anti fat girls in spandex day....? Something tangible.

I'd really like the feedback on this one folks. What do you think? Am I just another criminal?

The best music video ever?

What other video has George Harrison, Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne? None. Exactly None.

October 27th

With two weeks before the big day, I feel it's important that I leave a couple of clues as to what I want for my birthday.

But I feel that my clues are often too vague, so I'm just gonna spell it out this year.

I want a remote control tank, that has a little army man that rides in it, and shoots little air pellets. Kind of...NO exactly like this one.....

A grape soda baby.

Wait not that kind of Grape Soda Baby. The other kind.



Yeah that's more like it.

Freaked out by the traffic of a very un-busy street, I had to make hasty decisions. The clock was on, and I had to get the best of it. Thirst quenching, my emotions in a dark struggle against my mentality. Parched, with nowhere left to go, my hand found the Holy Grail. The Holy Grail of soft drinks that is.

A grape soda baby! Grape Drink…

I never had one before. The only reason I can even think that I purchased it was because of Dave Chappelle. He said that black people prefer it. And today it hit me. What is the one thing that all the black people I've ever known have in common? They all get high. Every one of them. Every single one of them. Everyone of them I’ve ever met smokes reefer. My tongue is definitely in my cheek by the way.



The reason I had this thought was not because I was on my way to bigotry class; no it was because I too, was high. I was time traveling actually. Back to the third grade. I was third grade, eat the glue, mirrors on my shoes high.


So I was high at the grocery store. The store was kind of freaking me out. And I was trying to think about what could cure my ailment. Since they didn't sell amunition there, my brain went another route.

I started thinking about what someone famous would drink, who is always high. Snoop Dog, Chappelle, Tyson, Mr. T. They all smoke weed. I pity the fool. And that's when in my mind I made the connection. Based on four independent sources. HA!

I had just reached that point where the little pussy voice in my head saw his opportunity to speak. Like he does every time when I get high. He's at the party in my brain, and he see's all of the other voices in my head are high and passed out on cheerleaders. So he decides it's his turn to grab the mic to my inner monolouge.

Telling me things like:

“You should call your mother Jason, it’s been two months.”
“Why did you kick that little kid in the second grade for no reason at all? What was that about?”
“Why didn’t our football coach ever love us?”
“There are other things to do on the internet besides porn.”
“When are you going to lose those twenty pounds you’ve been promising yourself fatty?”
“Why are you high right now? What are you some kind of hippy?”
“What was that noise?”
“Is somebody following me?”
“Oh my god a shadow!”
“Maybe we should run?”
“I think we’d better run?”
“Am I breathing?”
"I don't think I am!"
“Oh my god I’m not breathing!”
“Holy shit take a fucking breath dood!”
“Oh fuck dood we almost suffocated!”

And usually I can just smile his little nappy ass away. He realizes I’m not paying much attention to him, and he goes away. But tonight I couldn’t shake him. His words were criss crossing me like a serrated blade.


The only way to calm him down was to grab a nice cold drink. And while I was searching for the cure to all of my paranoia I saw a grape soda. “Grape Drink!”

Grape Drink works! It saved my life.

The new Mitch Hedberg album and some new strings

During the month of September a new Mitch Hedberg album was released posthumously.

It is possible you don't know who Mitch Hedberg is. I didn't until 2 years ago. He was already dead, and I didn't even know of him. I think that kind of made me like him more. That he was already dead, that I could never go and see one of his comedy specials. All there was, was already out there.

It was always his dream to get an HBO special. Which because of heroin and cocaine he never got to do. But the new album is him on the road work shopping for the special.

It's a different kind of Mitch this time around. These recordings must have been made late in the year 2005. Just before his death. While there still are parts that made you erupt with laughter, there are other parts that are failing miserably. And he doesn't seem like the same Mitch between the routines. He seems troubled, anxious, like he's bored.

It is unfair to judge this as an official album, or really a piece of work that he approved. There were a couple of times during the routine, as a fan of his prior work, I thought he kind of "sold out" to be cliche.



Surprisingly there isn't a lot of Mitch on Youtube.com

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I took the time today to restring my gold Ibanez guitar. I still need to cut the cable excess though. Has anyone seen my wire cutters? *looks around*


It has been a long time. I remember the last time I bought Elixir poly web 80/20 bronze's they were over $30. For one set of strings that is a ridiculous amount of cash. I know. But they sound so warm, fresh and toney.



Anyway because of the economy I was able to get two sets for that price yesterday. So I bought a real thin set of them, to try out for a while. I'm almost certain I'll break the little .10 string in no time. These strings really do make a difference on the overall quality of your music. They enunciate better and break down less frequently.

I almost forgot how beautiful this guitar can sound.

What kind of strings do you use? Why?