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“Those who desire to give up freedom in order to gain security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one.” - Ben Franklin

Angry isn’t strong enough a word to describe what I’m feeling right now. I’m fuming, seething, frothing at the mouth with angst and contempt for our elected officials. It used to console me to think that I didn’t vote for them; but our Democrat-majority congress has proven to me today that party affiliation is irrelevant. In times of hardship democrats and republicans, liberals and conservatives alike can come together to pass legislation that legitimizes the illegal actions of members of their elite little club.

Today Congress passed the amended FISA (Federal Intelligent and Surveillance Act) act which, in essence, legitimizes warrentless wiretaps, searches, and seizures against citizens of the United States. You know, the kind of thing that the 4th Amendment to the United States Constitution protected us against. This bill not only grants new powers to the federal government, but also grants immunity to the President of the United States as well as the telecoms he used to perform illegal wiretaps against citizens during his administration. You can argue that he did what he did for national security. You can argue that it was in our own best interest for these laws to be broken. But that doesn’t change the fact that a felony was committed by the President of the United States. It’s immoral, irrational, and dangerous to allow our President to change the law in order legitimize his own criminal activities. If this doesn’t upset you, you need to wake up.

By the way: Obama, “Mr. Change”, Mister I-Will-Hold-The-Telecoms-Responsible, voted FOR the amended FISA bill, backpedaling 360 degrees from his previous position. If you think he’s the change this country needs, you’ve got another thing coming.

The New York Times covered this whole debaucle. Anyone want to join me in DC soon? It’s time to take out the fucking trash…

Update: FISA isn’t just about phone calls, this is about your Internet traffic being monitored as well. When they’re done with the terrorists, what’s stopping them from coming after Internet pirates and other armchair criminals?

Hello, is there anybody in there? I haven’t updated my blog in what seems like months, but I’m going to make an effort to write more often from now on.  I’ve just been so busy lately that it’s been impossible to find the time to squeeze out an update.

For example, this weekend I single-handedly dismantled a terrorist network and assassinated the rogue Russian diplomat that controlled them.  In 18 hours of game play I won the war on terror.  How’s that for a withdraw timetable, Mrs. Pelosi?  Just set Iraq to Normal Difficulty and send me in; I’ll find Bin Laden and the WMD’s and be home in time for dinner. Perhaps Call of Duty 4 is going to my head; but if it’s wrong for an adult to wear camouflage an cookware on his head while camping out in front of the television all day screaming expletives at imaginary terrorists, I don’t really want to be right.

Playstation 3 could possibly be the end of what little motivation I had left.

I did manage to pry myself away from the war on terror long enough to go out with some friends last night.  Originally we planned on visiting the End Zone in State College, but half of our group bitched out before even we left town.  You know what they say: you can please some of the people all of the time and you can please all the people some of the time, but some people wait all week for better plans to come up and scumbag you at the last second.  That is what they say, right?  Don’t worry, I’m not bitter or anything.

So I go along with my roommate, his twat du juor, and one of his friends to Williamsport for dinner and a wild night on the town.  At some point we decided that it was worth the hour drive to eat at a restaurant that not only exists in our own town but isn’t even worth eating at anyway, so we pull in to Ruby Tuesdays to stuff our gullets. Apparently no one was listening to my infomercial for Ichiban’s Japanese steakhouse on the ride up, because I really wanted to go there instead.
After dinner we went to a bar called Benji’s.  There was nothing particularly special about Benji’s except that I got to see a lady in a wheelchair dancing, or as I like to call it, “treading imaginary water.”  I chuckled a little bit at first. Then I realized that it was actually really great that this woman wasn’t letting her disability ruin her fun and that I’m an awful person for finding her situation funny.  I’m also a bad person for secretly wishing she would have tried to ride the mechanical bull, but seriously, who can blame me?

Eventually we had mocked everyone at Benji’s and were forced to entertain ourselves elsewhere, so we drove down the street to the Cell Block. The Cell Block is not my kind of bar.  In fact I would have enjoyed myself more had they never converted it from a prison to a dance club.  Coincidentally I was tempted to shank half the people there, but it’s harder to break skin with the swizzle stick from a cocktail than you might think, especially when the people you want to shank are wearing a protective popped-collar which greatly inhibits your ability to make the shanking count.

Chuck’s girl spent much of the night dancing with an old man that looked like a bulimic Santa Claus. This guy looked as though he would crawl down your chimney and eat the cookies and milk, then proceed to gag himself with a candy cane he took from your Christmas tree.  He had a funny little dance that I’m hoping someone caught on camera.

Chuck’s friend Ryan was accosted by a drunk girl who made out with him all night at the bar.  Can I call it accosted? I guess that depends on whether or not she was cute.  I was accosted by a girl in Shamokin once, but she was large and I was too drunk to scream rape.  Ryan’s make-out buddy was cute, at least seen through the lenses prescribed by Dr. Jack Daniels.

But at the end of the night she ditched him, and that actually made me angrier than it made him.  I was appalled at the lack of follow through this girl presented.  If you’re going to be a beer slut then be a beer slut. Don’t get cold feet at 2:00 A.M. and go home with your boyfriend instead of the random guy you spent the night getting horning-up. Show some dedication! This girl was a disappointment to bar rats across the nation, and I was sure to let her know before we parted ways.

The evening ended with a scenic drive home through Lycoming, Union, and Snyder counties.  You know you never really appreciate the natural beauty of Pennsylvania’s highways until some drunk broad makes you stop at every mile marker to spit up Long Island Iced Teas.  I went to bed with a new appreciation of the Department of Transportation’s craftmanship, and a renewed disdain for college kids.

The time has finally come.  I’ve reluctantly decided to sell my Jeep so that I can afford to put more money toward my student loans and, hopefully by the end of the year, be free of college dept.

The Jeep I am selling is a 2006 Jeep Wrangeler 4×4 65 Anniversary Edition.  It’s a standard Jeep Wrangler with a bunch of fancy additions, including a Sirius Satellite radio, 7 speakers, a subroofer, a flip-up soft top, and whole bunch of other fantastic features.  On top of that, there are still 18,000+ miles or 22 months left on the warranty.

If you are interested in checking out my Jeep, I’ve uploaded a PDF of my in-window advertisement as well as the CarFax report which shows a flawless vehicle history.  Check them out and get at me if you’re interested.

Jeep Information
CarFax Vehicle History Report

You can’t mix and match religions. You just can’t.

Last night at the bar I met a woman who was, on first impressions anyway, perfectly normal and seemingly quite sweet. By met, of course, I mean I was eavesdropping on a conversation she was having with Trish. She said she worked at a nursing home, a profession I give her a lot of credit for choosing because, frankly, old people bug me out even when they’re healthy. Trish asked her how she handled the stress and emotion of being surrounded by the sick, dying, and occasionally dead and this is when the conversation got heavy and I had to chime in. The woman stated that she wasn’t bothered by the disease and mental illness eating away at her patients because “they chose it for themselves.”

That’s a bold statement. After all, Alzheimer’s (one particular disease e she mentioned) isn’t an illness you choose or even acknowledge as an acceptable risk as does a smoker with lung cancer. In fact I’d imagine that, given a choice, many of her patients wouldn’t choose to live their final days suffering the indignity of having someone else wipe their assholes, let alone the pain and confusion of forgetting the faces of one’s own children.

So why, pray tell, does this woman believe that these patients choose their afflictions?

According to her when a person dies their soul is given a choice between being reborn in order to learn new lessons in the physical world, or moving on to their final destination. Many of us are born hundreds of times, she claims, until we decide that we’re enlightened enough to leave the Earth. The interesting point to me is that we actually decide our own fate, as though anyone would choose to be diseased or handicapped. Personally if I had to choose my own reincarnation I’d come back as a pair of Jessica Biel’s underwear, not an Alzheimer’s patient.

The real icing on the cake is what she said when we asked her religion: METHODIST.

I calmly said to myself: “no, no you’re not fucking Methodist you ignorant hag.” I really don’t care what people believe so long as they don’t push it on me. (Yes I know I’m a bit of a hypocrite since I’m more than happy to tell folks I think their beliefs are bunk.) But my point is this: why claim any religious affiliation if you’re going to mix and match totally incompatible philosophies to suit your own tastes? What makes this hodgepodge spiritual melting pot philosophy any better than my own secular outlook? The religious claim I simply conjure my morals out of my own ass, while good-hearted folks like this woman are force-fed theirs from assholes like Silvia Brown.

Did I forget to mention that part? The woman I’ve been discussing follows Silvia Brown, the Montel William’s weekly quack psychic guest who claims occult knowledge on such issues as telekinesis, life after death, angels, ghosts, UFOs, and magical leoplorodons from Candy Mountain (I am making that last one up). Personally I tend not to believe the teachings of anyone quoted as saying “Screw ‘em. Anybody who believes this stuff oughta be taken,” but I guess that’s just that crazy brain of mine talking again. It does, however, make me wonder what other holy men and women have said out of earshot of their flocks.

Last night I created a new blog called User Proof on my professional site.  User Proof is a blog with computer advice and support aimed at bridging the knowledge gap between beginners and computer experts. If you’re a beginning or novice computer user you should check it out!