anger, misery / you'll suffer unto me

[rone]

I'm tired of being angry.

I'm angry because of how the whole soccer team thing fell out.  I'm angry because of this Bucaram bullshit.  I'm angry because our government is just about as shameful as Ecuador's — and i'm normally one who scoffs at bleeding-heart liberals who carry on about how 'ashamed' they are to be an American these days, but mother-FUCK!  Years of lies, obfuscations, misdirections, shamelessness, unaccountability, and manipulation from the democratically elected leaders of this country, the majority of which belong a political party that will not only not remove a clear and obvious criminal from their ranks (yes, Tom Cornholing DeLay, i'm talking about you), but actually aid and abet his immorality, all while the party in opposition is as ineffective as a sorority girl on GHB and the media watches the proceeding date rape like drunken frat brothers who think that maybe they should intervene, but damn, their bro is getting some action, maybe they oughta cheer him on!

Lastly, i'm angry at myself because i'm in a hell of a slump at work and in my creative efforts.  Anger used to sustain me in both, long ago, but i'm not young and single anymore (so did caffeine, i guess; no surprise there, i'm sure there's some connection).  Anger was what i turned to in college when i decided that being depressed wasn't good for me.  But i'm burned out.  I think that this is what i was trying to get at a few days ago.  I want to be at peace.  I want to not be angry anymore.  But how can i fucking help it when it feels that the world is truly conspiring against my inner peace?  Shutting myself out of the world is just security through obscurity, and i am not an island.

WE ARE ALL ONE PEOPLE, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES.  QUIT FUCKING AROUND.

Comments

[tarian.livejournal.com]

[rant ahoy!]
Yeah, I'm there. I do depression because I can't handle anger, in sort of the way that your average pussy teenager drinks wine coolers because he can't handle liquor.

I'm pissed off at my industry, the inheritors of the best and brightest the country had to offer; and they've turned all of that legacy into a Teat Machine, perpetuating unsolved problems because that's where the money is. Nothing like working out of desire to come up with a solution; "It's a paycheck" are the three words leading directly to the seventh circle of hell, as far as I'm concerned.

I'm depressed that the leader of the so-called Free World is an anencephalic chimpanzee, and apparently my country is happier that way. Not that there were candidates, mind; but the great howling void at the top has the jackals claiming the treasury in ways that are normally confined to the pages of cheap romance novels.

I'm even more depressed that, if history is anything to go by, this isn't even an aberration. Look at the present reorganization in Iraq; compare with the islamic revolution in Iran. Contrast further with the encouragement that the US has historically provided to totalitarian regimes in Argentina, Peru, Panama. In rough chronological order. Ten bucks says regardless of who gains power in Iraq during the current round of "free elections", we're back over there reorganizing things again within the next twenty years.

Hell, that's not very sporting. Make it ten years.

I'm some combination of edgily amused, irate, and lethargic over the irony associated with having dedicated my life to the twin concerns of attempting to prevent the human race from extincting itself, and attempting to propagate the species to other worlds; when to most observers, said human race is collectively bent on demonstrating why it deserves no such thing.

Mmm. Luckily, I'm enough of a mad scientist that I can lose myself in the process, and forget the monstrosity of a species for which I'm supposedly being a foster parent. Toys. Yay, toys.

Rick Boucher of the Fightin' Ninth in Virginia

[mouseworks.livejournal.com]

He beat a Republican like a gong in all but two counties, sometimes by the same percentage points that his voters turned themselves out for Bush.

Fights the entertainment industry's stranglehold on intellectual property forever, fights to get wireless, retraining, and relief for the victims of International Capitalism, and has been doing it year in year out for 11 to 12 terms.

Quiet guy off in the corner of nowhere, not a complete good guy since some of the rehab money goes to industries who are cherry-picking their work forces and move on when someone else sells themselves cheaper.

And there's a Marxist recreational basketball team in Danville, Virginia.
Not Yankees who've moved there, but locals in a milltown.