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Thursday, July 01, 2010
Penny for your
thoughts
SPEND
SOME PENNIES. CountryPunk is feeling mellow. I'm not. I'm fed up.
The weird one had this to say: Let me guess? Early next week you will pound the shit out of the concept of "collegiality". If I am to guess, you will go so far as to say that those who do not agree with you politically, could not possibly, not EVER, be considered a "friend". You will go on to pound your drum of nationalism, as seen "properly" ONLY through red-tinted glasses, and only seen from some red-hot, high perch such as yours. Now let's talk about your "fans" for just a minute... You haven't called on us to be "collegial". In fact, you've only called on us to be in agreement with you, to be "productive" on developing new and improved websites purporting your view, or TO BE SILENT! Yet I still love you, and here's why. You are the BEST "Wizard of Oz"! Yeah. Wizard of Oz. That's me. Except I'm not hiding, figuratively or literally, and my thunder and
lightning are not pre-recorded special effects. I'm not a journalist,
so I have no need for
collegiality. I have no authority other than my thoughts, so I have no
need to ask for compromise, consent, or discussion for the good of the
group. Furthermore, my glasses are not tinted. They're just 2X reading
glasses, so that I can read the fine print. Anyone who seriously wants
to contend with me can add up all his comments and pit them against my
accumulated archives
(only 2 millions words worth about everything).
If they do that, they'll see that only a military sharpshooter will
ever take me out. Sarcasm won't. Crazy non sequiturs won't. LSD
hallucinations won't. Appeals to Rodney King "Can't we all get along?"
logic
won't. 'Nice' is not a word that has any meaning here. InstaPunk
is, always has been, and always will be about destroying the enemy. Who
is everyone who disagrees with us or, more specifically, me. Which
should be a disincentive to nonsense (comments)
like this: HOLLYWOOD, notwithstanding.
The punks show keen eyes, more often than not. Particularly for their movies. The MOVIES! Where we live forever! I think I will be a butterfly today. The rest of you can be vampires or werewolves...unless you choose to be toys? Note: The toy soldiers die first! The cowboy and BUZZ? lol Well, you get my point. This movie will go on as long as it needs to go on. And just like musical chairs, one of us is going to have to give up our chair in rather random fashion. And if, by chance, I am lucky enough to find a seat? I could be convinced to give it up for IP, if he would only stop whining, for cripes sake! Musical chairs is a game that suits some. Usually those who want to
fit in. I don't. Most of the people who comment here know what they're
getting. What's that? Ammunition. They're not fans. They're not
journalists. They're citizens. They're mad. And they're free. Free to look elsewhere for better insight. Wherever they find it.
This isn't a club. Or a cult. Or a dream. Or even a movie. It's just punks thinking and living on an electronic page. Usually,
thought and emotion are separated here. But both are necessary if
anyone is to see life-felt conviction. The proof that it's not some
intellectual game. (Whining? Really? It can't be a slap at me, and if
it's a slap at my friend CountryPunk, I'll be going home with a
windpipe in my briefcase. He may not care, but I do.) The ones who are here know why they're here. They don't much care
about random snipers. Any, all,
of us can be taken out by random snipers. No big deal. Some of us will
be. Even by a bad pennysworth of ill will. It's been known to happen. What won't happen is that any of us will change our minds because
someone jeers in the crowd. If the presumptive sages understood that,
they'd give up trying to sound superior without a shred of evidence to
back them up. As we've said repeatedly, we don't ban people from commenting. But
we reserve the right to make you outcasts. A thing that happens to the
stupid, the pretentious, and the pointlessly annoying. Some free advice. Its real worth? Pretty much like the catcalls from the peanut gallery. One penny. |
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