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Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Goodbye, Farewell, So long!



I am officially discontinuing this blog.

I started ZSA when I was still in college. During the quixotic years of 2008, before I had love, before I had a real job, before I even really got over all the crap that brought me into the blogging world. Since then, I've written 555 posts, garnered over 150k pageviews, brought in over 50 dedicated followers, and gotten into more internet drama than I care to admit...

But this blog just isn't really me anymore. I've changed and stayed the same so much that I hardly recognize the guy who started this blog even as much as I am the guy who started this blog.

So it goes.

That said, I'll miss this place. I really will. But now it's really only useful to me as a time-capsule. A collection of words, images, and memories. Most of all memories. I really do love me some nostalgia, some of that sweet, sweet melancholic goodness. But there are things afoot in my life, in my world, in my self, that this blog can't contain anymore.

Also, it's too public. When I started this, nobody knew who I was. Now... everybody and their mom knows who I am. And now, of course, so does Big Brother. (Hello 1984 2014!)

I can't deny a few things in this blog kind of embarrass me. And to those who happen across it, please judge mercifully. I was an idiot and too smart for my own good. I knew too much and too little. I'd suffered too much and was still working on that whole empathy thing... I was a NiceGuy(tm) and at the same a classic BadBoy. I wrote really shitty poetry and thought myself a social scientist. I was in college -- what can I say?

Anyways... I'll miss you ZSA. I'll miss the flame wars even. I'll miss the trolls -- if only because as long as you feed them they always come back! But mostly I'll miss the history, of how this place makes me feel and how this place was, in part, where I grew up all over again.

Now, it's time to move out. Take care everyone...

Cheers!

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

American Exceptionalism is really American Hypocrisy


After listening to the news around the prisoner exchange with the Taliban for Bowe Bergdahl, I have come to the conclusion that so many people are just so full of it. Seriously, totally, completely, and utterly. Full. Of. Shit.

We talk about supporting the troops and yet, when we rescue a POW, suddenly we're pissed because it should matter whether the guy was allegedly a deserter or not. As if it's okay to leave our people behind if we don't like them. (Although, honestly, I can't blame the guy if he did desert. Our war in Afghanistan was a pretty terrible piece of work. We're not exactly a bastion of freedom, liberty, and justice for all over there.)

And, funny enough, this hypocrisy is coming from the Right, from the very people who supposedly are the biggest supporters of the troops. Which is equally ironic given the recent VA scandal that was really caused by the GOP refusing to fund the VA after our troops got back from a pointless war that the GOP paid on an already maxed-out credit-card.

Welcome to the effing Monkey House, where American Exceptionalism becomes American Hypocrisy. We pretend we care about the troops, but, in reality, we don't give a damn rat's ass about 'em except to spew vitriol their way if they interfere with our comfortable narrative of ignorant bliss. We like to think we're the best but we're honestly among the worst, especially right now.

Sorry not sorry: but the other important factor is also that far too many people hate Pres. Obama simply because, no reasons required, and will get angry any anything he does no matter what. And why is that? There are a few reasons: racism, nativism, radical ignorance, and plain stupidity.

But it all comes down to one simple fact -- people refuse to take fucking responsibility for the problems in this country. Whether those people are in Congress, in Texas, or in California. We think we're special and throw tantrums when things don't go our way, making excuses and half-truths to mend those hurt fee-fees and assuage our guilty conscience, because we're too big of effing cowards to admit that we're not special and reality isn't gonna bend to our national narcissistic personality disorder.



Cheers

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Let the Days Run Down / I Love the Night



I love the night as only my wife, the moon, and the neighborhood Taco Bell can know. I love the night because the light is softer. I love the night because the stupid people have all gone to sleep. I love the night because it makes scary movies scarier. I love the night because the moon winks at me in her crescent manger. I love the night because it shakes the shackles off my wordsmithy, letting me write like I was born to build novels.

Gawd... the night is my favorite time in 24 hours. I can eat, dream, play, love, and work with the abandon of a wild thing. And, after all, the night was made for lovers.

I've also been listening to a lot of The Decemberists.


Monday, April 21, 2014

We Need Only be Saved from Ourselves




Sometimes I think it's better to deal in fiction rather than truth. At least you can write better stories than the swill that passes for "fact" among this country's citizenry, aided and abetted by all too often bankrupt journalism and a wholly disenfranchised electorate. They say speak the truth, even if your voice shakes... I say speak the truth and paint it black. Because words are wind that cuts to the bone. I say speak the truth and run. Because truth to power is death. I say speak the truth and never let them see you do it. Else they'll call it lies because fools believe only they could possibly have discovered that the world is round.

Friday, February 28, 2014

Thus Spake Zarathustra



They say that if God didn't exist, it would be necessary to invent him. They also say God is dead.

Personally I don't think God exists. I hope God exists; I pray God exists. But I know it's a convenient fiction I keep faith with because living in a world without even the ridiculous possibility of a higher good is just... well, sad.

So here I sit, and type, and chew on my thoughts as an old leatherneck does tobacco.