1:56pm. Hey, President Gump, you don't have to wear an implant now that you're in public office, right? So you don't have to listen to all the irrational hate directed against politicians. That sounds fair. So why do I have to listen to a chorus of 'oofs' from innocently defending my copyright on the internet? Why do I have to hear 'tycoof' when I listen to my song Tycoon? Why do they insult me with someone else's signed dick? Why did someone insist that 'that's my hark' in my video for my song the Wayfarer? I already said it's the same as I shared it in 2007. Why do I have to repeat myself? Did the inventors of our copyright protection apparatus intend for original artists to suffer prison slurs in their brains from frauds who steal their work? I hope this system is free enough of your influence to drag Taylor Swift, bruised and bleeding, before her cheerleaders on FOX News to show how much their lies contradict reality, and to warn them that they might be next if they keep supporting fraud on the public airwaves. Here's my earlier post of today again. How long did it take to get hacked? Will I have to post it again after this?
Yesterday's thoughts. The library was closed for the holiday.
Monday, May 20, 2019 (Victoria Day)
I wanted to post this in the library today, but I see that the old battle-ax wanted to give us a holiday. She sure showed Oscar Wilde, eh? 'Mister Wilde, you have leave to poke the street urchins, but not the aristocracy.' And here's her personal warning to Jack the Ripper: 'If you disembowel one more prostitute...' Oh, please don't get upset or anything. I'm just horsing around for a smile. After 20 years of sharing my thoughts in this website, have those comedy frauds learned how to do that yet? I need to make myself smile when I think about earlier times and compare them to 'the now' because those creeps only know how to depress me.
Over my long term as a songwriter, I was occasionally compared to Dylan. While I appreciate my name being mentioned in the same breath as that of a famous poet, I'm not sure how apt it is. Besides my being a bit more of a singer than he is, as my vocal tracks in the above recording hopefully prove, our poetry is separated by a wide chasm of transformative years. His came from an enlightened age when more people read books and we were winning more rights for ourselves, while mine belongs to the current anti-intellectual Age of the Image, in which people glance at colourful tabloids and stare into gadgets as their rights are all legislated out of existence. In Dylan's time, you turned on the TV and saw the front line fighting in a bloody war; but now you would just see an embedded reporter's face, surrounded by uniforms, as he praises the glorious success of his country's military. Back then the enemy was a big powerful state with ICBM's pointed at us; today it's whoever/whatever the government singles out as a threat. It's been quite a different world for me than it was for Dylan. He had support for his protest and got rich with it, while mine got plagiarized and used against me as black propaganda by Pentagon owned networks and corrupt stars. His time was sympathetic to poets and freethinkers. I would have flourished in his time, I think, but instead I struggle in this one - and swear I heard his voice in a recording of Close/'Grand' Rendezvous on the radio when it was first stolen out of my 2007 YouTube account by Blue Rodeo before I settled on its final title. I exclusively added the song to Blue Rodeo's mounting tally of painful violations so I wouldn't suffer from continuing Dylan comparisons, but if he was consciously in on the crime, I hope he got punished for it.
The bottom line with rights, of course, is that they cost money. People who know the ecstasy afforded by the full measure of freedom have learned that there are sweeter rewards in this life than money. For them the choice of rights over money is a no-brainer. This is why I think that certain free speech zones, such as possibly this very Blogger account, are being concealed, censored, or closed off entirely from the general public by fearful authorities. If you don't know what you're missing, you can't feel deprived of it. But I think if more people exercised their rights and explored their freedoms in the pursuit of happiness, as I do here, they'd value such abstract things enough to accept their material cost - even while being constantly pummelled with commercials that tell us we can't be happy without money. At least, that's how it looked to me up to 1980, the year Ronald Reagan invited his friend Rupert Murdoch to start broadcasting right-wing opinion as news.
Someone said I need to watch my money. Thanks for the concern, but how can I do that? I don't know the transactions of Mick Jagger and Jay Leno and Mike Myers, etc, etc, for the last twelve years since they cashed in all my property for themselves. Most of you have been busy-busy in your jobs since then, too distracted to see the horror I face every day at the hands of web fiends and brutal broadcasters. I envy you. You only come here for a laugh. But let me tell you: when you live on a fixed income, you know every penny in your bank account from one day to the next as the balance slides down to zero before the end of the month. As I said, I don't like being on the dishonesty program here, now that I know I'm probably not schizophrenic, but I just need to try to save enough to get a normal life started somewhere else. I hope it won't take too long. As for the cost to the taxpayer, I'm sure it's more than covered by just one of these wealthy stars' tax deductions for a charitable donation of money that came from stealing my music and/or comedy.
Red titles below were recorded in the last six months or so. I lost twelve years of royalties on them - so far. I'm sure Ooga Balooga was a drive time favourite. In advertising we learned that the most commercial spots on the radio schedule are while people are driving to or from work. The music playing in those slots earns the most money from advertising, and Ooga serenaded drivers with that resonant line, ride the highway home. So what slot got paid for this very commercial song which I wrote, FOX News? Your idol, Taylor Grift? Is anyone watching my money? How much has she spent of it so far, Bill O'Reilly? Maybe she didn't get locked up and punished enough times yet. And neither did Seth MacFarlane apparently. Do we need to go into the double digits on that figure for each star before I get a permanent break from their destructive presence on the public airwaves? Seth's show's got a character voiced by a cute Mick Jagger fan - not the Russian who was kind to me. Hey, it's not a dirty crime when these stars and shows steal my things and molest me and my fans with them because look: they're all on TV, being decent. That must mean that I'm indecent, and that I never suffered and reported a life of misery as broadcasting's biggest fraud victim for the last 12 years, I guess. And hundreds of thousands of you didn't read it as I shared it almost every day, right up to the present, right? What were we thinking? Could it be somewhere here in my three thousand posts that they're always hiding or gaming with a new hack job to substantiate their BULLSHIT with more BULLSHIT?
How are the Christian networks, by the way? Christ hated false idols, you know. He may have died for all humanity, but he hated false idols. Looks like your favourite stars would have ripped off his most popular parables. And then maybe he would have been seen by all as a 'hack' instead of being taken seriously enough to become your Messiah. Or do you present a Christian appearance strictly to shear his flock?
And how's your star-loving real estate tycoon? Does the White House need any more floors? Better keep a close eye on that home mortgage. You can't blame me for being resentful over how these pack animals on TV have been helped back up on their paws again on his dispassionate watch. Their multi-injured victim could have used a little more honest support, too, by now.
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