al

My prince he never got back to me.

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But anyway, I've been...

well, it doesn't really matter.

The point is, I'm just not smart enough to work at DARPA, fucking awesome as it might be. I have neither the skills or the patience to even attempt it. The NSA doesn't want me. Of course they don't fucking want me.

No, no, it's time to put it behind me. There are other things I would be good at, and it's time to do those things instead, to do something I can do rather than being sad about the fact that I'm hopelessly underqualified (both technically and mentally) to pursue that which ignites my passion, that which makes me burn inside, long and slow, so hot it gives me goosebumps, so beautiful I cry.

No, no, it's time to do something useful. I'm really irked right now and I want to change things, you know, like punk rock changed our lives... well, not really, but the idea of a "free speech zone" makes me want to express myself in such a way that might result in bodily harm to whomever came up with the idea in the first place. From what I was taught in school I came to believe that American soil is a "free speech zone", and dammit, that's my right.

It's my right to criticize the government without fear of persecution.

But you might not know that if you saw that The Dixie Chicks were gone after for saying they were ashamed that the president was from Texas.



Tell you what, I'm ashamed too.

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