It's funny to think how ANGRY I was at the system yesterday.

There are thirty-something people in the FBI that speak any Arabic at all.
Fluently? Somewhere in the teens.
WTF!?

Now let's talk about Guantanamo's child.

Captured at FIFTEEN years old. Fifteen?!?
Charged of five war crimes, one of which is killing a soldier....
That's basically the only one. The others are versions of that.
But I honestly can not understand the logic behind killing a soldier being a war crime.
I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't like war BECAUSE I don't like killing.
But hello? That's what war is! If none of them killed our soldiers there would be no "war" for the "crime" to take place in.
It's inherently contradictory.
I think the deal is... We don't admit that there is actually a war by declaring it so we can make up the rules as we go along, like so. No. I really just can't understand except to the degree of Mista Bush having no respect for the simple rule of law.

Back to the guy's story. So there was a massive exchange of fire, 5 member of the fifteen year olds family/ friends/ whatever were killed in it. The soldiers come in, he's hiding, a grenade is thrown.
His guilt was never in question until like, last week, when it was leaked that there was actually one other person alive in the house at the time, a detail which, presumably, they were not planning on releasing at all.
Dirtbag, much?
That other person who was alive at the time is no longer.
But... when you've got a couple dozen US army guys complete with helicopter assistance and 5 of your family member just done got killed and you're a pre-teen? At that point I'd consider anything you do self-defense. There would be no repercussions for one of those white guys who don't even speak your language popping a bullet in you and an Afghan boy is going to expect even less of them than we do.

I don't know why I'm trying to argue anything because I'm failing miserably anyhow and, if you're not completely biased from the get-go, you should reach the same conclusion just knowing the facts.

Poor kid.
If you want you can even add
Poor ((probably) brainwashed) kid.

When I talk about this I catch myself using words and phrases I HATE.
Words and phrases the other side usually uses.
When you start hearing ME using words like "Rule of law" and "justice" you know something has gone VERY VERY wrong.

We're in violation of who knows how many treaties involving child-soldiers.
Our constitution is obliterated.
WTF!?


But back to voting.
I've been such a bum. I didn't even work the polls. But my mom did.
And when I got there she was midway talking to the most adorable old man who asked her to fill out his candidate ballot choice thingy for him saying THREE count 'em THREE times "I want to vote for the pro-choice candidates. Just make who are the pro-choice candidates" AWWWW!!!
I don't feel too bad though, cuz I mean... I did put in a few dozen hours for Roy Carter over the months before this one when I started bummin
and since the General Election will probably be my LIFEEEEEE
especialllly since I'll be at American
I'm content to bum for now.

"if you forgot for a moment who you were....
if you forgot for a moment everything you told yourself you believe
and only had the stuff you know left over
would you still feel the same about everyone?"

They Fear You Because You Are Young.
They Fear You Because You Are The Future.
How Fearful They Must Be That They Shoot You Children?
How Powerful You Must Be That They Fear You So Much?

You Are Powerful Because You Are The Generation, That will Be Free!
The Violence, The Beatings, The Torture, The Killings
All This Is The Birth Pain Of Our Free Nation.
Please, God, May I Live To See It.
But If I Don't, I see It Now On Your Faces Like The Light Of the Rising Sun
And My Heart Leaps Within Me
As If I, Too, Was Young Again.

And I Know--Oh, Yes, I Know Freedom Is Coming Tomorrow.
Power! Is Ours!
Let It Come Back! IAfrika!
IAfrika! Let It come Back!
May Our Children Rest In Peace.
Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust.

From The South Afrikan Musical "Sarafina" after a mass killing of black students by the Boers during the era of Apartheid.

I think I'm gonna vote for Hillary.
I think I'm excited about it.

I don't know for sure, but there's not much point in asking me later because, whatever I say, there's a good chance I'm lying to you.

I really enjoy lying, I think. As in, the feeling of it... because it's a rush. But I don't like it. I don't believe in doing it to people you truly care about, though I've become looser with that than I used to be. That's something I think about a lot lately. I also don't like it when it becomes routine, a hassle, inconvenient, tiresome, drudgery. That's what lying to your parents is like... probably because it's never about anything worth lying about, that you should have to lie about. So, I didn't go to school today? What's it to ya? What massive life-changing learning experience did I miss out on?

I'm reading Fight Club. It's pissing me off because every line of it is in the goddamn movie so what's the point?

I remember in 11th grade when I said to Julie that I wished I was Monica Lewinsky (or something to that degree) and the entire class heard including Mr. Kuhn. That always happened in that class. That was funny.

I remember this year when we took a poll in Fischer's of the primary candidate we'd vote for and I looked him straight in the eye and said, "McCain" and he looked out me with new eyes, like a proud father, and said "Really," and I said, "Really" and he wrote my vote on the board while half the class stared at me shocked and, as soon as he turned his back, I looked at a member of my corner with an indignant shake of the head, "No!" Now that's the kind of lie I like. That was funny.

I'm taking so many drug right now, I feel like I should be on Medicare. And I'm not even sick. Weird, huh? This morning I woke up and was touching my ear, looked down and my hand was covered with blood. I was pissed cuz it totally didn't hurt and I thought it was cuz I'd let Bobby play with my piercing yesterday because I realized with shock yesterday that it didn't hurt at all for the first time since I got it pierced in December thanks to the docs infection meds and he'd always wanted to play with it (wow, that's a hard-core run-on. It is so cool that "run-on sentence" is made with a compound/ run-on word. Like how "lisp" is made with the most "lisp"able word of all time). But then I realized I'd just slit my hand open on nothing in particular... and by nothing in particular I mean my hazardous waste infested wreck of a room/ bed.

There's no place like home.
Yay! Jason's home!

BOBBY