Damned If What You're Feeling Isn't Change

Sorry for not posting more, was busy at work this week, trying to kip over a domino or two to mow down chain reactions and make us all less pissed off and free, on average. I'm on a strange mission shared by a few fervent, hidden cranks. We wake up in the morning, and think, "How do I make corporations treat people better? What would force them to reward loyalty, and decrease caller hold times to nothing? How can I keep my people from being turned into chattel? What can I do today to undermine, torment, and use the Divine Right of Capital's force against it?"

On a nicer level, we've been preparing for Lord Baby's 3rd birthday party tomorrow. As HopeSpringsATurtle quite rightly pointed out as she does so many things on her cracking-good blog Deep Confusion, he can no longer be called Lord Baby as of tomorrow, for a baby he is no longer. Lord Toddler? No, he ceased being a toddler long ago, when he started playing soccer with older kids in the park. Mentally, and for that matter physically, he was never a toddler. He skipped over it. I'm open for suggestions.

Will our future selves send Terminators back in time to stop us, and will they look like Arnold Schwarzenegger? These are the kind of things I think of in the shower, or driving in the car. Most non-violently, of course. Sometimes I can't see with the steam coming up in my eyes, or for the traffic lights and fears in my life; as a culture, we're happily drugging ourselves and our children up into abbatoirs. To be frank, part of me thinks of stepping out of that kind of culture, and building an extensive underground bunker in Belize. But over high divides and great distances, I can peek out to see our more sustainable lights.

I see the ends of tunnels, lit by flaming swords. It's not always going to be this way, you see, and we will not be subjugated to alien legal entities. We'll figure them out, decode and get above their data. We're never going to stop and we're going to kick their asses even if it means dying down to a few of us, if our children are any guide we're far too determined and devious, just like the Ace of Base prophesy in their delightful schlag-musik song, "Beautiful Life":

You can do what you want, just seize the day
What you're doing tomorrow's gonna come your way
Don't you ever consider giving up. You will find.

Not much went on this week. Congress approved a bill to get the troops home from Iraq, the White House promised to invoke Executive Privilege, sub-prime housing continued to devolve like a mo-fo, and the Iranians captured 15 British marines. Ok. No big deal. "We can contain the spill, we are built to thrill. Don't worry, be happy." I did not look up real estate plots with natural springs in Fairbanks, Finland, New Zealand, Tierra del Fuego. or Antarctica.

I've stood in Paul Revere's bedroom. It was really small. In addition to what he's famous for, he was a small business-man, raised about twelve kids, and was the best silver-smith in the Western Hemisphere. I wondered, "How the heck did he pull this off?" I don't know, and can't compare. But, yes, these bastards are crazy, and a change is gonna-come. For my small part, I just figured out today how to make one of the world's mightiest corporations do a good thing. It might give us all flaming data-swords, and it won't be able to help itself. Buy low, sell high. ;-)