"I pledge allegiance to none"

Apparently, my last blog about giving up the night life and focusing on my own life was shown to blind eyes.  So now, I'm adding a little bit to it just to tie up a few loose ends.

By quitting the bar scene, I was intending to  leave any and all associated drama and politics behind.  Alas, the aforementioned drama has decided to follow me around.

To alleviate any confusion on this matter, I've decided to lay it all out on here.  (For the record, I'm not exactly singling anyone out on here, but if you think I'm talking about you, I probably am.)

-By saying I'm only occasionally going out, that really does mean only a couple of times a month.  I'm trying to focus my spare time and energy on music.  I don't have the money to be going out, so please stop inviting me.  If the only time we can hang out is at a bar, then I guess we won't be hanging out a lot.  Not my problem.  I made my point clear with the last blog. 

-I will not get in the middle of any petty arguments between friends.  You know what, I won't get in the middle of any serious arguments, either.  I'm not gonna take sides.  Even if I'm the mediator, I still somehow piss someone off that thinks I'm not taking their side.

-I will not get in the middle of any relationship drama.  Don't ask me for advice.  Don't ask me to talk to so-and-so for you.  I have a shitty enough love-life, that I don't need to be spreading my bad ju-ju on someone else's relationship.  If you're fucking around or just plain fucking up, don't tell me.  It's your problem/mistake, not mine.

I've really never had a problem with giving anyone advice, but it seems as though it goes in one ear and out the other, no matter who I'm working with.  I've always been willing to help as a favor, and asked for nothing in return.  If you don't want to hear what I have to say, why are you asking me? 

Here's a simple solution: Don't ask for my help.  Am I being selfish??  You bet your sweet ass I am.  I've bailed you out of your own messes, helped clean them up, and what do I get in return?  Angry phone calls, insensitive texts and e-mails, guilt trips for not being a good enough friend.  I've honestly had it.  If I'm your friend, you sure have a shitty way of showing it.

Again, this is a blanket message, directed at everybody.  If nothing in this blog applies to you, then you've done well not to abuse our friendship, and I truly appreciate you for that.

Thank you.

ACT II

            In my opinion, the wars we are engaging in are a joke.  Plain and simple.  The war in Iraq, the war on terrorism, it's all the same.  Just a bunch of bullshit the public is being fed to keep us from paying too much attention to what is happening domestically.  Unfortunately for our government, far too many of us have bored of this Al-Qaeda mess, especially in the wake of this most recent economic crisis hitting the United States.  I am firmly against the war in Iraq, and the mistake it has become.

           For the record, I give 100% support to our troops.  I have a lot of friends, classmates and co-workers that have been, or are still, overseas.  They all decided of their own will to join the military, and I have no qualms with that.  My concern is that I'll find out one of them is coming home in a flag-draped casket.  I shudder to think that I'm going to lose someone else in my life.  You are fighting for my freedom, for our freedom.  I will always support you.  I just have issue with our hierarchy of imbeciles sending you off to fight their war.

           Now, there are reasons we need to be at war.  They just are not very good reasons, or of the best intentions.  Sure, we need to find Osama bin Laden and all of his upper echelon comrades.  However, is it worth the lives of American and Coalition military?  According to several news agencies and websites, including The Washington Post and antiwar.com, we've lost over 4,100 U.S. military personnel in Iraq to date.  We've lost over 600 more in Afghanistan.  The Coalition forces have lost over 300 lives in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Is finding bin Laden worth that many deaths?  On the flipside, how many Iraqis have lost their lives?  Sacramento News & Review has quoted several media outlets and journalists that put the number of Iraqi casualties anywhere between 37,000 and 1.2 million.  37,000 is a lot, but 1.2 million dead is just an outrageous number.  No one has kept an official count of the Iraqi dead, but no matter how you look at the range, that's just a damn lot of death. Iraq Body Count is a group that pores over media reports in hopes of maintaining a more accurate count of Iraqi casualties, and their number is hovering around 90,000.  Whichever number you look at, how many of them are innocent families, elderly, or children?  Again, is finding Osama bin Laden worth that many innocent deaths?

            Crude oil is another reason we are in the Persian Gulf, despite what our politicians say.  Contrary to what many believe, we don't import all of our petroleum products from the Middle East.  We import more from Canada than we do any other country.  This website breaks down U.S. petroleum imports by country.  We get almost as much oil combined from Mexico and Nigeria as we do from ALL of the Middle East.  Do we really need their oil?  The short-term answer is yes, because of our dependency.  The long-term answer is a resounding no, since the world's oil reserve is being severely depleted, and we are just now realizing that we're going to need another form of energy real soon.  The $246 billion we spent on imported petroleum products last year (LINK) could have been spent differently.  We really need to invest in alternative energy sources, such as solar and wind energy.  The more we spend domestically helps our economy grow, which we desperately need.  The less we spend internationally helps lessen our dependence on imports.

           Speaking of spending, are you aware of how much the war in Iraq costs?  I won't type the exact amount here, because by the time I'm done typing this blog, it'll be much more.  Let's just say it's over $500 billion and climbing.  I've got a counter on my page if you'd like to see an accurate amount.  Click on the link on that counter.  It takes you to a site that breaks down the amount each state, each county, each city is spending on average.  It also breaks down what the money spent on the war could have been used for, such as education and other things that seem to have lost importance over the years.  Shouldn't we be worrying more about our own domestic issues, as opposed to putting funds toward things we should be trying our damnedest to cut back on?

            We're also using this war to expand our fight against terrorism.  Terrorism is always going to be an issue, because no country is ever going to be content staying out of another country's business.  Our country has had to deal with it on a national level (Ted Kaczynski, Timothy McVeigh), and an international level (Pearl Harbor, Osama bin Laden).  Terrorism is always going to be a problem.  But why did we send our armed forces to the Middle East?  To protect our investments.  Sure, we're looking for bin Laden, Al-Qaeda, the Taliban, etc.  But we're also making sure the oil fields aren't set ablaze.  Homeland Security has become a joke.  Hell, there's even an 8-year-old boy on the Homeland Security terror watch list (LINK).  It's like they're not even trying.  All I'm saying is that we're making excuses to rip a country apart.  It's like blowing up your neighbor's house because his kid hit a baseball through your window.

            I'm not even gonna bother getting into that whole fiasco that was Blackwater.  It's bad enough that we're still over there.  Now we're hiring mercenaries to do the dirty work carte-blanche?  How about we use them to take out all of our multi-billionaire CEOs and distribute the money evenly to all working Americans?  I like my way of thinking.  You should too.

            Last November, Bryan, Michelle and I went to the Crest Theater in Sacramento to see Henry Rollins perform his spoken word gig.  I can't speak for Bryan and Michelle, but I sat there in awe of this man.  He talked about flying out to Libya, Iraq, all of the places that are supposed to be unsafe for an American civilian to venture.  He did it anyways.  He asked store owners, cab drivers, just random people, what they thought of Americans in general.  Every single person told him that they had no problems with Americans.  Just our politicians and government.  No problems with our country, just the people that run it.  Our country has become a bully that gets involved in everyone else's business.  We can't solve our own problems, which apparently makes us experts at solving someone else's.

           Our leaders can't leave well enough alone.  That being said, this war will continue because we have to protect our assets (oil), we have to weed out all of the terrorists (bin Laden), and we can't back down, because then we look like we surrender (France).  We as Americans have to do what we can to end this war.  Support our troops, but please don't support what we're making them do.

           In conclusion, I hate this war.  It's driven a huge spike through the heart of our country.  It's created more friction between political parties.  It's helped bring our economy to the brink of a second Great Depression.  It's made our country look like the punk kid that beats up another kid for his lunch money.  I don't care whether you're a conservative, a liberal, whatever.  All of this debt, all of this death, it's not good for any of us.  We need to make our voices heard.  If we don't, this mistake is going to continue, and we are all going to suffer, be it physically, emotionally, or financially.  Step outside the partisan lines, and think for yourself.  That's all I'm asking for:  Just think for yourself.

            Thank you.

Who needs politics?  My middle finger says I don't.

ACT I

          It's that time again.  Time for the number-crunching, trash-talking, and ballot-stuffing to commence.  No, I'm not talking about your local PTA meeting.  I'm talking about election time.  The time of year where morals and ethics go by the wayside, like a stripper's standards when she's hard-up for cash, or a hobo's pride when he's panhandling at the intersection.

          I hate politics.  I hate politicians.  I hate the government as a whole.  I have reasons to hate them all.  And you, my faithful readers, will have the opportunity to decide for yourself if my reasoning makes sense, or if I'm some un-American, anti-establishment, mental terrorist.  Either way, this is going to be fun for me, and really, that's all that matters.

          Again, when coming up with the idea for CFTW, (Contempt For The World, for my balloon-holding readers), I planned on each chapter only being a quick run-through of my opinions, and why I'm right.  Alas, I failed to realize that I'd need to back up my answers, reasons, opinions, etc.  In other words, this chapter is going to be lengthy, just like Chapter One.  The acts will revolve mostly around current events, which have pretty much been past mistakes being repeated.  I'll be discussing this never-ending "war", our economic crisis, and the sheer ineptitude in the White House, and in State and Local governments.  I'm pissed, and I'm making sure everyone knows it.

          Be prepared.

You love being intimately connected with another and have no problem sending out those signals. Your passionate, sensual and patient energy is given to others freely and people appreciate receiving your soothing energy. You possess a lot of enthusiasm and easily communicate your deep feelings and strong desires to have a love relationship, yet sometimes you hold back, monitoring and intellectualizing your interests in another instead of verbalizing your romantic interest in having commitment in your life. You would prefer if they make the first move before you're comfortable enough to let them know how you feel.

Much of the transformation you will be experiencing this year will be in relationships and in partnerships, helping you to see more deeply into your own motivation. Deep and profound changes in your dynamics of togetherness will give you an opportunity to explore your deeper needs and personal desires in a new way that will change your life forever. You start the year off wanting to be in an intimate relationship, and the blessings you experience will accumulate throughout the year -- both financially and otherwise -- once you decide you are sure you want to go forward.

Your whole life will be dramatically changed for the better and you may get deeply involved in this relationship, because it will be amazingly transforming. You will find new ways of establishing harmony when you focus on forming a closer emotional attachment. You find a lot of faith and trust in this relationship and incline to be very poetic about seeing things from a more high-minded viewpoint. You will find wisdom in sharing with each other and finding your own independent inner strength. Learn acceptance of each other through spontaneous communication of your spiritual ideals and insights.

For those that haven't heard, I decided to quit my job as a bartender at the Valencia Club.  This decision has been lingering for a while.  I'm also giving up the night life, going out during the week.

My body needs a break.  I've been wearing myself out by working two jobs and going out drinking five nights a week.

I have nothing to show for all of this except a tremendous lack of sleep, a weaker liver, and a larger belly from living on fast food.

I have goals in my life that I'd like to attain, and in my present state, those aren't close to being met.  For example, my music has gone nowhere since Rob and I had to close up the recording studio.  I've been so tired for the last several months, that I haven't even touched any of my guitars.  I've lost my passion for playing music, and I need to find it again.

I'd like to find a job that could become a career, but still be managable enough to work around for music.  That dream job will be hard to find, but I need to try.

Before any of you ask, it's not because I'm mad at anybody or anything.  There's just been a lot of bullshit going on, in my life and around it, and I'm just trying to get away.  I might go out on the town once a month or so, but no more than that.  I need to get my life in order.  I need to get my finances squared away, figure out a new living situation, pretty much revamp everything I've come to know and loathe.

Please, I don't want any of my friends taking this personally.  I just need time to breathe.

Thanks.

ACT V

          Chapter One has been nothing more than a long-winded summation of my general disdain for mankind as a whole.  Whether it's a lack of common sense, creativity, or intelligence, we as a species are morons.  That is why I titled this chapter "I Hate People."  So many people in this world have given me reason to give up hope that humanity will progress, rather than regress.

          Fortunately, there are a few of us that don't have the mental capacity of a corkscrew.  You are the people that have contributed encouragement, messages, e-mails, and even comments to my blog series.  Whether the feedback is positive or negative, it is both welcomed and appreciated.

          To all of my readers, thank you.

          And now, the antithesis to my hate list.

THE LOVE LIST

Jill D
AJ S
Mandy P
Heidi R
Eiran W
Shelby F
Travis G
Gerardo F
Andrea S
Justin H
Brandi B
Bryan M
Kris B
Will A
Kristin M
Chrystal F
Jason M
Desiree F

End Chapter One

          While I'm still brainstorming ideas for the next chapter in "Contempt For The World," I thought I would share some more tear-jerking conjecture and storytelling.

          Those of us that went to Mesa Verde High School knew who Mike Gebhardt was.  The vast majority of us respected him, and appreciated the direction he tried to steer us all, and also were thankful for the guidance and support he gave us.  Those of you that know me well also know that Coach Geb's passing hit me very hard.  I was not my normal fat, jovial self for quite some time.  (Relax people, this isn't another eulogy.)

          Anyways, I thought it would be a good idea for remembrance and for some closure if I made a scrapbook with newspaper clippings, bits from his website, and so on.  But because I wanted to reminisce, and not sob, I decided instead to make a Mesa Verde scrapbook.

          So I'm poking around in the garage looking for my varsity letters, which I wanted to add to the scrapbook.  I climb up to the rafters, thinking they're in this ten-year-old Adidas shoebox.  My graduation cap and gown are in there.  Alas, no letters.  Crap.  Where the hell is all my other stuff?  Surveying my mess of a garage, I spot a couple of fire-proof lockboxes on top of my storage cabinet.  Eureka!  Of course, they're both locked.  Next is the wild-goose chase for the keys.  I find them in my car.  Go figure.  I unlock both lockboxes, and here is my list of contents:

-High School Diploma.
-Letter from the SAT board with my score.  (For the record, 1290)
-Letter from a football combine I went to with Dustin Weirich.
          (Comments included "Great strength, need to work on speed."  No kidding)
-My Mesa Verde varsity letters, along with my football and track patches.
-Leftover pictures from my senior year Homecoming Dance and Senior Ball.
-Some of my old JV football pictures and some old yearbook pictures.
-A picture wallet with Senior Ball pictures of some of the couples.
-A crystal figurine my mom gave me as a graduation present.
-A $2 bill in a money clip from my grandmother.  (RIP Grandma.)
And finally:
-A quarter roll, dime roll, and nickel roll, from back when I could save money.

          There really isn't much of a point to this story.  Those lockboxes sat undisturbed for damn near ten years.  They were opened because I was just looking for that green and orange MV patch.  However, after opening those little boxes, I felt like Peter Pan finding his happy thought.

          Wait, I just thought of a point to the story.  It's always good to forget things.  That way, later on, you'll stumble upon them, and everything will take a backseat while you relive your memories.

          Hey, it worked for me.

          Thank you. 

I THOUGHT IT BEST TO POST THIS AS A BLOG AS WELL.

NOTHING HAD BEEN PUT IN THE SAC BEE YET, SO I WENT TO GEB'S WEBSITE THAT HE HAD BEEN UPDATING UNTIL HIS PASSING.

HIS FAMILY HAS POSTED THE TIMES FOR SERVICES OF CELEBRATION.

Friday, November 9th, 2007
St. Rose Church
Roseville, California
6:30 pm (Rosary)
7:00 pm (Mass)

Saturday, November 10th, 2007
Mesa Verde High School
PAC Building (Performing Arts Center)
Citrus Heights, California
11:00 am

CLICK HERE TO CHECK OUT COACH GEB'S WEBSITE.

EVERYONE THAT CAN MAKE IT, PLEASE ATTEND. THANK YOU.

ACT IV

            I've had a lot of time to sit back and decide how to continue this series, and recent events have let me to wonder if I wanted to revamp my little story.  Instead, I think I'm going to just start hammering out all these chapters, rapid-fire.

           Act IV was going to be about idiots and why I hate them, but I decided to change this one up.  This is an open invitation to Travis, martyr for all that is funny, to build on his Department of Euthanization.  Don't just focus on people, sir.

            This is the be-all, end-all.  This is my hate list.  An overblown summary of what I began with this chapter.  Some of these will be further explained in later chapters.  I'm just letting you all know what you're in for.

           I now present my list of people, animals, things, phrases, and pretty much anything else that I feel needs to go away.  This is in no particular order. 

           Enjoy.

THE HATE LIST

Paris Hilton, drivers over the age of 65, drivers under the age of 18, any vehicle with spinners on it, any driver of said vehicle, poodles, poodle owners, mullets, Rio Linda, spandex, registered sex offenders, mosquitoes, NASCAR, Thomas Peele, the U.S. Government as a whole (let's just start over), Canadia (spelled my way), Bon Jovi, Kid Rock, vegans, all Reality TV, Dr. Phil, carpool lanes, tofu, the designated hitter, 'light' beer, 'fitness' water, the Calvin pissing window stickers, ATM fees, welfare abusers, illegal immigrants, Eric Roberts, homeless people, taxes, toll booths, speed limits, men that wear pink, lavender, or light teal, racism, reverse racism, affirmative action, stunt doubles, bell-bottoms, Al Davis, George Steinbrenner, Jerry Jones, hangovers, combovers, line dancing, the KKK, the PMRC, parental advisory stickers, Rosie O'Donnell, Donald Trump, Martha Stewart, abbreviations like OMG and BFF, Britney Spears and K-Fed, the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, telemarketers, televangelists, psychic hotlines, backseat drivers, diabetes, Maryann McKamey (my family knows why), pop-up ads, having to press 1 for English, high gas prices, rice rockets, parking meters, cover charges, broken promises, drunk drivers, emo kids, The Vines, The Strokes, The Hives, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Jet, and any other 'vintage garage rock' sounding band, AFI since they stopped being punk, PETA, Dead-Heads, people that don't know how to use correct punctuation when they write or type, 'convenience' fees, beer prices at ballgames, kids that get bullied and don't fight back (don't pull a Columbine, just sack up and take a swing, pussy), get-rich-quick schemes, shitty cover songs, shitty cover bands, 'Spare the Air' days, Jared from Subway, the "Can you hear me now?" guy from Verizon, backstabbers, Aerosmith since they kicked the drugs, Speedos, Mike Tyson, David Beckham, synchronized swimming, men's pro volleyball, tribal armband tattoos, and finally, the FCC.

            That's it, for now.  I don't see any reason to put too much thought into it.  If I have to think too hard about what I hate, then I may actually only have a general dislike for it, and that doesn't count.  If some more do happen to pop into my head, I will add them.  To all of my readers, please add anything you feel I omitted from my list.

I have come to realize that as times are changing, too many people aren't.  Many of us, including yours truly, have a dark or wry sense of humor.  Whenever we engage in conversation, there is always that thought that someone will piss and moan because we 'offended' them.  I surely have no problem hitting a sore spot with people.  Most learn to accept our personalities and banter, but there are those that will walk away disgusted, and we learn to ignore and dislike them for being so narrow-minded.  Then there are those that feel the need to spread lies and misconceptions.  I have encountered a glaring example of this.  A good friend of mine, Travis Gruber, has fallen victim to a bloated case of slander, written by Thomas Peele of "The Contra Costa Times."

First, read the article here.  I want all of you that read the article to come to your own conclusions before moving forward with this blog.  Whatever your attitude is toward Travis regarding this article, it will change, I assure you.

Now for the website mentioned in the article, click here.  Read them all, or just whichever pique your interest.

After reading all of this, what conclusion do you come to?  Does Travis sound like some enraged, sadistic soldier?  From reading his movie and music reviews, to reading about how he pokes fun at Paris Hilton, Sheryl Crow, Dustin Diamond, et.al., does he really come across as an untrustworthy soldier?  He's making jokes.  Don't people do the same thing on "Saturday Night Live?"  How many times did Dana Carvey act as President Bush the senior?  Was there ever a government inquisition because he was making fun of him?  I highly doubt it.  Do you think he was really IMing President Bush the junior?  You know, I don't think so.  If you hadn't noticed, the website has nothing to do with how to kill someone.  You just need to watch an episode of "24" for that.  Do you think he seriously wants to purposely injure people?  Of course he doesn't.  All he is doing is being brutally honest in his opinion.  Aren't we allowed to do that? 

I know Freedom of Speech has it's limits (thank you FCC and Tipper Gore), but this is ridiculous.  I understand when you're in the military, you are forbidden from criticizing the government and its officials, but come on.  Does it ever end?

I just find it ironic that this writer from the Times uses his right to freedom of speech to ridicule and indirectly threaten the job and livelihood of a proud soldier for exercising his right to the same freedom.

Please give me your thoughts.

Thank you.

            Cameron

CHAPTER ONE: ACT I

     I wanted to share an excerpt of an article out of Saturday's Sacramento Bee.  It actually gives me the feeling that some people really want to do something with their lives.  I'm putting almost the entire article up, so I'm letting you know it's pretty long.

By Don Babwin, Associated Press    
     It was just a movie set, but in a moment it showed Chris Gardner where he'd been - and how far he'd come.
     There was actor Will Smith - who was playing Gardner, a former homeless man turned millionaire - Gardner stood in what looked like the train station bathroom where he once slept a quarter-century ago.
     The story of how the 52-year-old Gardner did just that, climbed out of homelessness and became a millionaire stockbroker with his own 15-employee Chicago firm, is being turned into a motion picture, due out in December.
     Even in the realm of rags-to-riches tales, Gardner's story is unique.  Take, for example, the events that led to his descent into homelessness.
     A medical supplies salesman barely making enough money to support his girlfriend and baby, Gardner had one of those Hollywood moments in a San Francisco parking lot in 1980 when he spotted a man looking for a place to park his red Ferrari.
     "I said to him, 'You can have my (parking) place but I've got to ask you two questions.  What do you do and how do you do it?'" recalled Gardner.
     The man was a stockbroker.  Gardner didn't know a single stockbroker or even what one did.  But the man said he made $80,000 a month - $50,000 more than Gardner made a year.
     Gardner found a brokerage firm willing to hire him and quit his job.  But when he showed up for work he learned the guy who'd hired him had been fired.  Gardner's job was gone.
     Then, days before a scheduled interview with Dean Witter, a loud fight with his girlfriend brought the police to his door.  The next thing Gardner knew they were asking him for $1,200 to clear up some unpaid parking tickets.  They may as well have asked for $12 million.  Gardner spent 10 days in jail.
     When he was released, his girlfriend and son were gone.  He had no money, no home and the only clothes he had for his job interview the next day were the ones he had worn to jail.
     A few months later came a knock on the door of the boardinghouse where he was staying.  "It's my ex and, guess what, she doesn't want the baby anymore, here," he said.  "The boardinghouse does not allow children.  That's how we became homeless."
     Some nights they stayed in a $25-a-night hotel, a park or under his desk at work.  And a few nights were spent in an Oakland BART station.
     Finally, they moved into a homeless hotel in San Francisco, run by Glide Memorial Unified Methodist Church.
     "There were no keys, so every day you take everything with you," said Gardner.  "For a year, I'd take my son, his stroller, a big duffel bag with all his clothes in it, my briefcase, an umbrella, the biggest bag of Pampers in the world, one suit on my back and one suit in a hanging bag and we'd hit it every day."
     When it rained, he covered the stroller with plastic sheets he'd picked up from dry cleaners.
     Daycare took a huge chunk of his meager stockbroker trainee salary, and it took Gardner about a year to save enough to move himself and his son into their own home.  From there, his career blossomed, and in 1987 he opened his own firm in Chicago.
     Gardner, who never went to college, has contributed tens of thousands of dollars to education, writing checks for as much as $25,000 to teachers, janitors, bus drivers and others who work at schools.
     Gardner is focusing much of his attention now on South Africa, trying to persuade investors to invest $1 billion there.
     "In the current state of our economy, creating an investment fund is critical," said Yusuf Omar, South African consul general in Chicago, who recently stopped by Gardner's office.
     For Gardner, helping South Africans pull themselves up makes perfect sense.
     "Everything I've learned working on Wall Street, 25 years, to be able to make a difference in the lives of a lot of people and we all make money, it (doesn't) get any better than that," he said.
    

     I wish everybody had his motivation and resolve.  When I first read this, I thought "If he can come this far, what's holding me back?"  Why don't we as a society try harder?  It has nothing to do with luck.  It's how bad you want it.  That's my question to you all.  Everybody has a goal in life.  How hard are you pushing yourself to reach it?  How bad do you want it?

ACT III    

     First and foremost, my current screen-name CAMERON HATES EMO KIDS, is not all-encompassing.  In general, I hate emo kids more for their fashion (or lack thereof) and the fact that they feel they are scorned by the world.  It has nothing to do with their music.  I actually like a few of the bands out there, but not a whole lot, mind you.

     Emo is emotional music.  I understand that.  All music should be made and played with 100% pure emotion.  I also understand that most people have experienced hearbreak.  That's fine.  But please, write some songs about happiness and death (but not suicide).  Do something different.  I honestly don't remember when I first heard the term "emo."  I was listening to Finch long before I heard that word.  Geez, I remember when AFI used to be punk.  They suck my ass now.  To me, the emo craze is nothing more than a phase, like hammer pants and Billy Ray Cyrus.  It will subside, in due time.

     I will be breaking this emo-chapter up into little emo-segments . . . . . . Starting now:

-Emo-Segment One: Emo Fashion

     We have all seen the Emo video that has circulated a few times on MySpace.  That is the emo fashion I am talking about.  Guys do not need to wear girls pants, regardless of how they think they look in them.  They wear their pretty belts with the buckles to the side.

          Q: Why do emo kids wear white belts?

          A: Because they suck at karate.

     Then there's the hair thing.  Fucking comb your shit.  Even if I've been sleeping for twelve hours, my hair still looks better than that when I wake up.  Your hair does not need to do that flippy thing like that guy from that band.

-Emo-Segment Two: Emo Music (Includes Screamo and Two-Step)

     What most of you may not know, is that I do listen to some of this music . . . . . but not a whole lot.  About all I can tolerate in any of the bands' music is the music itself. 99% of the time, the singer is the worst component of the band.  That applies mostly to screamo.  I can't understand a damn word you are saying (Bennett).  If I wanted to not understand any of the lyrics, I would either a) go to a Napalm Death concert, or b) just leave.  The emo singers are too high-pitched and whiny.  Stop singing about heartbreak and other girly shit like that.  Sack up, or just go kill yourself.  Oh, and take your faggy two-step dancing fairies with you.

     I can't dance for shit (I have witnesses), but come on.  That isn't even dancing.  I was actually near this clusterfuck of assholes at a couple of shows.  Swinging arms around.  One of those fuckbags almost hit me.  I so wanted to just end him, but then all his friends would start writing songs about it.  He ended up being the guitarist in one of the aforementioned screamo bands, so I don't know why I let him be.  Wait, yeah I do.  He'd probably wipe his mascara on me.

-Emo-Segment Three: Suicide

     Just do it.  Nobody will miss you.  (On the plus side, you'll get thousands more comments on your MySpace.)

     In closing, I just want to reiterate that this isn't an emo-bashing.  This is just me voicing my opinions about this subject.  If you have a problem with it, tough.  Write a song about it.  Write a song about fat people.  Mention me by name.  That would be great.

     The other chapters I've written have been the same way.  To all of you emo fags out there, I'm not singling you out or discriminating against you.  I hate everybody equally.  That's why I still have more chapters to write.

End

(For those of you that are interested, Chapter One: Act IV will be about those that lack common sense, the ones I lovingly refer to as Idiots.  Thanks for reading.)

ACT II

     Rarely do I complain about drivers.  All drivers are assholes.  There is no denying that.  I'm definitely one of them.  I do use my blinkers when I have to cut someone off, and I wave.  That makes me better than most.  I don't have any problems with getting cut off, unless you're right at my fender.  Then we're gonna tangle.  There are types of drivers I do not have an affinity for, as I will introduce you to.
     We see all the newer Civics, Integras and what not with modified exhaust, body kits and the like.  I'm talking the jackasses that put resonators and shit on their '91 Sentras and '85 Cutlass Cieras.  I don't want to see 20" rims on a Toyota Cressida, much less an old Cavalier.  Why do people do this shit?  Why put money into a piece of shit car?  To look cool?  I guarantee you it doesn't.  Oooh, let me put some spinners on my Grand Prix.  And I can't forget the glass packs.  I'd be gangsta if I did that shit, let me tell ya.
     I honestly don't know why someone would want to make an ugly car even uglier.  I could piss on it.  That would be custom.  And one of a kind.  You could use the money spent on the carbon fiber hood to, oh I don't know, get another car.  Maybe all one color, instead of 3-tone rattle-can.  I guess we all have to be cool in one way or another.  Maybe I'll put Euro lights on my car.  Yeah, that would be great.
     Next on the agenda.  I love trucks.  I miss my old Chevy ton.  What I see all too often however, is the Excursions, F-250s, Silverados, etc.  with way too much lift and riding on like 37s.  Is that really needed?  I know you don't wheel your shit.  The body is too straight.  No dents.  Oh, can't forget the redneck sticker in the window.  Fuck you.  If you drive a big-ass truck, it better be banged up.  The exception would be if it's a company truck with advertising on it.  You want to stand out.  That's borderline acceptable.  Otherwise, it looks like shit.  Not like the Mercury Capri with 18" Daytons, but pretty damn close.
     Number three on the list:  Toasters on Wheels.  I hate Scion xAs, xBs, Honda Elements, Pontiac Azteks, etc.  What in the flying blue hell are these.  I've seen bumper stickers on these damn things that confirm the toaster ideology.  What possessed you to get one?  I've seen cars at Pick N' Pull ( http://www.picknpull.com ) that look better than these.
     To top it off, I now see cross-pollenation between all of these.  I've seen xBs with spinners.  The one that stands out is the middle aged bald guy sporting his shit on Auburn.  I thought middle-aged men bought mid-90s Corvettes when they hit their mid-life crises?  I guess I'm out of the loop.
     Anyways, I hate that shit.  I hate all of you that do that shit to your cars.  I respect that you take an interest in something constructive, but I'm still gonna be the first to laugh at you.  Fags.

End

( I apologize for how long it took to post Act II.  I just got lazy.  Act III will take a while, for sure.  Just wanted to give a heads up for my few readers.  This will be the Emo act.  Save the suicide notes to use for comments in Act III.  Thanks.)

     I hadn't realized when coming up with this enormous blog that my first chapter would be so huge.  "I Hate People" is so general, I need to break it into acts to be more group specific.  I thank Jill for pointing out how all-encompassing the first chapter will be.  Comments will be accepted.  Ridiculous banter is a plus.  Away we go. . . . .

(I haven't done an essay-style paper in a while.  Please hold off on critiquing why I have no thesis statement, etc.  I'm just having a little fun.)