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What Price is the Attention to What's Important?



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It has come to my attention that people in general have a rough time PAYING attention at all. I send these emails to keep up with everybody and to relay other information that sometimes I feel is important. And people still call me while I'm at work or when I should be reasonably asleep, wanting to know things they could just as easily emailed or texted me about.

Why am I railing about this now? Why I am choosing a little bullshit email as a sounding board for my complaints of some of my friends and in turn, society? Because this man is really concerned past his customary irritation. My criticism is not about a perceived casual disregard for my simple wish It is about our collective failure to pay attention to important details because our brains are currently assigned to running tasks that do not conceivably improve its programming.

Monday, the talk around my workplace wasn't about the war in Central Asia or the coming Depression that's about to drown the United States. What I thought was a fait accompli of a headlining political story with a United States senator propositioning a undercover agent for a blowjob (for once he wanted to give back to the common man, I suppose) wasn't.

The main story wasn't even about Turkey attacking Northern Iraq with a hundred thousand men to harry some more Kurds occupying land the Turks didn't want anyway while rating the United States its number one threat to its security.

It was about something undoubtedly more important. It was the main story on CNN on Monday.

It was about the disaster that was Britney Spears' performance at the MTV Video Music Awards. Just to show you how weak the reportage was it didn't bother to cover the failure on the part of everyone involved.

Please allow me to take a momentary digression. Sometimes I feel like I closed my eyes for five minutes sometime in the Nineties and before I opened my eyes and began to shudder in distress, all of a sudden this smelly-footed virago was all that tens of millions of Americans could care about. And this woman along with an even less talented and racist blonde, Paris Hilton, dominates our reality.

It is as if God decided it would be more cost-effective to outsource the day-to-day responsibilties of scripting Reality to Joe Eszterhas.

We are all--me included-- complicit in filling our minds with this bullshit which is why we cannot recall simple key sentences for vital correspondences. We are losing valuable RAM space for want of the trivial. I plead with you to be more conscious of the everyday jetsam that fills our minds everyday. Watch a little less YouTube. Make a conscious effort to focus on something not so superficial such as the goings-on of the marginally talented.
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In Hoc Signo Vinces



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Well sports fans, it's another sizzler of a week here in South Florida. In the southeast, we have our routine threat of hurricanes barreling onto our shores. In the northeast, we have the continual high-pressure angst where it's centralized in New York City resulting in those tornadoes in Brooklyn earlier this summer. Now, If you look carefully, you can see a mixed front of ennui and creeping despair encroach upon the West Coast with a leading edge stemming from the Pacific Northwest on down to the San Bernardino Valley. And in the continental United States is the same pattern we've enjoyed since 2000, with the less educated half of the humans hijacking the desires of the largely godless other half.

For those who bother to read these things I send out and wonder why I put that unusual quote in the subject line, it is a new mantra I submit to get through the day. Feel free to Wikipedia or Google the phrase and you'll see why. Besides, I think Latin phrases are so ill.

But I realize certain things about myself and I have to commit to my mantras more and more because the self I've submerged for so long is rising again. The reason I'm always show my colors as a budding malcontent is because I'm simply not made to be doing what I'm doing. This whole practice of toiling beaverine to make a couple anonymous people rich is chafing more and more against my principles.

"In this sign, you will conquer", is something vague and yet sufficiently encompassing to describe my inner rebellion and determination to make a change.

The utility and frivolity involved in typing out these little ditties on why I ordinarily have a such a hard time keeping up with you all is rapidly coming to an end.

This next job is the last.
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