Nothing good..
I like to write for the unappreciated, the writer, who doesn't care anymore whether the reader is wiping away tears, rolling on the floor laughing (and you should be careful getting dirty rolling around like that) getting the sublime message, seeing the intelligence of the universe, to impress anyone: I write to tell a story, like it or not.
I have I think I'll call writer's stats, much like they do in sports. Sometimes I hit a story out of the park, even I like it. I may even like it enough to correct it. (oh, yeah, little secret: these are all first drafts. Now stop, it doesn't mean I don't love you, it just means, I'm in love with the future too. I don't have time to stop and start, and all that crap. That's for real writers who take themselves seriously. I'm hack, different breed, indifferent.)
So, there's an idea I have to understand government by trying to communicate with it, Area 51 like I'm sure.
This huge system full of wants and needs, beggars and theives, several different languages and the rest of us huddled together by candlelight, wondering what is going on inside.
I'm not going to take you inside, not yet, I haven't got there, but we're going to talk and speculate about what is likely in there. People. Oh, boy. We're in trouble.
Now, supposedly, not proven yet to me, but supposedly this mammoth serves me and you, where as I've been trampled and worse seen others trampled.
I'm being funny to a point, that I see a government throwing away people, resources.
That's where it ends.
Even though I have vascillated as to what I should do, and why I'm doing what I'm doing, I'm already here.
I own this government. We had to wrestle it away from certain people and still do, but there is always a way.
Somebody I know told me he felt like he keeps hitting brick walls. I told him that's why I carry a sledge hammer.
Grabbing tigers by the tails and hanging on can be fun...let's see.
