Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
I think that the sexual abuse and exploitation of children is so heinous as to require extraordinary measures.
It's no more worse than the rape of anyone else. But then again, you've likely been indoctrinated to believe that it's some huge problem and that you should turn off your brain whenever children are mentioned. Typical of the "for the children" crowd.
I don't think of pictures of some pervert sodomizing 8 year old boys as "free speech."
Uh-huh. Anything you really don't like doesn't qualify as free speech. Nice No True Scotsman, there.
It's an attack on society.
Bullshit. What melodramatic, sensationalist nonsense. Please give me scientific evidence that society will collapse if pictures aren't censored. There is no actual harm when someone looks at an image, and it's certainly not an "attack on society" (whatever that nonsense means).
Also, terrorism is an actual attack on society, yet I'm 100% opposed to the TSA and the NSA surveillance.
Society has the right to defend itself.
Not if it means infringing upon fundamental individual liberties.
You have the freedom to disagree and vote for someone who feels that that kind of thing is okay to be published.
But the government does not have the power to ignore the US constitution. "Congress shall make no law [...]" And no, newspeak-like nonsense that redefines speech will not help you.
Spying on non-US citizens in other countries is another.
Legal != moral. It is immoral to spy on innocent people. The NSA's spying should be targeted at actual enemies and there should be standards just like there are with citizens (Well, like there are supposed to be...).
So you think the only way to love America is to mindlessly obey authorities? You do realize that our entire country was founded on the idea that the everyone should be extremely cautious of the government, right? I love the ideals to which America is supposed to aspire, but I'm not sure the same can be said about you.
You have demonstrated that you are willing to lie and subvert the system though deceit, so I can no longer trust what you say as you are not an honest actor.
Trust what I say? How stupid are you? My arguments stand or fall on their own merit, and they're right there for you to debunk. Literally, there's nothing for me to lie about. This is just a lazy excuse to avoid putting forth an actual argument. Nice job being so transparent.
Also, by your logic, everyone in the world is actually a liar, since no one (including you) has never lied. I suppose that means that Hitler was a good person because he probably did at least one good thing. And doing one bad things makes you a bad person. What idiotic 'logic.'
Furthermore, your posts indicate that you expect people to do nothing while they get fucked in the ass by a government that tries to prevent you from using one of the final checks against government abuses: jury nullification. Yeah, good idea, bootlicker. I'd expect nothing less from a censorship-loving moron.
Freedom is simply more important than safety. You seem to only care about physical safety. If that is so, why do you live in a country that's supposed to be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave'? Why do you live in a country that has a constitution that only gives the government the powers that the constitution says it has, a measure that came about because people with power simply cannot be trusted? Why do you speak as if the government is full of perfect angels who could never make mistakes or do any wrong, and have absolute faith that all people who will ever be in the government will be the case, all the while ignoring the hundreds of millions of people throughout history murdered and/or abused by corrupt governments? Why do you not care about the highest law of the land in the US?
You don't want to live in a free country; I understand that. But turning the US into a police state will take a long time, and is a slow, gradual process. Wouldn't it be quicker for you to move to North Korea?
If you intend to lie to get on a jury, I remind you that is illegal, immoral and wrong.
Lying to avoid being eliminated from the jury because you're more informed about jury nullification is quite alright. When you make it impossible for anyone with a single brain cell to be on a jury, expect people to take measures to defend their country by using one of the tools available to them (jury nullification). Knowing about jury nullification can be all it takes for them to not let you be on the jury. To suggest that I'm somehow immoral for wanting to exercise one of the final checks on our government available to us simply because the government is making it difficult to do so is completely retarded.
But apparently that doesn't matter to you, only the "cause" you support matters.
Your definition of "immoral" and "wrong" are what is wrong. Yes, the constitution of the US and fundamental liberties are what matters.
So it's not the laws which are wrong in this case, but your willingness to subvert them with a lie to support your cause.
The laws are wrong, and so are government bootlickers like you.
In the USA, if you don't like the law, you have the right to petition and lobby to get it changed.
Jury nullification is another tactic.
He didn't exhaust his rights, nor was he willing to face trial and accept the punishment.
Not everyone is a masochist, a martyr, or a charismatic leader like MLK. Fuck you for this stupid way of thinking that everyone must do everything one way or not at all. We have the information, and now we must stop the government thugs from violating our fundamental liberties. The end. The whines and cries of you government bootlickers to defend the government's evil while pretending that you're not are quite hilarious.
You did not explain anything, you are just convinced all this information was necessary even if most of it has not been leaked in public anyway. That is in fact the proof he doesn't need all this information to make his point.
No, it's proof that you need to slowly release the information to maintain people's attention. It will get released, and that is good.
He did not choose to go to Russia, he had no other alternative and was locked in Russia.
Which is even worse. If he didn't choose it, then it only undermines your point further.
Do you mean nobody will stand for him in USA?
At trial, they'd attempt to eliminate anyone who has a chance of using jury nullification to stop him from being convicted for breaking unjust laws; that's the sort of thing that usually happens. What would be left (assuming anyone intelligent was there to begin with) are ignorant jurors.
If it is so obvious he was the good in the story, why do you believe he would not be capable to escape a trial or win it?
You think that morality is dependent upon escaping a trial or winning one? That's awfully retarded.
Don't mix things. Being foolish doesn't mean you are brave.
He was neither foolish, nor cowardly. You are both.
If the police get very lucky, the can find and erase all copies of a particular image.
By "get lucky," you must be describing a very unlikely scenario. Even if it's not intentional, it's likely the images will end up in other hands. Regardless, censorship is wrong.
Did you know that our entire system of government is based around the idea that the government shouldn't have too much power, and that everyone should be cautious of the government? Do you know that that's what it takes in order to truly be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave'?
call people who aren't hopeless square pegs like you government worshippers for being part of western civilization.
I'm calling them government worshipers for defending egregious violations of people's fundamental liberties and the US constitution, and for mindlessly appealing to laws in search of morality.
The problem is that if you remove "unreasonable" and require a warrant for all searches, you get the problem of police arresting somebody and being legally unable to frisk that person for weapons or tools to escaping jail.
Sounds acceptable to me. Get a warrant. The current situation is unacceptable, and it's clear that such subjective language will inevitably be abused.
Should the lawful methods of punishing offenders be detailed in the Constitution?
Where possible, yes.
The Constitution was not written to prevent the government from doing anything evil.
Maybe not, but we know of a number of abuses now, and I suggested a possible fix. Amend the constitution.
The Founding Fathers expected us to use political means to keep the government in line, not simply accuse anything we really don't like of being unconstitutional.
There is little point to the constitution if all you can do is say that you don't like an unconstitutional law. Unconstitutional laws are inherently invalid laws.
Slashdot Mirror
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
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Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
I will. 1 + 1 = 2.
I'm directly saying that people, men and women, who are mature adults vote in their own best interests
Now that's just comical. Most people just vote for a party. Voting for Republican or Democrat scumbags isn't in anyone's best interests.
I think that the sexual abuse and exploitation of children is so heinous as to require extraordinary measures.
It's no more worse than the rape of anyone else. But then again, you've likely been indoctrinated to believe that it's some huge problem and that you should turn off your brain whenever children are mentioned. Typical of the "for the children" crowd.
I don't think of pictures of some pervert sodomizing 8 year old boys as "free speech."
Uh-huh. Anything you really don't like doesn't qualify as free speech. Nice No True Scotsman, there.
It's an attack on society.
Bullshit. What melodramatic, sensationalist nonsense. Please give me scientific evidence that society will collapse if pictures aren't censored. There is no actual harm when someone looks at an image, and it's certainly not an "attack on society" (whatever that nonsense means).
Also, terrorism is an actual attack on society, yet I'm 100% opposed to the TSA and the NSA surveillance.
Society has the right to defend itself.
Not if it means infringing upon fundamental individual liberties.
You have the freedom to disagree and vote for someone who feels that that kind of thing is okay to be published.
But the government does not have the power to ignore the US constitution. "Congress shall make no law [...]" And no, newspeak-like nonsense that redefines speech will not help you.
Spying on non-US citizens in other countries is another.
Legal != moral. It is immoral to spy on innocent people. The NSA's spying should be targeted at actual enemies and there should be standards just like there are with citizens (Well, like there are supposed to be...).
So you think the only way to love America is to mindlessly obey authorities? You do realize that our entire country was founded on the idea that the everyone should be extremely cautious of the government, right? I love the ideals to which America is supposed to aspire, but I'm not sure the same can be said about you.
You have demonstrated that you are willing to lie and subvert the system though deceit, so I can no longer trust what you say as you are not an honest actor.
Trust what I say? How stupid are you? My arguments stand or fall on their own merit, and they're right there for you to debunk. Literally, there's nothing for me to lie about. This is just a lazy excuse to avoid putting forth an actual argument. Nice job being so transparent.
Also, by your logic, everyone in the world is actually a liar, since no one (including you) has never lied. I suppose that means that Hitler was a good person because he probably did at least one good thing. And doing one bad things makes you a bad person. What idiotic 'logic.'
Furthermore, your posts indicate that you expect people to do nothing while they get fucked in the ass by a government that tries to prevent you from using one of the final checks against government abuses: jury nullification. Yeah, good idea, bootlicker. I'd expect nothing less from a censorship-loving moron.
Nice, I have an opinion which differs from yours, so that must make me a "government worshipper".
When you're defending the NSA, it certainly does.
Oh, the right that your body is not raped, maimed, harmed
We've already established that this is not about rape, but about sharing and looking at content.
pictures of you are not distributed without your consent is below the right to ... 'free speech'
Indeed it is. Government censorship is wrong.
Freedom is simply more important than safety. You seem to only care about physical safety. If that is so, why do you live in a country that's supposed to be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave'? Why do you live in a country that has a constitution that only gives the government the powers that the constitution says it has, a measure that came about because people with power simply cannot be trusted? Why do you speak as if the government is full of perfect angels who could never make mistakes or do any wrong, and have absolute faith that all people who will ever be in the government will be the case, all the while ignoring the hundreds of millions of people throughout history murdered and/or abused by corrupt governments? Why do you not care about the highest law of the land in the US?
You don't want to live in a free country; I understand that. But turning the US into a police state will take a long time, and is a slow, gradual process. Wouldn't it be quicker for you to move to North Korea?
If you intend to lie to get on a jury, I remind you that is illegal, immoral and wrong.
Lying to avoid being eliminated from the jury because you're more informed about jury nullification is quite alright. When you make it impossible for anyone with a single brain cell to be on a jury, expect people to take measures to defend their country by using one of the tools available to them (jury nullification). Knowing about jury nullification can be all it takes for them to not let you be on the jury. To suggest that I'm somehow immoral for wanting to exercise one of the final checks on our government available to us simply because the government is making it difficult to do so is completely retarded.
But apparently that doesn't matter to you, only the "cause" you support matters.
Your definition of "immoral" and "wrong" are what is wrong. Yes, the constitution of the US and fundamental liberties are what matters.
So it's not the laws which are wrong in this case, but your willingness to subvert them with a lie to support your cause.
The laws are wrong, and so are government bootlickers like you.
In the USA, if you don't like the law, you have the right to petition and lobby to get it changed.
Jury nullification is another tactic.
He didn't exhaust his rights, nor was he willing to face trial and accept the punishment.
Not everyone is a masochist, a martyr, or a charismatic leader like MLK. Fuck you for this stupid way of thinking that everyone must do everything one way or not at all. We have the information, and now we must stop the government thugs from violating our fundamental liberties. The end. The whines and cries of you government bootlickers to defend the government's evil while pretending that you're not are quite hilarious.
You did not explain anything, you are just convinced all this information was necessary even if most of it has not been leaked in public anyway. That is in fact the proof he doesn't need all this information to make his point.
No, it's proof that you need to slowly release the information to maintain people's attention. It will get released, and that is good.
He did not choose to go to Russia, he had no other alternative and was locked in Russia.
Which is even worse. If he didn't choose it, then it only undermines your point further.
Do you mean nobody will stand for him in USA?
At trial, they'd attempt to eliminate anyone who has a chance of using jury nullification to stop him from being convicted for breaking unjust laws; that's the sort of thing that usually happens. What would be left (assuming anyone intelligent was there to begin with) are ignorant jurors.
If it is so obvious he was the good in the story, why do you believe he would not be capable to escape a trial or win it?
You think that morality is dependent upon escaping a trial or winning one? That's awfully retarded.
Don't mix things. Being foolish doesn't mean you are brave.
He was neither foolish, nor cowardly. You are both.
You get removed from the pool by the prosecution
Yes, they try to remove people who could correct their nonsense. That's why you must feign ignorance. That is most certainly not fair.
So the system is fair, despite your claims.
Unfair laws mean that our system is unfair. And I linked to a case where it was demonstrably *not* fair. There are many more.
I can not stand that you believe children are less worth than the bubbleing that comes out of your mouth, that is simply a retarded attitude of yours.
Why can you not understand that fundamental rights are more important than the hurt feelings of some children?
If the police get very lucky, the can find and erase all copies of a particular image.
By "get lucky," you must be describing a very unlikely scenario. Even if it's not intentional, it's likely the images will end up in other hands. Regardless, censorship is wrong.
It's funny how you government hating nutjobs
Did you know that our entire system of government is based around the idea that the government shouldn't have too much power, and that everyone should be cautious of the government? Do you know that that's what it takes in order to truly be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave'?
call people who aren't hopeless square pegs like you government worshippers for being part of western civilization.
I'm calling them government worshipers for defending egregious violations of people's fundamental liberties and the US constitution, and for mindlessly appealing to laws in search of morality.
The problem is that if you remove "unreasonable" and require a warrant for all searches, you get the problem of police arresting somebody and being legally unable to frisk that person for weapons or tools to escaping jail.
Sounds acceptable to me. Get a warrant. The current situation is unacceptable, and it's clear that such subjective language will inevitably be abused.
Should the lawful methods of punishing offenders be detailed in the Constitution?
Where possible, yes.
The Constitution was not written to prevent the government from doing anything evil.
Maybe not, but we know of a number of abuses now, and I suggested a possible fix. Amend the constitution.
The Founding Fathers expected us to use political means to keep the government in line, not simply accuse anything we really don't like of being unconstitutional.
There is little point to the constitution if all you can do is say that you don't like an unconstitutional law. Unconstitutional laws are inherently invalid laws.