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'd say they're correlated in the sense that intelligent people (like just about everyone else) will often want to be able to communicate with and understand others. It's just that it doesn't make someone's inherent abilities null and avoid if they aren't able to do that effectively.
Bad writing makes it harder and slower for -us- to read it. So if you want to have your words read, make them easy to read.
Not the same AC, but to suggest that there isn't a significant correlation between ability to communicate and comprehend complex ideas is naive.
There is a different between correlation and the things being directly related.
And schools can teach plenty of understanding, even bad ones, as at least in some subjects you will get hands on experience.
They can, but a grand majority don't.
And of course not all schools suck.
Not all, but most. And even in the best schools, some classes and teaches are poor.
A lot of the time the problem is people assuming they can just sit idly through classes and come out perfectly educated.
Usually the same people who think that college/university is for job training. They're there to get jobs and nothing else, but don't realize that that's not what education is about.
Those without self-motivation to actively participate in learning at a decent or better school are not going to have much self-motivation for learning outside of school either.
I don't fit into formal education environments, myself. But I do have the self-motivation to learn on my own.
it doesn't help that there is a pattern of people saying school doesn't help much but having writing that is bad enough to get in the way of understanding what they are saying.
School doesn't help much, in the sense that it often doesn't teach people to understand anything. Being able to write correctly has little to do with your ability to comprehend complex tasks that require logic and reason. It's little more than an ad hominem.
Just memorizing a bunch of stuff doesn't teach you much, but if you don't know the basic you end up trying to base your new ideas and arguments on falsehoods...
No one said or even implied that nothing should ever be memorized. If you had no ability to retain information at all, you couldn't do anything. There's simply far too much useless memorization going on in schools, and no focus on real understanding.
My plan is to force them to go to court (which will function as usual) if they want content removed so badly. That this would make it harder for them to enforce copyright is an irrelevancy, because freedom and justice are more important than 'security.'
It isn't like this is too hard to get into a court-room, but you are here insisting that the judge get involved right from the beginning.
Wrong. I'm insisting that *if you want to force someone to remove the content, you must go to a judge*. The website shouldn't be punished for not removing content because they were sent a DMCA take-down. Basically, I'm just saying that websites should be able to ignore DMCA take-downs as if they're absolutely nothing with no punishment whatsoever. If they don't like that, then go to a judge.
You don't have to go to a judge at all. I just don't think take-downs should amount to much of anything. If you don't want to go to a judge, then don't, but don't expect the content to be removed.
I also think you fail to even comprehend what the DMCA take-down notice process even is in the first place to continue this kind of argument.
The DMCA is an unjustifiable piece of trash, and you're wasting your time trying to convince me otherwise.
So yeah, maybe there are alternative approaches, and if any of them involve any sort of 'punishment' like losing one's safe harbor status, and no judge is involved, then those are a huge problem, too. What part of this is difficult to understand? I've made my position abundantly clear, and I am not misunderstanding the situation. Unless, of course, you're going to say that you cannot lose your safe harbor status over DMCA take-downs?
The point of the DMCA take-down process is to avoid needing a court room
Yes, that's the problem.
There are alternative approaches that could be done beyond simply the DMCA, and you seem to be insisting that a judge is involved in every situation.
I'm insisting we get rid of DMCA take-downs because websites can lose their safe harbor status over them simply because they don't want to remove content without question (appeal or no appeal, it doesn't matter).
That isn't even the point of a courtroom in the first place, which is where I think you miss what a judge actually does.
If someone wants to send a strongly worded request that someone remove some content from their website, that's on them. What is absolutely unacceptable, however, is the loss of safe harbor when one doesn't comply. That is what makes the DMCA take-down notices fundamentally different, and that is what makes them intolerable.
This isn't a matter of sacrifice, but showing a misunderstanding of the legal process as a whole.
You're showing a misunderstanding of liberty and justice.
I'd like to note that I earn a professional wage off of copyrighted content. I depend upon copyright working in order for me to support and feed my family (not very lavishly either I might add).
Therefore, it's right to try to circumvent the courts and streamline copyright enforcement? No. That's not how it should work in any truly free country.
When I say that I think it is a stupid thing to have each possible copyright infringement go to a judge for review, I think it is not only a waste of time for that judge but also for me as well.
I don't think it's a waste of time at all, because it'll force copyright thugs to have to see a judge.
but that is essentially what the DMCA take-down notice actually is in the first place, going to the ISP instead of the actual person first.
If that's what it is, then I guess you can stop using DMCA take-down notices then, yes? But they're not the same. You can lose your safe harbor status over it.
Again, under your system of strictly using judicial orders for removing content, how is copyright even going to function for somebody like me?
Once again, we're supposed to be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave.' 'Sacrifices' are made in the name of freedom. How copyright would work for you without the DMCA is not my concern, and I vehemently disagree with you to suggest that we should just circumvent due process so the enforcement of your copyrights can be a bit easier.
I completely disagree with you, and it shows you know little of what lawyers actually do for a living.
What lawyers do to is irrelevant to me, and wasn't what I was speaking of to begin with. What is relevant, however, is the DMCA, and what happens to your safe harbor status if you don't abide by DMCA takedowns.
The point of the DMCA was to make it more expensive for the copyright violators than it was for those who were trying to enforce copyright laws in the first place.
No, that's a *bad* thing. Just because 'justice' is expensive doesn't mean we should make it easier for them to abuse their powers just so there can be more 'justice.' That's not how any truly free country should work. I'm sure police would find it easier to go after the 'bad guys' if we simply let them break into any house they pleased, but that would be bad even if they did catch more criminals. Why? In a civilized country, freedom is valued above safety. If this means more copyright violators get away, then that's perfectly acceptable. That's a much better result than letting them abuse DMCA takedowns.
So, in short, making it cheaper for copyright thugs is completely and utterly undesirable to me and anyone with a functioning brain.
What? They should have to go to court every single time. I don't care if this results in a 'worse' (it's not worse in my eyes) result; it removes much of their ability to spam takedowns, and an actual judge gets to hear their case. I do not care if there is a way to get the content put back up, and I was already aware of that. The problem is that they can have it taken down to begin with!
The alternative is that you simply get a summons to appear before a judge.
The alternative is that they get a judge to order the content be removed.
The fact remains we are freer now than we have ever been. Anyone who thinks otherwise is totally ignorant of history. The fact is your list of rights violations, while some of them need to be dealt with, in comparison to the past 200 years largely consist of petty bullshit that has nothing to do with liberty, freedom, or the constitution except as crazed Randroids conceive it.
Yes, because blatant violations of the constitution and people's individual liberties are "petty." You've revealed yourself as the freedom hater that you are.
And again, your bullshit logic of "The past was worse, so stop complaining about the present!" is just that: bullshit. If a problem exists (which it does), it needs to be dealt with.
If you honestly believe one single Congressman is trying to oppress you, you are a moron.
The mass violation of the constitution and our individual liberties prove you wrong, you worthless scumbag.
TSA: whining that has nothing to do with freedom or the constitution; merely a modern inconvenience that spoiled travelers cry about. Patriot Act: Not good, worth opposing, but not something to cry about. Free speech zones: Better than we've ever had it. This is just new terminology for the same shit we've been doing since 1776. The difference is the government no longer feels justified, nor do we cheer them on, when they mow protestors down with bullets. We also don't have a Sedition Act anymore that lets us imprison our political enemies as your precious Founding Fathers did. NSA spying: Does not actually infringe on any of your rights and has been going on since 1776 in different forms.
TSA: A violation of the fourth amendment. Patriot Act: Again, mostly the fourth amendment. Free speech zones: Blatant violation of the first. NSA: Again, the fourth.
If you honestly believe that the TSA is merely an "inconvenience," then, again, you are a freedom-hating scumbag. It's a blatant violation of the fourth amendment and people's privacy. There's nothing you can do or link to that will justify having the government in airports searching everyone and forcing them through scanners. Not a single thing. Give up, you worthless authoritarian fuck.
Saying "They did similar things in the past!" doesn't change what these things are: Blatant violations of people's constitutional liberties; violations of the spirit of the constitution. No violation of the highest law of the land is petty; it should always be a huge concern to anyone who wants to live in a free country.
And the fact of the matter is, the type of spying (mass spying on people's communications without valid warrants or anything) the NSA is doing would have been explicitly prohibited had it been used against the founding fathers, like many other things were. So, it's a blatant of the constitution because it so obviously violates its spirit. But even if it didn't (Which it certainly does.), it wouldn't be anything that a truly free country would let happen, as it's an egregious violation of people's fundamental liberties.
Anyway, you've made it abundantly clear that you don't want to live in a free country, and you'll tolerate the government having massive, exploitable powers even though governments throughout history have murdered hundreds of millions of people - including some at the hands of the US government. To call any of these issues petty or to say they're not rights violations is to misunderstand freedom and ignorantly admit that you believe the government is full of perfect little angels who could never abuse anyone or make mistakes, which is something history has disproved many millions of times over. Or maybe you just want a police state to make yourself free safe. Either way, have you thought of moving to North Korea?
Putting aside your historical ignorance, and blinders that are letting you mistake the fruits of the past decade for those of another three, you're a fool if you think replacing your Congressmen with people like this guy is going to improve the situation.
I don't, and nor am I historically ignorant. This guy is an idiot; I never said I liked him.
I didn't say anything about a ruling class, unless you think that legislative experience and ruling class amount to the same thing.
When you only let in select people based on arbitrary standards, then you're going to end up with career politicians without principles; that's the status quo.
You are a fool if you think that's all the government has been up to or all that it does. We're the strongest country in the world economically, politically, and militarily in large part because of the excellent work done by the U.S. federal government.
The economy and power matter far less to me than freedom. I have to commend them on their excellent ability to start pointless wars, though.
You are the problem.
You have no idea who I vote for, fool. I don't vote for either Republicans or Democrats, because they're worthless scumbags. I vote on principle. I vote for third party candidates who don't want to violate the constitution or our fundamental liberties.
Despite all the paranaoia and hyperbole, we are freer now than we have ever been in this country. Grow up and get some perspective.
No, you get some perspective. I can name of dozens of serious constitutional and rights violations occurring at this very minute. If what you care about is the economy and bullying other countries with military might, then you are shallow.
"The land of the free and the home of the brave" values freedom above all else. The fact that we're supposedly 'freer' than before is irrelevant, because the logic of "X is better than Y, so X is good!" is nonsensical; better != good, and our situation is still far from good.
If "freedom" means dysfunctional and ineffective government to you, save the rest of us the trouble and move to a third world country.
The government is very effective at infringing upon our individual liberties. Instead of oppressing select groups, they're now mainly trying to oppress everyone. Freedom, to me, means that the government isn't violating our fundamental liberties and the constitution. The political elite are doing just that right now. I think displacing them would be helpful, but not with people like this guy.
The reason we have things like the TSA, the Patriot Act, free speech zones, the NSA's spying, etc. is because we don't have enough people who stick to their principles. If having such people means gridlock, then I'm willing to make that 'sacrifice', and since freedom is what is important, you'd be a fool not to do the same.
Slashdot Mirror
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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
-----------
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
They are related, but that's not the point.
I'd say they're correlated in the sense that intelligent people (like just about everyone else) will often want to be able to communicate with and understand others. It's just that it doesn't make someone's inherent abilities null and avoid if they aren't able to do that effectively.
Bad writing makes it harder and slower for -us- to read it. So if you want to have your words read, make them easy to read.
I agree with that.
difference*
teachers*
You may be on to something here after all...
Not the same AC, but to suggest that there isn't a significant correlation between ability to communicate and comprehend complex ideas is naive.
There is a different between correlation and the things being directly related.
And schools can teach plenty of understanding, even bad ones, as at least in some subjects you will get hands on experience.
They can, but a grand majority don't.
And of course not all schools suck.
Not all, but most. And even in the best schools, some classes and teaches are poor.
A lot of the time the problem is people assuming they can just sit idly through classes and come out perfectly educated.
Usually the same people who think that college/university is for job training. They're there to get jobs and nothing else, but don't realize that that's not what education is about.
Those without self-motivation to actively participate in learning at a decent or better school are not going to have much self-motivation for learning outside of school either.
I don't fit into formal education environments, myself. But I do have the self-motivation to learn on my own.
it doesn't help that there is a pattern of people saying school doesn't help much but having writing that is bad enough to get in the way of understanding what they are saying.
School doesn't help much, in the sense that it often doesn't teach people to understand anything. Being able to write correctly has little to do with your ability to comprehend complex tasks that require logic and reason. It's little more than an ad hominem.
Just memorizing a bunch of stuff doesn't teach you much, but if you don't know the basic you end up trying to base your new ideas and arguments on falsehoods...
No one said or even implied that nothing should ever be memorized. If you had no ability to retain information at all, you couldn't do anything. There's simply far too much useless memorization going on in schools, and no focus on real understanding.
What's your plan?
My plan is to force them to go to court (which will function as usual) if they want content removed so badly. That this would make it harder for them to enforce copyright is an irrelevancy, because freedom and justice are more important than 'security.'
It isn't like this is too hard to get into a court-room, but you are here insisting that the judge get involved right from the beginning.
Wrong. I'm insisting that *if you want to force someone to remove the content, you must go to a judge*. The website shouldn't be punished for not removing content because they were sent a DMCA take-down. Basically, I'm just saying that websites should be able to ignore DMCA take-downs as if they're absolutely nothing with no punishment whatsoever. If they don't like that, then go to a judge.
You don't have to go to a judge at all. I just don't think take-downs should amount to much of anything. If you don't want to go to a judge, then don't, but don't expect the content to be removed.
I also think you fail to even comprehend what the DMCA take-down notice process even is in the first place to continue this kind of argument.
The DMCA is an unjustifiable piece of trash, and you're wasting your time trying to convince me otherwise.
Which isn't an excuse to get rid of the justice system. Freedom is more important than 'safety.'
So yeah, maybe there are alternative approaches, and if any of them involve any sort of 'punishment' like losing one's safe harbor status, and no judge is involved, then those are a huge problem, too. What part of this is difficult to understand? I've made my position abundantly clear, and I am not misunderstanding the situation. Unless, of course, you're going to say that you cannot lose your safe harbor status over DMCA take-downs?
The point of the DMCA take-down process is to avoid needing a court room
Yes, that's the problem.
There are alternative approaches that could be done beyond simply the DMCA, and you seem to be insisting that a judge is involved in every situation.
I'm insisting we get rid of DMCA take-downs because websites can lose their safe harbor status over them simply because they don't want to remove content without question (appeal or no appeal, it doesn't matter).
That isn't even the point of a courtroom in the first place, which is where I think you miss what a judge actually does.
If someone wants to send a strongly worded request that someone remove some content from their website, that's on them. What is absolutely unacceptable, however, is the loss of safe harbor when one doesn't comply. That is what makes the DMCA take-down notices fundamentally different, and that is what makes them intolerable.
This isn't a matter of sacrifice, but showing a misunderstanding of the legal process as a whole.
You're showing a misunderstanding of liberty and justice.
I'd like to note that I earn a professional wage off of copyrighted content. I depend upon copyright working in order for me to support and feed my family (not very lavishly either I might add).
Therefore, it's right to try to circumvent the courts and streamline copyright enforcement? No. That's not how it should work in any truly free country.
When I say that I think it is a stupid thing to have each possible copyright infringement go to a judge for review, I think it is not only a waste of time for that judge but also for me as well.
I don't think it's a waste of time at all, because it'll force copyright thugs to have to see a judge.
but that is essentially what the DMCA take-down notice actually is in the first place, going to the ISP instead of the actual person first.
If that's what it is, then I guess you can stop using DMCA take-down notices then, yes? But they're not the same. You can lose your safe harbor status over it.
Again, under your system of strictly using judicial orders for removing content, how is copyright even going to function for somebody like me?
Once again, we're supposed to be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave.' 'Sacrifices' are made in the name of freedom. How copyright would work for you without the DMCA is not my concern, and I vehemently disagree with you to suggest that we should just circumvent due process so the enforcement of your copyrights can be a bit easier.
I completely disagree with you, and it shows you know little of what lawyers actually do for a living.
What lawyers do to is irrelevant to me, and wasn't what I was speaking of to begin with. What is relevant, however, is the DMCA, and what happens to your safe harbor status if you don't abide by DMCA takedowns.
The point of the DMCA was to make it more expensive for the copyright violators than it was for those who were trying to enforce copyright laws in the first place.
No, that's a *bad* thing. Just because 'justice' is expensive doesn't mean we should make it easier for them to abuse their powers just so there can be more 'justice.' That's not how any truly free country should work. I'm sure police would find it easier to go after the 'bad guys' if we simply let them break into any house they pleased, but that would be bad even if they did catch more criminals. Why? In a civilized country, freedom is valued above safety. If this means more copyright violators get away, then that's perfectly acceptable. That's a much better result than letting them abuse DMCA takedowns.
So, in short, making it cheaper for copyright thugs is completely and utterly undesirable to me and anyone with a functioning brain.
What? They should have to go to court every single time. I don't care if this results in a 'worse' (it's not worse in my eyes) result; it removes much of their ability to spam takedowns, and an actual judge gets to hear their case. I do not care if there is a way to get the content put back up, and I was already aware of that. The problem is that they can have it taken down to begin with!
The alternative is that you simply get a summons to appear before a judge.
The alternative is that they get a judge to order the content be removed.
As I said, you are the problem.
And you?
The fact remains we are freer now than we have ever been. Anyone who thinks otherwise is totally ignorant of history. The fact is your list of rights violations, while some of them need to be dealt with, in comparison to the past 200 years largely consist of petty bullshit that has nothing to do with liberty, freedom, or the constitution except as crazed Randroids conceive it.
Yes, because blatant violations of the constitution and people's individual liberties are "petty." You've revealed yourself as the freedom hater that you are.
And again, your bullshit logic of "The past was worse, so stop complaining about the present!" is just that: bullshit. If a problem exists (which it does), it needs to be dealt with.
If you honestly believe one single Congressman is trying to oppress you, you are a moron.
The mass violation of the constitution and our individual liberties prove you wrong, you worthless scumbag.
TSA: whining that has nothing to do with freedom or the constitution; merely a modern inconvenience that spoiled travelers cry about.
Patriot Act: Not good, worth opposing, but not something to cry about.
Free speech zones: Better than we've ever had it. This is just new terminology for the same shit we've been doing since 1776. The difference is the government no longer feels justified, nor do we cheer them on, when they mow protestors down with bullets. We also don't have a Sedition Act anymore that lets us imprison our political enemies as your precious Founding Fathers did.
NSA spying: Does not actually infringe on any of your rights and has been going on since 1776 in different forms.
TSA: A violation of the fourth amendment.
Patriot Act: Again, mostly the fourth amendment.
Free speech zones: Blatant violation of the first.
NSA: Again, the fourth.
If you honestly believe that the TSA is merely an "inconvenience," then, again, you are a freedom-hating scumbag. It's a blatant violation of the fourth amendment and people's privacy. There's nothing you can do or link to that will justify having the government in airports searching everyone and forcing them through scanners. Not a single thing. Give up, you worthless authoritarian fuck.
Saying "They did similar things in the past!" doesn't change what these things are: Blatant violations of people's constitutional liberties; violations of the spirit of the constitution. No violation of the highest law of the land is petty; it should always be a huge concern to anyone who wants to live in a free country.
And the fact of the matter is, the type of spying (mass spying on people's communications without valid warrants or anything) the NSA is doing would have been explicitly prohibited had it been used against the founding fathers, like many other things were. So, it's a blatant of the constitution because it so obviously violates its spirit. But even if it didn't (Which it certainly does.), it wouldn't be anything that a truly free country would let happen, as it's an egregious violation of people's fundamental liberties.
Anyway, you've made it abundantly clear that you don't want to live in a free country, and you'll tolerate the government having massive, exploitable powers even though governments throughout history have murdered hundreds of millions of people - including some at the hands of the US government. To call any of these issues petty or to say they're not rights violations is to misunderstand freedom and ignorantly admit that you believe the government is full of perfect little angels who could never abuse anyone or make mistakes, which is something history has disproved many millions of times over. Or maybe you just want a police state to make yourself free safe. Either way, have you thought of moving to North Korea?
You're a freedom-hating scumbag; you've made that clear. Move to North Korea, scum, as you clearly don't want to live in "the land of the free."
Putting aside your historical ignorance, and blinders that are letting you mistake the fruits of the past decade for those of another three, you're a fool if you think replacing your Congressmen with people like this guy is going to improve the situation.
I don't, and nor am I historically ignorant. This guy is an idiot; I never said I liked him.
I didn't say anything about a ruling class, unless you think that legislative experience and ruling class amount to the same thing.
When you only let in select people based on arbitrary standards, then you're going to end up with career politicians without principles; that's the status quo.
You are a fool if you think that's all the government has been up to or all that it does. We're the strongest country in the world economically, politically, and militarily in large part because of the excellent work done by the U.S. federal government.
The economy and power matter far less to me than freedom. I have to commend them on their excellent ability to start pointless wars, though.
You are the problem.
You have no idea who I vote for, fool. I don't vote for either Republicans or Democrats, because they're worthless scumbags. I vote on principle. I vote for third party candidates who don't want to violate the constitution or our fundamental liberties.
Despite all the paranaoia and hyperbole, we are freer now than we have ever been in this country. Grow up and get some perspective.
No, you get some perspective. I can name of dozens of serious constitutional and rights violations occurring at this very minute. If what you care about is the economy and bullying other countries with military might, then you are shallow.
"The land of the free and the home of the brave" values freedom above all else. The fact that we're supposedly 'freer' than before is irrelevant, because the logic of "X is better than Y, so X is good!" is nonsensical; better != good, and our situation is still far from good.
If "freedom" means dysfunctional and ineffective government to you, save the rest of us the trouble and move to a third world country.
The government is very effective at infringing upon our individual liberties. Instead of oppressing select groups, they're now mainly trying to oppress everyone. Freedom, to me, means that the government isn't violating our fundamental liberties and the constitution. The political elite are doing just that right now. I think displacing them would be helpful, but not with people like this guy.
The reason we have things like the TSA, the Patriot Act, free speech zones, the NSA's spying, etc. is because we don't have enough people who stick to their principles. If having such people means gridlock, then I'm willing to make that 'sacrifice', and since freedom is what is important, you'd be a fool not to do the same.