Orwellian Ordeal

7:06pm. I reported the assaults of malware and impersonation to Blogger for all the good it will do. At least it's more fulfilling than empty headed partying at such a dark time in my life. Pardon me, but this is fucking miserable. 7:02pm WHEN WILL MY PROFILE PORTRAIT NOT SHOW AN UGLY BLACK LINE FOR THE CROOKED INDUSTRY'S NEW FAVOURITE WITH MY WORK? 6:59pm WHY ARE THERE HORIZONTAL LINES ACROSS THE VIDEO ON THIS PAGE NOW, SHOWING THAT THE VIEWS OF A VICTIM ARE BEING STOLEN TO MAKE HIS ASSAILANTS LOOK POPULAR? The joke's on you if you trust your TV. 6:57pm AND WHO HAS THEIR FACE STUCK OVER MINE IN MY PROFILE ON MY POETRY INDEX AS I JUST RECORDED WITH MY VIDEO CAMERA? ARE YOU CHICKS LOVING HIM ALL UP? OR IS IT A WOMAN? I WOULDN'T KNOW. I DON'T BROWSE! 6:54pm And while you're talking to the pirates of the Peak, could you ask them WHO HAS THEIR FACE STUCK IN OVER MINE IN MY PROFILE PHOTO ON MY LYRICS INDEX AT 6:55PM AS I JUST RECORDED WITH MY VIDEO CAMERA? Oh, should I have pulled down my wet socks for the video so I could look like I didn't need to wash them in the tub after broadcasters made millions of dollars from my work and left me unpaid? Why don't you get Tina Fey to go on TV and slander me again with them, now that she's been released from confinement to party over her victim's living corpse? Did you ever read Orwell's 1984? At the climax of the story, the victim hero, Winston Smith, sits in the chair of interrogation at the Ministry of Love. His brutal inquisitor, O'Brien, asks him, 'how does one confirm his power over others?' Winston replies, 'by making them suffer.' O'Brien tells him that he is right, for only by making someone suffer can you be sure that he is following your will and not his own. And I have sustained an awful lot of suffering at the hands of power. They are certainly in control of my well being. And I wish I'd never read that book. In fact, I wish I'd never been born into this world. You'll find that cartoon posted with my other Wally cartoons in my We're All Dying blog on this page. Just click on it to enlarge it. 6:14pm. Before I continue on this theme, I want to ask about the event being held in front of the scene of so many music crimes here in Vancouver, the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. What band is playing? Who wrote their music? Could it be the same author who wrote All My Money, Arise, Assault, Beguiled, Canopy, Chair, Easy, Ectomorph, Fantasies, Fool, Fool's Paradise, Fortune, Free, Goddess, Godspeed, Harmony, Lifeless, Mischief, More Sold Out, Nonplussed, Outside, Prone, Rusty, Size, Smile, Spoils, Therapy, and Virtue, to name of few of my own songs that I heard the radio illegally playing? And most recently, Slings and Arrows? Ask 102.7, the Pike, the radio station that broadcast all these songs of mine to let frauds be rewarded with sex for stealing my work and telling the world lies about my dick. Just a little extra note about this: frauds are always ready to party with my work because they suffer no trauma from their crime. When you're a rotten, song stealing prick and all you do is heap abuse on your innocent victim, you must always be in a partying mood. But when you're like me, constantly recovering from deep emotional injuries caused by crimes committed with your work, you hardly ever feel like partying. The more they want to 'party', the more suspicious you should be of them. And now, back to my theme. I thought of another close comparison of this nightmare world of broadcast tyranny to Orwell's Oceana. Winston Smith's job was to alter old newspaper stories to conform with the present position of his government. Orwell must have got the idea from learning how Stalin would remove the faces of public figures from the record during his terrible regime. And the way our broadcasters are trying to present the Iraq War without any mention of the comedy and music that was so popular at that time, in order to remove my presence from history, is identical to both Stalin and 1984's Ministry of Truth. There is one sharp contrast, however, between the brutality envisioned by Orwell and that which is practiced by culpable broadcasters today. The brutality practiced by the Orwell's thought police was fierce and frontal, whereas broadcasters rely much more on treachery. Their brutality is not frontal, which would at least give me a chance to decapitate one of them with my fist before I went down, but cowardly and backstabbing in nature.
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