Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Breaking Out Of The Big House

Well, that's done. I'm free and clear. Out of the joint. On the lam. Released from the cooler. Yesterday I was released from thirty days in stir (otherwise known as thirty days of totally wrongful and unjustified suspension) from Facebook Jail. Or as I like to call it, the Chateau d'If. It was time well spent, mind you. This American pilot was in his cell throwing baseballs against the wall and asking what I know about moles. An old priest was helping me dig my way out and making mention of a treasure in a place called Monte Cristo. And Morgan Freeman was narrating the whole escape sequence.

It had been quite awhile since my last suspension, but I've been suspended before from Facebook. Each time it was for violating their so called "community standards". Each of those times I would swear up and down that I never came close to violating their community standards. That said, Facebook offers no avenue of appeal, and offers only silence to any objection to a suspension. They throw you out without so much as a second thought and never respond in any meaningful way. In the long run, that sort of thing is going to wind up destroying the site. Just putting that out there.

In those thirty days, I was restricted to viewing only. No posting, no likes, no messages. I know I've missed several birthdays. During a previous suspension, I even missed my own birthday- the height of irony, getting the automatic message from the dirtbags who suspended me in the first place: a happy birthday greetings from Facebook. 

This particular time, as I mentioned in a post earlier this month, it was for insulting a member of Ford Nation (come to think of it, a previous suspension had been for insulting another Ford Nationite). But the remark in question didn't come close to violating their community standards. To be honest, if you were going to throw me out, the other guy's remarks were worse, and would have warranted the same. But no, if you're a repeat offender (totally unwarranted, again, I'm just saying), Facebook tells you in their own way to go fuck yourself and tosses you out for a month. Or more. 

The community standards, of course, are a joke, a two faced hypocrisy. I've lost track of how many times I've reported remarks that have crossed the line, and yet in Facebook's opinion... "that does not violate our community standards." I've seen white supremacists, racists, bigots, and all sorts of hate mongering filth get away with whatever they want to say. Take this, for instance. 

"Whites are always gonna be the dominant race and everyone is hating on that fact. Call us racists all you want, fix your own situations before blaming the whites for ur problems (see Africa)"

That comment comes from an accountant of all things in my home town. And yet Facebook finds that comment perfectly acceptable. A comment that a white supremacist would love. Let's face it, the guy is a white supremacist. We've got a few of those extremist organizations up here too, unfortunately.

But he gets a pass from Facebook, which persists in throwing people out for no just cause, without so much as an opportunity to object or argue against it. It is nothing more than rank, two faced hypocrisy.

I know where the impulse to be snarky with jerks, twits, and knuckle-dragging buffoons comes from. The plain fact is that I spent far too much time being civil to assholes (the various exes of my sisters come to mind, and let's be honest, there are good reasons I'd prefer to never speak to my sisters themselves either, so they qualify for the title too). And that was all for naught.

So these days I don't see the point in being civil to assholes and biting my tongue.

Especially when it's so much more fun treating them with the derision and contempt they deserve.

I suppose it's just a matter of time before I get suspended again, and surely there'll be a betting pool running on how long that takes. I'm not surprised when it happens. This is the nature of what the site has become. It proclaims itself a social network and yet proving to be anything but. It throws one person out without cause, while giving free rein to hate mongerers. Sidewinding, two faced, sanctimonious hypocrites.

To Mark Zuckerberg and the rest of the hypocritical howling jackals at Facebook, I can only sum up things in this way.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now we come to see what the cat thinks of all this. Your Majesty? The floor is yours.

7:21 AM. Waking up at home. Taking a big stretch. One of those is essential to starting the day off right, after all. To be followed by the first orders of the day to the staff. Which reminds me, where is the staff?

7:24 AM. The sounds from upstairs indicate the staff is showering. I am therefore killing time staring out the window at my lawn and brooding. There are far too many flying lunches on my lawn. I shall have to take the initiative about that post haste.

7:31 AM. The staff finally makes her way downstairs. I deliver greetings by way of a head bonk to the leg. Well, it’s about time, staff. Now then, have you put any thought into my breakfast? Because I have had not so much as a bite to eat since last evening.

7:35 AM. The staff delivers my breakfast in the form of a bowl of chicken with a side of milk. And for whatever reason she thinks a bowl of field rations are perfectly acceptable on the side. I make a point of ignoring the field rations as I dive into the task of eating the chicken. Tastes like flying lunches.

7:37 AM. Finished breakfast. Setting aside the field rations in case I get desperate later in the day.

7:46 AM. Circling around the staff’s legs while she’s having breakfast. She’s staying home today, so that means she gets to spoil me rotten all day long and attend to my every hope, dream, and personal whim.

7:49 AM. Staring outside the window. I can hear the distant barking of that annoying mutt. Staff, would you mind opening the door? I feel like glowering a bit on my deck if that vile hound shows up here soon.

7:57 AM. Sitting out on the deck, watching my property. No sign of the mutt. Rather warm today. You know, it wouldn’t hurt to have myself forty winks or so, right? Even if I’ve only been awake barely an hour. As I always say, you can never have too many naps.

8:20 AM. Lightly dozing. Semi-aware of my surroundings. More interested in keeping my eyes closed and dozing.

8:22 AM. Suddenly startled to full wakefulness by the boom of a very large bark. I jump upright on the deck, turn, and there’s that irritating mutt looking like he’s laughing at something he finds hilarious. 

8:23 AM. Chasing that annoying dog off my property, driven by pure rage and kitty vindictiveness. How dare you interrupt my forty winks! Come back here, you vile canine! Just take what you’ve more than got coming to you!

8:25 AM. The dog has retreated into the woods. I stop where I am and express my fury with an exceptional amount of hissing. Somewhere along the line I cast doubts on his parentage and use a few choice curse words.

8:27 AM. Heading back out of the woods, in a thoroughly foul mood. Dogs!

8:30 AM. Demanding loudly that the staff let me back in. Right now, staff!

8:31 AM. Staff, have I told you how annoying dogs are? Because they really are.

8:33 AM. The staff gives me a scratch and rub just under the chin, right where she knows I like that. Suddenly all that thoroughly foul mood I was in just melts away. Very well done, staff, very well done indeed.

8:56 AM. Settling down for a nap. Staff, wake me up if you’re having an early lunch.

11:32 AM. Awake. Too early for lunch. Speaking of lunch, are there any of those flying lunches out on my lawn?

12:03 PM. Lunch with the staff. She gives me slices of ham and mozzarella. Very good, staff.

1:16 PM. Chasing some of those flying lunches away from my lawn. If you guys didn’t have fast wings, you’d be an afternoon snack right about now.

1:25 PM. Trying to catch some dragonflies as they dart about. The staff is watching me. She says something about leaving them alone, since they eat those pesky mosquitoes. Yes, well, staff, that’s easy for you to say, but you don’t have a pounce instinct. All cats come equipped with one of those with a lifetime warranty.

4:37 PM. Waking up from my latest nap. Feeling refreshed and eager to see what kind of mischief I can get into.

5:49 PM. Supervising the staff while she’s making dinner. It smells good, if you ask me, and of course you are asking me, because who else am I talking to right now? Or is that too metaphysical and fourth wall breaking for you to deal with?

6:22 PM. Dinner with the staff. Some nice steak chunks appeal to me greatly.

7:59 PM. Launching an all out assault on the scratching post. The staff asks if I got into the catnip.

11:33 PM. The staff is on her way and off to bed. Good night, staff. I’ll stay down here for now. Do be a dear and keep the door open. Just in case I want to come on up and jump on top of you at four in the morning for the third time this week.

Monday, August 22, 2016

A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once again for the point of view of the resident dog and cat, starting off as always with that of the hound...

7:22 AM. Waking up. Had dreams of devouring leftover steak. I wonder if we’ve got any leftover steak in the fridge. I could find out myself, but I suffer from the disadvantage of not having opposable thumbs.

7:26 AM. Having a look out the front window. It looks like a nice, pleasant day. Some birds are out there on the lawn, pecking away. If I was out there right now, I’d be barking up a storm and chasing you all off.

7:33 AM. The human comes downstairs. I wag my tail with a furious energy in greetings. Hello, human! Isn’t it a lovely day? Say, have you been putting any thought into breakfast? Because I’d love to wolf down a bowl of kibbles right about now. I’m just saying.

7:35 AM. Chowing down my breakfast. Kibbles are yummy first thing in the morning.

7:41 AM. Out the back door for my morning run. See you later, human! 

7:48 AM. Running through the back fields, barking my head off. Woof woof woof!

7:57 AM. Stopping by to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!

7:58 AM. Spike and I greet each other in the customary doggie fashion and then begin to confer on the movements of the enemy. And by the enemy, I refer of course to the despicable ne’er do wells known as the squirrels.

8:01 AM. Spike and I wonder if the increased chatter of the squirrels lately means they’re up to something. I suggest that they might be plotting something nefarious and vile, like an all out raid on the bird feed stocks the humans will be buying soon. Spike says he wouldn’t put anything past the squirrels, what with them being squirrels and all.

8:03 AM. Parting ways with Spike. We agree to keep a close eye out for squirrels and mailmen.

8:19 AM. Passing by the home of that cranky cat. Well, there she is, out on the deck. Pondering the wisdom as to venturing over there. Oh, why not? I think I should go say hello. Top of the morning to you, and maybe bark my head off. What’s the worst that can happen?

8:20 AM. Wagging my tail as I walk across the lawn. The cat hasn’t noticed me yet.

8:21 AM. Closing in on the cat. Still haven’t been noticed. Looks like she’s dozing.

8:22 AM. Despite my better judgment, which, admittedly, I wasn’t listening to when I pondered whether or not I should come onto the property for all of 0.0006 seconds, and which would tell me that I should just turn around and leave her to sleep in peace, I can’t resist.

I let out one loud woof.

8:23 AM. Running for my life with that cranky cat at my heels, wagging my tail, thoroughly pleased with myself.

8:25 AM. Back in the woods. The cranky cat has broken off the pursuit. 

8:39 AM. Coming back home. Barking to alert the human to my presence. 

8:43 AM. Circling around on the living room rug three times before settling down for my morning nap. Note to self: set the internal alarm clock to wake up before noon. We can’t miss out on mooching opportunities, after all.

11:57 AM. Waking up. Checking the clock. Ah, good, I didn’t sleep through lunch.

12:11 PM. Mooching  a couple of dinner rolls from the human. Yum yum yum!

1:03 PM. The human asks if I want to go for a ride. Human, you don’t even have to ask. Though I must raise two points. First, if we leave now, that deprives me of the chance to bark at the mailman when he shows up. Second, are we going for a ride, or is this your way of tricking me into a visit to the vet?

2:17 PM. Running around in the park in town, splashing around in the lake, catching a stick for the human. Having a ball. Does life ever get any better than this? I don’t think so.

2:46 PM. The human’s treating me to an ice cream cone. Yum yum yum!

6:21 PM. Dinner with the human. Some cuts of steak for me. Human? Have I told you lately that I love you?

8:40 PM. Engaging in a serious session of chase the tail. The human looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

11:29 PM. The human is off to bed. Good night, human! Sleep well! Never fear, I’ll keep a close eye on the house and guard against an invasion of squirrels. Right after I catch forty winks.