There has never been a better time to be a person. The bright minds and busy hands behind technology will never cease to bring us edifying new inventions perfectly-suited to the purpose of spreading love and joy.

In an era when the only way to cow terr’rists is by being the biggest, meanest, bomb-droppingest terr’rist on the block, I bring you: The WASP Tactical Knife.

Today our soldiers face many new challenges and to overcome those challenges they deserve the most advanced equipment that is available to them. A simple knife is OK to have, but when it comes down to the last line of defense you want to be carrying something that will get the job done.

Yes, soldiers - if the tons of explosives you dropped from the sky didn’t kill everyone quite as well as you’d planned, you can pick up a knife which injects lethally-cold gas and stab those bombed-out civilians until they accept the freedom which you have so magnanimously brought to their hovels.

In other news, a thug in London decides to spend a few hundred pounds on his new weapon of choice.

cui bono?

to whose benefit? (from Latin)

A conspiracy may be defined as a plot between a group of people to commit an unlawful act - though, more generally, the concept of a conspiracy is known to mean an arrangement between a group of people to commit an act which, if revealed for its intent, would prove to be a scandal for the parties involved. Legality has fallen out of favor in the definition of a conspiracy for, while many conspiracies do involve illicit activity of some variety, the inner workings behind the rule of law have become a conspiracy unto themselves.

Consider the state secrets privilege as it applies to the immunity of telecommunications companies which disclosed information to law enforcement without observing due process, or the legality of Executive Orders (which, by their nature, are never brought to a vote). Rights are violated and wars are fought in the name of freedom because law is open to interpretation for those with the right level of privilege.

The concept of a conspiracy theory follows that of a conspiracy - the conspiracy theory is the idea of an arrangement between a group of people to commit an act which, if revealed for its intent, would prove to be a scandal for the parties involved. Conveniently enough, the term “conspiracy theory” receives a fair share of derision. Ideas determined to fall under the umbrella of conspiracy theories are quickly dismissed.

Consider some of the long list of ideas labeled conspiracy theories - many have no proof, many seem ridiculous, and all go against the grain of conventional wisdom (which, first and foremost, suggests that one should not advance theories which go against the grain of conventional wisdom).

Are some of these purported theories viable enough and profitable enough to garner the interest of those in a position to carry them out? Certainly - it stands to reason that the Business Plot, for example, truly occurred and, were it merely disseminated as a conspiracy theory, it would likely re-emerge as a bona fide conspiracy grounded in a highly-favorable risk/reward (plausible denial/greater power) ratio for an opportunistic business cabal.

The conscious decision made to file away conclusions which point to unethical business dealings which bleed into political dealings (and vice versa) under the blanket term of “conspiracy theories” is rarely made by an individual trained to identify anything which does not match the prevailing opinion and sanctioned story with chop-logic and psychosis.

The reality which is to be ignored: plutocrats run the show. They are willing to stoop lower, attack more viciously, and pursue control by any means without regard to the well-being of their opponents or constituents. They will not give up their positions, nor should they be expected to change. Money has proven an effective means for them to abstract their dominance from deception, physical slavery, brutality, and murder - but that does not mean they will not resort to these tactics time and again when there’s profit to be had.

Apparently this was news to the Department of Defense: the corpses of US soldiers have been incinerated aside the equally world-weary bodies of beloved pets.

The U.S. military has, since 2001, cremated some of the remains of U.S. service members killed in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere in a Delaware facility that also cremates pets . . . which is identified on a billboard as Friends Forever Pet Cremation Service.

- The Washington Post

I couldn’t be more proud to be an American. We do dishonor like no other can.

As an interesting aside, those who go in for deep Christian eschatology will be pleased to know that Friends Forever Pet Cremation Service is located at 666 South Dupont Highway and the end times are upon us.

The signs were always there, you just had to pay attention - now do your duty, die for your country, get burned in more ways than two.

The sun is coming down in the Western sky, sending a last wave of orange light over the housetops’ gleaming, symmetrical rows of asphalt shingles. In the lush green backyards of the callous middle-class glow coals saturated with the drippings of freshly seared meat while men in bleached white t-shirts stand over grills, waving metal spatulas with an air of authority.

They speak of the coming war as though it were another game of football, with teams in coordinated uniforms and easily-recognized wins and losses. They speak of the coming war with a cultured sanctimony towards the blasphemous luxury and government that surrounds them.

Chewing on ground cow, they spit out the news verbatim-true mimics of everything but the anchor man’s voice. A grim nod, a smug grin, and the lightly-voiced but deeply-held belief that “We’ll win out in the end” is restated.

Of course their side will prevail, for they have become the new Evil – the manifest destiny of a maladaptive species. No matter the consequence, each will continue along the path he has been told he wants.

Each will crave the attention and respect he has been taught to flaunt. Inner-violence will continue, each American will compete ruthlessly with the next, but this will not slow the pack.

Sport utility vehicles with plastic flags boldy affixed to their antennae are thundering down the street well past the speed limit. The police are laughing, keeping tabs on the race with their radar guns. Click, a pull of the trigger and the red LED readout spells “129″. Now they’re taking the curves downtown, a tornado of axles and rubber bowling over the homeless people who push shopping carts full of moldy beer cans.

Mothers still tell their children it’s all going to be okay. This is still the best place to live, even if the schools are packed with vegetables and no one ever has the right of way unless a baseball bat is involved.

The perennial national pass-time is hate, and the crowd screams, “Batter up!”

Anyone who has ever stared into a mirror, truly intent upon the state of the world, the state of his or her own affairs, and turned away after seeing nothing more than a blank stare knows what I mean when I ask, “Why this?”

Why this dysfunctional world full of idiocy masquerading as salvation, hyperbole and hypocritical idealism? Doesn’t the mere thought of how miniscule our world and its affairs are in relation to the universe make you want to turn to the next person that tries to sell you something and say, “Isn’t there something more useful you could be doing?”

Don’t the streets full of strangers make you wish that everyone could just be honest and decent? If everyone cooperated there would be no reason to rob, kill, steal, lie, or even hope. If everyone cooperated everything would work out fine and, while no one would ever truly have everything they wanted, people might just realize that wanting isn’t the meaning of life.

Charlatans peddling real estate in heaven, noble souls each enslaved to their own “bottom line”, these are the heirmarks of human society (past, present, et cetera).

No longer do we even care to see a better future-all are too caught up in the lingering debts of yesterday and the turmoil of the present.

I, an insomniac, am compelled to refuse many things.

I refuse to live in this intolerable mess of a world.

I refuse to die, as I would be giving in to myself and my nature.

I refuse to love others, knowing that they will inevitably disappoint me.

I refuse to hate others, seeing this as a kind of bigotry that must not be allowed to control me.

I refuse to go on - I am not up to this task of unending maintenance and cyclical thinking - I am worn out.

I refuse to refrain from going on, as it would please too many of those I wish to displease - I will tap out a message of unrest indefinitely.

I will contradict myself always.

My refusal to sleep is perhaps the most frustrating issue at hand. I have found myself caught up (again) in a strange state of excitement, both anxious and anticipatory.

If I close my eyes, I will wake in a few hours and the stress of enduring the coming minutes will seem as nothing… and the temptation to simply remain conscious is a hard thing to ignore, as I cannot bear to think that I might oversleep and be deprived of the minor triumph over nature that is waking before dawn.

Would it be a greater triumph to circumvent the notion of sleep and exist in a constant stream of conscious thought? Other refusals seem pertinent.

I refuse to participate in the self-absorption of others, as this is a pastime both distressing and completely unfulfilling on my part.

I refuse to condone self-depreciation, even though I fully intend to continue depreciating myself. (My favorite game to play, being a self-absorbed megalomaniacal narcissist)

I refuse to be wrong, even if this means contradicting myself. I am at conflict with myself here, attempting to portray both the starving artist and the decadent consumer in one misshapen package.

My refusal is not to be taken seriously. I believe in what I perceive only half-heartedly. I am a reluctant skeptic.

I refuse to excuse myself from this dualistic little rant on the basis that I need sleep.

I refuse to now deny the truth of what I have said, even if I should later recant upon it.

I refuse to continue writing this, as I have almost undoubtedly proven myself to be a fool by allowing my angst to be expressed - even if this is catharsis.