Rageboy's Got Himself a New Soapbox

From which he is declaiming things like this about what we're up to:

Scary. And beautiful. Magnificent, in fact. What we are seeing today on the web -- discounting the plethora of corporate spew -- is the emergence of ourselves as human beings discovering what it means to be human. If you're not doing that, do it. Spook yourself. If you're already spooked, don't quit now. We've only begun to scratch the surface. Why is the net getting so much pushback from the top-down hierarchies of power that freak if they can't control everything. Because it's working, that's why. We're giving ourselves permission to be outlaws.

Cool, huh?

If I may say so: spook for yourself. (Heh. I have a cold, I'm running a fever ~ that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.)

Fine Whine

Pity me. Pity me mightily!

I have an awful cold. I don't get sick very often, but when I do, all I want is to be pampered and catered to and, sadly, that never happens. At least not since I lived at home and my Mom brought me ginger ale and nourishing soup. I am laughably, grovellingly grateful when people are nice to me when I'm ill.

I can barely think, my head is a fountain of unmentionable mucus (and that's AFTER taking medication). I'm sneezing. A lot.

I missed a morning coffee with fellow blogger Russ of Who will go for us?, whose birthday is today due to this stupid cold. Furthermore, I didn't realize it was his birthday. Happy Birthday, Russ! (On the other hand, at least I didn't unintentionally give him a really nasty cold for a birthday present.)

Did I mention that I have a really miserable cold? I am the Queen of Pathetic, the Empress of Pitiable. Woe is me! I am so very, very useless when I'm sick. It's a wonder I can even manage to post this sad excuse for a rant.

I wonder where I could get a headectomy at this hour?

Computer 'turned teacher into killer'

Could we rewrite this headline, please?

How about:

Sick fuck seeks out material (made by other sick fucks) pertaining to his sick fantasies that reinforces his urge to act them out.

I suppose it's not quite as punchy, but I do believe it to be significantly more accurate.

The 30-year-old, who was suffering from a personality disorder, admitted murder and attempted murder at Manchester Crown Court....

Clarke rang the police two days after the killing and asked them to arrest him, telling a detective: "I won't be any trouble... I just need to stop doing this."

I think it's likely that repeatedly seeing your insane or criminal urges acted out, or written about, can make them seem more acceptable and perhaps even feed the urge to experience them. But the key thing here has to be a serious predisposition.

Alan Conrad QC, prosecuting, said detectives found evidence on Clarke's computer relating to various sites dealing with torture and murder.

Peter Wright QC, defending, said his client was suffering from a personality disorder, but had now expressed the desire to receive treatment.

Manchester Recorder, Judge Sir Rhys Davies, told Clarke he was "an intelligent but deeply disturbed and dangerous man".

The court sent him to jail for life.

You Need to Read This

Drop everything and go read Real Live Preacher. You'll want to start at the beginning. The man can write, and he's writing about the stuff that matters.

Eventually the conversation turned to God. Earl was a thoroughgoing atheist. Not angry. Not defensive. No need to convince anyone to join him. Very rational. He celebrated my calling to the ministry and was genuinely interested in the classes I was taking.

One night we were sitting at our desk and a bookmarker fell out of whatever the hell Earl was reading. It was a construction paper cross with "Jesus loves you Daddy" written on it in crayon.

I picked it up and looked at him. "Earl?"

It was given to him by his daughter who went to church with her mother. Like lots of little kids, she really, really loved Jesus.

I asked Earl if he minded his daughter going to church.

"Absolutely not, he said. "Whatever gets you through the night." He punctuated this with a thumbs-up. "Plus, she gave it to me because she loves me."

At that time the preacher was newly married. Later I would discover how your child can pull your heart out of your chest with a little gesture like that.

He cradled the small cross in his large hands. For a moment our heads were bowed across the desk in adoration of this little icon of love.

Straight to the blogroll with you, Preacherman!

[via Farr Feed]