Chapter 11

Alright, time to get back on track...the railroad of society has held me back long enough, and I'll be fucked if I'm not writing something at least mildly bitchy and moderately informative.

I should point out that I received a response email from the pepsi Company about my opinion of their contest. They asked me very nicely if I would send them the PIN numbers that I had tried that did not work. I thought this a kind gesture, as I did not expect to be responded to at all. I gladly sent them seven PINs, four of which I knew did not work, to have them verify. I did not realize that I had put too much hope in the bastards when they replied, because I sent those PINs weeks ago now, and haven't heard of word of reply since.

In other fucking bullshit news, apparently Coca-Cola's contest is -not- hacked all to hell, and actually works...I may be changing my taste in colas very soon.

I am sitting in a large complex, spliced down the middle, known on one side as a Community Access Centre, the other side, a Tourist Information Centre. I am typing away on a computer that costs $5 to use for 30 minutes, unless one decides to buy a day-pass for $10. It is fucking amazing to see people walk in and complain about having to pay a small fee to keep in touch with family and loved ones, as if doing so is not worth their hard-earned, or, in some instances, not-so-hard-earned, money. These lazy swine can pay $3 for a fucking ice-cream cone, but communication to relatives or significant others thousands of miles away is not worth two more fucking dollars.

Shows where people hold their priorities, I suppose...

But I shouldn't judge. I am only myself, I am not someone else, and therefore, because of this, I cannot fully comprehend, nor even begin to do so, the reasoning behind the choices that other people make...yet I just stood up to greet a couple who entered our side of the building, eyes full of hope and anticipation. I informed them of the rates for computer use, and, while the man seemed unphased, the woman's eyes quickly lost that glimmer of excitement about communication with the outside world. "Five dollars...?" She whispered to her partner, which was really unnecessary, since it is very likely that, since I heard her words clearly, then so did my manager and the other customer already sitting at a computer willing to pay the price for being away from those she loves so that she might keep in touch with them.

Is it strange that I'm reading the fucking Divine Comedy while this bullshit is unfolding right before my very eyes? Somehow I think not...

As I was speaking of choices, I am finding myself more and more generally pissed off at those around me, because in their ignorance of all there is in this world, I see myself slowly slipping into their apathetic bent. I have seen and walked the grounds of countries from which our entire civilization was formed. I have stood, and quoted lines, on the stage of the greatest stage theatre in the world. I have studied and read texts within the most prestigious library in the world for courses taken at the most famous university in the world...and yet, right now...I find myself unable to find motivation, at times, to even read a book that I -want- to read. I have the desire to read it...I just cannot seem to find the motivation to do so.

This troubles and scares me greatly.

One might think I have been the same way with this site, having barely written since the school year ended. It isn't the fact that I have not been motivated...simply that I have been uninspired. For a long time, I could not get inspired with anything worthy enough to put down in this blog.

Ganja gumballs...? Wow...someone should've thought of that shit earlier...too bad they were too stupid to not blab it in public.

Anyway, where was I? Oh. Inspiration. I finally came to an epiphany of sorts in which I realized that I did not need inspiration for my writing of this...column, if you will, but that the lack of inspiration was an actual source of inspiration in itself.

Global warming isn't a problem, you say? I see that I've travelled back in time twenty or thirty years, to when it really WASN'T a problem. Open your fucking eyes, you pigs, and take a look at California! 123 deaths due to tempuratures unwilling to drop below 100 degrees for two straight weeks! How fucking often do you see that, you fools!? Of course my bitching won't stop the elitist fat-fuck companies from continuing to pour smog and gaseous shit into the atmosphere, further destroying the only safeguard we have against the fatal rays of the sun. They'll simply colonize the nearby planets with all their money and destroy those worlds, leaving us here in their squallor.

Chapter whatever, fuck off, I'm tired.

I fucking hate this thing...I just wrote a huge rant on how pissed I am at Pepsi...and because computers are all fucking pieces of shit, it's now gone...so read this and shut up, I need sleep. This is my response to Pepsi about their shitty contest, and how it doesn't fucking work.

I hate to be the one to rain excrement on your little carnival, but I think there's little problem with your 'contest'.
I've signed up and purchased four (4) 591ml bottles with PIN codes under the labels, and I can assure you that your dandy little site here hasn't accepted a single one. Am I to assume that this means that someone has already entered it? If this is the case, then you're entire contest has been compromised. I notice that all the PIN numbers on these four bottle are strikingly similar. If some bloody moron can crack four of the codes, just how many do you think he's gotten already? I thought a corporation as high and mighty as Pepsi would have enough money and hired brain-power to come up with some sort of high-powered, cybernetic security system to wipe out the hard-drives of little shits who try, and succeed, at cheating the system. If not, try sticking those damned tabs inside the bottle caps again. At least then I won't be screwed out of something I paid for...