Gadhra dot Com

Someone (and I don’t know who) once said that the lottery is a tax on people who are bad at math. I’ve always felt that this was true, and turned my nose up sneeringly at people who play the lottery, little old ladies throwing down their hard earned cash on the chance that they’ll be hit by lightning.

Nevertheless, I have been dreaming of winning the lottery quite frequently. I sit on the train and gaze quietly out the window and fantasize about a life that doesn’t so closely resemble Hell. People say that money doesn’t really change anything, a “no matter where you go, there you are” attitude that I ascribed to but now realize is the mantra of those who are actually going nowhere, a metaphysical teddy-bear we can hold to protect us against the plague of doubts that we are headed through the darkness down the wrong road.

Don’t think that you, collective friends of mine, won’t benefit from my winning the lottery. I pass the time concocting elaborate scenarios to dispense my winnnings to my friends and family; I am a magnanimous benefactor in my dreams, bestowing happiness upon those who surround me like a sultan from the pages of Arabian Nights.

I pass my days reading and writing, working on my farm, playing with my dog. I fund noble causes. I make smart investments, protect my loved ones, establish futures. I am a little God, flush with benevolence.

Then, the train pulls into the station and I realize I am an overweight, overworked, and overtired loser who likes to whine bitterly in his blog to an audience I never see. I throw my bag on, prepare to work another endless day, and pass by the bodega on the way to work and check out how much the NY State Lottery is up to.

“Fifty eight million dollars,” I think to myself. “I take the payout, then pay off taxes – that leaves me with about 14.5 million. First, I’ll pay off my parents’ mortgage…”

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I put my man Korzak on assignment awhile back, to find me a video from the Dave Letterman show in which George Bush cleans his glasses on Maria Pope, the producer of the David Letterman show, without her knowledge, like she was some kind of chamois rag. It was just after Bush won, and he was on Letterman heeing and hawing or whatever it is he does. I think I saw him wave to his friends in the bin Laden family in the front row, but I can’t confirm that.

Anyway, long story short – Korzak found the video. He wants me to relay the message that he’s some sort of nerd God (Dorkanus or something) and that he and he alone found this elusive video.

All kidding aside, I find this action by the President to be the summation of his term in office; his legacy, if you will. We, the people of the United States, are nothing more to him than furniture. His wealth and his presidency were built on the backs of people like you, me, your parents, your teachers, and (probably) most of your friends. To treat human beings with such blatant disregard has been the clarion call of these past 4 years, starting with the subversion of the will of the People (in a majority vote) to the government that so many have given blood and lives for.

I’m a cynical man, to be sure. I don’t believe in the veneer of nationalism that we call “patriotism” (regardless of country) or that we should stand by any country right or wrong. But I believe that people as a whole strive to do good things; that democracy may be flawed, but it’s a process along the way to a society that can live with each other equally; and, most importantly, in the sanctity of human life and the joy of people just being people. We aren’t pieces of furniture for those with more money to do with as they please. I hope – truly pray to a God I don’t even believe in – that the rest of the American people realize their self-worth as well, and vote that asshole straight back to Texas.

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Did you like how I played with the “W” in the title between today and 2 days ago? I know you do, you goddamn liar. Say it. SAAYYY ITT!

So yeah – email’s working again, so feel free to email me and I’ll continue to ignore you. Korzak actually tried to tell me that he had e-mailed me the winning Power Ball numbers and they had somehow gotten lost, but little does he know that I’ve already won the Power Ball, and I’m going to use my newfound wealth to make him suffer in ways unimaginable to even Pol Pot. I’m going to spend money on so many robots it’ll make the final scene of the Matrix Revolutions seem like 2 dudes playing with an Aibo. I’ll use my wealth to crush his miserable little soul.

I’ll also be buying myself a pony and an iPod.

Last month, the 2 google search terms that turned up people to my site were “fuckmouth” and “groin.” I look forward to continuing this fine tradition in the future.

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In case you’ve been emailing me, breathlessly expecting a response, and not getting any – my email has been down for almost 5 days now. I’m kind of in this “no man’s land” in regards to mail at this point; I would certainly like to receive email, but I’m not. In addition, I forgot my cell phone today, so I feel terribly incommunicado. This has got me to thinking about the shackles of communication that tether me (and others) to the world, bands of optical wire more powerful than any prison. I’d love for you to talk to me about this, but you can’t, which kind of brings me back to my original point. It’s a day filled with irony.

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Whew! Hell of a week. I actually stayed in a hotel on Wednesday – the beautiful and scenic Hotel 17, which is quite nice. It’s got kind of an Indiana Jones/Orient Express decor – very Art Deco – and you feel like some sort of adventurer staying there. It’s clean, and at $80/night it’s one of the cheapest places in NYC. You have to share a bathroom, but what the hey. It’s not like I can see the bacteria, after all.

We’re trying to get a roof for the house, and the grass cut, and about a million other things. I’ve been busy staving off the panic that I made a poor decision by quitting my job and striking out on my own, but hopefully all that will go away soon. I’m working hard enough, God knows, so forgetting has been surprisingly easy.

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