Mondays

I’m not normally the type of person to hate Mondays. For much of my working life so far, my work week has been variable and so Monday meant as little to me as Wednesday. However, now that I have a job with a weekend and a Monday start, I can kind of understand that sentiment. Even so, it was a day, and I can do what I need to.

Unless, of course, I catch a sinus cold over the weekend. Now the article I have to write is fighting me tooth and nail while the rain pounds outside. I write a sentence, maybe two, before having to take a break and do something else until I can wrangle the words into order again.

Ironically, this little piece is taking me much less effort to write.

Why, brain? Why do you hate me so?

Why must it be Monday?

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Ideas, ideas, ideas…

This week has been fruitful for the plot bunnies. A plot came to me in a dream, as cliche as it sounds. While I doubt the story will start with opening a door in the sky in Minecraft, as the dream did, it will feature the main idea from the dream.

Imagine that you wake up in a house, a mansion, with no memory of arriving there. As you walk the halls, you notice that the walls are all brick. You see one with the name Victor, but that means nothing to you, so you move on.

In the dining room, which has a lavish breakfast full of all of your favorites, you find a note next to the only plate. “Within these walls lies a brick with your name. Find it and gain an inexhaustible fortune. If you fail, you will die here.”

As the days pass, you find yourself wanting for nothing. Entertainment is provided in the manner of your choosing – television, books, magazines, even single-player video games. Even socialization is possible, though limited to letters sent to an anonymous individual who responds.

Theoretically, you could live here, but you want your freedom. How long does it take for the madness to creep in? Will you ever find your name, or will you be consumed by the thought?

Serious Stuff

Okay, so after taking a while to think on what’s happening in the United States, I’ve come to a conclusion:

Both the left and the right are correct in their interpretations of the First Amendment.

For the left: The first amendment doesn’t allow speech that could cause harm. Marching down the street with torches calling for violence? Yeah, that causes harm. Don’t do that.

For the right: The government cannot interfere with your right to say what you want. So yeah, say blacks are inferior or gays can’t marry or whatever. I may not like it, but I’ll defend your right to say it.

I’ve heard some say that if we censor this speech, we’re paving the way to the elimination of the First Amendment entirely. I’m calling BS on that. For one, we’re not calling for all speech to be punished. We’re only calling for the speech that incites riots and violence against marginalized groups to be censored.

Secondly, we have more than two hundred years of judicial precedence to show that the first amendment is alive and kicking. Sure, we may not agree with some interpretations of it, but it’s in no danger. Not even a executive order can eliminate that right, as Trump found when his executive orders were challenged in court.

By all means, stand up to racism. The first amendment only says that the GOVERNMENT can’t censor speech. We the people, as a civic body, bloody well CAN censor speech we deem inappropriate. The government can’t throw you in jail for calling blacks inferior, but we WILL call you out and shame you for it.

Poetic thought

I have a short, poetic thought that occurred to me as Facebook notified me about my birthday tomorrow.

Today is the last day of my 20s. Tomorrow is the first day of my 30s.

Now excuse me while I have an existential crisis.