Firstly, Thank you Technorati Search, for you have revealed yet another mother fucker who, in their need to post original content, rips it off from other people.

That aside. I was just logging on this evening to my blog, checking out a little list that Technorati assembles that gathers links, content, etc from blogs all over the internet when I saw this. I like to go and read some of the sites that link my way, because often enough, if they like me, they may, at very least, have some content I like, or a blogroll through which I’d like to browse. That point aside, I stumbled across a very familiar wording and it caught my attention.

You may recognize the above post because it was posted here originally, by me.

Bastard.

Feel free to unleash your rage. I was…put out by it myself, and oh, imitation may be the purest form of flattery, this isn’t flattering in the least.

To my plagiarist:
You are simply copying my words, you don’t have a fucking idea of the meaning, emotion and reasons behind them. Take down my work.

Having been defeated in battle, the solider barely was able to escape with his life. Playing dead isn’t for everyone, but the bullets and barbed whips had cut through the skin, the muscle, until it felt as if they were striking the bones of his back and thighs. He was bleeding profusely, able only to drag himself a few inches and with only the greatest expense of energy. Perhaps it was pity more than anything else that keep him alive. He was a shadow of his former self. What danger could he present?

The uniform he had donned, once pristine white, to adorn and perfect his appearance, to identify his stature, his power, his allegiance, was hanging off of his body, some of it torn and bloody, the other fitting so loosely he wondered if he had lost something greater than blood in the pit. That is what they called that dirty sand. It was a place people went in whole and came out lessened. He had no way to tell how much ‘lessened’ he was, the pain was indiscriminant, everywhere. He prayed to his savior for sleep, the bliss of unconsciousness, but it never came.

The inches gradually became greater, but each one at a tremendous cost to himself. He knew the wounds closed at some point, but the scars were raised and still an ugly red, striking a hot path over every inch of his back. He kept the reasons for those scars to himself; no soldier wants to announce that he wasn’t good enough to succeed where others had failed. He didn’t want to be one of ‘them,’ those people that seemed to be purely about the ends and not ethics that got them there.

The next time he went into battle, he dressed himself, but left off the banners marking his allegiance, didn’t display his bullets and kept the dress whites in the closet - they were only for those that want to make themselves a target. He left defeated again. The pit had gained another drop of his precious blood, renewed those angry scars on his back and he felt each on as he walked out. Walked out, and went home promptly and collapsed.

It wasn’t inches that he made this time, but feet, yards, miles, and he appreciated each one for the inches they held. Inches are, after all, precious - valuable- commodities. Eventually, they add up.

He was not defeated.

The scars were there, and would likely never fade into oblivion. It bothered him somewhat over the years and battles that followed that they were renewed from time to time, additions made to them, but he had learned to accept a certain degree of pain comes with making the effort. Showing up is always the first leg of any battle because, somehow, planning never prepared him enough.

He still battles, this soldier, yet sometimes he actually wins. Today, this soldier won, despite odds, his own doubts, his weariness, his fatigue and his rather obnoxious bright red button that proclaimed today everyone needed to ‘fuck off.’

Wearing dress whites is fun even if it gets you shot.

Tell me how you understand this post.

I’ve got a hectic week ahead of me and have already put in just over 12 hours today alone. I’d like to be able to identify the reason, but there are several - reports, statics, the dreaded Wednesday meeting, the list goes on and on. On some levels my work is highly rewarding, my skills are tested, tried…poked at with sharp sticks, but I manage to squeeze out some measure of job satisfaction - which, in turn, is balanced with the yang, the dark side.

(Picture me shrugging here.) Such as it is.

This is no memo that I will be unavailable or not posting - I like to keep some measure of consistancy going, but it is a note to you that I am busy, and when I do post, that you understand it is at the end of a long day; after I’ve slugged through yet another pile of mire and ash to find a single golden kernal of hope, pride and, yes, happiness.

Do you like your job? Do you wake up with more reasons to go in than you do to stay home? Are you rewarded with the simplest of pleasures - accomplishment?

Carpe Diem, or as I say, Grab life by the balls.

I am addicted to iTunes. The music quality is exceptional, my iPod is never bored and I always have ear candy available to sample. I was glancing over my most recent purchases to create a new playlist for, in this case, relaxation, and thought my rather ecclectic tastes would amuse someone.

1. Mason Williams - Classical Gas (Music - 1968-1971)
Just the guitar version, not the 70’s fab, disco version
[http://randomtruth.net/blog/Music/CGas.mp3]
2. Pink & Indigo Girls - Dear Mr. President (I’m not dead)
Political music is a vice of mine.
[http://randomtruth.net/blog/Music/Pres.mp3]
3. Nymphetamine Fix - Cradle of Filth (Nymphetamine)
Death Metal isn’t generally my liking, but her voice…reminds me of Amy Lee
[http://randomtruth.net/blog/Music/Nym.mp3]
4. Best in Trance - Ameno (Intrance Mix)
The original is good, but this has something extra that makes me want to fuck.
[http://randomtruth.net/blog/Music/Ameno.mp3]
5. Llamé Pa’ Verte - Wisin & Yandel (Pa’l Mundo)
Reggaeton, yet another vice, albeit a small one.
[http://randomtruth.net/blog/Music/Llame.mp3]

And oh, how my bandwidth will hate me, not to mention the whole artist rights issue, but I am going to offer you a reprieve from iTunes prices and allow you to listen, however temporarily, here. My last post with an Mp3 has quite a popularity even considering its less than general population appeal.

Enjoy.