Uncle Sam Is An Alcoholic


The double-edged sword, the catch-22

The dream had and lost, the red white and blue

Your freedoms not free, your fallen not few

a lifetime of trials and allegiance to you


My brother was back for the fourth of July. He got stickered with American flags, grabbed the hat I got from the dollar store and mixed those things with enough beer to put on quite a show as everyone walked past our house to get to the fireworks site.

When he’s funny, he’s hilarious but everything is so uncertain – so unscripted and over the edge that when you’re in his company you’re constantly worried that something bad is about to happen. I dunno how to explain it any other way… it’s the madness and the laughter and the violence that all comes together and scares you while being really, really entertaining.

We grilled stuffed jalapenos, set off fireworks in the driveway and spent most of the next day sleeping in. Then we started drinking again in a breastaurant next to a theater that served drinks (where we saw ‘This Is the End’) and walked over on the other side to a different bar for dinner drinks. Etc. More crashing and being tired.

At work the constant, incessant theme is always “safe and secure, safe and secure. Careful on that ladder. Lift with your legs. Blah blah blah.” This holiday as I was lighting one of the mystery fuses with the boys’ lighter, I thought to myself, “This isn’t very safe & secure”…

But I kept that to myself.


Dear Diary and Everyone Else

My brother is home again, taking some time to rest and adjust. I assume it will be a few days until he is back out on the streets making a damn fool of himself and getting arrested for ridiculously stupid reasons (reference: charging a cop car on foot, exiting a bar and exclaiming “Well, I’m gonna go blow up the cinema”, pleading at crazy love interest to not break into random vehicle before being tackled as an accomplice in possession of marijuana, riding a bicycle past homes at 4 AM while singing loudly, etc etc etc). Oh, you know, all of the crazy shit that happens when you refuse to take your medications and hang around users in the sad reality that your sister can barely wrap her head around before feeling tired and hopeless. Welcome home, Christopher.


current Tama model with attachment

The Tamagotchi* I was carrying around, died. Correction: it left, which is equivalent to dying as the envelope flying through the air with a teary face means that all of the time you invested and any achievement you unlocked has all gone away. Suddenly what was a minor eccentricity seems a blaringly humiliating quirk, having been willing to cart a plastic egg around to the most professional of places for what you always knew meant nothing but suddenly was the big, black void in your life.

“I’ll be your friend, I mean, since you need one,” the head boss commented as he noted the toy on my desk. From back when I at least had that.

Make no small thing of the Tamagotchi departing, for it is small in size but heavy in weight – seriously though, it can feel pretty awful to lose the only save you made in a long game. Since then I have started over with an emphasis on the importance of not going to bed while the Tamagotchi is at its part-time job; it will work itself into a state of hunger and unhappiness while I’m out like a rock. Okay, so maybe I was a bit of a slave driver. But we needed those points to redeem for amazing pixelated presents and I’m not about to sit down and actually earn them with the damn thing – I’m busy.

This week I’m giving a presentation at the district training for asset protection. It’s going to be pretty sweet because I will be toting along my A-Game, which admittedly is much harder on a daily basis than when I have advanced notice of needing to show up and inspire the company I work for. Much like Britney Spears, between performances I can get pretty scary looking (acting/sounding/alarming to others…) and it is best to just focus on The Autumn Machine than the girl with the online journal and virtual pet and all of that nonsense.

Ap’s Log, fiscal date 6/24/13. The crew has started to display an uncommon behavioral trait of heightened awareness surrounding my CCTV surveillance. It seems that an unknown element has recently made my capabilities known to them, more so than before, and while their means to wonder is only natural… the underlying reasons for their incessant whistle-blowing is proving to be counter-productive to what a “crew” should be.

“Hey, go to the cash office. Who is that? Who is in there with them? How long have they been in there?”

“Can you keep an eye on Whatshisface and let me know when he comes off from his break?”

AP’s Log, Supplemental. An unknown virus has continued to cause attempts at invasive, abusive power of the Eye In the Sky. I have refused all requests while hoping to discover a cure. Even GoodyGoodguy, who normally does jumping jacks for our mission because they make him giggle, has started to show symptoms.

“Hey, zoom in on MyCo-worker.”

“Why, GoodyGoodguy?”

“I just…I don’t know. I have some questions there.”

Disorienting, distracting, whatever this is has the potential to knock us completely out of alignment. I’ve taken it upon myself to address this with the council and hopefully my message will alleviate some of the madness in time. Also, I have been researching park visits on the Tamagotchi during certain hours and it seems that if you talk to the dog-looking ones three times you can adopt it as a pet, essentially, a pet for your virtual pet.

Perhaps I amuse myself with simple games to avoid playing the foolish ones.

*Link Provided above is Youtube: Many Tamagotchis Were Harmed In the Making… a video about hacking the Tamagotchi