Ugly as Sin

If you're a regular reader of my blogs, you can now see the kind of life I would have had in 2008 and 2009 if I had kept all my work online: constant thefts of my posts accompanied by false accusations of fraud, violators of my copyright invited by local broadcasters to come here and commit fraud on my doorstep, standing in soup lines, going homeless, etc, etc, etc. I already spent a lot of years facing these hardships before I managed to secure a comfortable home in an apartment building and I would have done almost anything to avoid having to go back to such a cringing life, which was largely why I dropped my online posts in 2007, whose criminal abuse turned them into a source of pure misery for me, and started looking for an ordinary job, until I ended up blindly applying for part-time work at Nasco Staffing, the 'employer' that played a direct role in the crimes committed against me by broadcasters. But now I've had to sink to such a miserable level of survival that I have nothing to lose by staying online and bashing crooked broadcasters for the rest of my life. If no one wants to do anything about them now, maybe one of our children will be wise enough to put them out of business in the future. I detect a certain amount of class discrimination in how I have been treated by local CBC staff who believe that every last person in a soup line is a total failure with no prospects of advancement. I might have been able to advance by at least a million dollars if networks like NBC paid authors for comedy scripts like Flames of Compassion, which came to me from standing in a soup line and jonesing for a cigarette, instead of paying their comfy cozy frauds a thousand dollars a script to steal them from half starved authors like myself. How much of a sanctimonious hypocrite does an applicant need to be to qualify for a job in broadcasting these days? Let's talk about beauty. To me, the greatest beauty is abstract. Physical beauty is inferior: the young grow old, cars rust, even babies need their diapers changed, while conceptual beauty may be flawless and permanent. My beauty - if I have any - exists in my poetry and my music and in the charm of my scripts, statements, and stories. And who got loved for all that beauty? So much of it! Thousands of posts! Who got praised and loved for my beauty, CBC? Wasn't it all the stars I've named in my profile? And wasn't it yourselves for supporting their crimes? And what did people think of me when they thought that jerks who stole my work possessed my beauty? Gee, I guess they thought I was a disgusting creep. Is that acceptable to you broadcasters? It must be if you still want these assholes on a stage now. I give out so much of my beauty, and crooked broadcasters make sure that I receive nothing but nauseating ugliness in return. My room is a disgrace compared to the kind of plush accommodations that were bestowed upon the ugly, hateful frauds who 'took my place.' And how many of them are there? Imagine if I could have enjoyed all that love myself, being the sole author of my work. You could multiply my happiness by their number and figure that I would have had a much better time than the one I've been reporting every day here for the last five years. While I didn't share my work necessarily to have a good time, I wouldn't have refused to be loved. Those frauds who broadcasters like to help so much are far more selfish. They want everything for nothing. They belong in a cage, not on a stage. Apparently, it's more important to broadcasters to subtract as much happiness from my life as they can before I die of old age. This seems to be their priority and they have been obsessed with me from the outset. They can't tell me otherwise, after they turned fraud committed with my songs and blogs into a worldwide trend for several years. And why wouldn't they be paying close attention to me now, when their futures may depend on the information I share with the public about their crimes? I think I'd sooner have the undying attention of a King Cobra.
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