Flags of Our Daughters

I have a couple of new ideas for scripts but it's too hard to find a seat in the public library on Sunday. I'll just say hi to my dear supporters instead. Hi, ladies! I heard about your most recent success with your flagging efforts. Some jerk was bragging about his 'hit' which turned out to be my song! Good for you. These dummies don't even realize that the industry won't touch them anymore. It's already lost too much money from the fraud of the last eight years. Do keep up your good effort. I promise you that I will defer any future hero worship over this affair straight in your direction. You're my heroes. I also heard about that person who boasted of making a movie every week. Last week must have slowed down production because I didn't post any new scripts. This fool must think that Stanley Kubrick wrote 2001: A Space Odyssey, as well. I think it's a menace to teach such uncreative people film making skills. Nice work, foiling that nasty caper. To the vulgar, lying creep: who was Dateline's [pardon me, girls] 'penis' again? Too bad we can't yank your tongue out and mash your offensive fingers into a pulp. Seems to be the only cure for criminals like you. And was that the 'mob squad' I heard passing my block last night? If you scream like that at my shows, you're liable to drown me out. I hope I didn't make you feel guilty about screaming for that band. I don't hold it against you. You're just fellow victims of these creeps. Time to go and eat my humble pie. I'm sure pleased with how I've been able to control my spending these days. I never knew that sobriety and good sense could be so intoxicating. Let's hope it lasts.
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Here for You

In one of those courses where they send chronic welfare applicants to learn how to get jobs, the teacher told us to close our letters of application with the words 'here for you'. But given the reluctance of the world to credit me or pay me for my work in the last sixteen years, the only thing I'm ultimately applying for in this account is the salvation of your hearts. I find myself grief stricken these last couple of days over a very sad letter from home. Someone who might be the most perfect person I've ever known has been diagnosed with a terminal affliction. Not to interrupt the dance party, but if you're in a melancholy mood and find yourself listening to my Laura-li, I would appreciate it if the faithful among you would send a little prayer in the direction of this person and her loved ones. My mother took a somewhat admonishing tone in her note. While tragedies like this may tend to reduce our struggles to trivialities, she has taken an extra step and implied that my online campaign is selfish. I see the influence of television and siblings like Roger in this attitude and I indulge her her opinion because she may be too old to handle the truth about my life. She needs to go on thinking of her baby as a little sweetheart and I don't want to take that away from her. So at least I'm not selfish about that. And what am I doing when I construct a poem? Is it the same as writing a grocery list? No, I'm pouring out my heart in my words. Authoring all this work all these years has been entirely selfless. That's why it was so easy for you to believe that the guy who stole the largest number of my songs was Jesus. And what am I fighting for in this account? Riches and glory? If I wanted that, I would have stayed online in 2007 instead of erasing all my work. I am fighting for truth. Truth is the path to God - unless you are atheist, of course. When you thought Dean was Jesus, what God were you really worshiping? Don't you think it hurt God to see what your broadcasters did with the talent He gave me? The worst thing about hearing that someone you love is dying for me has been my inability to make their lives better while they were here. Mike Myers got a chance to improve his father's life before his father passed away. Now people I love are dying and I all I get to think about is how much of a burden I have been to them because people like Mike Myers cashed in all my work for themselves and left me in the lurch. The best thing about having money, as far as I'm concerned, would have been to give it to people I love and to people who need it and who deserve it. You loved those stars when they were entertaining you with my works. Now this crime has made you hold your love in check. When you can't love freely, it diminishes your life experience. I won't consider my work finished until you are all restored to full spiritual health. I don't know you, but I hope I'm helping you take your minds off your troubles today. I know your hearts and I know you are good. I will continue this struggle, standing in soup lines and making the sacrifices, as long as it serves you. May my music sweep you away into a better universe. May my poems and scripts help you face the absurdity of this life with a smile. And may my statements bring you truth; a truth that leads the atheist to fulfillment and the believer to God. God bless you crazy people.
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Forms of Abuse

More roundups? Did I hear that right? Was there yet more broadcast fraud made out of my work in the last week or so? I was wondering why all two of the classic rock station's fans came out to wave their corporate Andy Warhol Rolling Stones T-shirt logos in my face these past few days. More crime made out of my internet posts followed by more of the same punishment for the offenders? Well, if no one came forward to admit the countless other crimes I've been inquiring about here, they're not going to start doing it now. If we're going to be a socialist country, we must be more careful about who we allow into the public service. I got a note from Human Resources Canada today telling me that I owe them $1,600.00 from an employment insurance overpayment in 2007. Allow me to share the details with you, now that I recall that year clearly. The crimes that these bad broadcasters have been committing with my work since 2004 were starting to take their toll on my mental health by 2007. These crimes of fraud can largely be traced to the theft of my plays from 1999 to 2001, a crime which must have had support from rogue elements in the CBC and our public service. Since I applied for no retraining program but was suddenly ushered into it in 2000, someone in the public service must have known about my authoring talent at that time. The success that was made from stealing my plays encouraged more and more fraud, so that by 2006, Mike Myers felt quite confident about stealing my Austin Powers character when it was still online. The theft of these works steadily wore away at my sanity until I ended up quitting my job for mental health reasons - though the dust was also a factor in this decision. However, as one whose mind had been so damaged by these crimes against him, I did not know well enough to stay unemployed while I collected employment insurance benefits. While CBC staff and their allies at Human Resources were apparently celebrating the financial success of plays that were stolen from me and credited to their friends, I went right out and grabbed another low paying job to try to stay caught up with my rent. I'm hopelessly honest and I think I already said that I approached Human Resources within a week or so to tell them that I had found work and that their staff member cheerfully sent me home with the words: lots of people on sick benefits have jobs! Otherwise, I might have been able to pay this debt off immediately. Instead I ended up working at this place for about three weeks until I had to quit for reasons of physical health. The actual reason for my leaving this job did not fit onto a form. Maybe some of the female students who worked there for the summer of 2007 recall me. It was a business that set up outdoor events. We cleaned and folded and stored large tents. Each worker was assigned a table. The students preferred to work at my table. Apparently they found my company entertaining. This irked the supervisor, who invited his girlfriend to the site to protect his ego. Then when his girlfriend wanted to work at my table, he bluntly challenged me to a fight. I didn't think a ten-dollar-an-hour job was worth fighting for so I quit. On top of this, I went ahead and paid most of the initial amount I owed Human Resources by 2008. I had the debt whittled down to less than three hundred dollars. Then I forgot about it as they charged compounding monthly interest on it all these years to bring it up to a figure even higher than the original amount owed. This is some kind of legalized extortion. And do you know who could easily afford to pay this debt? My Canadian lawyer. All he'd have to do is take it out of that payout check that was issued in my name for Tina Fey's incarceration. But he was conveniently out of the office when I sent him a note by email with my savings account number, instructing him to send me my payment by direct deposit. My reason for leaving my last job didn't fit onto a form and they wanted me to pay back the employment insurance benefits I was overpaid, so I decided I needed to fill out the form for the retroactive disability tax credit. I approached Revenue Canada some time ago to recover this form, which I did not initially want to use. The clerk told me: I don't have that form. Maybe he's a friend or fan of that CBC comedian who stole my blogs. Or maybe he's related to David Frum. This government is something else up here. If they're not ganging up on me behind my back to help their friends commit fraud with my web posts, they're refusing me basic information and services. I'm starting to feel ashamed that I ever worked for the government of Canada and I can certainly understand why the common citizen feels such strong resentment towards it. These people are supposed to be public servants and they seem to be on an arrogant power trip. And look at the ugly fraud they supported through the CBC. What horrible people. And what incompetent administrators. My work could be making a fortune right now, creating jobs and spreading wealth and prosperity throughout the land. Instead, for purely egotistical reasons, they're driving me across the border to realize my dream in the United States. I think it's too late to say my work isn't commercial after it filled up half the comedy content on network television and the majority of content on a chain of commercial rock stations for several years, right up to the day I reclaimed it. It would still be all over the TV and radio now, poisoning your minds against truth and love, if these nasty rogue elements in the Canadian government had their way.
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The Present Situation

I received a note from the bank this morning which is probably a coincidence. Someone who works at my bank, whose first name is Betsy, sent me an application for a life insurance policy. While I'm sure she did not mean this in any threatening way, the experience sparked some thoughts worth mentioning here. My fiction is fiction. My characters are not real people. My stories are not real experiences. With Betsy Beech, I merely wanted to expand her character within the framework of a script by giving her a job at a bank. The customer she abused was not me. In fact, I got the idea from someone else telling me his experience at a bank. And my scripts would not be humorous unless I exaggerated them. I guess that my insecure enemies, professional comedians who fail to make people laugh from the heart, now would poison my readers' minds by casting an analytical, critical eye on my scripts. But eerily, no one analyzed Saturday Night Live when they performed a sketch that bashed their network president and no one analyzed Jay Leno or Ellen Degeneres when they 'performed' poems that bashed themselves. That must have made it much easier for viewers to enjoy my work on TV than it has been for them to enjoy it here in my Blogger account. It's a good thing I'm a musician and I don't have to concern myself with this too much - beyond going to court and seeing that I am compensated for the extensive damage to my image and my reputation as an author by so many dishonest stars. My poetry is quite sacred to me because it will survive the ages more than anything else I do. Look at Homer from 2,500 years ago. He is greater than all our Hollywood stars put together. Can anyone tell me who won the Academy Award for best actor in 1923 off the top of your head? No. And that was less than a century ago. Stars of the present fade with time but great poets are immortal. The more I learn about stars, the less I like Andy Warhol. He was too commercial and too trapped in a present which has turned into the past. I expect his work to lose value over time against the work of his contemporaries like Klaus Oldenburg, Roy Leichenstein and Robert Indiana. A humorous example of how an artist can fade with time can be found in a stained glass window illustration at the local Carnegie Center. At the time of the construction of this building in 1905, a poet named Spenser was thought fit to stand shoulder to shoulder with Shakespeare and Milton - or was it Chaucer? Now I doubt anyone but a literature major would know who Spenser was, while almost everyone has heard of Shakespeare and Milton. I see the theft of my poetry as an attack on my immortality. I see it as a deeply spiritual offense. But the fools who stole it and committed fraud with it don't need to worry about their immortality now. They will ever be remembered as spoiled celebrities and as hideous frauds. On another note, my figure of averaging eight hours a day in my posts takes into account the dozens of hours I pour into the composing and recording of individual songs over short periods. For instance, I composed and recorded my most recent song, Denial, in forty hours over two days. That's a whole week's work in two days, which raises my average daily output considerably. I wonder when this evil entertainment business is going to finally prove to me that it rewards hard work like this instead of punishing it. 3:25 pm - With respect to the 'missing page' in my Evolver blog entitled An Important Lesson, don't worry about it. I think I either changed the title to that or turned it into another post. But out of curiosity, I will check it against my offline record to make sure no one is interfering with me. You can't blame me for being a little paranoid about it. 6:42 pm. Ah, yes. That was the one I decided to erase in favor of Bang On Accurate, which is much more positive. I have a certain standard for my posts which I can not always rise to. It's a shame that when an artist voluntarily erases his own work to comply with his standard of quality, a bunch of jackasses are allowed to pounce on him and make up stories about it. We should execute these goofs. They hurt everyone, not just me.
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An Ongoing Crime

Here's a good habit for readers of my blogs. Everyone out there, when you're done reading a post from this account, take a little extra time to run it through a Google search and catch the ongoing fraud that is being committed with it on the internet. This request especially includes my songs. If you can't flag the fraud, take down the URL and pass it on to the police. I'd really appreciate it.
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Betsy Beech: Time Is Money

Tonight on Betsy Beech, Betsy helps a bank customer with a difficult transaction. (Betsy's workplace, a bank. On duty as a teller, she invites the next customer in line to her booth.) Beech: How can I help you? Customer: (tensely) I need to make a withdrawal. Beech: Are you sure about that? Customer: Yes. Beech: What kind of an account do you hold? Customer: Savings. Beech: Why did you put your money in a savings account if you can't keep it there? Customer: I changed my mind. Beech: How unstable of you. How much do you need? Customer: (muttering) Four dollars. Beech: I'm sorry, could you say that louder? Customer: (louder) Four dollars! Beech: (attracting attention) Four dollars? Four dollars? You needed to come all the way to the bank just to take out four dollars? Let me see how much you have in there. Oh, look at that! You still have twenty-three cents left over! And I thought you were a bum! Customer: Please, just let me have my money. Beech: Sure, sure. Do you want that in dollar bills or in quarters? Customer: Bills please. Beech: (Sniffing in disgust) Are you sure? Bills don't work in the coin laundry. Customer: Look, just forget it. I have my pride, you know. (To himself on the way out) What a bitch! (Enter manager.) Manager: Nice work, Beech. Maybe it's time we promoted you to the loans department. Time is money on the fabulous new hit show, Betsy Beech, tonight.
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Look Again

If you're a fan of mine at this time, don't panic over whether my work is 'hot' or 'unhot'. The true test of that will be when I get out to play in front of crowds. I like my songs, especially my newer ones, and I think they have what it takes to please a crowd. As for my scripts, you should be suspicious of people who bash them. These scripts are good, which is why shows like Saturday Night Live and Family Guy and the Daily Show depended on them so much. And the scripts stolen by such shows were quite often my first drafts, which still had room for improvement. You can see the added quality in my new post of Metaphysical Fitness, for instance. Or in scripts like Bullscent, you can see how I developed the story from its rudimentary form of a husband coming home from work and complaining to his wife. Not only am I capable of improving my work from the haphazard presentation offered by these premature ejaculators on TV, but I can create new work. They must have been hoping that I they would be able to steal my work in front of you and tell you I stole it from them indefinitely. It's really a flimsy plan, which makes me truly wonder about what kind of drugs they consume. I think a significant section of the public must have a great appetite for my work for a band like the Crystalids to need to steal over seventy of my songs in such a short time and for shows like Saturday Night Live and performers like George Carlin to have to commit so many hundreds of counts of fraud with my scripts and poems. I'm going to take a look back on some earlier posts now and see what I can do to improve them. I may decide to soften up my language or notice an area that I can develop further, as I did with the 'explosives' portion of my recently posted Ancient Wisdom: Technology post. If I have time, I'll see if I can add another new script this evening. Please keep up the effort on flagging posts that steal my work. Even if only one hundredth of a percent of you out there do this at any given time, you will still vastly outnumbers those crooks in your effort.
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