A conversation between two friends
Addison: Would you rather have bread or free speech?
Justin: Well, I guess bread.
Addison: Bah! I would rather starve than not be able to speak my mind freely!
Justin: (After thinking) Well... I guess you could eat your words.


I saw something as I was driving through downtown this morning that made me think. Athens certainly has it's share of interesting people... well, one of those interesting people, an older man, was standing on the corner of Broad and College holding a sign that read,
"I Love My Country. I'm Ashamed Of My Government."
This man was fairly raggedly dressed; he may not have showered in a couple of days; he looked a bit thin a little feeble, but he was out there holding that sign like he meant it.

And out of nowhere two police officers came up to him and began to question him and harrass him. Now, I was in my car so I don't know the full story. He could've done something seriously wrong, or they may have been trying to help him... but it certainly looked for all the world like they were chewing him out for picketing. It was something out of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. The well dressed, well fed, bigger government goons abusing this poor old man for the untolerable sin of speaking ill of his government.
It was sad.

I think people have forgotten what freedom of speech really means. If you ask most people now... certainly if you asked most people just after 9/11, they would tell you that they liked the idea of freedom of speech, sure, but that they didn't mind the government taking it away in exchange for protection.
BULL SHIT

We as Americans have never known a lack of freedom of speech. It's easy to wax political and say that there are more important things than free speech when nothing you say is censored or contraversial. But try saying something that Big Brother doesn't like and then see how much fun censorship is.
America... America was founded by men who knew what it was like to not be free to speak, to write, to worship or to assemble in the way that they wanted. And they were unanimus in their idea that it would be better to die than to have to suffer like that at the hands of their own government. But we've all forgotten that. We've never had to endure that sort of thing, so we don't mind when the government takes that inalienable right away from us. We tell each other that it's worth it so that they government will protect us.
This is wrong. This is unAmerican. This is stupidity at its height.

There is not much that I believe is worth fighting for, but I think this is one.
I would rather be attacked 100 more times by terrorists than have Americans' freedoms taken from us.

I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
-Voltaire

Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember,
I'll always remember the sound of the stereo,
the dim of the soft lights,
the scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers
and the time on the clock when we realized it's so late
and this walk that we shared together.
The streets were wet
and the gate was locked so I jumped it,
and I let you in.And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist
and you kissed me like you meant it.
And I knew that you meant it,
that you meant it,
that you meant it.
-Dashboard Confessional


Not exactly the things I remember about today... but this is still the best day that I remember. The best day since the last time I saw her. There's something in the way she moves; in the way she talks; in the way we are that affects me like nothing ever has. And she left a few hours ago and ever since then I've just wanted her to come back... because that's when I'll feel happiest again.
I've never felt so powerless... like I was so completely at someone's mercy. I've never wanted this much to make someone happy. I've never had conversations before where all we did was look at each other's eyes and I knew.... knew more surely than if she had told me a thousand times that she feels the same way that I do.

I want to write a poem or a song... paint a picture.... something artistic. There's something about prose that doesn't even begin to capture this in the slightest.

My words feel dull and inept after the omnipresent sparkle in her eye....