Jesus Hates Empty Praise

Well, as long as Pentagon fans are hailing Spartan virtues, let's mention what doomed Sparta to ultimate failure: lack of imagination. The Spartan military cared little for creativity. Once they developed a tradition of warfare, they stuck to it, which made their tactics predictable to their enemies. Less than a century after their glorious victory over Athens, their own empire lay in ruins. If I could summarize into one complaint my current protest over what happened to my songs, poems and scripts, it would be aimed at the lack of imagination demonstrated by so many popular stars and their media auxiliaries. Here's a bunch of people expected to be creative and who apparently spent all their time either watching themselves on TV or stealing from me on the internet. The only imagination they had was used to try to elevate their egos above my talent on the strength of my own work. And since the industry supports them so much that it won't lift a finger to help me now, we can say that this horrific poverty of imagination receives strong support from the establishment. As I said before, the industry doesn't want you to think. They want you to act just as you did when they stole everything I shared and handed it over to their soul selling accomplices to be used as fraud and wildly support their decision. They don't want you to think about how wrong it was. They just want you to party like empty headed fools and be grateful for their crimes. They don't give a damn about creativity or imagination or the health of public virtue. All they care about is their own disgusting power. Their power is limited. It can only destroy. Let's take a peek at this destruction now. How much did NBC pay Saturday Night Live to stick their ugly faces all over my poems? How many poems did they steal? A hundred? Two hundred? What's a couple hundred pieces of one artist's life worth in this cheap, materialistic society? Apparently not much, especially when you add a hundred songs and over a thousand scripts to it and leave the author to type blogs in a fucking library afterwards for the rest of his shitty life. Should I be more specific? Should I make mention of specific titles? How could I do it without doubling the hundreds of thousands of words I've already shared with a bunch of 'readers' who might as well live on another planet? This life stinks. And I'm really getting fed up with it. If everyone is satisfied to help a bunch of stupid, greedy pricks rip off and destroy all my work, how the fuck am I ever going to want to get up and sing for them? Maybe they deserve to go to Hell with their Jesus. They don't believe in God anyway or the world wouldn't be such an evil place.
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