Nothing to Lose

This blog is called Nothing to Lose. After twenty odd years of struggling to make a good name for myself as an artist and finding myself chained to a computer by continuous false accusations after volumes of my work were broadcast as fraud to make my enemies rich and to make whole populations hate my guts, I no longer have anything to lose by pointing the finger of blame for my misery at the very top. I'm quite sure they are saying they had no knowledge of this crime. While that may be possible, I am skeptical about it. Look at how every broadcasting corporation on the planet was aligned against me. Thousands of people. Thousands of people don't all suddenly agree to gang up on one solitary artist. But a gathering of the top people of those corporations would make such a conspiracy possible. And the media are essentially workers. Workers obey the chain of command. They won't risk getting their superiors into trouble by gambling on fraud without the express consent of their superiors. There's a reason why we call high positions in our society positions of responsibility: if you are at the top you are supposed to know what is going on underneath you. If they really did just let their workers run wild against me, that's almost as culpable as ordering them to destroy me. I never knew who David Frum was until I saw him shown on the news in 2004 above the caption: David Frum, Presidential Speechwriter. But I knew who George W. Bush was. And I protested against that war he was so determined to prosecute. I think my protest stood out on the internet from 2002 to 2004 and drew Bush's attention. After all, didn't my songs and blogs stand out in 2006 and 2007? And I think he desperately wanted to crush me in 2004 because I opposed him and his war and he was up for re-election. In my most suspicious moments, I think I may have even been specifically named as a sacrificial lamb in one of those creepy black masses of theirs. And don't let them get away with appearing generous for letting me live. This is no life at all. Zoo animals have more of a life than I do. They have more to eat, too. This is not living, this is mere existence. They're not doing me any favors by granting it to me. They would have been more merciful to kill me seven years ago.
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