"Bitch" an editorial by H.A. Larson

This is a first in a series of feminist editorials that I am writing called:  “Breaking the Stereotype:  How Women and Men define their own, and each other’s, Gender Roles in Society.”  My goal is to shatter preconceived notions of what gender roles are, how language is used as a barrier to equality, and how people perpetuate negative stereotypes, whether they are male or female.  What does it mean to be a feminist?  How do gender roles play out in culture and society at large?  Do women really have equal choices and options?  How do we achieve equal rights for everyone regardless of race, gender, or sexual preference?  These are just a few of the topics I will cover in this series, and I hope that it will enlighten those who read it.  Be forewarned that there will be language and subject matter from time to time that will be offensive to some.  I cannot be responsible for that; I just intend to be upfront and informational.  Take it as you will.

Bitch

“What’s up bitches?”  “Look at those bitches!”  “If people think I’m a bitch now, just wait until they see this!”  “Yeah, I’m a bitch.  So fucking what?”  Do any of these phrases, or ones similar in nature, sound familiar?  They should.  In this day of instant access to countless people via mass media and the internet, these sentences comprise common language.  I see and hear these words more times a day than I can count, more often than not, and all of them have something in common; the term bitch.  

There are songs, bands, so-called feminist websites, and various other things that are devoted to the word.  I’ve seen it used as a noun (She’s a bitch), a verb (No need to bitch about it), and an adjective (I stubbed my toe on that bitch dresser).  I’ve seen and heard plenty of quotes that use, in some form, the word bitch.  “Shit’s only as real as the bitches who told you,” et al.

The online Merriam-Webster dictionary defines bitch as:

“1: the female of the dog or some other carnivorous mammals
2   a: a lewd or immoral woman
     b: a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term      of abuse
3: something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant
4: complaint”

Other dictionaries define bitch in pretty much the same manner, so as we can see, bitch is used a derogatory term.  I don’t imagine, or pretend, that that fact is new to anyone, including myself.  I have used the term myself to refer to a boss, a girl I knew, or any other woman who was generally being unpleasant.  I would say that many people have used it in exactly the same way.  That’s not the problem as far as I’m concerned.  The problem I do have with using the word bitch is when it’s used as a positive term, or a self-definition.  A word that I use strictly as an insult is not one that I would use to describe myself or my friends.

I know there’s a new type of feminism (although I beg to differ on using feminism as a label for this type of mind-set but I will save that topic for another editorial) that seeks to ‘take back’ words and terms that are pejorative or derogatory.  Bitch is one of those words, as is cunt, whore, and a score of others.  I hate this type of thinking.  If I ‘took back’ the “N” word…do you think it would be appropriate?  I can’t even type that word let alone take it back without being considered racist, yet I can use the “B” word to define myself?  I cringe at the self-loathing that this word, and other words of this nature, connote and refuse to accept this as neither normal nor acceptable.  

Bitch is a negative word that has no place in feminist vernacular.  No one should be proud to be a bitch.  You are not a bitch because you have opinions, you just have straightforward opinions.  You are not a bitch because you demand equality; you see humanity on a level playing field.  You are not a bitch because you have PMS; your hormones are fucking with your brain chemistry.  You’re not a bitch because you’re a man who dates a strong woman.  You’re not a bitch because you’re a man who’s not into sports.  Stop referring to yourself as bitches or letting people refer to you as bitches; you’re just normal people with normal lives and normal thoughts.  If you’re a man who refers to women as bitches, as a general term, you’re being misogynistic; and if you’re a man who refers to other men as bitches, shut up.  You just sound like childish morons.  Bitch is not a word that needs to be “reclaimed”.  

If one is really, truly interested in gender equality than why don’t they stand up to gender injustice?  Why don’t they advocate the equality of humans and fight for everyone’s rights to be treated thusly?  Why don’t they rally a battle cry against discriminations of sexual preference, gender, or race?  These are the things that really need to be reclaimed, not words like bitch.

To truly be treated as an equal, one must first act like an equal.  I’m not a bitch, are you?

-H.A. Larson, 10/2012

Technology, Gaming, and the Future By Overwatch404

Technology, Gaming, and the Future

By Overwatch404

   When I was growing up, games were a novelty, and there was a relatively small selection. Chess or Checkers? Trouble or Yahtzee? Rummy or Poker? Technology has changed this situation. Where before, the specialty board-game niche was confined to hidden shops and foreign countries, the web and international shipping has made an impossibly large library available. This development has been dwarfed though by the growth of digital gaming, starting with the infamous “Pong” and morphing into the explosion of Web gaming, with apps of all types on demand. But the games don’t even end there.

   Games are creeping into every facet of our lives. Fantasy sports are games built on games. Foursqaure isn’t simply a game, it’s a game built on your physical location. That games are changing how we spend some of our time (worker productivity drops due to fantasy football season is now regularly documented and deplored by the bean counters) is not questioned on a superficial level. But are they capable of actually changing every facet of our behavior? If so, is this a good or a bad thing?

   Some readers might object to the idea that games could change us so dynamically and dramatically, and possibly dismiss the question out of hand. But I challenge you to seriously think about this. For the adamant player of Foursquare, how does it change his or her travel patterns? Where they spend their time? Why would someone care that they spent more time at the bookstore or the mall than someone else? But this might seem harmless enough, and most players probably do not seriously alter their normal routine for this. But what if game were designed to alter our routines?

   People are generally accomplishment and recognition driven. Recognition and accomplishments can take many forms. For years, games have offered a variety of accomplishments to players for completing various tasks, bonus tasks, etc. Game consoles now often keep track not only of game specific accomplishments, but your combined totals. Shooter games track kills, deaths, accuracy, and a multitude of other stats that people use to rank themselves against each other. What if games began to be designed to turn things about our daily lives into accomplishment and recognition “carrot” approach to behavior alteration? Instead of merely liking Starbucks FaceBook page, every time you visited a Starbucks and posted about the visit on your Facebook page, you got a “Starbucks Point”. What if these points fed a rankings system that was posted publicly? What if leaders received rewards and other recognition? What if governments and businesses began to create and integrate similar games that covered every facet of life? Would you even realize your life was slowly being altered in the “chase for points” and the status and rewards that came along with “high scores”?

   Just as concerning as the potential life altering capabilities of games designed to do so, is the extreme level of tracking and filing that would be required to much such an all-encompassing and pervasive system to work well. After all, what’s the point of a game that can’t accurately reflect scoring? Privacy concerns are turned on their collective heads. Instead of fighting against intrusions, people might be demanding more thorough surveillance and tracking so that not a single point-worthy action, thought, or expression is missed. After all, they are trying to “win”!

   If you haven’t guess by now, I think that this possibility of the life alterations and surveillance required by and for such games is disturbing. Placing people into an invisible boxes and pulling their subconscious levers for desired outcomes is no different than the way mice are treated in research laboratories across the globe. An opposing view though is that this would be a softer way to guide society into behaving “better”, carrot versus the stick. My contention with this point is that “better” is quite subjective.  This view automatically assumes the superiority and benevolence of the game designers, an assumption which I cannot share.

   Obviously the other divergence, although not as wide, is privacy concerns. Many people, even the more technologically and socially receptive, claim to be concerned about privacy and information security. But how many of these make these claims while posting every tidbit of their day on social media outlets?  Devil’s advocates are quick to point out that if people volunteer their information, it’s not actually a violation of privacy. But when does the slippery slope take effect, where if the majority is openly volunteering everything, the minority that chooses not to is soon forced to “join society”? “Smart appliances” are already becoming more pervasive. I am not concerned about the possibility that my fridge, stove, and coffee maker may communicate and help me manage my food more effectively, or  that I might be able live more efficiently with constant feedback from the things around me. These are the obvious benefits, the “carrot”. But who can gain access to this information? How could it be used? Even with the most stringent guarantees of privacy controls and encryption, you are never truly safe from a “data invasion”. The skyrocketing rates of identity theft, credit card number theft, etc. should be proof enough of this. What about when thieves can’t just steal your social security number or credit card digits, but could actually steal the chronicles of your entire life? Will living outside of the “panopticon” become a new black market? Stolen minutes in surveillance free rooms, with the fear that policy enforcers could bust it up at any moment like a Prohibition era speak-easy?

   These questions concern me and I believe they should be of concern to everyone. An old adage is “do not look a gift horse in the mouth”, but the rapid advancement of technology past any possible ethical conversation about its use should be on the minds of everyone involved and affected. How do you want your future to look? Are you concerned about “Living in the Pupil of 1,000 Eyes” (Death – 1,000 Eyes), or will any of us even notice as we chase the carrots of points and digital status?

  

 Editor's note:  This editorial ties in well with Schell Games CEO and Creative Director Jesse Schell's lecture "Visions of the Gamepocalypse".  (View the full lecture here:  http://fora.tv/2010/07/27/Jesse_Schell_Visions_of_the_Gamepocalypse)  As a game producer, Mr. Schell of course sees a future in which the entirety of human life is tracked for the sake of gaming as a bright one.  However, I would assume that most of us would see this one as intrusive and creepy, to say the least. - J. Frederick

A good summary of Mr. Schell's thesis can be viewed in this much shorter YouTube clip:

Confused populace in Nebraska favor one war, oppose another

"WASHINGTON — Nebraskans are eager for U.S. troops to leave Afghanistan, but that doesn't mean they've turned into a bunch of peaceniks.

In fact, nearly two-thirds of the state is ready to bomb Iran to stop that country from developing a nuclear weapon, according to The World-Herald Poll."

That was the beginning of a front page article today in the Omaha World Herald entitled Nebraskans are tired of Afghan war but would support attacking Iran if necessary.  The article shows the disturbing blind patriotism which has afflicted our nation since the George W. Bush administration.  This is hardly a surprise in one of the most staunchly republican states in the union, though a CBS News poll from May 2012 shows a small majority of Americans nationwide favor attacking the oil rich Middle Eastern nation.  Clearly the populace must be further educated about the dangerous and suicidal nature of American foreign policy.  Even in the pro-preemptive attack white paper, Weighing the Costs and Benefits of Military Action Against Iran, the authors admit "All this said, a unilateral attack by the United States would still come under heavy international criticism. And the potential for costly retaliation by Iran—direct and indirect—would not be significantly reduced under circumstances of greater certainty about whether Iran is actually building a bomb."  We at Unofficial Version magazine implore our readers to support the anti-war effort more now than ever to avoid this inevitably disastrous war.

The Saparmurat Niyazov Files #1

J. Frederick's alter ego Saparmurat Niyazov has just updated content on his Tumblr blog.  Click here to view some interesting documents and make the oligarchs a little more uneasy.

"The New Civil War" an Editorial by H.L.F.

The New Civil War

By Heather Larson-Frederick

There is a War in this country.  It's a war waged by right-wing, conservative groups & people against women and the poor.  Every time I turn around, there's a new story about someone, usually a man but not limited to just men (see Ann Coulter, et al), who has some outlandish opinion about how a woman's body works & what like-minded individuals, such as themselves, can do to regulate said body.  Who in this country didn't hear Senator Todd Akin's cringe-worthy words about how "legitimate" rape rarely leads to pregnancy because a woman's body has a way of "shutting that stuff down"?  Really Mr. Akin?  How does that work exactly, and what the hell is a "legitimate rape"?  What constitutes an "illegitimate rape"?  I personally do not see any legitimacy in rape.  None.  

Back in March of this year, Georgia Senator Terry England compared women to cows & pigs, and helped push a bill that would require women to carry still-born babies to term.  What?!  Yes.  Here:  http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2012/03/09/georgia-lawmaker-compares-women-to-cows-and-pigs/  This event, and other similar ones, led the women senators of that state to walk out in protest against the War on Women.  They actually staged a demonstration against the male Republican majority. 

Then there's Ann Coulter, and I quote:  “I think all real females are right-wingers and I can tell you that based on experience — and my bodyguard will back me up on this — all pretty girls are right-wingers. Some of my male fans have hair to their derriere and tattoos up and down their arms; some of my antagonists seem like perfectly attractive, preppy young men. Girls — a pretty girl walking toward your table, you know she is a fan. … The reason unattractive — I suppose — the reason liberal women are liberal is because they have to date liberal men and as we’ve seen from Bill Clinton and Dominique Strauss-Kahn and Anthony Weiner, we’ve seen how liberal men treat women. I’d be angry too.  … I’ll take 69 cents on the dollar [referring to the wage gap between men and women] or whatever current feminist myth is about how much we make, just to have to never have to pay for dinner. That seems like a fair deal to me.”  Really Ann?  Is that why the majority of men you date are Democrats?  Or how about the fact that some of your favorite bands include The Grateful Dead and The Dave Matthews Band?  They're about as liberal as you get as far as bands go.  Is she aware of this fact, or that they’re big into smoking weed?  I guess she can set her personal beliefs aside when it’s convenient for her.

As a feminist, Ann Coulter really gets under my skin.   How can a supposedly intelligent, sophisticated woman believe the garbage she spouts about other women?  I do have doubts as to her intelligence, as evidenced by juvenile comments she has made.  A few years back, on live television, she stated that Jews needed to be 'perfected' by becoming Christians.  A few years after that she stated that moderate Democrats believe that they shouldn't teach children 'fisting' in school until they are at least 12, maybe 11.  If you don't know what fisting is, look it up.  At any rate, that last comment was directed at same-sex marriage.  If you equate fisting with same-sex marriage you obviously haven't watched enough porn.  Maybe I'm wrong in my assumption that Ann Coulter isn't as smart as she seems...she might just be carefully crafting her empire with these idiotic comments.  But what that empire is is just as mysterious to me as Ancient Aliens.

The War on the Poor is also alive and well in this country.  How many comments have I seen by people about how poor people are just lazy, need to get jobs, and quit doing drugs.  Those are all prejudicial statements that assume if you are poor, you are a horrible person.  These kinds of comments not only demean the economically-challenged in this country, but also wrap this socio-economic group into false stereotypes.  It's like saying that all black people eat fried chicken and watermelon.  It's just as offensive and untrue. 

Australian mining heiress Gina Rinehart was recently quoted as saying this:  "If you're jealous of those with more money, don't just sit there and complain," she said in a magazine piece . "Do something to make more money yourself -- spend less time drinking or smoking and socializing, and more time working." (L.A. Times, David Lazarus, 8/30/12)  Keep in mind that this woman was born wealthy and has never ever known what it's like to be poor.  How can she possibly have any idea what it's like to be poor?  Maybe she should spend some time in Africa, where the majority of people are poor....and NOT lazy.  Here:  http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/24/world/africa/24zambia.html?_r=0&pagewanted=all

There's also the conservative mindset concerning healthcare and the poor.   If you are poor, why should those who aren’t poor pay for your healthcare?  The idea is that poor people should get jobs or buy some cheap insurance policy?  What about those people who have jobs but do not have employer provided insurance?  Poor people are poor because they don’t make a lot of money.  How are they supposed to pay for insurance when they can barely pay for necessities.  It doesn’t make sense, especially when it appears that wealthier citizens have no concern for the poor or what happens to them.  In essence, those with aforementioned prejudices, believe that poor people are not only less-than-human and inferior, but also deserve to die.  Have they really thought about who is going to serve their McDonald’s food,  wash their dishes at a fancy restaurant, pave their worn-out roads, haul away their garbage, and the like?  Are they going to do it themselves?  Are their not-poor friends going to do these less-than-desirable societal jobs?

A hot-button subject right now is poor women and healthcare, which encompasses both Wars.  If you are poor and do not want children, or need feminine cares you are screwed.  Likewise if you aren’t necessarily poor but want birth control coverage through your insurance, or other feminine cares, you are also screwed.  Conservative, right-wing folks want to force these people to have babies that are either unwanted, unable to be afforded, or both.  However, if you have these babies and can’t afford them and need state assistance to help care for them, you are poor, lazy, crack whores who just sit around popping out babies so they can live off government largesse.  It’s a lose-lose situation.  If you want to get birth control through your insurance at work, if you are lucky enough to have it, it is assumed that you are just a nasty whore who needs to pay for that out of pocket.  That is a terrible mind-set to have against another person because you are shoving your beliefs and ideals down another’s throat.  You can’t just pick and choose what kind of coverage to give to others.  Why?  Because it’s prejudicial, unequal, and who’s to say down the road that other coverage will also be deemed immoral (or whatever excuse is given) and done away with.  I cannot imagine any parent who has a child with cancer having to try to come up with radiation therapy out-of-pocket because their employer might be a Jehovah’s Witness (for example) and believes in divine intervention.  Let that sink in for a minute.

Look at what Sandra Fluke went through for this speech:  http://www.buzzfeed.com/boxofficebuz/transcript-of-testimony-by-sandra-fluke-48z2  

Her statements about birth control were centered on a friend of hers who needed birth control to prevent cysts from growing on her ovaries.  It was assumed that said friend was lying about why she needed the birth control in the first place and was denied.  She had to have her ovary removed later because she couldn’t get the prescription she needed and now faces early-onset menopause.  It seems grossly inappropriate, among other things, to deny coverage to anyone for any kind of medicine simply based on a moral objection to it.  Her medical condition (which she provided proof for) could have been easily alleviated under normal circumstances.

So yes folks.  There is a War on the Poor, a War on Women, and most assuredly, a War on Poor Women.  Why do other people want to regulate women’s bodies and hate poor people?  I don’t know.  I don’t think it’s jealousy.  I do think it has a lot to do with prejudice and poor judgment.  This country was set up for its citizens to have free will but it sure seems like we’re moving backwards as of late.  It seems ridiculous in this day and age of civilized, privileged people that we still have such a large group of populace whose beliefs seem so uncivilized.  Isn’t it the duty of any country, especially one such as ours, to protect and help the poor and disenfranchised?  After all, this country was built on the backs of these exact same people.  Unless you live in a country whose only citizens are wealthy, which is unrealistic, that’s the way it should be.  As citizens of a freewill nation that was hard fought and won for by our foremothers and fathers, we need to fight back against these kinds of injustices before our rights become extinct.

Childhood Never Ends, episode 3: "Interrogation"

by J. Frederick

3: Interrogation

Gavin tried his best to contain his anxiety. Before him stood a pair of federal police, and they looked him up in down, judging him before Gavin had a chance to make his statement (or so it seemed to him). “Maybe I'm just being paranoid,” Gavin thought to himself, hoping to calm the very real sense of dread and fear that gripped him like an immense, crushing hand. They greeted him with a cold and intimidating stare. One was tall and muscular with angular features. The other was physically unexceptional, but had the unsettling demeanor of an obedient goon. Gavin thought it looked like that they were anxious for an excuse to bind him, capture him, and throw him in a holding cell where they would torture him to death. Again, Gavin tried to calm himself and counter his negative thoughts, though he knew deep down that this sort of thing happened all the time. He lost a good friend and coworker early on in his career as an information architect that way.

When Gavin began his work in information architecture in his mid 20's at the Trans-Atlantic Department of Media headquarters in Washington, he quickly made friends with a man named Fabio, who was born and raised in Spain, went to university at Cambridge, and like all information architects, began his career at the Washington headquarters. They shared interests in playing tennis, watching rugby, 20^th century rock music, and drinking German lager. One day while waiting on the subway platform, a security squad rushed the two friends. Gavin was pinned and handcuffed, and while he lay face down on the ground with the wind still knocked out of him, he saw about a half dozen police, outfitted just like the security squad who had just killed the disruptive woman on the train he was currently on, viciously beat Fabio. Blood poured from his nose, his shattered arm flopped uselessly about as it was torn behind his back. He was thrown to the ground like a rag doll, and then a few of the officers kicked him in the ribs and groin. He was pulled up to his feet by his hair, and then tossed into the back of a motorized cart like a sack of potatoes. Gavin was released and never given an explanation for the incident, and it troubled him deeply. About a week later, he saw Fabio's face on the news, where he was described as a terrorist and had apparently been executed. Gavin never suspected Fabio to be one of those savages, bent on destroying western civilization in the name of their god, but as everyone was taught, one never knows. The terrorists “walk among us, undetected”, and citizens should remain forever vigilant. There was no need to fear, however, as the Federal government had the investigative resources to weed out the terrorist savages and would always find and kill them without hesitation, for the good of society. That was the first time Gavin questioned the judgment of the government, and no matter how mush he tried to put such a ridiculous notion out of his mind, it always remained, like a deep scar on his conscience. Fabio would have been the last person in the world to be connected with terrorism, Gavin thought.

“Mr. Huntsman,” began the lower ranking officer, “Please state your point of origin.”

“Chicago” Gavin answered.

The higher ranking officer nudged his comrade aside. “Pardon my interruption Lieutenant Steinberg.”

“Not a problem, Sgt. Colby.” replied Lt. Steinberg.

“Mr. Huntsman,” continued Colby, “I see here in your file that you were an associate of a Fabio Rodriguez. Do you remember him?”

Gavin's anxiety tighted it's grip, nearly stopping his heart. He kept the straightest face possible and answered: “Hmmm, I'm not sure. I don't think so.”

“It says here that you worked with him at the Department of Media in Washington.” remarked Colby.

“Oh, oh yeah! That guy. Yeah, I remember now. He just stopped coming to work, and next thing I know I see on the news that he was a terrorist. Well, it's a good thing they got him, huh?”

“Right. So you didn't associate with him outside of work?”

“No, not really. He met up with the rest of us guys from the office for a beer after work once in a while, but that was about it.”

“And he never discussed his political or religious beliefs with you?”

“No, never. Besides, if he ever brought it up, I would have told him that I wasn't interested. I could care less about those things, I'm more interested in football and going to the movies.” Gavin forced the most sincere chuckle he could muster.

“Right. So you're a football fan? What's you're team?”

Gavin sighed inwardly. His ruse had worked. “I'm a Steelers man” Gavin answered.

“Ah, you're old school!” Colby's mood had considerably brightened. “I'm a big fan of the London Knights myself.”

“Probably the best of the expansion teams.” added Gavin.

“You bet!” replied Colby. “Alright Mr. Huntsman, back to business. Lieutenant, please continue.” Lt. Steinberg continued with a relatively routine line of questions, including of course the highly personal matters of how many people Gavin was having sex with and what drugs he has ingested. Everything was routine until the final question.

“Alright, Mr. Huntsman, before I release you, I have one final question.”

“Go ahead,” replied Gavin.

“What was your relationship with Ms. Wheeler?”

“Excuse me?” Gavin was confused. The name seemed familiar, but he could not remember where he had heard it before, though he was sure he had heard it recently.

“Ms. Wheeler?” repeated Steinberg. “You know, the woman who had just been neutralized by the security squad for disruption?”

“Her? The screaming woman?” Gavin was dumbfounded.

“Yes sir. Your name was tagged in her file.”

“I... I... I don't know.” Gavin's stomach began churning. Terror began to slither its icy tendrils up his spine, right through his torso and into his heart. Wild thoughts of what was coming next began to flood his mind. Did they think he was a terrorist? Were they going to arrest him? Make him disappear?

“It says here that she consulted you on a project at the D.o.M. Office in Chicago where you currently work.” Steinberg stared at Gavin, with a single eyebrow raised, awaiting his explanation.

“Hmmm, the last time I worked with a consultant was last September. It was a project dealing with a Patriot Day commemoration” Gavin raised his eyes to meet Lt. Steinberg, at this point unable to hide the worry from his face. Steinberg nodded, as if to imply that Gavin should continue. “Uh, I remember working with a woman from the Freedom Project Foundation. She insisted that I call her by her first name, so I don't remember her last.”

“What was her first name?”

“Deborah.”

“Ms. Wheeler's first name was Deborah, Mr. Huntsman.”

“But Deborah was younger” countered Gavin. They could not have been the same woman, he thought.

“Was she brunette, with green eyes, about five feet, six inches in height, approximately 130 pounds?”

“Yeah, I guess she was. But that woman looked old, she was... just not right. And the way she screamed... Deborah didn't sound like that.”

“A lot can change in nine months, Mr. Huntsman. Drug abuse, exposure to chemical agents, injuries, they can all change someone's appearance. But you are sure you did not speak with her the whole time you were on the train?”

“No.”

“Did she approach you?”

“No.”

Lt. Steinberg stared skeptically at Gavin for what seemed like an eternity. Gavin's heart pounded in his chest, as he expected the security squad to swoop in and arrest him at any moment. Steinberg finally reached into his breast pocket and extracted a plastic card with a hologram and a dot matrix code bar upon it. “My card, Mr. Huntsman. You can use it to contact me instantly, should you remember anything.”

Gavin slowly took the card, bewildered.

“You are free to go” said the lieutenant. He motioned towards the exit door on the bullet train. Gavin walked out in a fog of confusion.

Childhood Never Ends, episode 2: "Swift Action"

by J. Frederick

2: Swift Action

Chaos ensued when the woman on the transcontinental line from Chicago to Denver began screaming. The bullet train was near its destination in Denver, and Gavin was ripped from his trance-like boredom as the well dressed, though haggard looking woman leaped up and began howling hysterically. She was middle aged, with stringy and unkempt black hair. Harsh lines cut through her forehead and jutted from the corners of her mouth and eyes like thorns on a rosebush. Dark bags hung under her wild eyes and she looked like she hadn't slept in over a week. Tension vibrated throughout her entire body like ripples in a pool of water whose calm had been broken by the drop of a pebble. Presently, she was shouting a barely coherent diatribe, and making all of her co-passengers varying degrees of uncomfortable, annoyed, and terrified.

“Don't make me disappear!” she cried in the shrill voice of the insane. “You can't take away my existence! I won't do it! No more! NOOOOOOO!!!!!”

What followed was truly shocking and the woman's behavior paled in comparison. “Ms. Wheeler, please return to your seat and stop disrupting this passenger transport. You have 5 seconds to comply,” boomed an authoritative sounding synthesized male voice over the train's loudspeakers. She screamed in frustration at the warning, began to dart her wild green eyes about randomly, and twisted her torso, desperately looking for path of escape.

The response that followed was swift, brutal, and took place only three seconds after the audible warning. A door at the rear of the passenger cabin burst open, and into the aisle sprinted about a dozen police in full riot gear, carrying fully automatic machine guns and a wide array of “less than lethal” weapons. The officer at the head of the squad pointed what looked like a child's toy ray gun at Ms. Wheeler, and Gavin recognized the device as a stun gun. The news networks often showed footage of police using these devices on criminals, and they were incredibly effective. In fact, Gavin remembered seeing a documentary where one of these stun guns stopped a charging bull in its tracks, but the beast awoke unharmed moments later. Gavin was about to learn that the so-called documentary he had watched was less than accurate.

“Lay face down on the ground! NOW!” shouted the officer at the head of the strike squad, his voice muffled by his gas mask. The woman was given maybe two seconds to comply, and the officer fired his stun gun. A bright blue arc of electricity arced from the tip of his stun gun and struck Ms. Wheeler directly in the center of her chest. The arc of electricity crackled like a bolt of lightning, and the woman violently arched her back and flailed her arms about wildly. She then hit the floor, convulsing. Her wild eyes rolled back into her head, and foam began to seep out of the corner of her mouth. The stench of ozone, burnt fabric, and charred flesh filled the passenger cabin. The women and children on the train broke into a cacophony of screaming, whimpering, and sobbing. Most men stayed silent, except for a few patriotic individuals who cheered on the police squad. “Let her have it!” one man grunted, displaying his machismo.

An officer in a chrome silver helmet emblazoned with the black and gold emblem of the T.A.F. stepped forward. Though he was clad in carbon fiber body armor, black and gray combat fatigues, and an insect-like gas mask (with bulbous portholes for the eyes and a pair of air filters by the mouth which resembled a menacing pair of mandibles) like all the other officers, his helmet insignia and the word “COMMANDER” embroidered on his flak jacket signified that he was the squad leader. “Medic!” he ordered. “Check this suspect's vitals.”

Another officer rushed forward, clad in identical body armor, fatigues, and gas mask, except his entire garb was colored a sterile, blinding shade of white. The ancient Hippocratic symbol of the intertwined snakes was prominently displayed on his flak jacket, along with the word “MEDIC”, as if to beat the obvious into one's memory. He quickly holstered his firearm, and drew out a device which resembled a 20^th century era cattle prod, with a large LED display screen. He jabbed the probe into the woman's neck. “She has a pulse... barely. No brain activity is registering, sir.” reported the medic.

“Euthanize her,” ordered the commander, in an oddly matter-of-fact tone. Three more officers stepped forward, two of them wrapping a translucent plastic cowl around the woman's head. The third extracted a sleeve from the hood, and rolled it over his gun barrel like a sheath. There was a “PINK!” sound from the silenced weapon, like that of a hail stone hitting a tin roof, and a burst of blood covered the inside of the bag, faintly visible through the semi-clear plastic. Through the hood it looked a sickly grayish-red, like the color of faded paint on a park bench. Ms. Wheeler fell limp, and was, if nothing else put out of the misery of her madness. Two more officers stepped forward with a gurney and, with the help of the previous pair of police who had cowled the woman's head, lifted her body upon it. The legs were extended and the squad exited quickly and quietly through the door at the front of the passenger car. Almost simultaneously, six more people swiftly entered the cabin, two of them in police uniforms, complete with peaked caps, black slacks, shirts, and ties. Their chests were adorned with medals, badges, and patches. The other four were various professional looking people, one gaunt middle-aged bald man with horn-rimmed eye glasses, a lab coat, and doctor's scrubs; a woman in her late twenties or early thirties with a bun in her hair, a charcoal-colored pencil dress, and a stern look; another older gentleman in a three piece suit with gray hair and a beard, who eerily resembled Sigmund Freud; and a non-threatening looking young woman, with wiry curls, a rounded face, and a form fitting yet conservative floral printed dress. A gentle smile crossed her lips, and her eyes looked moist with sympathy.

Immediately the team began to go to work. The pair of the police officers stepped to the front of the train car, and the taller and more muscular looking one announced: “Please, everyone remain calm. The situation is under control. Officer Steinberg and I will be taking statements from all of you, and we can assure your safety thanks to the Peace Keeping Unit. We will not be releasing any information to you at this point, or answering any of your questions until the investigation is complete. My name is Sergeant Colby, at your service.”

“We have a team of health professionals here to assist you, thanks in advance to all of you for your cooperation,” added Officer Steinberg.

The train rolled to a halt at the Denver station, and a pleasant sounding female voice informed the passengers that they had arrived at their destination, and instructed them to remove their safety belts. “At this point,” explained Sgt. Colby, “I will ask each of you who do not require medical and/or psychological aide to please line up single file in front of us so that we may record your statements. I apologize for any inconvenience.”

“Great,” Gavin thought to himself, “I'm never getting off this train.”

Gavin looked around the train car, and saw the young woman with curly hair embracing and cooing a young girl no older than eight, whose body heaved with great sobs. She freed one of her hands and gently stroked the cheek of the girl's mother, reassuring her. The mother grasped a baby in her arms, who oblivious to the weight of the situation, stared blankly about the passenger cabin. The man who was a dead ringer for Freud crouched down next to a frail elderly gentleman, his wrinkled face wracked with confusion. The two of them conversed in muted tones. The man in medical garb used a stethoscope and examined a distraught old woman, her fat face flushed red, and her massive bosom heaving as she hyperventilated from terror. He told her to calm herself, in a tone of mock sympathy. The other young woman with the bun in her hair was closely observing everyone in the train car marking notes on her tablet computer.

Obediently, most of the other passengers began to line up in front of Sgt. Coby and Officer Steinberg. Both of the policemen had hand held computers like the young lady with the bun in her hair, and began interviewing the passengers one by one, taking notes as they asked questions. Gavin stood in the middle of the line, crossing his arms across his thin torso. Gavin was 35 years old, and blended well into a crowd. He was a pretty typical American¹, about six feet tall, with pale skin, short brown hair, and blue eyes. He was clad in the casual fashion of the day, a pair of slim fitting khaki pants and a crew necked t-shirt made out of synthetic material that changed color from a deep navy blue to a sea foam green, depending on the lighting. The train car was brightly lit, so his shirt had changed to a muted tone of forest green. Gavin's only real distinguishing physical feature was that he had unusually large feet and hands for his height. He was slightly ashamed of this, and received merciless ridicule because of it from elementary school all the way to university. He had roomed with a basketball player at the University of Pittsburgh, where he had received his bachelor's in informational architecture, who towered over him and most other students at six feet ten inches, and wore a size 15 shoe. Gavin's old roommate, teasing him about the size of his feet, challenged him to try on his shoes, which nearly fit him. The ribbing that ensued was almost intolerable, but at least Gavin could look back now and laugh about it.

In front of Gavin was a young woman – a girl, really – who was at most 20 years old. Like most young people in his day's society, she was clad in the attire of one of many outrageous fashion trends. She was wearing a pair of thigh high vinyl high-heeled boots, colored an obnoxious shade of neon green. A pair of matching briefs covered her pelvis, and a comically small lavender jacket covered in long spikes of rubber barely covered the top of her torso. Her hair was teased high in the air, bleached white with random rainbow hued streaks. Her makeup made her look like a week-old corpse, and she was oblivious to the world around her, enraptured by her network connected sunglasses. From behind the lenses, one could see her empty eyes darting about, watching videos, looking at images. She murmured into the microphone on her earpiece as she chatted online with people she considered friends, though she had never met them in person.

“Unbelievable!” groaned the man behind Gavin. He did his best to ignore him, but the man needed to vent upon someone, and unfortunately for Gavin, the man decided it would be him. “I'm supposed to be at a meeting a Lincoln Park in an hour and now I'll never make it. Can you believe that lady!” Gavin turned slightly to acknowledge the man, who was a stout man about the same age as him. He was dressed in a cheap business suit and his auburn hair was encrusted with an excessive amount of styling gel. A pencil thin mustache and a pair of rimless eyeglasses completed his repugnant appearance. The line moved forward ever so slightly and Gavin felt relief as he looked forward and saw only the girl in front of him and a dark skinned man in a dashiki ahead of the girl as his only obstacles between him and getting off this horrible train.

The dark skinned man spoke politely to the police men, who nodded as they took his statement, jotting notes down on their tablet computers with a metal stylus. The officers nodded towards the exit, satisfied with the man's account, and motioned for the girl to move forward. Wrapped up in her online world, she did not initially respond. Sergeant Colby ordered her to step forward once again in an exasperated tone. “Ma'am, I'll need you to remove your netglasses and come give us a statement – now.” Ever vigilant, Officer Steinberg hovered his hand over his side arm.

“Oh em gee!” she sighed. “Kay, sup?” Gavin wanted to cringe at her spurious slang. The woman shuffled toward the officers, acting as a child might when forced to go to bed. She removed her “netglasses” and as her black painted lips pouted, she placed her hands on her hips.

Officer Steinberg began asking her a battery of questions. He began: “Where was your point of origin?”

The girl responded, “Minneapolis.”

“This train only travels from Chicago to Denver.”

“I mean I took the Minneapolis to Miami train and transferred onto this one in Chicago.”

“OK, please keep your answers simple from now on”, ordered Steinberg, who looked momentarily at his tablet computer, “Miss Tsoukolis”. There was no longer any need to check identification in this day in age, with RF chip implants, retinal scanners everywhere, and facial recognition cameras prevalent. Steinberg continued: “Are you currently menstruating?”

She looked slightly uncomfortable. Everyone knew the probing nature of these police interrogations, but no one got completely used to the highly personal nature of the questions. “No.” she answered.

“Have you eaten any shellfish in the past 24 hours?”

“Um, yes. I had shrimp for din-”

Steinberg cut her off. “Simple answers please!” he quipped.

The girl looked at the floor, remorseful. “Sorry.”

“That's fine. Let's continue. How many sexual partners do you currently have?”

She gulped. “Three.”

“What are their genders?”

“Two males, one female.”

“Have you taken any recreational drugs in the past 36 hours?”

“MDMA.”

“How long ago?”

“Um... about 18 hours ago, I guess?”

“Well, was it 18 hours ago or not?”

“I'm pretty sure...”

“Good enough. What were the names of Chancellor Golan's parents?”

“Ari and Sara.”

“What is today's date?”

“May 17^th.”

“Did you notice anything unusual boarding the train?”

“Um... no.”

“And during the ride?”

“Well, no, nothing. Not until that woman…“

“I'm getting to that. Did you speak to the woman at all during your ride?”

“No.”

“Did you notice any odd behavior from her before security entered the passenger cabin?”

“Well, when she started to scream, I did.”

Officer Steinberg tapped the screen of his tablet a few times, looked up at the girl, and said “You're free to go Miss Tsoukolis.” A noticeable look of relief passed her face, and she quickly strode out the door onto the platform. Steinberg then looked at Gavin and said, “You're next Mr. Huntsman. Please step forward.”

Gavin could not help but feel a twinge of fear crawl up his spine. It was very normal to fear police in the T.A.F. for one slip of the tongue could make things turn ugly very quickly. Gavin took a deep breath and stepped forward for his interrogation.

1All citizens of the Trans-Atlantic Federation continue to identify themselves by their “nation” of origin, although the T.A.F. is ruled by one central government.

Today on the web (9.4.12)

Mickey Edwards on "democracy's cancer"

G. Edward Griffin "A Collectivist Conspiracy"

Check often with UVM's tumblr blog for what's new and interesting online!

"Voting won't get you what you want, but you may as well do it."

Editorial by J. Frederick

What you’re about to read is little more than a rant, and stream of conscience diatribe on the 2012 election for POTUS.  Ever since G.W. Bush ran against Al Gore and John Kerry, and Obama vs McCain, I have become increasingly disenfranchised with the American political process.  The republicans, in election after election, have been giving us different version of the same old backwards Christian fundamentalist white guy.  Even now with Mitt Romney, it’s more of the same.  Anyone who argues that Mormonism isn’t a Christian sect doesn’t understand religion.  The democrats have given us the same soft “revolutionary”, guys who talk big, but don’t have the cojones to do anything significant.  Democrats would of course argue that Obama is a revolutionary, with his Affordable Health Care Act (a.k.a. “Obamacare”) supposedly guaranteeing health care for all Americans.  The republicans also think it’s revolutionary, but the kind of revolution that Lenin and Mao had (bad), not the kind that Jefferson, Franklin, and Washington led (good).  Look at it closely, and it’s neither.  It’s a pat on the back to the health care and insurance industries, and more bureaucratic hoops to jump through.  Obama’s only accomplishment is being a minority and getting elected president in a country that is only slightly less racist than South Africa (who elected their first black president in the 1990’s, even though apartheid ended only four short years before Mandela’s election).  I don’t need to get into Kerry or Gore, who together are more boring than a “manila envelope pinned to a beige wall”, to paraphrase Stephen Colbert.

Continued here.

Childhood Never Ends, Episode 1

Childhood Never Ends is a dystopian sci-fi series written by J. Frederick, who is also known as Saparmurat Niyazov on Tumblr.

Gavin woke from his unintended slumber with a start. He had been asleep for only a couple minutes, and he wasn't exactly tired, but train rides were so damn boring. Everywhere one looked, it was the same thing: an endless expanse of dusty scrub-land littered with the dilapidated remains of forgotten towns and farms. Crossing the Midwest was to tempt insanity. What a desolate place it was! Gavin, like every other citizen, was dumbfounded at the stupidity of their ancestors. Who in their right mind would try to farm a barren dessert? When the ancient Europeans arrived in North America 600 years ago, they began staking claim to huge swaths of land, as the history goes, hoping to grow grain and raise cattle in what was, and still is to this day, effectively a desert. Of course they dug canals for irrigation, and when the industrial era began in the 19th century, they built machines that carried water to the fields and developed industrial fertilizers in laboratories that eked out a bit more of a yield from their meager crops, but it was such a useless endeavor. It was hard to believe that it wasn't until the 2050's that hydroponic farming had been adopted wide scale, and ended the problems of world hunger, non-renewable fuel sources, and unsustainable resources for industry: textile, building materials, et cetera. Such was the world of the capital socialists. Their idea of utopia was that of a welfare state that was held up on the backs of the bourgeois. Thankfully for Gavin, and everyone else in the world, the class struggles which created a seemingly endless stream of ideological excrement (capitalism, socialism, communism, fascism, theocracy, democracy, monarchy, and on and on) was finally solved in the 2040's when the greatest man who ever lived, David Golan, created a revolutionary societal system: predictive redistributionism.
Life in what used to be the United States and Europe was perfect, as far as Gavin and practically everyone else was concerned.  David Golan, the first Chancellor, united the old world with the new, and created the Trans-Atlantic Federation, rescuing the United States of America and the European Union from economic and societal collapse, famine, and civil war.  Western civilization, at its zenith, was the greatest society in human history, but then began to spiral downward and collapse in the early 21st century.  With the creation of the T.A.F. and the implementation of predictive redistributionism (often just called Golanism, after its creator), Golan somehow rescued the western world from collapse and made the absolute perfect society.  No one in the T.A.F. ever wanted or needed for anything.  While that was the objective of socialism, which made its best efforts to create a just society worldwide in the 19th and 20th centuries, it failed to address one basic human need:  the desire to achieve, succeed, and the value of merit.  Golanism united the two seemingly opposing problems of creating equal opportunity for every man woman and child while rewarding the achievements of productive individuals by the key component of the term "predictive redistributionism":  prediction.
Through a scientific process of biological and psychological analysis of every man, woman, and child, the Golanist procedure of "predictive analysis" can determine what the best choices for any person are to achieve their personal level of maximum satisfaction in all aspects of their life:  education, occupation, even family and leisure.  Giving everyone a clear path in life to follow has made the most productive society in all of history.
Gavin rather liked his "life path" (the best course of action for one to take as recommended by predictive analysis).  He was steered into a career as an information architect, creating content for the social media outlets used by the Golanist party, which has ran the government of the T.A.F. since its inception.  Politics in the T.A.F. were inclusive, embracing the freedom of speech and expression.  Just because the Golanist party had dominated the T.A.F. about 50 years, it did not mean that other political parties and ideologies were oppressed.  There were still all the archaic political parties:  republicans, democrats, socialists, conservatives, communists, nationalists.  There were new ones, too:  Neo-theocrats, singularitians, anarcho-capitalists, anarchic collectivists, and neo-fascists.  Everyone was given equal say in debates, which were staged constantly on a wide array of media, but the infallible nature of Golanism always won due to it's purity and perfection of reason.  Those who were members of those other political parties were just in a difficult stage in their "life path" and simply needed a little guidance to their final destination:  Golanism.  Everyone went  through this, even Gavin himself.
He mused quite often about those days, as he was doing right now on his transcontinental train ride.  When he graduated preparatory school and began going to university, he was as rebellious as an 18 year old boy could be.  He read about the communist revolutionaries of the 19th and 20th centuries (Marx, Lenin, Mao, Guevarra) and decided that he wanted to be a communist himself.  He didn't like the competitive nature of Golanist education, and just wanted everything to be easy and equal, which was the promise of a communist society.  It wasn't until his professor of Golanist studies had shown him the values of merit and hard work had he finally understood:  Golan's way was the best way.

An inoffensive, yet obstreperous tone notified Gavin that the train was reaching its next stop.  Although the train had been zipping across the Midwest as 600 kilometers per hour, thanks to magnetic levitation propulsion, the ride from Chicago to Denver had seemed to take two and a half weeks rather than two and a half hours.  Gavin wished that he could have taken a sub-orbital plane, which could have covered the same distance in less than half the time, but was a type of transport that was only used for extremely long distances because it was simply inefficient for shorter jaunts.  There were only a few routes, such as Los Angeles to New York, Washington to London, or San Francisco to Tokyo, and sub-orbital flights were also prohibitively expensive.

"Denver, E.T.A. 15 minutes.  Please prepare for departure, and thank you for riding Intertrack." said the synthesized voice of a computer generated hologram of an attractive, yet completely average looking woman.  Her projected form looked gently from passenger to passenger, nodding slightly, and meeting everyone's gaze with a pleasing smile.  Her form evaporated into a series of commercials, acted out by three dimensional holograms of people, mostly computer generated, for products ranging from toothpaste to underwear to automobiles.  All the passengers began the routine of gathering their carry on luggage and then having a seat and fasting their seat belts.

Everything seemed perfectly normal, except Gavin had noticed a woman across the aisle from him behaving strangely.  Her stringy black hair hung over her pale face, but could not conceal the bags under her eyes and the quivering of her bottom lip.  Her piercing green eyes darted about the passenger cabin, and she wrung her hands about nervously in her lap.  He thought she seemed to be an odd contrast:  she had looked disheveled and perhaps a bit crazy, but she was dressed in highly fashionable clothing and wore tasteful jewelry denoting a successful person of high status.  Gavin looked away and decided to think nothing of it, until everyone in the cabin was shocked when she bolted upright from her seat a couple minutes later and began screaming.

To be continued in Episode 2...

Social Credit Theory: Money Grows in Trees! by Overwatch

Social Credit Theory: Money grows in trees!

By Overwatch

There are several topics that I contemplated writing about this time, but the sudden pervasiveness of this repackaged “Free Lunch” economics insists that I do whatever I can to save the minds of those searching for answers as the current economic system implodes around them.

The most important point has already been made twice, first in the “Money grows in trees” reference and secondly in referencing the theory as a “Free Lunch” theory. The Theory of Social Credit posits that the immutable economic law of scarcity is somehow suspended if people just “believe”. If something seems too good to be true, it probably is; and it definitely is in this case.

For those who may be unfamiliar with what the Social Credit Theory/ Argument is, I will go over the basics very quickly. Social Credit advocates rightly attack the destructive nature of debt based fiat currencies, noting that paying an entity for fiat money creation (in the case of the US, bond holders and/through the Federal Reserve System) , seems like paying for nothing. Why not just print the money, instead of making interest payments on it as well (from taxes or through printing with no debt backing the new money)? Social Credit arguments centered on the US quote excerpts from the US Constitution (Article I, Section 8 “The Congress shall have Power….. to coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of foreign Coin, and fix the Standard of Weights and Measures”) to point out how the US Government has needlessly abrogated this right to a public-private partnership to the detriment of the taxpayer and national fiscal health. Again, why not just print the money? We could have all the money we want for free! Sounds pretty sweet right? On the contrary, this theory is possibly the only thing worse than the current system.

The first problem with this theory is it focuses on only one aspect of the entire economy (money, or the exchange medium), and then focuses only on one aspect of the exchange medium (debt base). It does not take into account the problems of fiat (“by decree”, or “legal tender laws”, a government supported monopoly of money), central banking (the cartelization and monopoly of the banking sector), fractional reserve banking (the freedom of the banks to keep less reserves than the amount needed to cash out deposits, etc.), or the inflationary aspect of cheaply produced currency (particularly fiat). Social Credit advocates go so far as to say that inflation is good for the economy, while it is deflation that is bad, speaking only in terms of how deflation makes things bad for borrowers. I thought the point was to avoid debt? That is only one example of the cognitive dissonance required to make this Theory fly.

So in this potential land of unicorns and marshmallows, Social Credit Theorists claim that a country may just print all the money it wants, and thereby fund all the social programs, infrastructure projects, etc. that the people of the nation need, while also providing enough money for everyone to live comfortably, while legal tender laws ensure cooperation from everyone. They usually reference prior usage of “free money” in the US in glowing terms, such as “Colonial Scrip” and Lincoln’s “Greenbacks” as examples of success. They even go so far as to suggest that Lincoln was assassinated by the banking establishment for bringing this wonderful economic freedom to the citizens of the country. However, they never spend any time on expounding the full history of those currencies, and for good reason. They must leave out important facts about these currencies, that they were used to fund wars (how noble and helpful), the notes were supposed to be backed by specie (precious metals) but either never were or only partially (lies) , and that after some time they often could only be spent at gunpoint (particularly in the case of the Colonial Scrip, the Continental Army was not above stealing supplies when wagonloads of paper scrip was refused). Why give up real goods and services for paper and ink? This leads into the next argument.

Austrian economists have always held that precious metals will win the currency competition in a free market economy (I will not explain this whole argument here, as there are plenty of free resources online about this position). Social Credit Theorists disagree, positing that in a free market economy, “Social Credit banks” will offer interest free loans of the money-printed-on-demand, and that since any loans in commodities will require interest with repayment, the cheaper loans from the Social Credit institutions will quickly run commodity currencies out of the market. They overlook a key problem with this assertion: Just because you can get a loan, doesn’t mean the seller has to accept the payment. Without legal tender laws, Gresham’s law (bad money will drive out good money) does not work. I have yet to see a social credit theorist explain why someone would sell hard earned real goods or sell their labor for something they could easily print up themselves at home, or notice that when they appeal to Gresham’s law in defense, they are admitting to supporting bad money. This leads us back into the initial contention with “Free money”: If printing as much money as desired is the path to prosperity, why don’t we all just start printing our own money? Why not just start paying for things in literal monopoly money? What makes this different from counterfeiting?

The Social Credit Theory is merely another attempt at a free lunch. Stealing. Getting something for nothing. If one entity can make money as it pleases, why bother with loans from them? Why can’t you do it? Why can’t we all do it? Of course if we all do it, it would be worthless, which is why Social Credit Theorists don’t like this question, or really any questions that don’t involve their anti-bond arguments. When someone counterfeits (creates) money, they get the goods the purchase for free. This is no different than anyone else printing money, whether it’s the US Treasury and Federal Reserve, or a Social Credit institution. There (Still) Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch (TANSTAAFL).

Abuse of police power in Colorado?

In continuation of a theme, presented previously by UVM contributor Overwatch , the Rothbardian blog Capitalism Is Freedom is spreading the word about what seems to be an overzealous reaction on behalf of law enforcement to a bank robbery in Aurora, Colorado.  Denver news outlet, KMGH channel 7 (local ABC affiliate) , reported that "Aurora police stopped dozens of cars and pulled out their drivers at gunpoint looking for a bank robbery suspect Saturday afternoon.".  Is this use of police power justified?  Head over to the Unofficial Version Magazine Facebook page to leave your opinion on this story by commenting on the link to this article.  Also feel free to comment through our Twitter feed and use the hashtag #AbuseOfPower.

Illusions and Cost by Overwatch

Illusions and Cost: A look at the Western State Security Apparatus

by Overwatch

In my last article, I attempted to explain time preferences and to a lesser degree, opportunity cost. As a refresher, opportunity cost is whatever you give up to make the choices that you make. As an example: If you decide to go to a movie instead of going out to eat, your opportunity cost is going out to eat. Opportunity cost applies to both time and money. I want to use this economic principle and address one of the most basic functions of coercive government: The Justice System, to include but not limited to police, courts, prisons, executive administration, etc.

Even the minarchist accepts the need for government to provide these functions, and the legitimacy thereof. To talk disparagingly of policemen, courts, or anything else related to law creation/enforcement/punishment, is to be eyed as a "criminal sympathizer", or possibly a criminal in fact. Why would any "law abiding citizen" have a problem with the boys in blue or the venerable judges? I will attempt to address two objective reasons here: Illusions and Cost.

It is no secret that the domestic security apparatus in the United States is larger than ever. Police departments are purchasing drones and tanks, the Border Patrol has checkpoints all along the border, the TSA inspects everyone boarding a plane, security camera networks abound in midscale and large cities. This apparatus is not free, but the gross expense is justified in the name of "safety". But does the apparatus actually provide safety? If so, safety for and from what?

Let's start with police. The most iconic of all local state functionaries, the propaganda says that cops do the dirty work in the streets of Everytown, USA so that we may sleep safe in our beds. Is this true? Let's take a closer look.

First, we must identify the threat. In this sense, the threats to the individual are murder, rape, theft, and assault. How do police protect you from these attacks? The Supreme Court has specifically ruled that the police are under no obligation to protect you (Castle Rock vs. Gonzales). So what are we paying them for? Glorified cleanup crews, in the case of legitimate crimes. Theft in many cases isn't even followed up on, and the number of violent crimes against the average citizen are startlingly small in a statistical sense.

Police do have their hands full though. With what? The War on Drugs, and crimes against the state. In other words, victimless crimes. Drug laws, speed limits, licenses and regulatory fee enforcement. Are you any safer when there is a drug bust? Potentially, but why was there a "Drug operation" of "thugs" operating to begin with? The consequences of arbitrary state laws. Do you feel any safer when you see the patrol car hiding behind some bushes next to the highway? Of course not.

This does not even begin to cover the cost of prisons, not only monetarily, but on the fabric of society itself. By treating people who commit victimless "crimes" as criminals, the incentive to not participate in actual criminal activity is eroded, families are fractured, and resentment against "society" grows.

So we spend billions on police and prisons, who not only are under no obligation to keep us safe, but actively work to make our lives hell if we so much as step outside of ever shifting, arbitrary lines. This is certainly not freedom, and we receive only the illusion of security in the tradeoff. What is a voluntary alternative approach?

Let's say 5% of everything you make goes to pay for the law enforcement apparatus. If you make the national average of $41,000 per year, $2,000 goes to this cause. What could you otherwise do with those earnings to actually provide a measure of safety for yourself and/or those around you, without the added assault on your freedom?

Maybe you and your neighbors could pool this saved money and hire an actual night watchman. Maybe you could purchase a firearm and requisite training/accessories. Maybe you could install your own security system. Also, the money and effects thereof would accumulate over time. So this year you purchase the firearm and open and insurance policy against loss by theft/murder/assault. Next year you purchase the security system. The following year you hire a security firm. If the security firm fails to protect you and/or your property, they may be fired, unlike the police, giving them an actual incentive to perform their job. Over time you may be able to boast quite the comprehensive personal safety system.

Let us say that even with all these different steps, a crime is committed. Let's say that someone manages to steal something from your property. Insurance covers the loss, and may or may not review crime statistics in your area to see if rates may need to rise (just as car insurance does in areas prone to carjacking). Your loss is mitigated and you may move on. Why are you concerned about the thief "getting away with it"? If the population has taken general measures of protection and defense, and he continues to attempt to steal, he cannot be eternally "lucky". If he is, it's no worse than the police taking your case and tossing it into the back of a filing cabinet. If, in a popular argument, the thief is stealing because there is no "social safety net" and he is trying to eat, even more reason to let it go.

Let us say something worse occurs, such as murder. In general, the same thing applies. Insurance against murder protects the financial situation of the family, and if you had already taken precautions for physical security, nothing the police could/would have done would have changed the outcome. So now we are left with the problem of "justice". What is the objective difference between the investigation/court/prison process and either "vigilantism" or doing nothing? Certainly little difference from the position of the person assaulted and/or the bereaved family. Conversely, the cost for the former process only adds insult to injury. The total number of homicides in the US in 2007 was 18,361. The conviction rate was only 61% in 2007. So we are willing to spend billions of dollars a year, to ensure that 11,200 people in a country of over 300 million are "put in a timeout" (which costs even more). This doesn't even go into how many of the homicides were related to the "War on Drugs". Also, we have no way of knowing if those 18,361 people may have been able to protect themselves had it not been for the cost and existence of the law enforcement apparatus. It certainly doesn't matter to them after the fact that the boys in blue show up with the chalk.

Contrary to popular belief, the state and it's law enforcement apparatus creates criminals, it does not protect the population from them. Of course, the smarter criminals find ways to work from inside the state instead of against it. Think about that the next time you see a smiling politician, a police cruiser, or a stern military officer.

UVM's New Angle

Changes are coming to Unofficial Version Magazine, and our hiatus will soon come to an end.  First of all, we have a new direct email address:  UnoffcialVersionMagazine@h-and-j-enterprises.com.  Please direct all correspondence to this address from now on, and please feel free to write!  We welcome any input from our readers!
Now, on to the above image.  It displays the new format for UVM:  Unofficial Version Magazine will become an anarchist publication.  Anarchism is a misunderstood, and to the surprise of some, diverse worldview, which we hope to educate all those interested about the facts and nuances of this belief system.  Content will remain basically the same:  UVM will be filled with news summaries, insightful articles, and intelligently written editorials.  Please check back regularly with unofficialverionmagazine.com for details!

Thanks, J. Frederick, editor
J. Frederick on Facebook

Political Divisiveness Has Officially Ruined Everything an editorial by Jeremy Frederick

Political Divisiveness Has Officially Ruined Everything

by Jeremy Frederick

Politics in the United States have become incredibly divisive over the past decade, and to add insult to injury, ubiquitous. There's no avoiding politics. People used to identify themselves by their religion, their ancestry, and even their subculture. Now everyone wears their party affiliation on their sleeve. Of course, with there being only two eligible political parties in our country, it creates a clear and definite line between liberal and conservative, left and right, democrat and republican. All this has done for our society is divide us into two neat little groups: red states and blue states. Nothing else matters, and this became apparent to me when I noticed the one consistent love, indeed passion of my life to be polluted by this asinine pissing contest that is politics. I'm talking about the politicization of heavy metal music.

Metal used to, much like it's unofficial mascot, Satan, stand for rebellion against the status quo, living outside the norm, bucking the system, and whatever cliché you want to throw into the mix. Much like Satan, heavy metal was “the accuser”, the last bastion of rebellion against all that is conformist. Unfortunately, fewer and fewer people realize that choosing one of two sides of the same corrupt coin is about as rebellious a child being sent to bed on time, but sitting there in the dark and quietly refusing to sleep. It's a meaningless gesture that just makes the so-called “activist” feel exhausted. I fear that the subculture of heavy metal as a whole has succumbed to left/right rift that is tearing the western world in two.

I'm not saying that heavy metal has been devoid of politicization, in fact politics have always had a presence in heavy metal lyrical themes. Black Sabbath's “War Pigs”, Iron Maiden's “Two Minutes To Midnight”, and a great deal of Metallica and Megadeth's songs are all relatively early examples. The difference then from now, however, is that those songs represented a disdain for authority, and contempt towards the corrupt base of power in our society. Today, metal musicians and journalists who cover the scene are making their allegiances known, and instead of questioning and criticizing those in power, they are making endorsements.

Dave Mustaine's recent unofficial endorsement of Rick Santorum for President of the United States is a prime example. And then there is the inevitable backlash, from the likes of Odorus Urungus of Gwar and metalsucks.net, who believe that heavy metal music is appropriately placed on the left side of politics and needs to stay that way. To say that heavy metal music and culture has anything to do with conservatism is indeed absurd, but heavy metal as a culture is much more nuanced than that. If heavy metal culture was a stalwart liberal constituency, Barrack Obama would surely be scheduling campaign appearances at this year's Maryland Death Feast, a short flight via Marine One from the White House, but so far his administration has not announced any such plans. Heavy metal culture embraces personal liberty and responsibility, the “Do as thou wilt” of Aleistar Crowley, the “virtue of selfishness” professed by Ayn Rand. If heavy metal should be the back drop of any political movement, it would be libertarianism. But metal does not, and should not do this. Metal is a culture unto itself, and it is a culture of resistance against politics and the quest for power over many by the few. Heavy metal embraces the power of the individual; it is the artistic synthesis of anarchism.

Politics does have a place in music, metal or otherwise. Most people are confused and depressed by current events, especially politics, so they escape them through music. Metalheads are no less guilty of this than hip-hop, pop, country, jazz, or even dubstep fans. That dude in leather jacket with the Immortal patch is more interested in the mythical kingdom of Blashyrkh than The Arab Spring or the GOP Convention, and who could blame him? But, it is good for society, and every sub-culture within it, to be aware of the issues of the day. And this awareness can and should be slipped in surreptitiously among songs about demons, orcs, psychopathic serial killers, or loose women wearing little more than leather chaps. But it's best to keep it in the background. That way if the listener wants to delve deeper into the wider concept and enlighten themselves they can, while the rest of us can bang our heads. Unfortunately, in a now perpetual election cycle and worldwide civil unrest, everyone has their opinion and feels obligated to share it. You know the old joke about opinions being like rectums.

I live and breath 2 things: music (especially heavy metal) and knowledge about the world around me. I want to know what's going on at all times. A negative consequence of that, however, is that I think too much (which is what my friends and family always complain to me about). That's why I need heavy metal. I need the dark humor of a Cannibal Corpse song about turning tattooed human skin into wall hangings and the wild fantasy of a Blind Guardian song. Sadly, evidence is mounting that no one cares about escapism anymore. In this age of instant and infinite information, we're beginning to forget how to empty our heads and daydream for a while.

Are conspiracy theorists right? Report confirms fracking cause earthquakes.

The problem with the label "conspiracy theory" is that is used as a blanket term to describe everything from ridiculous conjecture, such as the theory that the world's leaders are actually shape-shifting reptilian aliens, to verifiable, albeit controversial facts.  This culture of blind skepticism has kept many so-called conspiracy theories away from being reported by the media unless the facts become too obvious to ignore, such as in the case of the ATF's "Fast and Furious" operation, which proved that United State's government agencies were involved in the illegal gun trade.
Now a Department of Natural Resources report has shown that the natural gas extraction method known as "fracking" causes earthquakes, just as many so-called "conspiracy theorists" had predicted.  Several news agencies, including NPR confirmed environmentalists' fears today regarding the link between a greater than ever amount of earthquakes in the American Midwest and hydraulic fracturing, or "fracking".