So it looks like SOPA, the censorship bill that would have crippled the Internet, is dead.

Except, it was not a censorship bill.

And it probably would not have crippled the internet.

Sure, it would have affected you if your name was, oh, Perez Hilton.  Imagine how that would have worked?  He would never have been able to download, edit, and repost any picture of any model, actress, or celebrity.

Let’s say you are a music reviewer.  You go out and you buy a CD from your local store and share your thoughts with your readers each week.  Should a record company feel froggy, you could have your site shut down.  Wait, what?  Why are they censoring me?

They’re not.  They’re protecting their copyright and branding.

How far could this go?  Would I be able to go to another site and tell them that the webmaster is using my name against my wishes or posting a picture without my permission, and as such shut them down?

Regardless, some of the Internet’s biggest websites went black or posted information on how Americans can contact their local government representatives to have them shut this bill down.

So the legal tool the US Government was going to use to go after overseas pirates of illegal movie downloads is gone.  What are we to do?

Listen, I’m no legal beagle but I can tell you this.  The US Government doesn’t have legal clout for a crime that occurs in New Zealand.  But if SOPA passed, and let’s say there there was a website like MegaUpload with hosting and such in New Zealand, SOPA could easily shut that site down and arrest the site owners.

Now, without SOPA, that can never happen.



Sadness:  I have none.  I know, right?

In what is on the same level as the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series, Herman Cain tossing his hat back in the Republican primaries, and Paris Hilton becoming relevant without spreading her legs, the impossible has happened.

John F’n Ale has actually had a decent winter.

I won’t lie to you, it hasn’t been easy, but I’ve made some personal sacrifices.

I’m the first to tell you I’m an emotional wreck, but one of the first things I cut out are the negative people.  I have enough time managing my own mental state, thanks.

I cut out people that thought they were more important than my son.  It’s a surprise, I know, but some people actually got upset because they needed to talk and I told them I had my son.  One person told me to go fuck myself.  Yeah… peace!

Remember me?  Oh, you didn’t, did you?  That’s okay.  You’re gone, too.  I have so many other things to do than to wait for someone’s promised call that will never happen.

Without them bringing me down, I was able to focus on other things.  I’m pretty sure I’ve written about how I’m working as a ring announcer for a local wrestling company.  The Radio X show is back on a regular schedule, and I am trying to involve myself in a couple of other projects, as well.

And then there’s Teh Job.  A year in the department I’ve been in and the challenges keep on piling up – and I like it!  I look back at what I did a year earlier there, and I don’t know if I could go back to that, which is ironic since it was how well I did in that job that got me to where I am today.

All in all, looking back at all the things that happened this year, I can actually look back at 2011 and say this was a good year.

Onward and upward, 2012!


How long has it been now since the first “Occupy” protests have begun, six months? Seven?

The “99%” sitting on the doorsteps of the bankers, the Wall Streeters, the elite “1%” of the population making all the money. They cry poverty, whine about having nothing, about being unable to find work, all while swiping away on their iPads or tablets or smartphones on their Facebook and Twitter accounts, trying to get others to join their plight.

My first problem is that if you’re “that poor” you can’t afford an iAnything, so the “99%” can’t possibly represent true poverty. Unemployment is on-or-close-to 9%, so at best they represent the “9%”, and about 90% of the American population should be pissed they are being represented by a bunch of angry, hostile, lying fools trying to get a free handout.

Here’s another problem I have. The “American dream” is supposed to be a dream where if you work hard, you can do anything. Those trolls living in parks and trying to get their handouts… what exactly are they doing? Highlighting the fact that those Wall Streeters and bankers are successful in the dream they put out. Those heavy hitters put in 50 to 60 hours a week on a slow week, money drives them, and they are willing to work to succeed.

ATTENTION “99%” HOBOS! If you really want to protest someone, head to your local major sports arena and protest the NBA. Hop in your caravans and take a visit to Miami at the new ballpark for the Marlins. Sit outside of Scott Boras’ house. The people who you camp out in front of now are people that work for a living. Athletes get paid to play with a ball. Millions of dollars. To play a game.

Don’t get me wrong. I love sports and I love good competition, but if you want to protest about how bad things are, then protest the guys throwing around money like it’s candy.

Just a thought…