My Title, My Color

First of all, I would like to say that the URL of my blog has ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with anyone or anybody other than politics and my favorite empire.

I chose the name "rhedprince" because I am extremely fascinated by the Napoleonic Era specifically the "red coats" of the British Army. If you are wondering why I didn't spell it as "redprince", this is because some asshole beat me to it.

Why did some jackass have to pick the prestigious URL "redcoat" if they were only going to use it for a test? WHY?!

*sob*

During School Hours...but not all the time though

Let's make this clear right now, and when I say clear what I mean is that as of this moment you should imagine the words I am about to say as being sketched on a scroll in a holy Bible font and treated as such, you should memorize them and be able to recite them at will, that will of course being my own, and if any of you have any difficulty with the big words or complicated ideas take it up with my assistant, Mr. I Don't Give A Damn, Look It Up.

So listen carefully, you bunch of glorified seamstresses. When I call you for something, you come, when I don’t need you any more, you leave. What you don't do in between is tell me about your lives. The obvious reason for this is of course that I don't give a rat's ass, or in fact the ass of any animal in the entire history of evolution, from the prehistoric amoeba's tiny one-celled rear end to the modern woman's natural yet more significant assets. Hell, I don't care if you're doing it in the school, as long as you still come when I whistle, and if anyone tries to turn that into a pun they will regret it. I don’t care if you go around calling each other McYummy or McPumpkin or McHonest-to-god, if-this-goes-on-longer-I'll-puke. Although, small tip, it would probably be more professional to be discreet with your torrid affairs and love-lives, like normal people do – watch some TV, that'll teach you how to do it.

The point I am trying to stress, and if it isn't pa-a-ainfully obvious by now somebody get me a jackhammer and I will make it painful, is that I. Don't. Care. You're like Rhode Island, tiny and insignificant, and I'm like Antarctica, big and cold and a lot better to deal with when you're drunk, and in between us is the vast and unsurpassable ocean of NOT CARING. Nu-uh. None. Zilch. And I will make this vow, with the same gravity as I made my vow of never falling love, I make this vow: the next time someone asks me for romantic advice of any sort I will mail them to a one-way trip to hell.

Now… hwaaas that clear?

NOTE:
I only mean this half of the time since I'm not always on pills

A Nice Poem by Kaisyn Kuliev

I shouted after fast escaping time:
"Give me my early hopes back, they were mine!"
"What's happened to my best friends?" then I cried
"It's you who scattered them so far and wide!"

And to the ruthless years I called, despairing:
"Give back my youth to me, give back my daring!
"So that the mountains will not seem so steep,
"My voice won't drop, nought will disturb my slep."

No answer. Quickly flow the years away -
A mountain river that cannot be stayed.
Now winter's come. The snow-clad trees just creak
Despondently, but not a word they speak...

The Failure of Democracy

In a large ocean there are two neighboring islands: perfect democracies with full civil and political rights. The first island is extremely rich and prosperous, and has 10 million inhabitants. The second is extremely poor: it has 100 million inhabitants, who live by subsistence farming. After a bad harvest last year, there are no food stocks, and now the harvest has failed again: 90 million people are facing death by starvation. The democratically elected government of the poor island asks for help, and the democratically elected government of the rich island organizes a referendum on the issue.

There are three choices:
Option A is a sharp increase in taxes, to pay for large-scale permanent structural transfers to the poor island.
Option B is some increase in taxes, to pay for immediate and sufficient humanitarian aid, so that famine will be averted.
Option C is no extra taxes and no aid.

What if if, when the votes are counted, 100% of the voters have chosen Option C...

After all, who wants to pay more taxes?

So 90 million people starve. Yet all electoral procedures on both islands are free and fair, the media are free, political campaigning is free, there is no political repression of any kind. According to democratic theory, any outcome of this democratic process must be respected. Two perfect democracies have functioned perfectly: if you believe the supporters of democracy, that is morally admirable.

But it clearly is not: there is something fundamentally wrong with democracy, if it allows this outcome.

I myself often wonder why people view democracy as the greatest and only way to live under. It has been viewed as something sacred and is referred to as "the only choice" we have.

Some of the greatest statesmen the world has known do not completely agree with democracy, but I am not talking about the ambitious Emperors or the ruthless dictators, I'm talking about the statesmen we have admired and respected as political legends of our time.

"It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried."- Winston Churchill, Former British Prime Minister

Just because a country isn't a democracy doesn't mean it will fall into ruin. Cuba, a socialist state, has been subject to severe criticisms by the media. However, what they fail to realize, ever since they became a socialist state, their country has flourished and they have become know for producing a large number of doctors and nurses. Historically, Cuba has had some of the highest rates of education and literacy in Latin America, both before and after the revolution. The Cuban government operates a national health system and assumes full fiscal and administrative responsibility for the health care of its citizens. The country proves that democracy isn't the only way to go.

I am not totally against democracy. The democratic way of life has allowed many countries such as the United States, United Kingdom and Canada to flourish. I believe that democracy should not be destroyed...it should be reformed.

I find my thoughts distrubing...

I have found my actions in the past two years very disturbing. It seems that my adolescence period came to an abrupt halt as soon as I read two non-fiction books explaining the behind-the-scenes actions in international events. I find myself becoming more and more obsessed with politics as well as its darker side. Even my dreams are not safe from these disturbances. I once dreamt of helping *someone* become a person of power so I can use h** as a puppet to do my bidding as well as a scapegoat when things go wrong.

I am without a moral compass. I bet if you give me enough money, I could either kill for you or help you get a spouse.

Thankfully, there are still some who help retain my innocence...

but for how long?

Hitler is to Jews and I am to Emos

Somewhere in the country of Nigeria is a child who has lost his family to civil war, his home to militants, and any chance of a good and happy life to the crapper.

Somewhere in the jungles of South America is a child who has lost everything to the annual floods of the Amazonian rivers.

Somewhere in a suburban town in Pasig, is a child whose parents would not give him the extra money to buy an iPod, and so has dyed his hair red and black, wears pants tailored for young girls, and walks around proclaiming the darkness of life.

Which of these children has actual problems, and is not an attention-whoring spoiled brat who doesn't realize how good he has it?

If you answered "the child in Nigeria" or "the child in South America", you are correct.

If you answered "the child in Pasig", you are probably just like him, an "emo".

The word "emo" is derived from the word "emotional" or "emotive", which describes these kind of people.

Emos, usually the sons and daughters of well-to-do suburban parents, are the children and teenagers that usually make you want to damage your knuckles by delivering a well-placed punch to their lower and/or upper jaw.

Males, usually spotted in tight-fitting pants that would make any normal person have to take a shit every five minutes, as well as shirts depicting designs from the 1980's, and occasionally black-rimmed glasses, are known for being whiny, depressed, and just all-around little bitches that make other men thankful that the testosterone train did not pass them by. They also make doctors prescribe for them a pair of testicles.

Females, usually spotted in looser pants than the males, are less whiny, but do like to cry when faced with difficult situations. Other women see these girls and thank God that the testosterone train did not pass them by.

Emos are also usually seen wearing Converse All-Star shoes, and are frequently spotted in groups. These groups can usually be seen reciting poems about depression and how their lives are meaningless.

Not to be confused with goths (which are another group all together), emos are not bothered by sunlight, although their room are usually painted a dark tone.

The music that emos listen to are also filled with nothing but the voices of whiny, spoiled children, who never got that pony they wanted for Christmas.

One can usually tell if a person around them is emo if a bunch of whining is heard over a 72-hour period. This is usually followed by empty hair-care product boxes in the trash and the blaring of whiny music from nearby speakers.

Although not all emos are just whored out bastards. Sometimes, some of them can be coined as "genuine". Some of them have fucked up parents who beat them and shit. Emos are not all depressed, want to kill themselfs, smoke, cut, biosexual and do drugs. Some do but not all.

Forgive me if I'm stressing this too far but what bothers me most is that while two parties are arguing about sources of manpower, useless emos are lounging about like drunkards who learned how to write poetry. I just can't see why any unemployed emo over the age of 25 just can't be shot dead or sent to concentration camps to work for slave labor.

The Emo Phase is common among children and teens and are completely understandable...however, adult emos are better off in the music industry and not lurking in men's restrooms singing crappy songs.

NOTE:
Personally, I have nothing against emos. I believe THAT everyone is deserving of my sarcasm and discrimination.

Have a nice day!

One Life, One Room

Our terrible events don't make us who we are, yet they tend to be what people judge us on. Maybe we need meaning to turn them into something more than terrible events, but we are more than the sum of our tragedies. Some people go through terrible things and do just fine, some go through terrible things and their lives suck.

That's what life is. It's a series of rooms. And who we get stuck in those rooms with adds up to what our lives are.

In my case, I'm often stuck in a room with 30 other people...sadly, at least one of them won't be staying any longer...

I'm gonna base this moment on who I'm stuck in a room with

I don't have much more to say...

Well I've been here before
Sat on the floor in a grey grey room
Where I stay in all day
I don't eat, but I play with this grey grey food

Well I've been here before
Sat on a floor in a grey grey mood
Where I stay up all night
And all that I write is a grey grey tune

So pray for me child, just for a while
That I might break out yeah
Pray for me child
Even a smile would do for now

Have I still got you to be my open door
Have I still got you to be my sandy shore
Have I still got you to cross my bridge in this storm
Have I still got you to keep me warm

If I squeeze my grape and I drink my wine
Coz if I squeeze my grape and I drink my wine
Oh coz nothing is lost, it's just frozen in frost,
And it's opening time, there's no-one in line

But I've still got me to be your open door,
I've still got me to be your sandy shore
I've still got me to cross your bridge in this storm
And I've still got me to keep you warm

PS = TV does teach you something