Heh. I come back from work and see a dozen angry messages from Fred on my home machine because of the last rant, followed by a "Oh, you were quoting Kurtz, not insulting him."

I'm a simple man, really. I get angry for very short periods of time, I get frustrated for longer periods of time, but when you get down to it, I'm a mellow guy. That manic little ball of rage you see on stage during anime/comic book conventions? Yeah, I guess he's me too, but not in any prolonged manner. But when I'm angry at someone, I come out and say it. And I don't get mad at people over the 'Net. It's a waste of energy. So just remember--unless I start a rant by saying I'm pissed and want to set people on fire, I'm most likely sitting at my keyboard, drinking a soda and either catching up on some reading, or avoiding work.

Anyway, since I've been censored, I figure I should celebrate it somehow. It's been a while since anything I said was pulled back, and in true journalistic style, I guess I should complain about it bitterly whilst... uh... I dunno, really, I'm new to the whole writing gig. Should I make endless posts about the iniquity of my situation, as a poor oppressed writer who can't earn his wage without being oppressed? And that all should witness the violence inherent in the system, until justice is served on my terms?

Should I drink absinthe and give up on life (I think drinking absinthe and giving up on life are equivalent, but what do I know?), devoting my meaningless, silenced existence to writing bad poetry and trying to get laid?

Should I rail against the man, camping out in Ann Arbor and fighting the power until Fred gets tired of me stinking up his doorstep and gives in to whatever it was we were talking about?

Or should I realize that all of those things require effort, sit back and play video games?

I think you'll know what choice I'm going with.