Economics

You can't blame capitalists for wanting to maximize profits anymore than you can blame tigers for not being vegetarians. You can't blame the government for not keeping the tigers in their cages because the 99% elect the government. You can't blame the 99% for hiring bad zookeepers because the 99% are mostly concerned with everything except politics, unless there's a crises. You can't even blame them for not caring because that's not what people do. People look after their family and friends, try to make as much money as they can, and go bowling on Tuesday nights. If they don't, then they're busy trying to secure their next meal and rent check. Capitalism doesn't work, but neither does any other system. Boom, Bubble, and Bust are axiomatic to Capitalism, much the same way tight uniformity or poverty is axiomatic to Socialism, and totalitarianism is to a truly planned economy. Unless you expect EVERYONE on Earth to give a damn about everyone else, no system can work, and never will. Start morality in your homes, and then maybe over a billion years we'll achieve some sort of parity.
As an aside, the standard of living for even the poorest is higher now than at any point in human history, and this is the only point in human history that the poor actually have a voice. We may not be perfect, but we're a damn sight closer than we ever have been before.
I am not cheerful tonight

Quiet

I am not sure I've said ... words in the past hour or two. I apparently have no one to talk to at the moment. I can't write, I can't work, I can't even enjoy stupid internet shit. I'm still in a pretty deep funk, and have been since approximately... Tuesday. Tuesday? Damn, that's a record since January of last year. Maybe it's to do with winter? Seasonal depression is a real thing! According to science. (Interesting finding; when someone is using the microwave in the Honor's Lounge, it kills my WiFi, which makes me want to kill the microwave. And I get to smell Mr. Fat-Bald-Man-With-A-Mustache's Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pocket™ ; is there no end to the joys of today?) Ugh, this is the kinda crap I should keep in a journal. Why not? I don't know, but I never really can keep a journal. I'll start for a while, but it'll just peter out. My best streak was with one that started in November, and that one lasted well into the end of the year. I've got a tiny bit of extra cash at the moment, maybe I can get another one and a good pen. I loved getting my thoughts down, and more than that I loved looking back on them. It was a nice way to kill a few minutes without looking like an idiot. That's the new plan then. I have a speech meeting in half an hour at Griswold, I'm still hoping that no one will show up. I also have a meeting with Phil that, while I'm looking forward to getting paid, I am not looking forward to his endless stream of questions. Especially at ten o' clock at night. full disclosure, I rescheduled first, from Friday to this afternoon. But, in my defense, FUCK YOU PHIL I'M SPECIAL I DO WHAT I WANT. You do not have the same privileges. That's an oddly spelled word. Oh great, Mr. Disgusting-Tomato-Sauce-Man going on another trip to the microwave. I will murder you with lightning. I just want to grab some food, go to my little hidey-hole, and watch How I Met Your Mother. And text. And watch porn. Is that so much to ask?! [EDIT] Mustache Man's burping is far, far too much to handle. Running away with my tail between my legs.

Time Machine

If I had a time machine- that could actually go to the past, not a wormhole driven one that can only go back to the first moment it had existed- I'd first use it to go back and fix certain things (in cascading order; that is, if the first thing doesn't work, on to the second):

• 5 year old KJ would have been off making friends and going to soccer practice
• 8 year old KJ would have learned an active interest in computers, and developed discipline with his computers. And soccer practice.
• 12 year old KJ wouldhave had some fucking friends. Good lord 7th grade was bad
• 13 year old KJ would have laughed when a certain Caitlyn Neiman asked him out by showing him her thong.
• 13 year old KJ would have broken the fuck up with her.
• 14 year old KJ would have been fucking happy to be out of that cluster fuck.
• 15 year old KJ would have tried harder to stay with Aimee, trusted her more and enjoyed her more
• 16 year old KJ would have gotten his fucking license ASAP
• 17 year old KJ would have actually done the job he was hired to do
• 17 year old KJ would not have quit his job
• 17 year old KJ would not have taken on another job he was not ready for
• 18 year old Kirk would be working instead of going to school

What The Fuck Is The Matter?

Because I have no fucking idea. I'm in an awful mood, you're in an awful mood or.... something? I don't know. Did what I say earlier this week piss you off or freak you out? Do you not want to talk to anyone, or just me? What the fuck is the matter? Some days its like nothing is wrong, and the next thing I know I'm drinking coffee-grounds-soup and being righteously pissed off. i am not in a good place at the moment, I'm angsty I'm sad and pissed and lonely, and I cannot for the life of me find a song that accurately reflects this; at least not one at a loud enough volume. (By loud enough volume, I mean I can literally and permanently damage everything about sense of hearing and quite possibly give myself brain damage that will haunt me long into my adult years) Brent James and the Contraband's "A Little Bit High" comes close. It's got the right words at least

You've been quiet and complicated lately
Been fallin' off the wagon and you can't save me
Make a beeline and pick your poison
And show a little love for the home town boys

I'm a little bit high but I'll come down
Workin' two jobs in this bullshit town
It ain't easy shakin' third shift off
I'm a little bit high, I'm fucking pissed off

Errgh. I am indeed fucking pissed off. A lot of doubts and insecurities at the moment. Girls, goals, grades. What do I want to do with my life? What do I want of the people in my life? What do they want of me? How do I get by with having two- or possible three- friends? Why won't one of them talk to me at the moment? I wish I had been a stereotypical dumb jock. I don't know any of them- I mean, I know people who almost fit the bill, and no one would blame me if I called them that, but let's be honest, if only because it's a novel experience- but from what I gather it would be great. Girls, a built in network of people forced to associate with you and share at least one interest, and everyone knows you're too dumb to plan out your own life so they do it for you. Very nice, I'll take two.

I'm Pissed Off

I'm a little bit high but I'll come down Workin' two jobs in this bullshit town It ain't easy shakin' third shit off I'm a little bit high I'm a little pissed off

For some reason I am fucking pissed off. I want to get drunk, I want to get in a fight and I really want to get in a drunken fight. But I'll settle for bad coffee and glaring at people. I'm eighteen, I'm allowed to be angsty as fuck, aren't I? Also, I fucking love swearing! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK