Well, you know, I’m pretty busy with all the stuff I’ve got on. You know, just, like, such a go-getter. Honestly, between Tiny Tower and Tiny Village and my new Hatchi, I don’t know where I find the time to do anything else!

Seriously though, not having a job or any commitments or really anything that requires me to think leaves me with a lot of time to, well, think. I guess I’m becoming a bit of an at-home philosopher, thinking deep thoughts without any education or research to back them up. “But that’s okay,” I say to myself, “all the original philosophers we still draw from today didn’t know any of the junk we know now. I’m literally as qualified as they are to think things.”

And that’s the story of how being unemployed put me on par with Plato.

In my ample free time, though, I do tend to take on what I’ve just dubbed “mind-projects”, that usually just involve holding something in my mind for a long period of time and coming back to think about it frequently and/or applying new knowledge to it, or old knowledge that I’d never considered related before.

That was pretty rambly, but it’s a good way to think of things in new and different ways. Anyway, I hope you followed, I’m not very good at explaining ideas that have thus far only existed in my mind.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about freedom. Freedom of choice, freedom from slavery, freedom to do whatever comes naturally. And I realised that, despite what people might think, there is very little freedom in today’s world. I only have my own world-view to draw on, here. I’m not going to pretend I know what it’s like being a man, woman or child in a third world country, for example. It seems to me though, that there are a lot of restrictions on a society that claims to believe in freedom.

Of course, it goes without saying that some, even a lot of these restrictions are in place for a good reason. Things like, I dunno, laws. Laws are primarily in place to protect you or someone like you, so you learn to respect those.

Now, call me a hippie-communist if you will, but I think the daily grind, the 9-5 attitude is one of the biggest restrictions. It’s hugely necessary in a capitalist world, so don’t think I’m putting any of you down. I guess I’ve just been given a new perspective on the whole thing since Tim and I went through a, thankfully temporary, bout of being cripplingly poor.

It comes down to money, like it always does. In a capitalist society you need money to live. Live in the sense of surviving and in the sense of thriving. So you work to get money. Someone, somewhere decided that it was normal to work during the day. I guess that makes sense. So to function in the world, you get a 9-5. Now, theoretically that 9-5 is less than a third of your week. In a 24-hour cycle, 8 hours working, 8 hours sleeping, you still have 8 hours to play with, right?

Well, no. Not really. Once to take into account the commute to and from work, preparing meals for you and/or your family, hygiene and maintenence, not to mention the half-hour to an hour of exercise they want you to get everyday, you’re looking at more like 4 hours. That’s your recreational time cut in HALF. But they’re all things you need to do.

So finally you sit down in front of the telly with your other half, dog or cat happily snoozing on your feet thinking, “Man, life can’t get much better than this!” Until you fall asleep, because you’re fucking exhausted from all the other shit you need to do.

But it goes even further than that! It’s not even just about the money. Sure, it’s a large part of it. But as someone who is living in a house with my husband who is working full-time while I am not, let me tell you, there is a huge societal pressure to get back to work.

As we’ve become poorer and I’ve become more and more aware of the fact that I’m not working, it’s become clearer to me just how much the world judges you by what you do. Particularly around Christmas time, when there are a lot of parties and a lot of people you don’t know, I would have literally nothing to break the ice with, because I don’t have a job. Or worse, I would become some sort of freak-show, because I wasn’t working. “Oh, you don’t work? Oh. Weird. Why’s that?” Then I have to explain the whole long story about why I’m not working, a lot of which is pretty personal, and I don’t want to have to explain to strangers.

It occurred to me the other day how weird it is that, not that long ago, not only would it have been acceptable for a woman not to be working, but expected. Now, feminism has flipped on it’s head, and I’m still not accorded a choice, it’s expected that a woman will work as long and hard as her husband. That’s okay! That’s totally valid. Don’t get me wrong, woo feminism.

I just feel like, without a job, I don’t have an identity. So there’s the instinctive pressure to join a society of people where we’re all working toward the same or similar goals, we all think the boss is a tool or the clients are jerks.

So we’ve lost the freedom to make THAT choice.

I guess all these thoughts of freedom have to do with a new D&D campaign I’ve been running. It’s sort of an open world type thing, so I’ve been trying to let my players do literally whatever they want. I’ve also been doing a lot of reading about the world they’re playing in, and the book will talk about a particular race’s “fierce and individualistic nature and their desire to forge their own path in the world.”

I read that and I think absently to myself, “Man, I wish I could do that.”

“… … …Wait a second. Why can’t I?” And then I stare into space for a minute thinking of all the restrictions.

Since we got back from the UK, I feel I’ve been bitten by the travel bug. I see the world around me and think, “I know these roads. I’ve been here before. I want to be somewhere new.”

But there are so many obstacles. Financial. Emotional. Psychological, not least.

I don’t know what I want to do with my life. But I know I want it to be with Tim, and I know that I want it to be everywhere. But at the moment, I can’t even get out of the house. I don’t have the freedom to go to the Galleria and see a movie if the whim strikes me, because I don’t have a car to drive there, and I don’t have the money to pay for it even if I did. Sure, Tim could drive me, and he could pay for everything. But what if he’s busy? Sick? Doesn’t want to go? I don’t have the ability to make that choice if I want to.

So I stay at home and play videogames all day. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good life. But it’s not what I want.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is probably why I’m depressed and anxious. And you know, it just spirals from there. Why don’t I do something about these things? Well, there are more obstacles aren’t there, more financial and psychological ones. Why don’t you do something about those? Well, I’m trying, but you try climbing a mountain without any gear.

Yep, I didn’t mean this to turn into a rant about me. Just kind of ended up that way. And now I’m going to stop, before I depress myself out of doing anything today! At least I’m self-aware enough to know when enough is enough.

It’s a hot evening, approximately the 23rd of February, and I am coming down with flu-like symptoms. I have been annoying myself by not writing anything like I said I would, so I decided that I would jot down some stuff in the order that it came to my flu-riddled skull.

Skull is a great word. It has a ‘k’ in it where you would suppose there should be a ‘c’. I should look up the origins of that word. The etymology? I can’t remember, I always get that word wrong, and bug- and word-nerds are just such different crowds that I always come off looking like an idiot. Then I get nervous about the whole situation and over-think it, then avoid the word entirely.

See, anyone I’ve ever given shit about getting a word wrong, know that I give myself exactly as much shit internally, and possibly even more.

So I’m sick. I know exactly where it came from. Sarah and Liz were here over the weekend, you see, and they came off the plane coughing and spluttering. Just another thing I hate about flying, the air gets all recycled and then it’s everybody’s cold. So Sarah and Liz were getting pretty sick by the time they left, just in time to give it to me. I think, though, that I have it worse, which is pretty usual for my immune system, or they are much better at putting up with these things than I am (also true) because I feel like DEATH. It’s a full on flu too, none of this cold bullshit. I got the aching muscles and fevers and all that jazz. I even have this cool nausea which doesn’t seem to be interested in leaving, but that’s okay, ’cause I’m dieting anyway.

I think my stomach has caught up with the fact that I was to lose weight and has been reading too many teen magazines. Bullemia is not healthy, guys.

So Sarah and Liz were here, and that’s how I got sick. But I wouldn’t change it for the world, I love those girls. They could give me leprosy and I’d still have ‘em around. ‘Specially ’cause there’s a cure for that now.

We had an exciting mix of work and play and work that was fun. They helped us so much in the construction of the wedding invitations you’ll all be getting soon, and we got so much wedding shite done, it was amazing. I need those two around all the time, to make me laugh, to understand me, and to push me (down stairs) when I need it. They rule, and I can’t wait to be back with them all the time.

We had a great night of drunken fun too, which I haven’t really had the guts or the opportunity to do since… uh… New Years 2009/10? So more than a year. It felt so good too, I felt like I really didn’t need to worry about being judged or misinterpreted, I could just relax and have fun with my sisters. And my bros, but they weren’t drinking. Boring!

And you know what they say. Hoes before bros.

Oh man, speaking of bridesmaids, Simon and Jane are in New Zealand at the moment. Yes, the same New Zealand that just had that horrible quake. Apparently they are unharmed, though, which is super good to hear.

I’ve been reading about UFOs lately. No, no, hear me out. I’ve been reading this list of a bunch of 12 government documents that take UFOs seriously. They’re quite interesting. And sort of damning. There are just so many records of seriously high up people discussing this shit for reals. Now I don’t get that, see. ‘Cause like, if there are aliens, right, following me, if there are aliens, and they have successfully made contact, why is it almost entirely with Americans? They sure didn’t scan the planet for highest average IQ. (Ooooooh, burrrrn.) And if it’s NOT only with Americans, why is it that all the government bodies of the world have sworn this, like, oath, to not talk about it. You’d think if someone in say, the Middle East, someone not so friendly with the US, had made contact with aliens, they’d be all “Check this shit out, world, America’s been hiding this from you since the 50s! LOL :)” That would sure fuck a lotta people up, that I’m sure other countries could take advantage of.

Also, if contact has been made with aliens, why is it being kept a secret at all? UFO culture obviously has a bit of a stigma attached, but that’s mostly from 60 years of people not taking it seriously. If it was talked about upfront from the beginning, or even like 10 years later once we’d had a little more time to think about it, it could’ve been taken much more seriously. Of course, this is all hypothetical. I don’t realy believe in aliens. Or rather, I do, but am of the school of thought that we will miss them by billions of years and space-kilometres, so it doesn’t really matter.

But still. Aliens, huh! They’re an interesting thought exercise.

I hate the term thought exercise. Tim fucking loves it, but I just think it sounds so wanky. Wanky to the point of preposterity. But it’s still a valid concept, so I have to live with it.

I’m pretty much made of inconsistency. On one hand I’ll write about the virtues of words and the correct spelling thereof. Then I’ll wank on about aliens for a bit. Later on I might have a bit of an existential crisis, before hitting up some of my favourite baby animal websites and shrieking for a bit.

I was struck again today about the ridiculousness of TV. I was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at this enormous wall of light and sound, and like, some channels are playing M*A*S*H and Happy Days and some are just 24 hour reruns of the same 5 images from New Zealand, cut between ads for Red Rooster and life insurance.

Don’t get me wrong, what has happened in New Zealand is a tragedy, and the more people that can help, the better, and many lives will be affected by this for years to come. But seriously, I don’t think anyone is being helped by being shown the same images of seriously injured people and people running to the rescue of those unfortunates still trapped. I don’t think there’s anyone, at least no-one who watches daytime TV, that hasn’t heard about it. I’m just saying, stop putting these poor people’s misery on display, go pick up a shovel or something and help out. It doesn’t need to be on multiple channels for hours on end, no new information is forthcoming, just give people a minutes privacy to try and pick up the pieces.

Then I flip to the Fonz giving advice on the ladies, and I just rage quit from the ridiculousness.

Ecccchhh, I feel siiiick. I’m going to beeeeeedddd.

Unfortunately, this is incorrect. What we have here is a classic case of very popular internet forum mindset – specifically, confusing the right to free speech with the right to act like a toolbag.

It’s trolling.

I’m serious – what else can you call it when a bunch of non-Muslims who live comfortable Western lives, and whose freedom of speech is not threatened in any way, deliberately and enthusiastically engage in an activity that they know will be offensive to others? Offensive to people who have never personally done anything to offend them?

It’s trolling of the highest order; textbook in execution, industrial in scale, and dripping with extra lashings of the misguided self-righteousness that only the greatest breed of troll – the unwitting – can summon.

Is it that simple? Yes, it is. But let’s examine it in more detail.

Draw Muhammed Day has its roots in the Jyllands-Posten controversy of September 2005, during which the Danish newspaper of the same name printed twelve images of the prophet Muhammad. Some of these were deliberately offensive, depicting Muhammad as a terrorist and oppressor of women, and some were completely irrelevant. Needless to say a lot of Muslims found this offensive – as the newspaper knew and intended that they would – and a lot of protests followed. Some of these protests were completely outrageous, violent and disproportionate, which made it even easier for the “supporters of free speech” to convince themselves that they were doing the right thing and Muslims just “couldn’t take a joke”.

Then nothing much happened for a while, until April this year when South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone received death threats through the Internet after they aired an episode depicting the prophet Muhammad in a bear suit. Complaints were submitted to Comedy Central and they pulled the episode from air.

Bad idea, Comedy Central. You upset the Internet.

Cartoonist Molly Norris created this cartoon espousing a “Draw Mohammad Day” as a joke and it caught on like wildfire, specifically across social networking sites like Facebook and Youtube. Norris was horrified the overtly racist overtones the “event” was quickly taking and immediately distanced herself from it, even going so far as to publicly condemn it, but it was too late. The Internet was angry, and there’s nobody who can take up a self-righteous cause and convince themselves that they’re making a difference like an anonymous man behind a computer screen.

So thousands and thousands of drawings began to flood in on May 20, the official “Everybody Draw Mohammad Day”. Some of them trying to be respectful. Some of them trying to be funny. Many, many of them trying and succeeding to be horrifically racist.

All of them offensive.

Doing something that you know will deliberately offend somebody else deeply proves nothing about free speech. If I went up to a man on the street and explained in great detail about how much of a syphilitic whore his wife was, I should expect that he should get angry about it. If I stroll through a funeral parlour during a moving service, farting wildly and shouting about how the deceased enjoyed carnal relations with donkeys, I should expect that those people at the service would get angry about it. And if I tried to say, as they advanced upon me with murderous rage, that I was just exercising my right to free speech and they should all get over it, I highly doubt that would carry any weight at all. They would be finding small pieces of my body clogging nearby drains.

Yet apparently, knowing that Muslims believe visual depictions of the prophet Muhammad to be deeply blasphemous and then doing it anyway, it is okay to act surprised and say “Woah Muslims, get over it, free speech lol”.

Having the right to free speech also comes with the responsibility of knowing when to exercise it meaningfully and respectfully. Yes, I have the right to put pen to paper and draw the prophet Muhammad. But I have the responsibility to realise the effect my actions will have on others who share this society with me, and I choose not to exercise that right. I’m willing to put money down, that nobody who took part in Draw Muhammad Day has a single Muslim friend in real life. It’s easy to deliberately upset people on the Internet, but it’s not so easy to have to look your friend in the eye the next time you meet, knowing that you’ve deeply offended them and their beliefs.

The only thing that Draw Muhammad Day has conclusively proved is that some people don’t deserve the right to free speech. And that it’s easy to drape yourself in moral righteousness and confrontational attitudes from behind the safety of a computer screen. I should know.

I’m not trying to upset anybody who took part in or supported Draw Muhammad Day. I’m just exercising my right to respectful and well-meaning free speech.

Oh, and before anybody jumps in with the well-worn line about “But we show pictures of Jesus all the time and Christians don’t get angry!”, stop for a moment and consider that it’s not actually blasphemous to depict Jesus under the tenets of the Christian religion. In fact it’s encouraged.

That said, I’d be interested to see how any Christians who took part in Draw Muhammad Day would react, if there was a “Draw Jesus Fucking A Dog” day. Free speech indeed.