Poor Sportsmanship?

I was thinking this morning about my childhood and how my talent was overlooked by my parents and siblings. Their dismissals led me to think that my gifts were ordinary, which is why I initially felt no need to conceal them from the world. And then look what happened. And does anyone fault me for not concealing my abilities better? Since then, what have I got for sharing my work on the web? Look through my statements and see for yourself. The most recent thing I can think of is being compared to OJ Simpson by a cashier at the Crosstown Liquor Store - on Abbott Street next to the 7/11 - where her workmate likes to cheer for Nickleback in my presence. That's what I got for authoring and sharing songs like Fool's Paradise and Nonchalant. But what did Nickleback get for stealing them from me? And does Nickleback also draw their own comic strip? If they did, I wonder if they would have to hear a put-down from the classroom clods such as the ones who thought my Walter the Street Squirrel/Episode 6/Altered Fates was disturbing. Who stole it when I first shared it in 2007 and what did they get for it? Back in 2010, after enduring three years of the most brutal hate since the Holocaust, I rewrote and shared my song Size. Not only was I screamed at to take it down, the authorities paid me a visit and almost threw me in jail for it. What did the Crystalids get for stealing it? And what did they get for all the other dozens of songs they stole from me? And what year is it now? Oh, yeah, 2017. My parents and siblings can be excused for overlooking my talent. A normal family doesn't see anything extraordinary about any of its members. Commercial broadcasters, however, knew that my impact on the web was phenomenal from the very outset, and instead of helping me, they have dedicated themselves to my destruction, all the way to the present. These people hate my artistic guts. Who gave them their influential jobs, so that they could get the whole population to reject an artist, no matter how much his work is loved? My guess is that it is the king of talent haters. The kind of brutality I see being directed against artists in our society tells me that the person on top of it all hates artists with a passion. Could it be someone who is rich and disagrees with God's inequality? Could it be a rich person who believes it unjust for a poor man to have more talent than he does? If so, this person might be a rich investor, but he is a very poor sport. 10:45am: This policy of officially rejecting popular artists causes a most troublesome reality gap for some people. Leading up to the ridiculous stunt pulled by rogue 'crew' members, some of whom apparently live as my neighbors here, I started listening to my recordings out loud in my room for a week or so. (I've capitalized the titles of my most listened to songs in my lyrics index.) This crew's fondest memories are all wrapped up in parties with the stars who stole my songs and blogs, and now, like their overseers in the corporate media, they cannot face the reality of my ownership. When I want to enjoy my recordings out loud, it makes them groan in pain and want to stick their heads in the sand to avoid the terrible reality of my talent, which may have driven them to such a desperate, transparent image assault outside my front door as what had my other neighbors again wrongly thinking I'd been thrown in jail for a short time. So now I've returned to listening to my songs with headphones. Most people out there like my recordings. They enjoyed my work from the beginning, or these fraud stars wouldn't have needed to steal it all. To attack me with copyright violations and character assassinations is to attack everyone who enjoys my work. Who's calling me a twit today? Can someone check my Twitocracy script and see if it has been illegally copied and pasted elsewhere? I have new comedy scripts which are much funnier than anything in We're All Dying, as well as very promising new recordings, but 'my' enemies don't want you to enjoy them. They force me to keep my new inspirations to myself and to avoid developing them until I can get a credit card. 1:45pm: Freed convicts of Vancouver, you won't get me to make the world hear your vicious voice by what you try to push past my earplugs when you pass me in the street anymore. There should be a restraining order against you prohibiting you from being within half a mile of me. You take your remarks directly to the public like I do and see how far your popularity takes you. Good luck. 2:55pm: As I typed in the preceding paragraph, it looked like I was surrounded by ex Nasco workers. I'm glad to have finally quit smoking and started to really save my money because I never meet anyone helpful here. Instead I am surrounded by crew people of the type I describe in my Tunesmith poem. They're the kind of people who might owe Nickleback a favor or something. They end up living in the house next door or in the room down the hall. They get jobs serving meals in the soup lines or as cashiers in the stores. They surround me when I'm in the library, where I can smell the stench of the things they are posting against me online. They stand in front of me in the soup line and call me names. They greet me with put-downs as they pass me in the street. They get together to stage image assaults at my front door while I lay unconscious in my bed. They seem to be everywhere here but in jail where they belong. And look at the twenty-year-long trail of fraud with my works that marks their legacy. When I was in the hostel in Ottawa in 2013, I looked out my dorm window on my second night and saw cops beating the shit out of these kinds of degenerates in the street. As for the efforts of the Vancouver Police, they seem more likely to inspire my next cartoon, which will probably be twice as popular as their TV show. How else will I able to prove I draw my own cartoons here? And just in case you missed my last amendment to yesterday's post, here it is again. I think it states my point rather well: 8:20pm: (July 7, 2017) Crazy or not, I'd be in prison if I were lying about my copyright ownership of my work; I'd be in prison and this whole account would be erased. Instead, what shows and stars have disappeared from the TV and radio since I shared my claims online? What happened to the hit songs on the radio that I said I wrote? What happened to all the repeat TV broadcasts which resembled my content? And what would a bunch of treacherous, fraud supporting broadcasters tell you now to save their skins? Perhaps you already know. Anyway, I'm sure I won't be flipping out in my room anymore, as long as I abandon my career designs to devote myself entirely to defending myself from violations of my work and image on the internet. And don't bother to try to shame me for not having a girlfriend because I'm fifty-one years old and no longer ruled by my hormones. Besides, I think single people are more interesting than couples. Couples talk about their partners too much.
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