The Constitution Doesn’t Protect You From Being a Fucking Idiot
You have the right to be an asshole. You have the right to question authority, record the police, and challenge government overreach. But somewhere along the way, people started confusing constitutional liberty with a license to act like complete fucking idiots. Now every traffic stop is a potential viral video, every consequence is somebody else's fault, and everybody's threatening to sue. The Constitution protects your freedom. It doesn't absolve you of personal responsibility.
When Did Liberty Become a Handout?
We went from demanding liberty to demanding that government take care of us. Somewhere along the way, Americans stopped asking whether government had the right to control our lives and started arguing over which political party should hold the leash. I don't want a better king, a kinder king, or a king who promises me free shit while building a bigger cage. I want my fucking liberty back.
The Political Machine Is Working Exactly as Fucking Intended
It's midterm election season, and the political bullshit is flowing freely. Everybody's screaming, everybody's an expert, and everybody's convinced their preferred political party is going to save the fucking country. Meanwhile, we're fighting over ICE, immigration, and whatever outrage dominates the news cycle while the government keeps taking our money and chipping away at our liberties. The political machine is working exactly as intended, and we're the idiots keeping it running.
Everybody’s Got an Opinion. Yet, Nobody Knows a Fucking Thing
Everybody has an opinion about politics, immigration, the economy, and people they've never bothered to get to know. But somewhere along the way, we started confusing opinions with actual knowledge. From a frustrating conversation with my father to someone questioning my engagement to Dawna, I've had about enough of people who would rather judge, label, and repeat whatever bullshit they've been fed than think for themselves.
When Fiction Gets Too Fucking Real
I started revising a story in Undertow because I'd written something that was a little too close to reality and not nearly fictional enough. So I decided to explore what could have happened instead of what actually did. That led me down a rabbit hole researching what happens to transgender women in New Mexico's criminal justice system. And holy fucking hell. What started as an exercise in creative writing turned into something deeply personal, frightening, and infuriating. Sometimes fiction forces you to confront realities you'd rather not think about.
Luckily, I’m Not in Jail
All I wanted to do was get my wife's Dodge Challenger registered so she could leave on her road trip. Instead, I spent forty-five fucking minutes waiting for a bureaucrat to tell me one missing signature made the impossible impossible, drove across town to another MVD office that somehow figured it out, and then nearly got into a roadside fight with some douchebag in a white SUV who was riding my wife's ass. By the end of the day, Dawna was safely on the road, the car was legal, and I wasn't in handcuffs. I'm calling that a fucking win.
A Trail of Lipstick Smears and Corporate Mediocrity
Corporate America has a fucking problem. We've gotten remarkably good at promoting people who look successful without ever accomplishing a goddamned thing. A trail of lipstick smears and political connections has replaced competence, integrity, and accountability. Meanwhile, the people actually doing the work are left wondering how the fuck we're supposed to accomplish the mission. Is the workforce getting worse, or have I finally climbed high enough to see the corporate bullshit that's always been there?
The Fucking Public
Albuquerque has collected more than $11 million through automated speed enforcement, and now there's talk of letting cities keep an even bigger share. Meanwhile, the cameras keep multiplying. Government calls it public safety. I see an expanding surveillance system, an addiction to revenue, and another assault on individual liberty. Here's a fucking reminder: I am the public. You work for me. Not the other way around.
I Just Wanted to Know What the Fucking Camera Was
I just wanted to know what the fucking camera was. Instead, I found myself wandering through ordinances, policies, contracts, departments, and a municipal bureaucracy so complicated that understanding my own city government became a fucking research project. Government belongs to us. It shouldn't require a map through the labyrinth to figure out what the hell it's doing.
Twenty Fucking Feet
There was a trash can twenty fucking feet away. Instead, she left her cup, spilled drink, wrappers, and the remains of a jelly donut in the street for somebody else to clean up. It’s a tiny thing, until you realize how perfectly it represents the difference between liberty and entitlement.
The Procedural Fucking Dance
I spent hours watching people move through a courthouse where the enormous power of the state had somehow become routine. Dates were scheduled. Names were called. People were told when to come back. Everyone played their part. But somewhere underneath all that fucking procedure, I kept wondering what happened to justice.
Apparently My Fucking Motorcycle Owes Albuquerque Money
Albuquerque says speeding is dangerous enough to justify automated enforcement, but apparently not dangerous enough to actually stop the fucking vehicle. Instead, a camera takes a picture, you keep driving, and weeks later the registered owner gets a bill. Ignore it long enough and eventually a debt collector comes looking for the money. Sorry, but I don’t fucking buy the safety argument.
Who the Fuck Authorized This?
Cameras are going up everywhere, and nobody seems to be asking the most important fucking question: who authorized government to routinely watch free citizens suspected of absolutely nothing? Liberty isn't being watched more responsibly. Liberty is being left the fuck alone.
The Free Fucking Bacon Problem
Maybe the free fucking bacon isn't really about bacon. Maybe it's about entitlement, responsibility, and what happens when people become so accustomed to somebody else solving every inconvenience that carrying the weight of liberty starts feeling like too much fucking work.
What the Fuck Happened?
A brutal three-hundred-mile motorcycle ride across southeastern New Mexico somehow turned into Texas liquor laws, government-mandated technology, individual liberty, and my general irritation with being protected from myself. I’m not entirely sure how the fuck we got here either.
Florence Is Going to Be Fucking Fine
Arizona has decided lane splitting is reckless driving. I have a simpler question: who’s the fucking victim? A motorcycle doing something a Toyota can’t doesn’t make it reckless, and Florence being uncomfortable doesn’t make it a crime.
Liberty Is Dead
Liberty didn’t die in some spectacular coup. We surrendered it incrementally, one reasonable exception, one permit, one court decision, one camera, one sensor, and one fucking compromise at a time. Eventually, you look down and realize there’s almost nothing left in your hands.
The New Fucking Tea
Someone shot up Santa Fe’s shiny new automated enforcement cameras, and apparently an old friend’s first thought was to ask whether it was me. It wasn’t. But his question got me thinking about cameras, government power, consent of the governed, and what happens when “public property” stops feeling like it belongs to the fucking public.
Fifty-One Fucking Percent
The government can stop me, detain me, accuse me of wrongdoing, drag me into court, and seek money from me; and apparently “more likely than not” is enough. Maybe that’s legally sufficient. I’m increasingly unconvinced that legally sufficient and just are the same fucking thing.
Stand the Fuck By
I’m sitting at home instead of going to work because today I have to defend myself against an allegation made by the government. We’ve become so accustomed to traffic stops that we rarely stop to consider what they actually are: temporary government detention.