Weapons, not food, not homes, not shoes Not need, just feed the war cannibal animal I walk the corner to the rubble that used to be a library Line up to the mind cemetery now What we don't know keeps the contracts alive and movin' They don't gotta burn the books, they just remove 'em While arms warehouses fill as quick as the cells Rally 'round the family, pocket full of shells RATM – Bulls On Parade

what grotesque fools we are thinking that war is a game for children, and content to feed news channels.

On some, not many, car windshields and rear windows I saw in Jordan there was Saddam Hussein's effigy. What an image from the past. I remember the images of the U.S. troops during the operation Desert Shield, attacking with tracing rounds, which looked like green comets across the night sky as they were broadcast on TV. The late Iraqi president, at the time of the Gulf War, was politically close to King Hussein of Jordan.

Another war from the past. Another cause for more conflict and acrimony amongst nations and peoples. Decades later, just a faded image on a windshield.

Pay for premium features. Ad block on, ad block off. Create another account, subscribe to another (non)service. What a delight.

The promise is security. Endless verifications, codes, PINs, one-time passwords, device confirmations. A chain of steps that multiply every year.

Access depends on the right device, the right browser, the right confirmation sent to another device that may itself require another login.

We must constantly prove that we are ourselves. Our property is rarely under our control. Access can be revoked, to allow companies to protect themselves from risk and liability.

At what point does security stop protecting the user and start protecting the system from the user?

If access to our data, documents, and communications depends entirely on external platforms, what does ownership actually mean?

Control of one’s output determines artistic longevity. Is career a long arc or a series of brilliant explosions?