Silly Steve

Once upon a time there was this idealistic guy named Steve. Steve was a guy who had this crazy notion that people should inherently trust each other; that how people acted was more important than how well they filled out paperwork or passed tests. He actually believed that a person who demonstrated skill with something should be allowed to do that something without question, and not have to get permission from random folk who actually have no clue who Steve is.

Silly Steve.

So when exactly does a privilege become no longer worth the privilege? How many goats does one need to sacrifice; how many pints of ones own blood must one offer to the demons before the privilege is no longer worth it?

I am once again girding for battle with the evil beasts of the Arizona Motor Vehicle Department. So far they have defeated me at every turn. I am starting to wonder if the fight is actually worth it. An endless battle to simply get a little piece of plastic that says I have “permission” to do something that I am not only perfectly capable of doing, but do better than many. And why do I have this never-ending battle? Because I dared to celebrate a holiday one year.

Silly Steve.

I have to fight tooth and nail for a so-called privilege. Yet it is a privilege That I am told that I MUST have. I don’t even like driving. Yet I MUST have a driver’s license. So despite my instincts, I have given into the whisper’s of the multitude, dropped my pants and said have at it.

And the bloody idiots still make it difficult! Seems that they are so lost in their own red tape that they can’t even bugger a guy who is bent over and has his pants dropped!

I bow my head in awe to the wonderful masters of confusion that have made it so incredibly impossible to even do what they actually are asking me to do!

Long live the Bureaucracy! We would have a serious lack of things to laugh at without em!

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