A friend sent me an email the other day. This, in and of itself, is not all that strange. I have many friends (thanks be to God and all that) and I get many emails (some of which actually ask for my advice, which is interesting) but this particular friend, I believe, has gone off the deep end.

He wrote me that he had been following a lot my writings lately and had paid particular attention to the ones surrounding a certain presidential candidate. He had also been paying attention to other interesting things in the world around us, and he stated that because I was “definitely coming around to the right way of thinking” that he would let me in on a little secret.

“The iPhone,” he wrote. “Has a device in it that allows the government to monitor all of its owners activity.”

I wrote him back and told him to get a job and smoke less dope.

His response: “Work is for chumps and family men.”

That kind of stung. I mean, I work.

I emailed him back and told him how I felt.

His response: “Dude, you wouldn't have to work if the government wasn't keeping you down.”

I entertained this notion for a little while because, quite frankly, life's a lot easier when you have someone to blame. After careful consideration though, I concluded that the government wasn't forcing me to spend $12,000 a year on booze, and that my monetary situation and need to work was most likely my fault. I emailed him that same sentiment.

His response: “The government wants you dependent on that stuff, dude. They do their best to make sure that you stay as drunk as you can possibly be.”

My response: “Well, where should I send my Thank You Note?”

He sent me the address of the Council on Foreign Affairs.

Now, maybe the government is buying my booze without me knowing it, and maybe they are slipping monitoring devices into the iPhone and maybe my buddy Phil really doesn't need to get a job, so long as he can keep living with his parents and keep selling junked auto parts for pot. Whatever. I don't have time to entertain such notions.

Because I have a job.

And maybe my employment makes me part of the corporate machine or what have you. I don't really care. Because at the end of the day I get my pay.

And anyway, I drink too much to afford an iPhone.