Dancing with the Devil
I hate Pay-Pal.
Having seen people I care about raked over the coals and literally robbed of their money by the filthy scumbags running that operation, there is no way to say anything too evil about them. Worst of all, they are so damnably unaccountable. You can’t touch them.
Nor can you touch the US government. I can’t get away from that agency, either. The government is the government, and everybody on the Net pretty much uses Pay-Pal. There’s not much choice, particularly on the path I’ve chosen. It’s a cross I must bear to remain someone my government prefers to ignore, and to open a Pay-Pal account.
It’s really not about the money with me. It’s what it symbolizes. People have asked me to get an account so they can donate. It’s also the only sane way to deal with Smashwords and I find it compelling to offer at least one more book, this time for a price. Money, in whatever form, is simply a tool for getting things done, and I certainly don’t expect much of it or from it.
It’s not as if Satan and his demons can’t hurt me; they aren’t permitted very much hurt against me. I don’t dance to his tune, but I will dance around him when the mission requires passing closer than I like.