The Conspiracy Unfolds -Dimmu Borgir

If it's not one goddamn thing, it's another.

This little gem of advice was passed down to me by my father many years ago. It is one of the only pieces of touching fatherly advice he gave me, other than a birds-and-bees talk that consisted of him tossing me a box of Trojans and saying "Know what these are for? Good. Use them." (The box of Trojans was already half empty.)

At the time I thought "If it's not one goddamn thing, it's another" was just my father being grumpy and paranoid. Little did I know, that to this day I have never found a more true and concise phrase. It's become a mantra really. A spirit guide to show me the path in all life's situations, big or small.

And this very day I discovered that even in China my father was right; everyone is out to get me.

The powers that be set this insidious plan in motion over a year ago. So subtle were the movements of the cogs in their secret machine I had no idea until today I was being played with. I received a new bank card in the mail even though mine had not yet expired. My bank had decided to switch their partnership with Visa to MasterCard for what seemed no reason at all.

Oh, but it's all so clear now in retrospect.

All my life I've wanted to go to the Olympics. Granted; when I was a lad I thought I would be competing in lacrosse. (Never mind that it's not an Olympic sport. I figured the rest of the world would figure out what they were missing out on and the IOC would sanction Olympics lacrosse by the time I was old enough. It made sense at the time.) But as I got older and realized that unless I had some undiscovered talent lying latent within me, I was going to have to go to the Olympics as a spectator.

Then in 1996 the Games finally came to the U.S. Atlanta was not exactly next door to San Francisco, but it was closer than Barcelona. I figured this would be the closest I would ever get but at that time I was in college and tickets were just not fiscally possible. I could barely afford my twice-daily Top Ramen.

Then in 2002 about one month before the games began, NBC decided to sell their local affiliation to a station in San Jose. Another seemingly innocent enough move. But then I realized what They were doing. Once NBC moved their transmitters to San Jose, I could no longer get their signal. NBC owns the "exclusive broadcasting rights" for the Olympic Games. Again, with my paltry earnings, I could not afford the cable hookup that would enable me to watch.

So when I heard that I would be in Beijing during the summer Olympics, I this would be it. "I'm going to be in China about one mile from the stadium," I thought. "Tickets are hard to get, but my wife works at the all powerful Google. Surely they will have a hook up," I said. My first shock came when we arrived and I find out that Google doesn't quite swing the same clout they do in the States. In fact practically no one has even heard of them.

But wait... What's this? There is an Olympic Ticket office that still has some tickets to scattered events, AND these tickets are reserved for foreigners! I can Buy them online? My ship has finally come in! Not only am I in the right place at the right time, but I now actually have the funds available to me to buy tickets...

But today They unveiled their endgame: The website only accepts Visa cards.

"No problem." I thought. I'll just go down to the ticket office and buy them with cash. I headed down there with a wallet full of this Monopoly money they call cash here. Oh, but there is no joy in Mudville today... Visa is the "Official Sponsor" of the Beijing games. You could show up at the ticketing office with a backpack full of gold bullion, they ONLY take Visa cards.

So I schlepped my mopey, sweaty ass back home and watched some more Olympic coverage. "At least it's not NBC," I thought to myself. Then I remembered they don't have any coverage in English here.

I would be angrier if not for my father's prophetic words ringing in my ears.