We are this close to the midterm elections and the goddamn GOP is about to close it hard on irrational fear.
Isis and Ebola.
How did we get here?
Completely random elaborately imagined clusterfucks that would not survive the advent of oxygen or sunlight if applied. I am sick to death of fear masquerading as politics.
The phenomena says two things about the American electorate. Neither one is pretty. The first reveals that by and large, most of us are dumb as fucking sticks. Exasperatingly gullible. The second one is not much better. It says that progressive, forward thinking people are still too goddamn lazy or passive to muster a counter offensive to such ridiculous bullshit.
It’s unbelievably absurd that this late in the game, republicans can so conveniently and confidently count on the stupid, that they can actually be an efficacious tipping point in these midterm elections. It’s unreal to me. I’ve seen it happen over and over in my lifetime and I still can’t believe it. Republicans call on the idiots and they show up in droves and democrats sit at home because they just aren’t quite afraid enough.
I am in awe.
The Orcs mass at the drawbridge while the democrats enjoy the first course of baby arugula with gorgonzola and candied almonds and a delightful raspberry vinaigrette. We hear there is some sort of garlic roasted chicken on the way.
We’re so arrogant and complacent, so self righteous and magnanimous to imagine that our celebration and luxury of the upper moral hand is a luxury that we have somehow earned and much, much worse, deserve.
The teabillies will not win this election, we will lose it.
If it goes badly this November, it won’t because they lied and thieved and stole every vote they could. It won’t be because they cheated an disenfranchised minority democrats and women. They can and will do all these things. They are doing all these things. They are enabled by the highest court in the land. It is absolutely rigged by ugly, shameless, racist justices. It’s awful and disgraceful and completely true. The hypocrisy of the highest court in the the land is invasive and cloying.
There remains no question that in this age of entertaining the notion of impeaching and prosecuting the president of the United States, that we should instead be legitimately evaluating the impeachment and prosecution of various members of the supreme court for reasons far more compelling and egregious.
Over half of the highest court in the land is occupied by bought and paid for by good old boys. They attend, speak and acquire remuneration from the filthiest of the filthy. They never even contemplate recusal. Profoundly corrupt as evidenced by their decisions as much as their abject failure to decide. I am so with the notorious RBG. She’s my heroine. Otherwise, they are a scorch as well as a scourge on democracy and perhaps the single best reason to get your ass to the booth.
Having said that, if we lose, it will be because not enough of us showed the fuck up.
If voting in America were compulsory, no one would ever give a mad fuck what the 99% thinks or even wants. No contest. We would be a true social democracy and the bastards would still be rich as hell but they would not be in a position to rob us blind. To suck every last drop from us. To dictate social policy. To shame the most stupid among us into voting against their own best interests because of christian family values. To sell us so much fear and distraction that so many actually believe that Ebola and Isis are an actual credible threat to day to day life.
The idea that Isis or Ebola represent an existential threat is the property of obtuse.
It is the silliest and most illogical nonsense I have ever witnessed and yet, it’s working.
If we lose it’s because we are in an irreparable state of moron.
Once again, America takes my breath away.
Drinks for my friends.
I still remember vinyl. The whole audio visual experience of riding my bike to the record store, buying a vinyl album, bringing it home, removing the shrink wrap, putting it on the turntable.
I remember setting the needle down, reading the liner notes, the smell of polyvinyl chloride and cardboard and ink. And then of course, the sound.
I remember it with Kiss Destroyer. Joe Walsh The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get. James Taylor. Fleetwood Mac. Supertramp. Deep Purple. Carole King. Led Zeppelin. Heart.
There was vinyl, there was the eight track tape and the cassette tape.
I availed myself of all these mediums as a kid. I was absolutely enthralled by music and the mediums it was available on. More than comic books. More than the literature I was beginning to discover. More immediate and compelling. More than anything I knew.
We began to play instruments my friends and I. They were gifted, I was not. Thank dog I figured that out pretty early. If I hadn’t, my life would have sucked. But still, music. Like nothing else, it reached all my corners.
So as I began to realize that I would never be any kind of musician, I began to understand that I perceived recorded music, the production and engineering of it, somehow more acutely than my musically gifted friends. I discovered sometime later that I have, for lack of a better word, a “condition” called synesthesia. I see sound in my head. I can replay it in my head for a very long time after I’ve first heard it. Every note, every sound.
I decided I was going to be a recording engineer before I even knew what that meant.
I involved myself as much as possible. I waded in on my friends four track cassette recorders. I discovered the limitations of really shitty EQ. I started to understand reverb and delay. I began to invest in stereo equipment.
I relinquished my managerial position at a fast food restaurant to work in my small town’s only record store.
I decided to go to school and study the craft.
I graduated with a 4.0 and received the outstanding graduate award.
I moved to Los Angeles and got hired as a janitor at the best recording studio in the world just before I turned 23.
I began to engineer and produce within a few years.
I produced, recorded and mixed my first record when I was 28 years old.
Less than a year after that, I co-produced and engineered a record that went platinum.
My point is this, I know music. I know recorded sound.
Here’s the story. What I know now is killing me. I worked in a record store when compact discs first came out. Perfect digital sound. I thought they were amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed blowing the fuses on the the record store system with Pachelbel’s Canon. Signal to noise ratio was just too much.
I moved a lot in the years after and decided to keep hauling my books from apartment to apartment and forego my vinyl. Huge mistake. I am still grateful I kept my books.
I went to work in a recording studio and discovered the warmth of vacuum tubes and analog tape. If you push tubes too hard, the distortion you get manifests itself in even order harmonics. If you push analog tape too hard it compresses and eventually distorts but it’s still even order harmonic distortion. The distortion is arguably pleasant because it is complimentary, it’s still, for all intents and purposes, in tune. Digital recording and processing, when overloaded, produces harmonic distortion that is dissonant. Of an odd order. Third order. Out of tune. Not pleasant. Ugly. It’s an over simplification but it’s true.
I made quite a few records in my day and we always stayed analog until the last possible moment. We mixed to half inch analog tape at 30 ips and cut our album sequence together the old fashioned way. With razor blades and huge half inch analog tape reels. Only then would we take it to mastering. Only then would we load the project into the digital domain necessary to mass produce compact discs for public consumption. We had the benefit of a pretty famous mastering engineer shepherding us through this process. Sometimes, going to mastering can be like going to the dentist for a cleaning. It is then that you find out how bad you fucked up the record and what the mastering engineer can do to save your rotting mouth.
This man, this mastering engineer in particular, was and is a genius. He often provided service and attention beyond our budget. He was kind. And there were times when he escorted us very gently into the digital domain because the record we had made required very little of his expertise. There were times when he did much more than we deserved or could pay for. He always did it though. He would always say “got a little money, get a little EQ”. And then he would do whatever was necessary to make us look good. It’s a fine art. A voodoo art.
At one point or another he earned the dubious distinction of “Digital Dave”. I made the mistake of referring to him by that name not long ago and he bristled. So I understand that now more than ever.
Digital is evil.
Fast forward to the present.
I have just recently forayed into the world of recording again. It’s been more than a decade since I’ve miced a drumkit. I used to be pretty damn good at this and I found out I still am. But it’s all digital now. I rented some analog gear to cut the tracks. Neves, APIs Ureis. I recorded to an old school Mackie 24 bit hard drive. Not a Studer A800 III.
We transferred those recordings to a PreSonus hard drive with Studio One software to mix. I am mixing with a mouse and a keyboard. This is where I begin to hate digital. I am impressed with it at the same time, however. The compression, the EQ, the gates, work amazingly well. I could not get the buss compressor to sound like an SSL and I could not get the snare reverb to sound exactly like an AMS nonlin program, but I got pretty goddamn close. That AMS sound was a bitch. Took me three separate presets and monkeying with the parameters for hours to mimic it.
Here’s where it all falls down.
Night before last I took a disc home. We had been printing to a standalone CD burner. This time we’re out of the recordable discs that we can use for this particular piece of gear. So we make an MP3 and put it on a disc in a MAC. I bring it home, load it up and hear all the sonic shortcomings on my ridiculously expensive stereo. Trust me, my shit is beyond reproach. Best system you will ever hear.
I was confused for a time. Where’s my bottom? Where’s my top? What is this weird frequency smear?
It sounds like shit.
Data compression. All the world transacts music through tiny little ear buds now. It’s an absolute tragedy. A travesty. It’s no longer art. Why in the world would I aspire to make a good recording anymore? It was the first time I’d ever actually listened to an MP3 file of any music, much less my own work.
I am in awe. This is what everyone is listening to. I’ve been listening to commercial radio again these days. Where there is melody, it’s Fisher Price. Production and engineering is clumsy. Like a woman who has no idea how to walk in heels. There is no product. There is no art. There is no artist identity or integrity. It’s like music is over. Give us a loop with subwoofer worthy excitement and an auto-tuned chorus mixed by some dickhead engineer who can make it the right kind of crunchy and we’ll put it on the Disney Chanel to lift pre-adolescent skirts and sell phones and apps and gum. Music is no longer performed and it’s no longer about performance. It is assembled. It’s fucking cheap.
Lowest common denominator.
There was a time in the not too distant past when an earnest musician with a modicum of talent could eek out a living in this country. People not only enjoyed but actively sought out the practice and display of the craft. People actually craved the visceral immediacy of live performance. No loops, no tapes, just real players playing and putting it out there. Now the only way to make a living is by being a tribute band or by being an actual famous artist from that era of yesterday. Even those famous artists barely make a dime off of their recordings anymore. They only make money by appearing as themselves live.
I can’t stand it.
I’m going to get to the point now. This vulgar phenomena is a metaphor for just about everything in contemporary American life. There are no more record stores anymore. There are no more book stores anymore. You can view masterpiece paintings online all day but it’s no substitute for standing in front of them and being able to see the brushstrokes and experience the color and palette and technique. The goddamn genius. Movies are increasingly sequels or remakes of tired ideas with more automatic gunfire and violence. The only attempted update is well, more realistic violence. More exaggerated violence. More profoundly ridiculous violence.
This is not about me, some middle aged dude staring down the barrel of 50 years on this planet screaming get off my lawn. This is about contemporary American society in decline. Everything is now disposable. Nothing valuable is worth a shit anymore and everything that’s not is now a priority. Perception is far more valuable than understanding and appreciation.
You can apply this notion to food, to cars, to just about anything.
The very first sign of the rapid decline of America on the world stage is our failure to appreciate what makes a society great. Our contribution to the arts. We no longer give a mad fuck about it. We barely contribute anything meaningful anymore. We lead the charge in discounting and devaluing it. We no longer teach music in our schools. Journalism is widely regarded as a joke. Writers and painters have less of a chance of making a living than ever before and film makers only make money by being specious hacks. There are entire generations now in this country that have no real understanding of the value of art at all. They have never seen it or experienced it. It all goes hand in hand with the rampant concentration of wealth, the insidious increase of money in politics. The precipitous atrophy of the middle class.
The erosion of compassion is a secondary symptom. The rise and celebration of avarice is perhaps tertiary but also the next to last stage of the lethal cancer we are actively succumbing to.
Our relevance will die, our society will fail, once our addiction to fear becomes so profound that the waging of war becomes our exclusive occupation and identity and we are well on our way. We are in the advanced throes of this infection. We have been practicing it non stop for 60 years. Most of the world knows us more for our ability to make war than uniquely American contributions to art and culture like jazz, or rock and roll or our great writers and artists and film makers.
Nice calling card huh?
Welcome to stage four.
“When Winston Churchill was Prime Minister and he was told that there were going to be major cuts in arts and culture because of the mounting costs of World War II, he responded with a simple reply, ‘Then what are we fighting for?’”
Drinks for my friends.
Guess what pisses me off.
It’s a rhetorical question.
Precious liberals who quake at the very notion of Obama being anything less than the liberal messiah.
I am sick of this shit.
I criticize our savior and panty waste liberals piss themselves over my abhorrent blasphemy.
I’m an apostate.
A stranger in a strange land.
Instead, all you hand wringing “liberals” waste time and energy on indignancy over the latest birther conspiracy theories. Like the idea that Michelle Obama was born a man and therefore cannot be the mother of the first daughters Really? Without a doubt if these people appear in front of you in the streets, take the time to piss all over their shoes. But otherwise, pay them no mind.
Grow up. He’s part of the machine. When it comes to the military industrial complex, he is but a cog. When it comes to America’s overt and unchecked aggression around the world, Obama doesn’t dictate policy, he merely manages it for public consumption.
If he screws it up, liberals are perceived as soft on terror and law and order and we suck in the mid term elections and risk the general. Because the fear has been mismanaged. The President of the United States manages perception and expectation. He does not dictate policy. Policy has been the purview of oligarchs and plutocrats for decades before our current commander in chief was even born.
Get over it.
Grow the fuck up.
And yes, your vote counts because the more you vote, the more your vote counts. If voting didn’t count there wouldn’t be such elaborate efforts to suppress it. Efforts that are breathtaking in audacity. Hundreds of thousands of women and minorities disenfranchised because the bastards understand they cannot possibly win a fair fight. Get used to the idea of choosing between the lesser of two evils until the majority of progressives show up at the goddamn polls every time.
Consistency. When this happens, we will be heard and change will occur.
But you don’t show up.
Even though we are the majority.
People who care, people that want economic equality, people who want justice, people who realize how pointless perpetual war is, are the majority. Not just in this country, but across the globe.
It’s far easier for the opposition to manipulate the stupid than it is for our side to inspire the intelligent. It’s so much easier to fool a man than it is to convince him he’s been fooled.
Organizing liberals is like herding cats.
We are a nation at war. It is what we do. We have spent all but a few decades of our entire history doing exactly that. We spend more than half what the rest of the entire world does on it. Like a trillion dollars a year. Really. That’s sick. We could cut our “defense” budget in half and solve poverty, homelessness and infrastructure. We could provide free health care and education for every single citizen. Other countries do it all the time. They pay for all that. Because they don’t make war their main business.
But we don’t.
Because we are led to believe we should be very afraid.
Does that sound like a profound addiction to violence to you?
An abominable addiction to fear?
Is it any wonder that we are perceived by the rest of the world as a country of loud mouthed assholes?
We have earned that distinction by killing inordinate amounts of people all over the goddamn planet for our entire history.
Even our own from time to time. It was quite convenient.
We really are badass.
It’s not Obama’s fault. But it is his problem.
It is our problem.
He’s not handling it particularly well these days.
Neither are we.
We don’t win wars anymore. We fight them. We start them. The two longest wars of our history are our two last wars. Obama pisses me off because he’s in his second term and he’s not refusing any of it. He won’t do it. He’s polite. He’s respectful. Reasonable. Qualities I confess I admire. But I can’t stand it anymore. He’s being as much in the face of insanity. He could lead. He could roll the dice and risk it all. Say what he thinks and force what he knows. But he won’t. He may just be our last best chance before we have a third world war.
But he won’t.
I can’t stand it.
We the people, have to make him.
That’s the way it works. That’s the way it always works. It’s the way it’s always worked.
Otherwise we just start bombing the shit out of brown people again. Like we are now. Tens if not hundreds of thousands will die, many of them innocent civilians and when it’s all over, it will be way more fucked up than when we started. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Over and over and over. Every goddamn time we do this we succeed in only making it worse.
And then, we just must go in and clean it up yet again. We just must. Yet again. Yet again. Over and over again.
And the scary thing is this, that’s the idea. This is what your leaders, your elected representatives WANT.
So some of you liberals get all fierce and brave and block me from your pages for broaching the subject. For being unpatriotic. For being less than American. For pointing it out.
You endorse aggression because of fear. Fear of ISIS or Ebola or immigrants or Islam.
I seem to remember a time when liberals were pragmatic and I’m pretty sure it coincided with conservatives being stupid but sane.
The evil elite count on your confusion, your disillusion, they count on it, they have come to expect it. The stupid are always certain and vote with conviction, the well informed always have doubts because they are intellectually responsible by nature and are confused because they are open minded and just plain curious. So they end up sacrificing the good for the sake of the perfect and throw their weight and vote behind some ridiculous goofecock like Ralph Nader. You people really chap my ass.
Get a grip liberals.
You are the difference. You are the majority. If you just show up and vote consistently, you get able bodied employment, the ability to compete in a global market. All of it. No more slack jawed morons rewriting textbooks in Texas to promote creationism in classrooms, no more revocation of a woman’s right to actually vote or dominion over her own biology. No more banks preying on you with egregious policies and interest rates. No more flammable tap water and carcinogenic air and soil and food.
All of it because that’s what Americans want, and if Americans vote, we can have it.
Think about that.
You will never get everything you want. But if you don’t show up and participate, you will only get what you don’t want. You will only get what horrifies and disgusts you. Like now. And it will be no one’s fault but your own.
This blog is dedicated to my facebook friend Lizzie Borden who passed just the other day at the ripe young age of 76. I will miss her fierceness and wit in defending common sense, compassion and her ardent defense of humanity. She was a beautiful fish in a sea of cynicism. May she rest in peace and may her family be comforted by the fact that she always took the high road and never feared to tread and resist in the company of those who would forgo decency for avarice, to battle against those who would forsake love for power.
She was a gorgeous human being.
Drinks for my friends.
It’s like deja vu all over again.
One nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all, has been at war for all but 21 years in its 238 year existence.
The talking heads tell us there’s no way air strikes alone will extinguish the latest bogeyman called ISIS or ISIL or whatever the fuck. After all, they beheaded three westerners live on video. It was on TV in 3D and HD over and over and over. So our plan is to arm and train and fund the “moderate rebels”. Nevermind that we’re fine with Saudi Arabia, one of the most brutally violent, archaic, misogynist, serial public beheading regimes in the entire world. The Saudis do this shit every week.
Breakfast and then on to the decapitation.
Cocktails at three. Virgins at six.
We thoroughly enjoy trade with North Korea.
Not Cuba, those people are savages.
But this Islamic State. We must stop THESE bastards.
I don’t want to alarm you, but they are under your bed as we speak. Really. Not Cubans or North Koreans but yes, Muslims with murder in their hearts. Don’t look. Just make sure you’re locked and loaded. Batteries in your flashlights.
The talking heads are conditioning us to accept that this will be a protracted campaign. There won’t be boots on the ground though, not unless absolutely necessary. Wink. Wink.
All this despite the experts pointing out that there is no existential threat to America whatsoever.
Can I interest you in a bridge or some swamp land?
War is just America’s way of saying it loves you. It loves you so much we created, funded and armed the enemy. It loves you so much you now have no choice but to fear for no goddamn reason. America loves you so much, it understands we all have too much money and the ones who have a shitload of it just don’t have enough. America loves you so much that we’re going to have yet another war to correct that whole wealth distribution thing.
America is very sorry that Darth Cheney’s empire only made $39 billion last time.
America loves you so much that it was forced to turn your local police departments into militarized testosterone fueled terrorists to combat the lowest violent crime rate in decades. America loves you so much that you’re way more likely to be killed by a cop than a terrorist. Way more likely to be killed by your own gun. America is glad that you actually fear terrorists more than your local police though.
America loves you so much that it also has to foment an insidious gun culture so pervasive and perverted that nine year old girls are accidentally shooting people to death at gun ranges with goddamn Uzis.
Your government loves you so much that it is going to lie to you for as long as possible about being at war until it cannot possibly deny that we’re at war again. When that critical mass is achieved, your government will start telling you that the war is being won.
The problem is thus, if we actually win a war, that war should end. They will tell you we are winning but they will be more and more reluctant to concede we’ve actually won. Even though we haven’t actually won a war for 60 years. We do not actually win wars. It’s beside the point. The people who profit cease to make AS MUCH if the war is actually over.
America loves you so much, it tries very hard to not actually end wars, even if there is a solution to the conflict.
Because then they will have to undertake the arduous recreation of starting yet another war with another foe or country or religion.
America understands that loving you means never having to say it is sorry.
Because America doesn’t give a mad fuck about Americans.
Being American means you never have to be sorry about anything at all.
Drinks for my friends.
I know things you don’t. Things you can’t. Things you would deny vehemently even if you knew them to be true.
Because of these things I know, I have suffered.
I am going to tell you a story. Before I am done, you will be sorry you heard it. By the time I am done you will most likely begin to doubt everything you thought you knew. Before I am done, you will have trouble resting your head on your pillow at night. By the time I am done, there will be no peace in your bed, between your sheets and blankets or in your head while it rests on your pillow. Because you will see no reason why it cannot happen to you.
This is not my objective.
Well, maybe it is.
All human beings serve at the pleasure of evil no matter what name they give it.
I know that now.
I feel like I first noticed him by accident. I didn’t see him as the goddamn devil or anything. Not at first anyway. No horns, no cloven hooves, no bifurcated tongue or stench of brimstone. He did smell dirty. Porcine. I will tell you that before it was all over I was reduced to praying to a God I never believed in.
It was no accident.
Still, in the beginning, I had fun with it. For awhile. It’s true, I did. I wasn’t afraid at first. Not really anyway. I was cocky. Dumb. Cynical.
At first it was like picking a scab or scratching a rash. I hated it but I liked it. Savory and sweet. It’s how evil works.
All this until he stood over my bed one windless night and some sense caused me to open my eyes. To surface from twilight wandering. He inhaled with a rattle. He sucked back ropes and vines of spittle and mucus from his lips and giant teeth. He dropped an index finger on my sternum and it reeked of dirt and grease and gasoline. His nails were long, black and mottled. He said nothing but he looked right at me. Not through me, but straight at me. He stank of things rotting and seething in dark places.
He fucking stank.
He sighed then, as though he lamented being so disturbing. Like he was sorry for just how horrific he was, lit only by the moon breaking through my window behind him.
He paused for a time and vibrated with naked rage over my bed with his finger on my chest.
I was frozen. Paralyzed. The sliding door to my balcony was open, and some breeze finally clattered the vertical blinds, bringing the odor of animals. Pig shit. He turned and walked away tapping the walls as he went, away from my bed and out my front door. I heard him close it quietly behind him and somehow lock it from outside. He rapped the walls with his knuckles all the way down the hall and down the stairs to the street exit.
I know because I heard it. Somehow, I could hear it.
The cancer seduces you and before you know it, you’re complicit. You are stained all over. Within the cage of a single season I was neck deep. I was delivered from sobriety and inebriation into madness.
I slept in my own piss.
Wanna know what puts the fear of God in me? Just how many goddamn self righteous all knowing mouth breathers in this country that still cling to the archaic notion that the earth is only two or six thousand years old. The people who maintain with a straight face and beatific countenance that the only reason dinosaurs no longer walk among us is because they didn’t make it on to Noah’s fucking Ark.
I’ve had it with organized religion. I can’t stand it.
All of life, all of the perception and preparation for life is the careful balance between instant gratification and delayed gratification and there is no other institution invented by man that manages and manipulates that balance better than organized religion. Catholic, Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Baptist ……..whatever the goddamn hell. Organized religion understands very well that it is far more difficult to convince an individual they have been fooled than it is to fool them to begin with.
So they do the best they can to get to them early.
America wages war under the guise of religious righteousness. Either that or some perverted brand of religious nationalism. Take your pick. Pat Robertson or Ted Nugent. The serpent is of the same the same species of jingo.
You know, God, country, guns, family values……..
I can’t stand it.
It is an excuse for war, execution, discrimination, bigotry, misogyny, molestation of children, rape, murder, conquest, persecution and prosecution in no particular order but perhaps more than anything it provides stupid, willfully ignorant people justification to pass judgement on other people they know nothing about. It’s an alibi for just about every brand of fuckery humans engage in.
I am sick to death of it.
We pretend it’s about other things.
That’s the curtain.
Money, industry, oil, money, oil, you bet.
America has a vested interest in in places that don’t make sense because America is oil. The most profitable business in the history of humankind is oil. Most of the biggest companies who trade in fossil fuels hang their hat in America on one hook or another. These companies totally run our shit. They dictate our choices. They own our media. They now write our legislation. They decide what information we have access to. They ooze into our food and water without consequence.
Welcome to exactly how religion manifests itself. Have a nice day.
I’m only in the know because I have a decoder ring.
When you run afoul of these companies your name starts to sound like Snowden or Manning. Maybe Ellsburg. Chomsky or even Einstein. The only thing these people have in common is shining a light on what it is we are doing to ourselves. Throw Greenwald, Scahill and Taibi in the mix, they’re brave bastards too.
There was a plan in place for Iraq before we went in the second time to carve it up by petroleum interest. By company. Bases and installations were named after oil companies. How fucking sick is that?
We did that.
THAT is why we did that.
We went there and we showed them just how much havoc we could visit on their heads. We weren’t there to fuck around. We killed so many of them that we don’t really know how many we killed. Clearly, we are not done. Iraq is a new front again, Afghanistan is waning so we turn to our old ally, Israel. They love us. We can wage war from their geography until the cows come home.
We give them $6 million a day.
Neoconservative Christians can’t wait for the rapture/apocalypse and Israel is totally on board.
Two of the most powerful factions on the planet banking on Santa Clause. What am I missing here?
Even the Zionists are getting played.
We’ve got ISIS, ISIL, IS, Al Qaeda, Hamas, Hezbollah, Sunni, Shia…………we are either Dr. Frankenstein or the monster himself in each case. Creatures of the American device.
And all of this is sold to us under the guise that we somehow have a right because our imaginary man is better than their imaginary man. Our imaginary man is righteous and can therefore usurp the land and murder the people who are friends with some other imaginary man. It’s always a man, isn’t that convenient?
And people actually buy it. They believe it. They feel positively good about it. Mindless celebrants of myth.
On both sides.
The only thing that makes me fear God is the people who believe in him and there is way too many of them.
While we sit here, while you read this, we are bombing the ever loving shit out of brown people that never did a damn thing to us. People that never used to even wish bad things for us.
People now. People starting to think about you and me. People who’ve hated us for awhile. It is our dollars and our gear that decapitate their children. They are thinking about us. About you and me. They are hating us. Can you blame them?
Do they hate us or do they hate our God?
Beware the most pious, they are always infected with the disease of the most advanced hypocrisy.
Drinks for my friends.
You are here.
I keep paying attention to this.
I keep pointing it out.
There is just enough to keep the women and kids all fired up. Just enough to make us all afraid of things we don’t understand. Things they aren’t about to explain.
We can dance to it but we absolutely hate the beat.
At least the American impetus is often enough about race exclusively. Spectacularly. Race on the most granular level. Not only its institutionalization but the bones of the implementation. The talking points of bigotry. Calves the size of cantaloupes on drug mules threatening our way of life and diseases like Ebola flooding our borders every minute. Stealing our jobs and all like that.
It’s a goddamn political discipline.
The indiscriminate killing of young black men because they are young and black and because entire swaths of America have decided that they are a problem before figuring out they are human.
You know, the fundamentals.
White cop shoots unarmed black kid to death from like twenty feet away. Unarmed. With extreme prejudice. At least six times. Twenty feet away. Broad daylight. Almost two weeks ago. Eyewitnesses. No tazer. No backup. Walked around the body for awhile. Hasn’t even been charged. You gotta be kidding me. They need a grand jury. Might take until mid October. That’s some bullshit. Everybody knows who did it and it’s murder.
The cop never even filed a report. Think about that. He never filed a real goddamn report. Who’s kidding who here?
5th amendment about to become an eight hundred pound pain in the ass.
The local powers think it’s a secret. Really. They think they are keeping a secret from the world. Kinda like they believe they have superhuman abilities of deception and obfuscation and no one suspects anything at all. It’s like they don’t know that we can see. What kind of bubble are these abominable white men living in? They leak unrelated information, video, toxicology, they invent blunt force trauma injuries nearly two weeks after the fact.
What we have here is an entire municipality with lungs that turn oxygen into shit.
More than anything else, I’m fascinated by this dance in particular.
He was gunned down in the street for no good reason. He wasn’t armed with anything. We actually know who did it. And the dance is awesome. Damn near overwhelming. Everyone with a microphone keeps playing along. Everyone in front of a camera sways to one version or another. To keep the peace. To preserve some semblance of order.
Like if they stopped dancing and admitted that a kid was shot full of holes and the cop who did it was allowed to flee the state, we’d all go fucking nuts.
Because that’s exactly what happened.
They tell us he shoplifted. They called it burglary. Not true. Didn’t happen. Store owner and video. They call him a “thug”. Racist code for “nigger”. Fuck me I hate that word. Both of them.
But no, goddamnit, no. We breathe a sigh of relief and maybe exhale some gratitude and focus a little more on the problems at hand. We’re able to do that because the media is waltzing to insipid disco and refuses to belly up to the bar. Our cue to have another. See?
If only they could join us in our disgust.
Instead they relieve us of it.
What we have now is a pointless debate where none is necessary. There is nothing to argue here. A dirty cop executed a man in the street for no reason and we jump around pretending to figure out what happened and what to do.
We know what happened and we know what should happen. We know what is right. We know what to say about it. We know what to do about it. There is no religion here. We kneel at the altar of a certain convenience of views. We recognize the folly of too much courage and too little.
One only feels respect when it’s mutual.
Or all we have to do is dance.
Drinks for my friends.
At this point what we don’t know is not important but what we do know is of awesome relevance. We know that a white police officer pumped at least six rounds into an unarmed black male who witnesses say was earnestly trying to surrender. That police officer had only foreknowledge of one rather innocuous crime upon initiating the confrontation.
That crime was jaywalking.
What we know is that the killing occurred in a city with a rather notorious and insidious culture of racial animus. A consistent and verifiable history of prejudice, persecution and prosecution against the majority of it’s citizens who are black. What we know is the majority of the residents of Ferguson Missouri are fed the fuck up.
Here’s another thing we know, in any other scenario, with any of the finite number of variables altered or reversed, the shooter would be in jail, in custody, charged with murder.
The local, state and federal authorities appear to be at a loss. All of them confused about what to do to control the demonstrations. What to do to stem the violence and looting. What to do to curb the understandably spirited civil unrest. You’d think they would have caught a clue last Thursday when cooler heads prevailed briefly and the flagrant show of over the top military style force was dialed back for an evening.
The next day, local authorities, despite the protestations of the federal DOJ, released convenience store video of the victim apparently pilfering some cheap cigars. Not long after they were forced to admit it was completely unrelated and that the officer in question had no knowledge of it. Today it was leaked that toxicology reports indicated the victim was on the pot. Really. That he had marijuana in his system. Really.
Here is what I know and what you probably know too: If the sonafabitch were in fucking jail and being charged with murder, the mood might just change a little.
I’m not sure it would alleviate the tension entirely but it occurs to me if there is any sincere desire to ameliorate the situation in a meaningful way they would arrest the murdering prick and parade him on perp walk with all attendant pomp.
Drinks for my friends.
I get it she says. I understand she tells me. All those hoses and belts, all the tubes and valves, all those wires and lines that are leaking and spraying so much sorrow and doom and that man thought four or five times more and four or five times faster than me…… It makes sense why he would take his own life.
It makes complete sense.
She tells me this on the way to the balcony for a smoke.
I follow her out while it makes sense to me.
Maybe it wasn’t just Mr. William’s own morbid malaise.
Maybe it’s us. All of us. The worst of us.
We live in an age where heroes are impossible, where dignity and elegance are endangered if not extinct. There is hardly any grace anymore. It is now virtually impossible for a champion of ordinary people to establish any meaningful foothold before they are either dissected by corruption or seduced by it.
Selfishness now elevated to virtue.
Peace, love and understanding bifurcated into “isms”.
I think we have reached the point of no return.
We may just be fucked.
The only question I have is who we’re taking with us. How many other species? How many beavers how many whales how many bees? How many fucking caribou are we going to take with us? Every mammal on this planet knows the entire planet is now toxic. They can see it smell it and taste it while they swim or hunt. While they forage and breathe.
And so do we.
Bloodshed is the new normal and nutritious food is neither. We cannot bear witness to all the war and famine and suffering on this scale now, just how jacked up shit is, and not know how goddamn close we are to the end of days for too much longer. We cannot keep this up. You cannot smell your shampoo in the morning without understanding that rain forests are evaporating. It’s virtually impossible despite your personal grooming choices.
Goddamn we are brave. We rage against the dying of the light. Oh my how we rage. We have cable tv and relatively slow internet. We have HD and smartphones that keep us from even looking at each other. Been in an elevator lately? We consistently vote against our own interests out of fear and ignorance. The human race is stuck in its own stupidity. Our very own vulgarity and self loathing. We can’t be bothered about the better angels of our nature having expired. We are now subject to barely more than our foibles and weaknesses as the race of man and they will most surely be our demise.
The planet cooks, it’s actually baking. Soon water will be at a premium like gasoline. Politicians rape and steal. Religions and ideologies visit war on the rest. All covered, spun, spewed and packaged for our entertainment and so called edification on cable tv in HD.
Violence and firepower elevated to a virtue.
There simply is no countervailing wind to blow against the avarice and mendacity that constantly engulfs us with every breath we take and every move we make. There simply isn’t. It doesn’t exist. It’s not democrats. It’s not liberals. It’s not social workers or teachers or unions. Combined they have not enough to oppose the human mountain of filthy lucre that piles everyday despite the best intentions of what is not a unified front.
What we have now is a gale, a hurricane, that has already ripped apart any sail that would turn its wind, its force, into anything but malice .
It really is like evil is winning.
We slash funding for education while we demonize teachers and then build more prisons for profit. We cut food stamps and unemployment beneficiaries off at the knees while we arm our police departments with weaponry intended for third world military conflicts.
She tells me this on the way to the balcony for a smoke.
Drinks for my friends.
His hand passes in front of my face, its trail is all tobacco and wool and after shave with a wooden top.
He’s showing me the ticket he just bought.
The goliath in my periphery.
I can’t stand it.
Giant cacophony of the calliope.
Light and sound shrink me.
I can’t help it.
It scares me sick.
I know if I knock on hindquarters it will be impossibly hard and hollow.
The other kids can barely stand it.
Their glee is desperate and horrible.
They screech bloody and hysterical.
He talks on his phone, glasses reflecting the sun so I can’t see his eyes and know who or what he is.
He wants me to get on it.
He wants me to ride it.
The day was warm and dense.
It’s cool now with a breeze so now a harbinger of inevitability.
Cold sweat down my neck and between my shoulders.
He brought me here for this.
To please me?
To make me happy?
Why does this matter to him?
Doesn’t he understand that I am afraid of this?
Here at the carnival and all I want is cotton candy and corn dogs and maybe a Ferris Wheel ride.
I had no intention of mounting one of these snarling mutes impaled by brass polls from deck to canopy.
It lumbers and wheezes, painted garish.
I know he knows.
He doesn’t want me to be thrilled.
He wants to witness my terror.
To absorb it.
To drink it.
He hands me the simple pink ticket and I have no choice.
My voice dries up and my will evaporates.
I walk through the gate and the grinding organ is breathing far too loud.
Its awful distortion hisses and confuses me.
I hate it.
I can’t stand it.
The deck rattles and sways under my shoes.
I rap my knuckles on its rump. So hard it makes no sense and the thunk is hollow.
There is no choice but to mount the beast and hope for the best.
To be free of it as soon as I can.
I’m in a very busy department store and everyone understands but me.
No one looks at me.
No one sees me.
Sweat runs around my ears and past my throat.
There is no saddle and I can’t reach the stirrups.
Right from the start it feels on the verge, about to be out of control.
Nothing to do but to cling to the poll.
My hands wet.
Afraid for my grip.
If only I could be somebody else or someplace else.
He talks on his phone and laughs and I still can’t see his eyes when I come around.
He betrays not a single other thing.
Drinks for my friends.
I guess I’m naive.
It was obviously a mistake to open my head and heart and share my thoughts on something as profoundly controversial as the Israeli Palestinian conflict. A mistake to speak out against war in general and this one in particular.
In hindsight it occurs to me that my biggest mistake was not only not taking a side but also lamenting the conspicuous horror and consummate savagery of it. Sincerely and honestly despairing all the senseless death of men and women and children. So many, so completely innocent of everything, but still finding themselves between powers greater than their own and no where to run.
I guess it was a mistake to so earnestly, perhaps brazenly, reveal my own humanity and genuine empathy. I guess it was a mistake to instead of endorse the actions of one side or the other, to have the audacity to wonder at its end. To hope for a resolution. It’s a mistake I can live with. I’ll own that mistake every day with every fiber of my being.
For this I have been called an anti-Semite. It breaks my heart, it really does. Some are content to say so behind my back, but some who are so quick to judge have been valuable friends of mine for nearly a quarter century. People whom I respect and without reservation can say I love. People with integrity and in possession of hearts so honest and open as to be vulnerable to all the cruelties of life and other people. People who I know feel the same about me for the same reasons.
Some of these people now judge me to be anti-Semitic because I didn’t pick a side.
I imagine that if no one were to take a side, war would be impossible. I’m a pacifist. I am guilty of that and so be it. But I absolutely bristle at the label of anti-Semite. It is no different than the furious offense I would take to being called a racist or a homophobe. It is beyond exasperating. It is not in any way representative of how I’ve led my life and the choices I’ve made as the result of teachings by good, honest and thoughtful parents.
To be called any of these things is bad enough.
It is an anathema.
To be thought of as any of them is soul torturing.
I would ask any of you who actually know me, who know my heart, my actions and deeds as a fellow inhabitant of this planet to stop and think. Just because I oppose not just your war but all war including the ones my country wages, all violence and cruelty, all man’s inhumanity to man, that doesn’t make me an anti-Semite. That merely makes me a human being with a modicum of compassion for all the other human inhabitants of this tiny blue marble hanging in a universe too vast for any of us to comprehend.
I have maligned no one in particular, I haven’t discriminated against any individual or group. I have never in my life consciously engaged in anything of the kind. What I have done is shine an obviously uncomfortable light on every single one of us.
“Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman.” -Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis.
If I have offended anyone, it was not my intent but I nonetheless apologize. I’m not sure whether it’s more painful to have inadvertently done so, or for any of you to assume I would do as much with malice or intent.
Drinks for my friends.
*In the interest of context this piece is intended to address a small number of reactions to the previous one on the same subject-simply scroll down to the previous blog*
I’m a little embarrassed.
I do hope you enjoy my etchings because of my unapologetic approach when taking on the big issues. I just love the big cats. I confess I’ve been hiding on this one. My reluctance is informed by personal relationships and the deafening heat of the controversy lately. The burning incandescence on social media alone singed me enough to back way off.
Maybe I owe you. MaybeI feel an obligation. I owe myself. I struggled with objectivity and visceral anger. I think I’ve been able to open the aperture wide enough to allow the big picture. Had to let lots of light in. I understand this will chap a lot of asses, but I need to get it off my chest while my hand is steady enough to share my thoughts.
There is no question that the situation between Israel and Palestine is a tragedy beyond imagination for anyone not experiencing it firsthand.
A closed loop of violence leading to more violence. A zero sum game. A vicious cycle of carnage and destruction that is so profound, so utterly horrifying that most of us can not bare to look.
But still, there are those of us who can stare and revel and relish.
It is a vacuum of logic. No matter what the more moderate rhetoric coming from either side asserts, the ultimate goal is the annihilation of the opposing side. Neither side will own satisfaction without the complete extinction of the other. They’ve both said as much. It’s insane.
And for what?
Centuries, sometimes millennia old religious myths. It’s gotta be one of the dumbest, most ridiculous and pointless campaigns in human history. What’s new?
Israel finds itself in the position of rolling tanks to a water balloon fight. Because they can. And they do. Not even close to what any sane observer would call a measured response. Are they guilty of human atrocity and war crimes?
You bet your ass they are.
Kinda like the US in Iraq.
Would Hamas take it upon themselves to engage in exactly the same level of human vivisection if they were wearing the same shoe of absolute military superiority and total economic dominance?
In a fucking heart beat.
Doth both very bad actors have blood on their hands? The intentional blood of their own people on their hands? Let me just say they are both so festooned with gore one would be hard pressed to tell them apart. One might compare numbers but it occurs to me that’s like comparing dicks.
Is the US complicit? Yes, we are guilty as hell. We fucking fund it.
Is Palestine? Absolute Islamic fundamentalist whack jobs. Quite a bit like Christians.
Is the media culpable by only covering the very extreme edges and without humanity, fomenting polarization as rocket fuel for the inferno?
To be clear, I’m not blaming anybody, I’m blaming everybody.
From the Hamas Charter:
“….. “our struggle against the Jews is very great and very serious” and calls for the eventual creation of an Islamic state in Palestine, in place of Israel and the Palestinian Territories, and the obliteration or dissolution of Israel.” -Wikiepedia
“The time will not come until Muslims will fight the Jews [and kill them]; until the Jews hide behind rocks and trees, which will cry: O Muslim! There is a Jew hiding behind me, come on and kill him!” -Wikepedia
“Every day, official Palestinian television calls Jews “rats” and “animals.” This is repugnant. On the official Facebook page of Palestinian schools, one sees photographs of Hitler, and cartoons that illustrate the hadith (statements attributed to the prophet Mohammed) saying that Muslims must kill the Jews before the Last Judgment (“Yom al-Din”).” -The Washington Institute
As for Israel:
” [The Palestinians are] beasts walking on two legs.” Menachem Begin, speech to the Knesset, quoted in Amnon Kapeliouk, “Begin and the Beasts”. New Statesman, 25 June 1982.
“When we have settled the land, all the Arabs will be able to do about it will be to scurry around like drugged cockroaches in a bottle.” Raphael Eitan, Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defence Forces, New York Times, 14 April 1983.
“We have to kill all the Palestinians unless they are resigned to live here as slaves.” Chairman Heilbrun of the Committee for the Re-election of General Shlomo Lahat, the mayor of Tel Aviv, October 1983.
“One million Arabs are not worth a Jewish fingernail.” — Rabbi Yaacov Perrin, Feb. 27, 1994 [Source: N.Y. Times, Feb. 28, 1994, p. 1]
Am I supposed to pick a dog in this hunt?
Explosive murderous hate based exclusively on bullshit undiluted Santa in the sky religious crap.
This cannot possibly end well because logic has no purchase.
The question is, how can it possibly end?
It certainly shows no sign.
Will there ever be a postmortem?
When are we, as a mere single species on this tiny blue marble, going to gain some humility and grow the fuck up?
It is beyond absurd. It is beyond disgusting. There are no words.
A heartbreaking lack of reason.
Drinks for my friends.
Have you ever noticed how the blowhards who rail against raising the minimum wage, or even the mandate of one at all, are the same ones who who piss and moan about undocumented workers stealing their jobs? Ever notice how they never blame the fat white business owners who would sooner drink from a bed pan than pay minimum wage to any skin color, the same ones who exploit these poor workers so as to bathe and shower and wipe their asses with the filthy lucre gleaned from such egregious slavery?
Isn’t it just awesome that most babysitters command $10 an an hour while the minimum wage is $7.75?
That head butts me with irony and ridiculousness.
I am blistered by hypocrisy.
Ever notice how they are the same ones who whine about the once powerful unions? You know, the very entities that guaranteed they get a weekend and a vacation and maybe a pension?
Ever notice how they are from the poorest states? You know, the red states that get way more than their share of government revenue in the form of social programs than they contribute in the form of tax dollars?
Real brave bunch we’ve got here.
Ever notice how absurdly Christian they are?
If you are willing and able to work a forty hour work week in this country you deserve adequate food, shelter and healthcare. If they cannot or will not pay a living wage in this country then they do not deserve to do business in this country. If they cannot recognize that the regions in this country that pay a more competitive wage are thriving and the ones that don’t are wallowing in atrophy, they must be idiots.
The majority of analysis supports the notion that a living wage raises all boats and trickle down economics sinks all but the yachts and the battleships.
You have to be a dumbass if you are still defending the “job creators”.
Their arguments are selfish and ludicrous. If they don’t get this, if their business model is dependent on attainment and avarice, the erosion of the middle class and the further criminal concentration of wealth, then I invite them to piss up a goddamn rope.
I guess I just don’t understand where we are as a country if such a common sense idea like raising the minimum wage is even controversial for people who schlep and suffer the abuse of the indignant, when the idea is so frustratingly popular. I guess I just don’t understand it when just about all of us at one time or another have worked those jobs and realize they are no walk in the damn park. I guess I just don’t understand why these people don’t deserve to live off what they make for serving you your goddamn salad or your fucking hamburger.
I guess I just don’t understand it.
What I really don’t understand is all the dentally challenged mouth breathers that are more worried abut winning the lottery someday and having to pay taxes on it than having to work some bullshit job at Walmart and qualify for government subsidies. I worry that they don’t care that their employer refuses to pay you enough to live on or even the ability to buy their goddamn products without being on the government tit.
What I really don’t understand is the filthy rich, who will never want for anything but love and respect while they perpetuate this madness because their entire world is about excess and privilege and the twisted notion that they deserve it and the other people they suffer day to day do not.
It occurs to me that most of them are dumb as sticks and the rest of them are greedy pricks.
What a brave bunch.
Drinks for my friends.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
What special brand of asshole shows up to protest child refugees from south American countries armed?
What particular kind of stupid is requisite here, to get up in the morning, get dressed, have some coffee, lock and load, looking forward to a day that will be about brandishing your rifle and carrying a moronic and likely misspelled sign depicting mere innocent children as evil and disease ridden infiltrators?
Diseases like Ebola, that don’t exist outside Africa.
Children that are the victims of our oppressive economic policies and our failed, utterly disastrous drug laws.
Who gets out of bed to terrorize children?
Confused and frightened children. Children who can’t speak our language.
Children of parents just as confused and frightened as a direct result of American influence in their own hopelessly poor South American countries.
Parents so profoundly confused and frightened and obviously absent any other option that they are compelled to exercise the only option they see as viable. The only option available. To send them a thousand or more miles a way on a dangerous and arduous journey to the good old US of A. How sad in the 21st century that is their best choice.
Just exactly what are you very special assholes worried about? What are you afraid of? When humans behave this way the only explanation is fear. Occam’s razor.
Are these guiltless children gonna take your goddamn jobs?
Rick Perry and Sean Hannity need to take it upon themselves to patrol the border armed to the teeth and and fucking televise it? I guess Ted Nugent wasn’t available.
You people. Afraid of this. So afraid you bring your goddamn guns to scare the already traumatized and horrified CHILDREN. Rednecks. Teabillies. Willfully ignorant, deliberately under informed fucktards. At what age did you lose your capacity for compassion? At what time in your life did the callus on your soul grow so thick that you can’t recognize human suffering and desperation?
You call yourselves militia.
You’re no militia. You are the disease. You are the cancer and we can’t wait until you die of your own insidious malaise.
You are the same car full of dangerous clowns that showed up to defend the now infamous fraud Cliven Bundy.
Bring yer guns boys!
The same clowns that showed up to beat on Americans who dared to demand civil rights already afforded to them in the 60′s.
The same clowns who want to sue or impeach the president.
The same clowns whos biggest legitimate fear is that the American white male dominated society is on the wane.
The same clowns who really need to get over it. You’re right. It’s coming to an end and you all are now faced with the task of being equal. No more unearned privilege. No more automatic advantage. You now are faced with the brutal reality of being the same as everyone else. Equal. Woe is you, you fucking abject cowards. Maybe tomorrow you can get up, lock and load and scare the shit out of white people at Chipotle or Target with your stupid fucking guns.
Good for you.
In the meantime, keep eating crayons while fantasizing about lighting up some immigrant with your ridiculous goddamn boom stick.
Your desperation stinks. And we are sick of the smell.
Drinks for my friends.
I am a woman. I gave birth. It was painful. Excruciating. Agony. No one knows. I do.
My child knows no one other purview until it gulps air outside of me. Until it leaves my womb it belongs to me and no one else. No other body, governmental or even judicial matters at all to me.
Not as far as I’m concerned anyway.
I really don’t care what you have to say.
I cannot stand five catholic men in black robes who would decide anything for me or the child in my body. I loathe you for trying. Your ignorance. Your arrogance. Your hubris. When the day comes I want to relinquish control of my life, my child’s life, to the likes of you, I’ll let you know. It will have a big fancy seal. It will be on parchment. Sheepskin. You’ll know. Champagne and caviar.
Until then, shut the fuck up.
We all know you think it’s your religious privilege. We all know you think you’re somehow entitled to a voice here. A heavy legislative hand. A right. But you are wrong. You don’t. You can’t. You won’t. You can’t tell me what contraception to use anymore than you can tell me what to do with my womb. My body. You stand there, collecting your filthy lucre from the dirtier angels of our filthiest nature and presume to define sin for me.
You took a stand on the side of a company that wears its hypocrisy on its goddamn face. They invest in and make money off of the manufacture of contraceptive products. They willingly paid for the objectionable products for their employees for years. Decades. What changed besides Obamacare? They say their mission is to prevent abortion but the only net gain from this will be more abortion.
By the way, they say the contraceptive products they won’t pay for kill babies. Wrong. Completely wrong. What they do is prevent fertilization. No beings. No babies. How did we get to a place where the Supreme Court is guilty of science denial while listening to and valuing the opinions of clerics and wizards?
Five Roman Catholic men who wear black robes to work.
In this process you would willingly consign me to a coat hanger.
I am a man and I do not accept this jurisprudence. It is the antithesis of jurisprudence.
But I am a woman too.
It’s like your whole reason is to make sure it’s born.
After that, it’s nobodies business but mine. Ironic how you grab responsibility before it’s born and surrender it completely the second after. How do adult white men entertain the notion that they somehow get to champion the fetus and forgo the child?
They are the last people.
Then, some sonafabitching congressman comes along to make my last stand.
To pretend to speak for me and all the unborn.
I am a woman and I have given birth and if I begin to understand that delivery might mean my death, I get to decide what to do. If that child will be born inside out? My problem. If that child is born with whatever disability? My problem.
The same goes for my contraception. Sometimes it’s to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. But 56% of the women in this country that avail themselves of contraceptive medication have it prescribed to them by doctors for reasons other than preventing pregnancy. Sometimes it’s to prevent my spending days in bed writhing in the kind of pain that makes botulism or ebola look Fischer Price. Sometimes it’s to reduce my risk of certain cancers. Viruses. You don’t know. You can’t you bastards. I am a woman and you are not.
I can not countenance five greasy old academic males deciding any of this shit. It’s none of their business.
None at all.
I am a woman.
I would make each of you pregnant tomorrow morning if I could.
Or, I would visit the menstrual cycle upon each of you if I could.
Then we would see who the women are.
That would be awesome.
I am a man speaking for women.
Drinks for my friends.
Maybe the whole idea with all this new abortion legislation without exceptions for rape and incest etc. could be about the crusty old white conservative douchenozzles not being able to reproduce or even get laid any other way.
How else does it make sense?
If they can’t reproduce, they can’t propagate or indoctrinate. If they can’t rape their cousins, sisters, aunts or random children, they have no chance of winning elections long term. See, otherwise they’re done getting laid.
Should we admire them for this? Their only long term strategy?
“Is you is, or is you ain’t, my constituency?”
I mean they’ve alienated everyone else.
If men could get an abortion, not pregnant mind you, just an abortion, they would be free and absent controversy. There would be abortion days at the mall. Thursdays. Don’t ask don’t tell. Absolute privacy. Provider/impregnator privilege.
We wouldn’t be having this conversation.
Same scenario with contraception.
These people aren’t pro life. They are pro birth. After the child is born, they can’t be bothered to give a mad fuck about it. They vote against every single thing that could potentially benefit every single child they insist be born under far less than ideal circumstances. No welfare, no food stamps, no health care, no unemployment benefits, no clean air, no clean water, no safe food, no education, no pension, no union, no nothing.
Once the child comes of age, incarcerate it for the prison industrial complex it or make it cannon fodder for the military industrial complex.
They adore capital punishment.
It is the apogee of hypocrisy.
A breathtakingly disingenuous intellectual ballet.
So I ask myself why. Why are they so vehement? Why are they so goddamn self righteously angry at women? They are very angry. Really pissed off. But that’s not it. What they are is afraid. Afraid of women. Afraid of slightly more than half the of the human population. Fear is a great force multiplier. They fear their power, their wisdom and ultimately their independence. They understand that women afforded power will hasten their marginalization, their obsolescence, their extinction.
Because they have marginalized themselves. Because they pursue obsolescence with abandon and because they actively romance extinction.
You can smell the desperation when they pass draconian laws, when they make it impossible for clinics that provide a myriad of other essential family health services to stay open. When they murder doctors who merely seek to keep women from resorting to coat hangers in alleys.
The hubris, it burns.
Here’s the deal. Just because I’m pro choice doesn’t mean I’m pro abortion. It’s none of my goddamn business. I am somehow fortunate enough to possess a modicum of humility. A whiff of intelligence and compassion. Just enough of these things to understand, to realize, that it’s none of my fucking business at all unless I’m the father. And then my say would be limited because I can’t know the import of what I would ask. I would be secondary and I would understand that.
Nobody can know but the woman in question and I’m beyond convinced that this issue does not belong in our male dominated corridors of power.
This issue has no place in the hands of any men not irrevocably involved in the outcome.
The pride they approach this with disgusts me. They presume to know better about something they can’t possibly have a clue about. I know because I’m a man and I have no idea.
They are that spec of fecal matter at the back of my toilet bowl. The one that appears between scrubbings. That brown dot I’m constantly trying to dislodge with my ultra powerful racehorse urine stream.
It is my sincere hope to piss you fuckers off.
Drinks for my friends.
As you may or may not know, I like to pick fights with the willfully ignorant on facebook. It’s a hobby. I usually find myself punching down, but occasionally I discover an articulate, well informed whack job capable of civil and cogent discourse. I love that.
I totally salute all three of you.
Inevitably, when I confront them with facts and logic, the catapulting of invective ensues. I find myself at the receiving end of insults entirely predictable. Remarkably consistent. They call me a “libtard”, and gasp, “socialist” and even worse, “communist”.
Every fucking time I ask them to define “socialist” or “communist”, the crickets begin to swang. Not one of these goofcocks actually has any idea what these “isms” actually are or what they mean.
It represents a profound ideological perversion and it’s disturbing. McCarthyism revisited. Short attention span theater. No room for history.
Guess what? I must be a low down dirty dog socialist because I have enough common sense to realize that capitalism, without the necessary ballast of socialism, or regulation, ends up being fascism. Thank dog for socialism. Sorry, three more isms for your consumption and edification.
I can always count on the word socialism launching at the mere mention of Obama. T minus three seconds and counting. In the context of stratospheric stock market indexes, record CEO compensation, all time high worker productivity and the inertia of wages for the middle class, Obama is a pretty miserable goddamn socialist.
Republicans and teabillies alike are more than willing to ignore that without regulation, our food, air, water and energy would be killing us all far more often and far more egregiously.
They would have Christianity solve all that for us.
It highlights the common malaise of intellectual laziness that is the paradigm for the right these days. To them it’s the political equivalent of calling me a cocksucker. I can almost feel the hot moist spittle of their vitriol. They are as pissed as any self aware species courting guaranteed extinction should be.
Wrinkly old white dudes.
I’ve known plenty of them.
Nevermind that term is an actual slur on its own. More troubling is the catalyst of polarization it manifests as. The notion that conservatism and liberalism, two more isms, are at war is a distraction. It makes it really easy to say that.
I’ve said it a hundred times. Put 50 democrats in a room with 50 republicans and they will agree on at least 80% of the issues. But, they will spend all their time arguing over the remaining 20%
Both parties are guilty, but I’m getting really tired of the false equivalency. Is that equivalency Bernie Sanders, Liz Warren and Grayson on the left compared to Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio and Sarah Palin on the right? I doubt it. The right makes it so much worse by casually tossing these terms around and by embracing religion as a litmus test. We all live with socialism. It serves us. You know, the fire department, the library, social security. None of us aspire to or admire communism and it’s just ridiculous to accuse liberals of fascism when the right so ardently foments theocracy.
Drinks for my friends.
Sometimes I can hear a song for days, I can replay it in my head, in stereo, over and over for a week. After that I need a refresher. So I listen to that song on the world’s best stereo. I happen to own the world’s best stereo.
I can taste it. I can see it. I smell it. It has texture.
I can touch it without touching it.
I assumed everyone was like this.
What’s up with these assholes who want to sport lethal firepower in the toy aisle at Target? What makes a man think that’s cool? I’m sure boys do. You know they do it because they think it’s cool. Boys that aren’t men and men that are boys. What if I wandered into a Walmart with just road flares strapped to my legs brandishing a Zippo? Would you be okay with that? What if I promised it wasn’t dynamite, pointed out there were no fuses?
I mean I’m obviously unhinged. Right?
If mall security isn’t all over me already, You’re dialing 911 and pissing your pants and leaving.
What if the communists go after the shopping centers first? The open carrier will die in an explosion that melts his pea shooter into a stick skinnier than his dick.
This is dumb.
Look. I’m not anti gun. The second amendment has clearly been misinterpreted but I’m not here to take your guns away and neither is anyone else. It’s not happening and it’s not going to.
So grow up. Don’t take your guns to town Wayne.
I’m not a fan of public displays of affection. It occurs to me this is a public display of fear and panic. Fear and panic should not be displayed publicly. If you need to take a gun to the grocery store, you’re a dick and you shouldn’t be able to own a gun. That should be the first question on the test.
DO YOU FEEL THE NEED TO WEAR A SEMI AUTOMATIC RIFLE TO ANY LOCAL RETAIL STORE?
If the answer is yes……….
Drinks for my friends.
“The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel.” -Horace Walpole.
What the fuck is wrong with us?
Congress refuses to help people out of the mess they made. Unemployment for 1.3 million families abruptly revoked from families who’d much rather have a goddamn job that pays more than $7.25 an hour. 4 or 9 million by the end of the year, depending on what you read. We spend how many times as much on defending, promoting and even subsidizing the most profitable industry in the history of humankind who, by the way, would have us believe it’s perfectly okay to drink flammable tap water?
West Virginians can’t drink their water but a poll reveals they don’t blame the company that poisoned it.
I get no pleasure out of anything anymore. I don’t look forward to anything.
That’s not true.
25 songs I want to hear today.
Ode to Billy Joe (Bobby Gentry), Back in Black (AC/DC), Junebug Vs. Hurricane (Lucinda Williams), Shadowboxer (Fiona Apple), Sultans of Swing -live version (Dire Straits), Bloody Well Right (Supertramp), Funk 49 (Joe Walsh), Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes (Paul Simon), Walk and Talk Like Angels (Toni Childs) She Talks To Angels (Black Crows) My Hero (Foo Fighters), Big Iron (Marty Robbins), Ice Cream Man (Van Halen), The Zoo (Scorpions), Barricuda (Heart), Wichita Lineman (Glenn Campbell), Boy Named Sue (Johnny Cash), Tommy the Cat (Primus), Life Without You (Stevie Ray Vaughn), Dragon Attack (Queen), When The Levy Breaks (Led Zeppelin), Imagine (John Lennon), I will Always Love You (Whitney Houston), Roll With The Changes (REO Speedwagon), Rock Candy (Montrose).
What this is, is a vulgar display of abject prowess. A tragedy. A mash up of unused ideas that weren’t going anywhere but sounded pretty good.
Bear with me.
There was this zaftig woman once with bleach blond hair who french kissed me in a glass elevator at the Tropicana in Vegas. It was awesome. I kissed her back. I saw it coming. She telegraphed all of it. I ended up in her room much later and told her to leave her bra on because it was white and her tits looked fantastic in it. She had a great tan and her bikini lines were above the cups. She was very sweet and accommodating. I think her name was Tammy. Wow. She gave me her card and a warm damp towel.
I never had any contact with her again.
We as a country, insist on making stupid people famous.
I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of suicide. Really hard to prepare for. Afraid of all the solutions. Despite there seeming to be a good reason to do it every day, I’m resigned to the fact that I will probably die before I really want to anyway. Now I tell myself I shoulda ended it that day when the supreme court masturbated in public or that day a year or so ago, when congress forced it’s mottled penis in the ear of an innocent weeping kitten.
I have found that one thing women I’ve had anything to do with have in common is a beyond casual, often profound appreciation of quality bread products. Garlic knots. Toast points. Fresh, yeasty, aromatic loaves. With rosemary and garlic. In fact, I’ve never myself had sincere fondness for a woman who’d no less than swoon over a fragrant crusty loaf and the availability of various oils, tapenades and condiments for the dipping, immersion and unctuous slathering.
Chicks are sensual. So are cats. I find myself surrounded by estrogen and femininity.
The real problem is this. We used to be the most powerful nation in the world. We are still the mightiest and the wealthiest nation in the world. By virtue of those things, our corporations are the most dominant in the world. And those corporations have left America behind. It’s truly a global economy and America doesn’t matter nearly as much as she used to. American companies have decided that.
Maybe I should become a luthier and a socialist.
I get up in the morning and regardless of the success of my sleep cycle there is juice. Tomato, apple, cran-grape, orange, Gatorade and often something flavored with blueberry and or citrus. We’re big on juice. So we bought a juicer. Now I make all kinds. One day a week I buy a couple bags of good organic produce and grind it into liquid.
While I do this I look for and listen to records I’ve forgotten about.
I check my email. We’re still bombing Yemen and governor Christie is such an asshole that he’ll never even be elected dog catcher and Beyonce shows some thigh in a breathtaking seasonal frock while her sister beats up her husband in an elevator.
I think Jennifer Hudson was way hotter when she was “fat”. She did that because bitches were jealous.
Maybe I should become a luthier and a socialist.
Who the fuck is Justin Beiber?
Why do you need more ID to vote in red states than to buy a gun or even liquor?
Why do people care more about who gets medicare/food stamps/unemployment/abortion than who gets a gun?
Why do most pro life people assume that if you’re pro choice, you’re pro abortion? Why can’t they understand that all it means is there is a modicum of humility and a great deal of common sense in our understanding that it’s just none of our goddamn business?
I contemplate the living room from different angles. I talk to myself. I talk to bathroom. Then I contemplate the bathroom. I conclude we need a hamper and shelves. I just like shelves. We don’t really need them. The toilet is pretty dirty. So is the sink. We could use a hamper.
Maybe I should become a luthier and a socialist.
I contemplate the kitchen and how there is no such thing as too much counter space.
We bought a new broom. We needed one for the linoleum.
When I can longer decide if I’m insane or getting a real grip on things, when I just have no idea, when epiphanies begin to pop like those old instant flash bulbs on cheap cameras that leaked blue foam all over the smooth foil hemispheres they came nestled in……………..
When all else fails, I get in the shower and begin my ritual. I avoid it because it is my most introspective zone. It is here my future and past collide. I shave and wash and scrub. Where did I go wrong? My torso is immense. Where do I go from here? My legs seem to atrophy. I wonder if this is cancer. My mother grows more alone by the day. I spare no yoga when cleaning my trunk and my junk. Maybe this infection isn’t as bad as the last. My sciatica seems to be better because of my new shoes. I have a toothache and just got insurance.
I recenter the bath mat.
I’m a salesman.
It’s an excellent product.
It saves lives.
It’s cheaper than a cable or cell phone bill.
They just want to see the fucking brochure.
If I emerge from the shower and my youngest kitty is there to yell at me while not looking at me……… she just asks what into space. I assume it will be a good day.
She cracks me up.
I take stock.
I have a family. There is love. They care about me and I care about them. They love me and I love them.
I count my blessings.
A very dear friend said to me not long ago in an airport lounge that she would obtain a bottle of pills and that would be it. If it got bad, she meant. If it got to be too much she meant. She’d just take the whole bottle. She looked me in the eye when she said said it.
She saw me.
I saw her.
That blue foam goes cold just a minute after the bulb pops.
“To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?” -The Bard
I just can’t stand it.
I think I still have potential.
Drinks for my friends.
It is not the intent of this author to condone, sponsor or foment violence of any kind on any animal or human.
Let’s say the republican approaches you with Benghazi on its lips.
Here’s what you do.
If the republican is male and you’re right handed, raise your left thumb and say “See my thumb?” Then ball up your right fist and hit them as hard as you can in the mouth. Then say “Gee, you’re dumb.”
Left handed people use the opposite hands respectively.
As the republican tries to get up, and if they are male, kick them hard enough in the torso so they land face up and ask them what the names of the four dead Americans they care so deeply about are.
As the republican gasps for air and looks at you with complete confusion, produce a world map without anything but borders, no text, and demand the republican show you where Benghazi is.
When the republican can’t, commence urinating on the republican.
Offer the republican a warm damp towel and a comfortable place to sit. Show some compassion for fucks sake. The republican probably isn’t evil, merely stupid, brainwashed or willfully ignorant. Ask the republican why they are so much angrier with the administration than the people who actually killed the four Americans.
When two women are the scenario, there is the option to bitch slap the republican or move immediately to the interrogatory. Pissing flurry is also optional. Male democrats when confronting female republicans should definitely move directly to the interrogatory.
Do not clean the appliance with water when still connected to an electrical source.
Once the republican is comfortable, put on your warmest and most sincere face and remind them that there were thirteen such attacks under the last president. 60 dead.
Remind the republican that in one such attack under Reagan over two hundred marines perished. Remind the republican that under Reagan at least, fingers were pointed at the people who carried out the attack. Not Reagan. Not the head of any intelligence agency. Nobody even questioned Bush despite the wars he and his administration lied to get us into, that ultimately cost 4,500+ lives.
Wars that actually opened the proverbial door for such virulent ant-American sentiment.
Wars that led to Benghazi!
Point out that in the last hour, more people have died in states where republican governors have refused to expand medicare/medicaid.
Just in the last hour.
Gently cover one of their hands with one of yours and explain, in a soft paternal voice, that they’ve been duped. Describe in as much detail as necessary, that if the republican party had a single policy or issue to run on that Benghazi wouldn’t occupy a single rung on the ladder of contemporary political discourse. Do your best to illustrate how championing Benghazi merely reveals how they have not a single other thing with which to gin up the base.
The rest of us it see it for what it is.
Hillary will run.
Obamacare is working and therefore a complete bust. They got nothing there. Folks be getting happier.
It’s been litigated in the court of public opinion and before congress about ten goddamn times already and even prominent republicans like Buck McKeon, chairman of the armed services committee said, “I think I’ve pretty well been satisfied that given where the troops were, how quickly the thing all happened and how quickly it dissipated, we probably couldn’t have done more than we did,” And, “The Armed Services Committee has interviewed more than a dozen witnesses in the operational chain of command that night, yielding thousands of pages of transcripts, e-mails, and other documents. We have no evidence that Department of State officials delayed the decision to deploy what few resources DoD had available to respond.”
Members of the families have contacted Nancy Pelosi asking that it not be revisited again. Republicans cut funding for embassy security despite democratic warnings that it would jeopardize diplomats and personnel.
And if you happen across Darrell Issa on the sidewalk or in front of a nice cafe, feel free to vomit down the back of his shirt. Try to get some on his actual head. He’s been doing it to you for years and here’s where I believe in an eye for an eye, vomit for vomit.
No republicans were harmed in the writing of this blog. The author is a pacifist and has not struck another human being in anger or self defense for nearly three decades and does not advocate any such violence no matter how incredibly fucking stupid the antagonist may be. The author is joking and engaging in fantasy and wishful thinking. The author does strongly recommend the usage of arguments and common sense provided. The author does endorse the vituperative action of hawking a loogie upon the conclusion of the confrontation to underscore disgust and disdain for the idiocy of the republican.
This shit is breathtakingly ridiculous.
The republican preoccupation is morbid and vulgar.
The author of this blog is far more fearful of huge grasshoppers than any spider.
Drinks for my friends.
Mildred: Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?
Johnny: Whadda you got?
-The Wild One 1953
I used to be young and idealistic. Now I have no idea what to make of it. It’s not even policy or ideology anymore. It’s dogma fueled brinkmanship. Or, it’s a board game, but not chess. Whatever it was, it has devolved into Chutes and Ladders. Tic Tac Toe.
Let’s talk a little about the contemporary republican party.
They are now absurd. They get all air raid shrill on the very issues that are their demise. It confuses me. Social issues because they cannot get any traction politically? Then political because there’s no traction socially?
Thrashing with no embarrassment in sight.
So now we have about thirty state legislatures presided over by republican governors swinging ham fisted haymakers at the voting rights of minorities, women and anyone likely to vote democrat. There’s only one reason to do this. The GOP is no longer capable of winning a fair election because they are courting extinction. I’ve been saying it for years. What you’re seeing is a last grasp.
There is no animal more dangerous than a wounded one. There is no political party more formidable than one staring at its own departure. And they’re starting to figure out it’s by their own device.
Everyday in this country we vigorously debate climate change and evolution simultaneously. Abortion and the death penalty. We actually debate whether or not our tap water being flammable is a bad thing.
What I’m fascinated by these days is the brokeback reaction by the GOP to all progress. As in no fucking way to anything. I’m not surprised, definitely disgusted but still fascinated. Take marriage equality. Yet another right wing bastion of dogmatic christian conservatism falters because of just how fucking bubble ignorant they have become. Public opinion on this issue continues to burgeon opposite of their favor and their response is to foist unconstitutional legislation prohibiting it and every other attempt at decency.
And they keep losing.
Then there’s the ONE thing they always win.
Let’s talk a little about gun nuts.
We’re not talking about the normal, less than paranoid ones that just want to be able to own firearms. To potentially protect themselves and loved ones against evildoers. People who enjoy the visceral kick of an honest to god could kill a man, handheld appliance. I’m a liberal who likes guns. I grew up with them.
Who I mean is all that have visions of firing on our own army in the streets dancing in their heads. Them that can’t but help themselves to civil war drama. Jack asses thinking they would have a fat chance if it came to that today. I mean the ones devoting their daydreaming hours to a race war. This shit is really ringing my bell these days. NRA Fire is on scene and everybody is wobbling clueless and afraid.
All the jiptards are imploding.
We can’t even talk about it.
We can’t or won’t even talk about mental health or serotonin drug history. Whether people awaiting trial or those of us on a terrorist watch list should be eligible. We are paralyzed on this issue because of a douchenozzle lobbyist named Wayne LaPierre.
Far longer than the last six years they’ve been marching in lockstep under threat of some democrat king taking their pea shooters. Now it’s Obama. And yet it hasn’t happened. The American right is having a turbo charged, steroid fueled identity crisis. Because the apocalypse has not occurred as forecast.
So this is what you get. This is why you’re seeing what you’re seeing. This is how Cliven Bundy is allowed any real estate in the cable news cycle; because the tea party wing of the GOP needs a hero and there just aren’t any.
You tell me.
These are the very people who have been foisting the “takers vs, makers” bullshit on us for the years. Cliven Bundy is the kind of guy they want us all to hate. They champion a wealthy rancher for essentially not paying his taxes and using public property for personal profit because he doesn’t recognize the authority of the federal government. He is, by their own definition, a “taker”. A deadbeat sucking of the government teat. Can you say shameless hypocrite? Can you say disingenuous asshole wrapping himself in the flag of a government whos authority he chooses not to recognize?
Is it ironic that his strings are being pulled by the people who would love nothing more than for the federalies to fill him full of holes? Does he understand the Koch brothers were involved in propagating his charade?
Despite a complete lack thereof, they found a reason to muster. To gather. To rattle muskets and sabers.
And then there’s the company misery like this attracts. Richard Mack. You can’t make these assholes up. “We were actually strategizing to put all the women up at the front. If they are going to start shooting, it’s going to be women that are going to be televised all across the world getting shot by these rogue federal officers.” -TeaParty Taliban Leader Richard Mack.
How does anyone, regardless of ideological bent, suffer such an amoral fucktard?
There are those in the false equivalency vortex who would argue that these jackwagons in the Nevada desert are no different than the Occupy movement because of their allegedly shared anti-government platform. What these imbeciles just don’t get is the Occupy movement stakes its claim on the notion that big business and big government enjoy an appalling abundance of comity, collusion and cooperation as opposed to some form of antagonism on behalf of ordinary citizens. There’s that and the fact that they show up unarmed because they’re quite aware that bristling with the latest high powered weaponry may likely result in someone getting their head blown off, a media blackout and then a full blown cover up.
See, they’re just smarter.
The feds back off. Wisely. Better no blood spilled. The God, guns and liberty coalition declares victory. They compare themselves to badgers defeating bears. Grizzlies. Badgers. Sheezus. What the fuck?
This is what they take away from all this?
Liberty they screech. Liberty. Is liberty not paying your fair share? Is liberty using our land for your product and pocketing the profit?
I’m driving slowly by a freeway conflagration so hot it makes my forehead burn through tinted windows up and the air conditioning blasting. I don’t see Jesus anywhere.
I wonder at this. I puzzle over it. What I conclude is that they’ve gotten dumb. They used to be organized. Unified. Consistently on message. They have lost their way. Because they hate each other as much as the rest of us. They eat their own. They are dissolving. It’s actuarial. Inevitable.
The implosion will be televised.
That there is what I call a harbinger.
No matter what party you belong to, trust me when I tell you this means trouble for just about all of us. The whole focus now is on being primaried as opposed to anything that means shit because of dramatic and shameless gerrymandering in every county south of north. Citizens United. Abrupt, unprecedented and glaring concentration of wealth. Way too many roundheads fear someone with an even rounder head than their own constituents.
See, the GOP is the example, the paradigm for what is wrong with the whole system. They just beat us to it by being stupider, but we’re all stupid. What we need to do is heed their example. They’ve given us a gift. We need to look that gift very hard in the mouth.
Drinks for my friends.
[nig-erd-lee] Show IPA
Racism is alive and well in America. But it’s not your father’s racism. It’s yours. It manifests differently. Just as overt. Just as insidious. Just as evil and just as frustratingly ignorant.
The scourge of contemporary racism seems to be that we elected a black president and therefore it’s over. As in, wow, the Kenyan without a birth certificate got elected what more do you want? So now we are somehow post racial. Um, okay…. Hate groups on the rise, particularly in the south. Protesters waiving the confederate flag in front of the president’s house. Brandishing signage with hilariously tragic spelling depicting him as a witch doctor, a bone through his nose, he and his wife as primates. Terrible Ted Nugent says in public: “I have obviously failed to galvanize and prod, if not shame enough Americans to be ever vigilant not to let a Chicago communist-raised, communist-educated, communist-nurtured subhuman mongrel like the ACORN community organizer gangster Barack Hussein Obama to weasel his way into the top office of authority in the United States of America.”
We are so post racial.
I thought Bill Clinton was the first black president.
Here’s a bitter truth: Not all republicans are racist but like it or not, most racists are republicans.
A colleague said to me the other day, “why can’t they just get over it?” Because we have a bi-racial president? Why can’t they just get over it? Somehow in light of that, “they” should just forget hundreds of years of slavery, rape, cruelty, abuse, degradation, discrimination, segregation, exclusion, bias, torture, murder, persecution, exploitation and egregious debasement. Why is it they just can’t get over being pissed upon and shat upon, imprisoned and disenfranchised? All made possible with actual legislation. Unconscionable legal charter and statute enacted and enforced by the white ruling class. Why can’t they just wake up tomorrow and say they’re cool with white people? Why do they have to act that way? Why don’t they just surrender their identity and blend in?
Because we have an optically darker commander in chief, we should put this all behind us. Because slavery ended over a hundred years ago.
The new racism is pretending it’s not there. The new racism is people who do not know they are racist.
Or those who lack self awareness so completely.
Still, they go after it hard. All of it. Anybody not resembling the pasty white, smug, shit eating smirker they see in the mirror during the morning constitutional and shave. Women’s health =”feminazis”. Immigration =”wetbacks”. Voting rights =”niggers”. Saber rattling =”rag heads”. They do this because they got their asses handed to them twice by a black president despite their best and most mendacious efforts. They hate it. They are threatened. They are afraid and they know these are the issues that will rile up the base, the womenfolk and the kids. They know these issues are toxic. These are issues they gerrymandered, issues they manipulated, issues they fucked with in one way or another over and over.
But still, issues they can’t defend or reconcile under the antiseptic light of day. And when the lamp clicks on at night, they scatter or obfuscate like amateur street performers caught cheating rubes and slobs and fools.
These are issues that will guarantee their demise but they can’t help themselves. Because they hate and fear. Because that’s what they are fed. By the media and institutional indoctrination. By fucking religion. Dogma. Jesus was white. Santa is white. They are beginning to understand that they are actively courting extinction. They see the inevitability of being caught in the trap they set.
There are no more racists in the world than there were before 2008 but they have boiled to the top. They are furious and and desperate now.
I know them.
You know them.
We all do.
You all are pretty easy to spot.
You talk, you say it out loud, you give the examples of Colin Powell, Condoleeza Rice, Muhammed Ali, etc. and you say, if these blacks could rise to the top then why can’t the rest of them? Like they can’t because the rest of them are stupid, incapable somehow despite the inequity of advantage afforded them. You say this like you believe they are not an exception even though it’s obvious you believe they are. You say this with a straight face and it makes me furious because you will never know the obstacles they encounter everyday, much less what the average person of color is up against relative to your own experience. You will never know and you pretend we’re all treated equally when you fucking know we’re not. When you open your mouth to say this shit, I hate you for it. Not because you don’t understand, but because you don’t even try.
You have friends who go to great lengths to explain you to each other. People who hope you mean well but lament your lack of understanding. People who are embarrassed by you but apologize to each other because of you. All these people are in your life and smile at you every day. They want to like you, but they can’t. They still offer you a friendly face and do their best to be civil to you. But they hate the the things you say and do because it’s so painful to them that you refuse to understand because you don’t care enough to try. They wish they could make you see them, and not merely what you think is their plight, what you think is their ascription to victimization. Most of them have given up on ever hoping you can. Some of them even try to love you, to excuse you, because you see yourself as a real American and somehow a defender of liberty and the pursuit of happiness or what the fuck ever. They bend over backwards to give you the benefit of the doubt. They want to believe that you at least mean well. They hope you’re noble in some way but they can’t stand the things that come out of your mouth, and they try really hard to afford you some yardage because they hope you’re sincere in some way that you never demonstrate. You always let them down. You always disappoint. Always. They hope you are not what they see, but they see you nonetheless. They hope the generosity and compassion you exhibit otherwise means you’re not that big of an asshole.
They are wrong. You are a fucking bigot. A racist. I pity you for it and so should they.
You are the new racist.
Same as the old one.
Because you hate yourself. Because you’re so afraid of everyone else because you know they are the same as you. Because you imagine you have the advantage and you cling with such fierce and angry desperation to the idea that you are somehow privileged. Because you believe you are somehow entitled. You’re not. We see that. We try not to hate you for it. But it’s one hell of a stretch. Goddamn you make it hard.
What we do hate, without reservation, is that you refuse to accept that we are all the same. What we hate is that you know that if all people, regardless of race, creed or color, were afforded equal opportunity and evaluation, you know you would be forced to confront that truth. What we really hate, is that you frantically engage in every possible activity to undermine that truth. What we hate is that you hate yourself so much that you do it all so willingly, so ignorantly, so shamelessly, so blindly.
We hate that despite you knowing the truth, you still behave as though you don’t.
Drinks for my friends.
I find myself battling with the insouciant left more these days than with the ignorant right.
It bugs me.
It’s not that I don’t understand. Egregious acts against humanity every day. Business as usual. Drones. Corporate lawyers being appointed to the judiciary. No prosecution of the pigs at the financial industry trough. An all above posture on fracking and drilling and fossil fuel exploration along with token acknowledgements for clean energy like wind and solar. The TPP. I get it. I know.
I’m not an Obamabot or a democratic apologist. They like to call me that. Pretend I don’t know they’re greedy self serving bastards. Most of them. I’m aware of the corruption. The fuckery. The abject avarice and rampant mendacity. I know. I know.
What needs to be understood here is that this shit has been going on forever. The military industrial complex, corporate lobbyists, bullshit evangelical influence, good old boy horseshit…..it’s all been going on since long before Obama was even born. In America. In Hawaii.
What needs to be understood here is that he is one man. Not a king. But merely a president. A man who must labor under this massive construct, a system, a network, a cabal, far more than the sum of it’s parts and one that is far more of a convoluted behemoth than any lone commander in chief can aspire to suddenly and unilaterally reverse like a giant ship on a violently roiling sea.
He’s guilty. I’m pissed. Disappointed. Really wish he would have fought harder and been more resolute and goddamnit stronger, for the the things that are important to me. The the things I care about. The things you cared about. I hoped for change along with the rest of you.
But I am not naive. I understand for example, that he was not going to ride in on a rainbow colored unicorn, delicately place flowers in gun barrels, change water into the beverage of choice and poof, we’ve got universal health care. Single payer wasn’t going to fly. It was a non starter. It was the last time Hillary got her ass handed to her. As it was, it was a protracted affair that took the better part of a year. Even with a democratic house, a democratic senate and a democratic president, it was frustratingly arduous to watch. Long fought. Over wrought. And now we have the ACA. It’s the best we could have gotten. Now I have coverage when I need it most. Along with with millions of others. Millions of others who either couldn’t have ever afforded it or couldn’t ever have gotten it at any price.
No pre-existing conditions, no lifetime caps, no random cancellations or rate hikes, preventive care covered, affordable, insurance companies accountable for care provided as a percentage of profits. There are flaws, but it doesn’t suck. A start. An increment. Vermont has adopted single payer with the help of ACA funding. See?
California will most likely be next.
Here’s what chaps my ass about you people. You nattering nabobs of negativity on the left. Your reckless intent. You persist to subsume your cynical and callow whining into a movement that is both vital and fragile. You fail to understand or choose to ignore, the potential for good here. It’s actually a young movement with enormous possibility for the first time in a long time. You would destroy it from within. Opining childishly that he engages in all these nefarious things that all his predecessors have engaged in even more nefariously. Pissing and moaning that you didn’t get exactly what you want in exactly the way you wanted when it would have been stupid, stupid and naive to actually expect it to be delivered on the the silver platter with the crust off you somehow had the audacity to expect. You lefty wing nuts are literally as bad as, and as destructive as the goddamn tea party. In the meantime you jeopardize any possibility of moving forward by pissing all over beliefs, myths, facts, engaging in any action that would impede forward movement and yeah, hope for change.
In the public discourse now as we speak, are progressive topics. Topics like raising the minimum wage, gender and sexual identification equality, income inequality, concentration of wealth, equitable health care insurance, raising the minimum wage, social security and medicare……all of the progressive issues that have never been on the table before in this way or all at once. This is progress. This is big. The makers vs. takers debate is being turned on it’s head. We know that the one percent are the ones who really have their hands in our pockets and it’s on the table. The president of the united states is talking about it. People, constituents,voters are waking up. And you and yours just want us to think it’s all a ruse.
I’m really tired of this false equivalency bullshit. It’s intellectually lazy. To posit that right and left, democrat and republican, liberal and conservative are somehow two sides of the same coin is an insidious malaise of lassitude that threatens not only the sanctity of the process but the potential for voter participation across the board. It dissuades. It discourages.
Nevermind. There’s nothing you can do.
They’re all the same you wail. They’re all crooks and puppets. Well, no, not all of them. There is a difference and it is often profound. Whether it was Romney/Ryan or perish the thought, McCain/Palin, do you people really think the war in Iraq would have ended or the war in Afghanistan would be winding down? McCain is already rolling in his grave and he doesn’t know he’s dead. Do you think there even would have been an attempt at Wall Street reform? With Romney, who openly endorsed the failure of the auto industry? What about don’t ask don’t tell? How about kicking banks out of student loans? For the first time in 30 years we’re actually negotiating with Iran and Syria is allowing the destruction of their WMD. Credit card reform and a brand new agency dedicated to keeping American consumers from getting ripped off. The fair sentencing act. Cut the deficit in half. It’s a long and impressive list, virtually none of which would have happened under a republican administration.
And where are on the right are the equivalents of Bernie Sanders, Alan Grayson, Elizabeth Warren, Sherrod Brown, Elijah Cummings etc? Remember Dennis Kucinich and Russ Feingold?
MSNBC and FOX News are the same you snivel. Well, no they’re not. The both have an overt agenda but the similarities end there. FOX is indefatigably guilty of obfuscating, distorting, misrepresenting and outright lying to advance the score, but I challenge you to find any instances of MSNBC doing anything remotely similar. They actually take pride in facts and truth. They simply don’t need to make shit up.
Despite all of the above, the wingnut left pusillanimously insists on forsaking the good in the name of the unattainable perfect. That, really chaps my ass.
So have at it lefty wing nuts, throw your votes away on Nader ( a good man) or whomever the contemporary green party messiah is but do the rest of us a favor, grow up and shut up and allow the rest of us to work for change pragmatically within the existing jacked up structure as opposed your Monday morning quarterback, peanut gallery bleating and carping. We don’t want to hear it. Nobody wants to hear it. It accomplishes nothing. We don’t need you to tell us what a clusterfuck it is. We’re well aware, appropriately disgusted and simultaneously optimistic about the transformation we’re witnessing. Your sky may be falling but we can taste the progress.
The moral of the story is this: The hard left in American politics used to be vital and relevant. It served a purpose. As ballast, a counterweight to the extreme right, it served to exert a certain progressive gravity on the political center that was on a precipitous slide towards well, fascism, oligarchy and plutocracy. We needed it. Hell, we used to need the hard right until it so willingly marginalized itself. What the hard left has become however, is shrill, unreasonable and irrelevant. The new left has come to mirror the new right. Just as irresponsible and reckless. Just as unconcerned about actually effecting change. Beyond the new brand of vulgar vitriol and ugly invective, both sides of extremism have even begun to share language. “Obamabot” and “Kool Aid drinking democratic apologist”. Accusations of “white guilt”. Spooky. Why do they single out this president in particular? This president, who for any voter exercising his or her constitutional right to cast a ballot with eyes wide open knew it was for an essentially compassionate centrist and by far the lesser of two evils.
There’s an analog here. In much the same way that the election of the first optically biracial man to ascend to the presidency served as a catalyst to embolden and empower the particularly odious racist and bigots on the right, is it possible that catalyst has had a parallel effect on the extreme left?
Luke, I am your father.
Drinks for my friends.
I’ve never driven it. I never want to. It would be like pulling the curtain all the way to the side.
Here’s the deal. My significant other. My girlfriend. With whom I’m raising two children. Of the ages of nine and twelve. They ride around in a melting caramel of a car over hill and dale each and every day. There is no radio or air conditioning. There is no power steering.
It burns gas at a rate so alarming that the horror really manifests only when one understands the amount of oil it must be quenched with. The automobile in question is a 1991 Lexus 400 LS. LS stands for Luxury Sedan. Yeah. My woman owns and operates this car. Tanklike in countenance. It has been melting at some certain rate since before the internet came into it’s own. The mechanic made it clear there is no practical way to staunch it’s bleeding of life sustaining lubricants.
Some day it will bleed out.
It’s a large vehicle and she is petite. She appears as a muppet behind the wheel. Elbows above her head.
I cannot describe to you the contents of this vehicle accurately because on any given day it’s diversity is so volatile. Always textbooks and notebooks and backpacks, pens, pencils. Fast food cups and wrappers and sauce packets and burger boxes. Sundries like toilet paper or paper towels or canned beans, jello and yogurt, juice containers, water bottles in various stages of empty, tissues and napkins, cleats and socks.
A perpetually blinking instrument panel.
The passenger seat always a shin deep sea of detritus, it snaps and crackles when I position my feet. The back seat always hip deep in an ever changing ocean of flotsam and jetsam.
Every surface coated with sticky or oily or objectionable. Best to put your hands in your lap. I always feel like I’m riding in a petri dish.
The wind blows all days of the year in the car because it’s always too hot to operate without the windows down regardless of season. Napkins and styrofoam regularly hoovered out the windows by the constant vacuum. Receipts and candy wrappers, dust and mites, homework pages, fortunes from cookies, and sometimes paper currency, floating and pirouetting at eye level.
The sun hits the windshield when driving east in the morning or west in the afternoon and every eyeball in the cabin goes opaque because of the decades long assault by road debris.
Most interesting thing is the smell. It never smells like you might imagine. Not at all organic and rotting. In fact, it often smells good. Usually of lotions, hair products, perfumes and creams. Candles. Lip balm. Pastries even. It smells like girls. Girls smell good. At least the ones I’m fond of.
The entire mix becomes a maelstrom as the vehicle approaches 75-80 mph, a feat accomplished easily with a stomping of the accelerator. It’s engine remains robust as it roars and lurches us all back and forth with authority and aplomb. Still very fast. Still plenty of V8 power.
It rolls and rolls, on and on. Indestructible. One automobile, indefatigable, under God with liberty and justice for all.
What amazes me is they sing and they sleep. They do homework and they eat. On tablets, phones and kindles. They conduct all manner of the life cycle in that ocean of a backseat, in the melting maroon automobile. Hot as blazes. Sun beating in. Increasing the size and weight of the atmosphere tenfold. For hours every day. As they drive. While the car itself melts. Parts literally fall away. It drops the occasional pancreas or gallbladder and keeps on. Last time we had the brakes done, we had it’s appendix removed.
It’s a magical beast. It’s magical because I can’t believe it. It never fails. The girls sway back and forth with hair close behind across the backseat as mom steers through adversity and considerably less adept drivers. She does so expertly despite barely being able to see over the wheel or dashboard. She’s adept. I never really worry about them or myself in that car. It feels safe. Always. It’s no longer the original color of maroon. It’s now a sort of sun beaten burnt magenta. A rust hue, sort of sienna. Caramel. Melting. Impossibly slowly.
Drinks for my friends.
Dracula loves nothing more than fucking with time and space.
Dracula wonders why for fuck’s sake can’t they raise the ratio of peanuts to popcorn in Cracker Jack’s.
Dracula would happily pay more for this.
The other night, staggering drunk, Dracula bounced down the hall to the way too bright toilet and fouled the bowl with his own disgusting waste that reeked afterward like a grassy fetid swamp. Pulling from a plastic bottle of store brand Listerine he felt somewhat redeemed. A little less consumed with self loathing, he then turned to right wing radio and masturbated until his dick began to wrinkle and mottle.
Dracula loves staring at dogs in the elevator. Dracula lives in a tall building where more often than not there are dogs staring up at him in the elevator.
Dracula shows up to smack you around a little.
Dracula will pay you handsomely for your collectibles.
For Trick or Treat, Dracula hands out chili cheese dogs with mayonnaise, mustard and onion.
Dracula smells himself and is confused.
Dracula can really only identify with immigrant grocers and superheroes.
Dracula contemplates at first and later laments the sebaceous cysts on his nut bag.
Dracula languishes in a puddle of urine.
Hundreds of years ago, Dracula glimpsed a freak at a carnival beyond a tent flap parted by stiff wind and he flushed with warmth and excitement. So thrilled was he with knowledge that he was not alone in the world. That there were other odd people in the world. Other people who clamored for respect and belonging in a world that so emphasized glamor and sensation. A world so firmly ensconced in storybook endings and caviar dreams. A society that had consistently discarded him because of who he was and because of his diminutive stature and penis and because he wore a rather ridiculous cape. Dracula always takes the long way home.
Drinks for my friends.