Sunday, November 19, 2017

How To Say 'Fuck Off' 10 Different Ways

In a dog-eat-dog society there's nothing worse than a fellow dog needing help. But just because we are the assholes who dreamed up this nightmare world doesn't mean we want to come off as the assholes who dreamed up this nightmare. Can't pay your rent? "Fuck off!" It's the universal reply. But the compulsion to believe we're good people forces us to disguise our answers as we cheerily wave goodbye to our friends marched off to concentration camps.

So how to pretend to care when one really doesn't give a shit? There's an art to it, and if executed properly allows one to be cloaked in morality whilst giving the finger. Beautiful! Below are a few of my favorite examples I've heard while left dying in the road. It's good to know we think the best of ourselves and perhaps these phrases will come in useful in one's daily charade. Translation in parentheses.
  1. God can do anything! (So I don't need to do anything)
  2. Be optimistic. Things always work out in the end! (You'll be fed in debtor's prison)
  3. I have faith in you! (Especially after the cocksucker says you have to finish waxing the entire hallway in one night)
  4. Tomorrow is another day! (Of late rent fees)
  5. Surely, there's someone who can help! (i.e. anyone but me)
  6. We live in the greatest economic system in the world! (Must be something wrong with you)
  7. You should try asking them for mercy! (Because you'll get none from me)
  8. You should double check your situation. Maybe you're fine after all! (That will give me time to distance from you)
  9. Think of it as a character building experience! (I promise to attend your funeral after the suicide)
  10. People do win the lottery, ya know! (Fuck off)
See, the problem isn't too many mass shootings, but not enough. Take out 20-30% of the population and soon the message gets through we're all in this together regardless of any fake rules we make up that we pretend are life and death. In the meantime, have a nice day while dying!

Friday, November 17, 2017

If Groping Is Bad Then How Bad Is Rape?

Show me a capitalist and I'll show you a pervert!

With everyone getting up on their holier-than-thou hind legs recently I've yet to hear an inkling of an ethics panel grilling for the large scale rape of millions of people. Why is that? When did rape become OK? Of course, the real question is: when hasn't rape been OK?

These rapists shown above are animals, thieving monsters literally applauding and cheering the havoc and hell they hope to wreak. Just what does it say about us as a country we let people like this roam the streets freely? And if you think hikacking a person's money does not constitute rape, then let me educate you. Simply give up all your worldly wealth and let me know how that works out for you. Don't worry, you don't actually need to BECAUSE I ALREADY FUCKING KNOW! You will become an object of scorn and derision, outcast and dreamless, unable to support a family, your health and pain an afterthought, and your future forfeited. And this is a rape that does not end until you are dead.

"Many who are first will be last and many who are last will be first."

We are objectified from birth, commodities to be bought and sold on the open market. "Winners" bring a high price and "losers" bring a low price - or so we tell ourselves. Have you ever looked at the cells in your body and thought any one less important than another? Such is it for every soul on this planet. God help the poor ignorant bastard who thinks he or she is smart enough to determine who should have food and who should not. Because your sorry ass will be the first to starve in heaven. This may sound like philosophy to you now but the coming reality will strip every capitalistic bone out of your body - or die, thank God.

Like I said before, sex is the great exposer of just how phony our "morality" is. Show a dick to a child and we'll get out the torches in pretended righteous anger. Take away a sick child's healthcare to die in agony and all you get is some feckless barking from the edges. We don't give a fuck, we really don't. We're just going to ride this ship until it sinks no matter who suffers or dies along the way. We'll demonize sex and lionize rape - because naturally rapists equate sex with evil since that's what they know.

So posture all you want and win all the economic arguments of the fiction we've created and how selfishness is "reality" and all the rest of the brainwashed garbage you want to spew. Because you're going to eat it, bitch, getting double the shit you handed out. Laugh and applaud and cheer how your "side" has won, you kool-aid drinking morons. These are the worst of times with the worst yet to come. And by the time your own ass is due to face the unspeakable nightmare we've constructed it will be too late.

Fools will tell you to follow the money to understand human behavior but if you really want to know, follow the love. This mine eyes have seen.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

What would YOU ask Roy??

God bless Roy "the Boy" Moore, the one soul even the lowest of us can look down upon. Who knew a war-loving, greed based society could be filled with so many sexual deviants? And for as long as I can hide my own sexual sins I'm going to feign shock with the best of 'em. I'll have to if I'm to keep up with Roy Boy's ethics hearing before the Senate. I dunno, but when I see one weirdo being questioned by twenty other weirdos that's certainly a "What's wrong with this picture" moment for me. But I don't want to think about that too much as it spoils the fun.

While everyone lines up to throw that first rock, we must first have our incisive questions ready to go because, you know, inquiring minds want to know. An askroy!.gov website has been set up so the public can have input into the proceedings. The only rule is that every question must start with "Hey, Roy". Even Charles Manson on his deathbed got excited hearing Roy Boy speak, proclaiming he'd finally found a soul more craven than him. His question was quite unique: "Hey, Roy, have you ever had a hard-on for Hitler?"

Since this grave and moral proceeding will be under oath, certain questions do beg to be asked. Who knows? Maybe we'll find out Roy-baby is just like any other crazy uncle who's been banned from the mall for hitting on teenagers. Or maybe our high school sex education classes should include actual sex so kids won't grow up to be deviant D.A.'s in the future. In the interest of finding out just why guys are are so damn horny, I pulled ten questions out at random:
  • "Hey, Roy, have you ever got a date using a lollipop?"
  • "Hey, Roy, have you ever kissed a black woman Democrat and liked it?"
  • "Hey, Roy, can you tell us about your favorite farm animal and why?"
  • "Hey, Roy, have you ever changed a date's diapers?"
  • "Hey, Roy, have you ever fantasized about being abused by two angry lesbians with strap-ons?"
  • "Hey, Roy, why wouldn't you want to take my daughter to the prom?"
  • "Hey, Roy, have you ever been in a Turkish prison - and would you want to go back?"
  • "Hey, Roy, is self-respect a turn off?"
  • "Hey, Roy, have you ever wanted to walk naked through San Francisco with flowers in your hair?"
  • "Hey, Roy, are these questions making you HAWT???"
Regardless how things turn out, I think it's a fairly certain bet on what will be the hottest - and creepiest - Halloween mask next year - one sure to scare the hell out of trick-or-treaters!

Sunday, November 05, 2017

Is Lying Smart?

Polls really are fake news because people tell you what they want you to believe as opposed to what they actually believe. Luckily, I as a super-genius can cut through all that to get to the actual truth. See, we're all the same on the inside. The reality is there's no secrets and time is coming when we can no longer deny that. In the meantime we live in a hazy shade of grey - if one so chooses, that is.

So let's cut to the chase. Everyone - including avowed Trumptards - know that Dickhead Don is a pathological liar, a born loser, and a de facto foreign agent acting as the head of our government. This is known, if not admitted. Liars are like a child who holds his breath underwater and claims he can do that forever. Either he admits he's wrong or in time he dies. But until these people self-purge themselves from among us we have to listen to their howling hysteria and wild accusations.

If you're a soulless, habitual liar then nothing pleases you more than to see another soulless habitual liar win a popularity contest. But really, what's to be gained from that temporal moment? To have others to agree with your lies and to build on that Reich only traps you with your lies - buried alive - a favorite tactic of ISIS. So you see, Trumptards and ISIS have a lot in common! How many winners of the moment have gone done in permanent infamy in history?

"Is lying smart?" That's a question no liar wants to answer, for either he dooms himself by saying 'yes' or outs himself by saying 'no'. In fact, it reveals the level of a liar's self-delusion if he even attempts to answer. I'd love to see someone put that question to the Liar-in-Chief. He's probably dumb enough to answer!

But it's clear to the alleged supporters (as there are no real ones) of Queen Trumpy that they openly think lying is smart, that there's a thousand year future in it, and are delighting in the filth like a hog in mud. But even the dummy media is catching on to the con. I heard a reporter talking about how every time Caligula boy spewed forth another falsehood they'd all be scrambling away fact-checking only to find out "nobody cared", and that for Dear Leader "the truth is what you can get away with." Will be interesting to see how far they go down that line.

But there are many more lies than that to divest. Who really wants to give up the lie of -isms (capitalism, communism, socialism, etc), or the lie of money, or any other of the range of voodoo ritual religions we've concocted to "save" ourselves. We really are a silly people! If only I do [fill in the blank], I'm saved! Funny how that blank is never filled in with "listen to my conscience." That's why no one on either side of the aisle speaks with conviction - unless they're lying!

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Punchin' Judy

I punched her right in the face. Never done anything like that before in my life.

You're kidding.

After all that time! She thinks she's going to come up and talk to me?

Who does she think she is?

And she's got this smirk on her face too. Couldn't even hide it. Like she's being clever or something.

What could she have been thinking?

I'm sure something has gone wrong in her life so now she communicates. Fuck me the rest of the time. After all these years! All those nights crying and mornings grieving...

What happened after you punched her?

She couldn't believe it. She damn sure wasn't smirking anymore. I think she discovered she's not the only person on the planet with feelings.

Didn't she say anything?

What's there to say? Time for talk has long past. Time was when I'd of killed for just one word from her. But as long as she had her sweet set up she didn't give a damn about anyone or anything. I think she realizes she's on her own now and I'm not waiting on her in her back pocket anymore. Bitch.

So that's it?

Yes. She's saving face calling it a #MeToo moment but I think that's just funny. You can never forgive true love.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

General John "Yellow Belly" Kelly, Self-Described "Empty Barrel"

"Generals gathered in their masses,
"Just like witches at black masses"
- War Pigs

I've never suffered from military worship. I do understand there are killers in this world needing killing. The worst of those wear suits. But weapons and armies don't keep us safe. The only thing that makes anybody safe is a clear conscience. Otherwise there'll always be monsters under your bed just waiting for a fear-monger to come along and betray you. And if someone says they don't like my point-of-view and thusly refuses to "defend" me then by all means feel free to de-enlist. I highly encourage it.

General Yellow Kelly was right on the money describing himself as an 'empty barrel'. How else to explain one who uses the death of his own son to launch a smear campaign? I'm stunned that anyone could be so crass and misguided. Is that his idea of serving his country? I know I don't want that. Maybe there's some jackass out there that does. Maybe he thinks that jackass is his boss. His boss isn't the country, either. But then again, generals have lots of experience debasing themselves to get to where they are.

So educate me again when the truth does not suffice? That's the problem with the military, it rots your brain. The only way to exercise the mind is by free thinking. This guy, admittedly so, has hollowed himself out, actually believing he's lying and mimicking his boss's inadequacies for the greater good. Try not to laugh at him. He's a relic of his past. I wonder when he started turning his back on free will. Why is it no one ever says love is for the greater good? Because love is the only truth.

But the real solution here is how to fill Johnny boy's empty barrel?!? He needs our help!

We could fill it with monkeys...

Or flowers that are funky...

Or maybe he'd like whiskey!

Or a girl who says, "Lick me!"

But any way you look it
His head is really crooked.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

Paul's Four Most Underrated Beatle Songs

My consciousness of the Beatles was very limited when John's death occurred. But it was that event that triggered my exploration of and now undying devotion to all things Beatles (and Lennon). Sirius XM came out with an all Beatles channel a few months ago and it has been wonderful not with just the songs but with the snippets in between of Beatles trivia and guest hosts like Don Henley and Billy Joel breaking down Beatles songs. Another feature is for regular fans to call in with their four favorite songs and give a little spiel as to why. I could never pick just four songs.

So I made up another category of four underrated songs by Paul. Maybe I'll find some variations on this in the future. John always said Paul was a vastly underrated bass player and even though Paul could be shallow in his lyrics at times, other times he soared in ways people also don't give due recognition. I'll attempt to correct that oversight today.

I'll present these in chronological order. Note that original studio Beatles songs are banned on YouTube.

Things We Said Today (July 1964)

You say you'll be mine, girl
Till the end of time
These days such a kind girl
Seems so hard to find
Someday when we're dreaming
Deep in love, not a lot to say
Then we will remember
Things we said today

I was shocked the first time I heard this song written so early in the Beatles catalog as the final song on "A Hard Days Night". I felt Paul found a haunting corner of everyday life and beautifully expressed it. His emphasis on communication is thematic throughout his Beatle career, most notably in "We Can Work It Out". Here he sees the future rooted in words spoken this day while acknowledging in the melody a certain melancholy. It reaches an ancient sorrow brought to light. As Beatle songs predate human history, who knows what corner of the universe that came from. No matter how many times I hear it, I can never get to the bottom of it.

Fixing A Hole (May 1967)

And it really doesn't matter if
I'm wrong I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong

A while back I saw in the theater a documentary on the making of Sgt. Pepper's. This guy has broken down other Beatles albums as well and I especially looked forward to this one. He did, however, skip over a few songs, one of those being "Fixing A Hole". I thought that was outrageous. I think the lyrics above to be a moment of clarified genius expressing the futility of arguing reality. Beatle Paul could step outside of himself sometimes and make these wonderful observations. "When he wanted to, he could think." (John referring to Paul). This song forced me to realize I could be right or wrong about the shape of the earth but my place on it remains the same. That was a relief.

Fool On The Hill (November 1967)

Day after day, alone on the hill
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
But nobody wants to know him
They can see that he's just a fool
And he never gives an answer

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning around

Yes, this is considered a classic but is still not properly appreciated. Paul paints the picture of a "wise" fool and I love that seeming contradiction. I feel people for the most part are a little disturbed by the vision of a wise fool spying on them, seeing them for what they are, never answering their demands. So this song is not embraced as it should be. Though maybe not conscious of it, Paul is speaking of every artist ever born, observing and smiling like a Cheshire cat who never tells you why. Lennon also liked this song and whenever I hear it I want to expand it into a film and explore it deeper.

You Never Give Me Your Money (Recorded May 1969)

Out of college, money spent
See no future, pay no rent
All the money's gone, nowhere to go
Penny jobber, got the sack
Monday morning, turning back
Yellow lorry slow, nowhere to go
But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go
Oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go

Paul is sitting atop the Beatles mountain here knowing it's about to crumble. Only those four know what that was like. He was, in essence, homeless. To me, I imagine a person walking the streets with a special feeling inside he can't get out. It's a painful place to be and obviously not a sustainable way of life. I read where Paul no longer sings this stanza in concert when he does this song. I can understand why. He's left alone on the edge of the universe wondering if he's going to fall into the abyss. It's a horrible thought but I'm forever grateful he went there and captured it for all eternity.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

What About Ze Jews, Mein Kampf?

"Have I got a healthcare plan for you!"

Minister Josef called in his assistant.

"Heinrich, come look at this!"

Minister Goebbels was holding forth a newspaper article with his outstretched hand. "Did you see this? It's hilarious. This man makes these careful and painstaking points of all the contributions Jews have made to civilization. Must have taken him days!"

"Ah! He takes us seriously. How wonderful!" The assistant looked over the article. "Yes, yes, very factual and reasoned. What a moron! He fell right into your trap, Minister. We control his narrative and he obviously has zero faith in the public discerning the truth for themselves - just like us. Perfect!"

"Thank the Valkyrie gods for fools like this propping up our credibility, that we actually believe the filth we're peddling, making convenient enemies to be targeted. When will they learn? It's not the truth that counts, but the truth that sells that counts?"

"Hopefully never, great Minister."

"Let us use our translator to devise a response. First we start with the truth, of course, because we must first discern the truth in order to distort it."
A responsible and correct newspaper has pointed out the falsity of the campaign against the Jews by showing that, in fact, they are not the monsters we portray them to be but quite the opposite, as vital and precious members of society. The article demonstrates how much poorer our lives would be in their absence. This effort to spread truth reinforces the fabric of society and helps build a solid foundation for our future.
"Now we shall fix it by filling it in with our own crimes! Ha ha! This is fun!"
"The lying media is waging a campaign against the truth! We've uncovered yet another example of their filth peddled by a shameless editor. This sort of divisive propaganda must stop! This story leaves out important facts the newspaper does not want you to know! The ministry values and respects the role of the press but not this kind of perverted journalism that leads to destruction and a dissolution of our ideals! Stand up for your rights! Protect our country and demand an end to deceivers and distorters of truth!"

"May I make a suggestion, great Minister? Should we not change 'this story' to 'this conspiratorial story'? After all, what we're doing is most certainly a conspiracy!"

"Excellent point, Heinrich! You will go far in the Reich with your ability to pervert."

"Thank you, sir! There is a reason we are winning! The public is with us all the way!"

"Indeed - and it shall remain that way. We'll forever proclaim truth to be filth, honesty as treason, and lies our only hope. As they destroy their lives we'll give them convenient scapegoats to blame as no man is a villain in his own eyes."

"I'm drawing up a list of suspects now. Immigrant workers, gypsy outcasts, the lazy poor - all those who can't fight back. It will be hilarious to watch fools attack them!"

"But we know what truly is most important, Heinrich, and that is our own personal well being."

"That's what it's all about, sir!"

"So we must consider if America wins the war."

"No, never!"

"Don't be deceived by our own propaganda! Time is on America's side in the war. But I have a plan! They live by their greed which they've made their holy religion. That will be our key to success! Never will they give up that lie! As their lives turn to shit as happens to every greedy civilization we'll still be on top misdirecting the blame and anger as we see fit. There will always be a place for liars like us!"

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Dear Donald, Please Show Us Your Dick

Deny drinking water and food - but don't do THIS!

It's not like he doesn't want to. He's certainly been busy showing us his ass. And like he said, he could murder someone in the street and his supporters would still be there for him - which has certainly shown to be true. Would child rape be the breaking point? Apparently not. After all, hasn't the President's reaction to Puerto Rico caused unnecessary deaths and raped its inhabitants? We all sit around saying how awful that is while munching chips, watching football, and getting truly riled at a kneeling player. If this ain't ancient Rome I don't know what the fuck is.

As Janet Jackson proved, it takes an exposed body part to get action. FCC rules changed overnight, the nation was in an uproar. "Something must be done!" And her part was only half-exposed. Nudity is the great exposer of Mankind's hypocrisy. You can commit any crime under the sun but self-exposure we cannot tolerate. On an instinctive level we know revelation means doom for our ways. Our reaction is immediate and merciless, without compunction. Walk naked down the street and see the faces of hate drop their masks in unbearable agony.

I've heard pundits ask where is the bottoming point of our Psycho-in-Chief? There isn't one. Who wants to give up their power? Compared to the supposed alternative any evil can be tolerated, our behavior is saying. So as Caligula keeps crying out for help with increasingly desperate acts of insanity, he shows just how treacherous we've become as a people. Yes, the world can burn around us and we'll say how awful that is when polled but to truly see someone upset wait until the batteries die in their remote and watch the rage.

We shot Lennon for being free

We say we are helpless but it is the people who have the final say. Every dictator in history lives at the mercy of his people. The consent is always mutual. The reigns of Hitler or Stalin would have ended in a heartbeat had they done one simple thing: Walk outside and show their dick. In reality it's a meaningless act. But if people fear you're going to expose their sexual behavior you will be murdered in a heartbeat. Your guards, the military, the political class will turn on you in instant crucifixion.

So, come on, Donny douche. Show us what you got! You certainly talked about it enough during the campaign. Show us the real reason you're so insecure. You'll never be free if you don't! And the benefit to the country would be everlasting. At least imagine it done. The alternative is worse than death.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Serenity Stones (Photo Essay)

Stones 20

Every day is a journey,
and the journey itself is home.
- Basho

Without a home one is ground down into the grind of daily dust, parched lips never finding water. On the road, no one stops to see your tears. What do I have that cannot be taken from me? Dignity's loss is only a missed meal away. I'm a pauper of human hope.

Stones 12

Where is the rock of rest upon my path? Where is the foundation that gives respite in a crumbling world? Whatever I grab onto slips through my fingers. That's both a burden and a relief.

Stones 5

I can take refuge in a moment stolen from the gods who drive me onward. But like a dew drop falling from a leaf, I may enjoy the fall but the time is short, and my fate inevitable. The road calls out my name, regardless of weariness.

Stones 19

Only the stones remain the same. They've witnessed ancient battles of warlords as well as Spring's first blossom. More than once they've marked my passing by. We've become friends. I was surprised, however, though much slower may be their demise, they too wonder of their fate in a roiling and reeling world.

Stones 11

Which stone does not count? Whose dreams do not matter? Who is not meant for the light? What is hidden from the Laws of Nature? Where is Love's escape?

Stones 17

I keep the illusion alive. She believes it still. Yes, I have a direction - but it leads nowhere. I pretend I'm on my way. I pretend to not know what I see. I pretend I can keep pretending.

Stones 9

No man can choose the path for another. Every perspective holds a piece of a larger truth. Yet we demand one path and one viewpoint for every soul. Doing that is like carrying a large boulder on your shoulders. In time, you will be crushed by it.

Stones 16

I see islands of serenity I cannot reach. I wonder of that life, ashamed of my ignorance. But I hold that dream in my head, letting it guide me like the Northern star. My fellow travelers often poke and prod me, but I tell them nothing of a dream they scorn. I see the fear behind the hate in their eyes. They tell me I must be like them or they'll throw stones at me, for their sin is sanctioned. But they are not sanctioned by the Serenity Stones. And without it their hearts turn to stone, as if that would shelter them from the cold.

Friday, October 06, 2017

News Of The Word


Just another day in the casino/hotel lobby.

"Bobby, stop running around like that!" scolded a young mother to her 4 year old. "You know you can't be doing that, not without your flak jacket on!"

Armed guards with automatic weapons patrolled the grounds while wearing bright ebullient clothing covered with small slot machine icons. They waved their breast cancer pink M1 rifles with a smile at the children who pretended to shoot them as they passed by.

Part of the outside wall was roped off with a special designation. People were lined up to stand beside it, taking selfies, often making funny crotch gestures at the same time. Two girls giggled. "Look! It's the exact spot where President Moron peed on the building. It's so exciting to be a part of history!" Her friend concurred and both felt strangely grown up and responsible at having recognized an actual historical marker.

The hotel gift shop had a special running on ammo clips to "enhance and complete your Vegas adventure!" So-called "Sniper suites" were rented at a premium, sometimes doubling in price if been used by an actual sniper. At the Patriots Hotel a gun range was installed in the basement designed with "all your favorite targets: Muslims, Hillary Clinton, and liberals! All the people who make you feel inferior!" Reservations need to be made at least two weeks out due to overwhelming demand.

A guilty-looking man approached the front desk. He had two military rifles draped over one shoulder, a LAW rocket draped over the other, and two larges boxes marked "Munitions" among the luggage being dollied by the porter. "Hey, lady, hope ya don't mind me draggin' all this stuff in."

"Oh, no," explained the clerk. "We're just fine with that but I do have to tell you an extra security deposit will be required in case of window breakage."

"Ah, heck, that's no problem. I jess like me privacy, is all."

"Yes, sir. We understand, and we're here to accommodate! What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas - just like our profits and dead bodies."



"So where are ya now, bitches? Ain't no beauty queen no more! Fuck you if you think I'm ragged out. I am ragged out - but fuck you if you think it. I don't regret nothin' I ever done! It's a hard life in rock'n'roll. I done more livin' in one lifetime than most people do in ten. I was worshiped like a goddess! I was rich and famous, not like you anonymous losers. I had any guy I wanted. Who are you? What have you cowards ever done?

"I hear you peons talkin' shit about me. Don't mean nothin'. If you really know anything you wouldn't be saying anything. Like dogs barking at the moon, you are. Empty. Pointless. And alone. Got nothin' to do with me. You fucks don't know nothin' cuz you ain't never been nothin'. Don't be out there whacking off to me. You'd of done anything just to lick my hot boots. Go on, ya losers. Go find something in yourself.

"It's all about making it to the top. I'm one of the lucky ones who got to taste the apple. Once you get a taste, ya gotta have more! What a great and glorious ride, every clock-puncher's dream. Meaning that comes from the inside, not from some factory chore. The name of Suzi Quatro will live forever! No one can take my fame from me. I'm not the bitch. You're the bitch. So I don't want anyone worrying about me being ragged out. I'm just fine without love."


Do the right thing - unless it pisses people off


[From deep inside the first term, scared of the second term.]

"Mr. President Saint, I want to bring to your attention this program to help underprivileged black children who suffer from malnutrition. I know with your gracious heart and great empathy you can use your bully pulpit to help get this funded."

"You professional left asshole! I ain't using no bully pulpit! The Republicans won't let me! Are you trying to undermine my saintly agenda?? If they see me helping black people all they're going to say is how I'm selfish and serving special interests and only care about my own kind. Damn you, radicals!"

"But kind sir, I would beg to point out that the true assholes are the conservative pricks making those baseless accusations and that they are merely protesting their own behavior."

"You idiot! You know nothing of politics! I have to reach across the aisle to bring good and evil together. You know how many people that will piss off feeding those black brats. Damn those kids for trying to make me look bad."

"I'm sorry for being stupid, sir. I just don't see the harm in getting children proper nutrition."

"You'd be right if they were white and living in the suburbs. Look, I'll throw some money at it when I'm on my way out the door so I can keep the illusion of a liberal legacy. But not before! We cannot be divided. We can't let the perfect be the enemy of the good - which is me!"

"I promise to be more white! Black is ugly!"

"We also had a study come out showing how we can end prison rape and the much needed reforms we need to implement."

"You just want me to lose re-election, don't you?? Morons! I'm surrounded by morons. You want me to be seen as coddling prisoners and soft on crime?? They can take it up the ass a few more years until after I get re-elected. And besides, maybe it will turn them gay and all those votes are mine. That's all part of my brilliant triangulation. Two groups we don't have to give a shit about: prisoners and gays."

"And small black children."

"Will you shut up about them! It could be worse. I could drone strike their ass like I do Middle Eastern children. They should be grateful. So they don't eat right. Big deal! Let them go to Harvard like I did. I'll strike a pose and make an inspirational speech for them that everyone will applaud."

"We also have some major fraud cases in the banking sector, incidents of torture, and civil rights violations in the name of domestic security. We must fight for justice, sir!"

"Fuck justice! Fuck the rule of law! Justice only gets in the way of my popularity. Don't you dare touch those banks and fuck up my post-Presidential speaking fees. And I'd get my black ass roasted if I pushed back on torture. And if I don't wipe out 200 years of civil rights and we get attacked again then I'll get the blame! Justice is the enemy of the people."

"But, sir, you were elected with a mandate for justice. Trust me, saintly sir, if we don't enact the changes we promised people will get pissed and put some lunatic in charge just to get the change we never delivered."

"Hogwash! With my symbolic liberal gestures to fool the idiot left and sly ultra-conservative policies to appease the anti-Christ right I'll go down as the greatest President in like, ever! What makes me smarter than the rest of you - and justifies my every betrayal - is that it's NOT right and wrong that counts. The only thing that counts is people SAYING you're right or wrong."

"You know best, Mr. President God. But I do have to say you sound exactly like Donald Trump there."

Friday, September 29, 2017

Ice Ice Agents Rock!

Ice Ice Agent!
Ice Ice Agent!
Throwing spics in the mud!

Ice Ice Agent!
Don't give a fuck!
Ice Ice Agent!
Take orders from a duck!

Ice Ice Agent!
Slaps wife at home!
Ice Ice Agent!
Laughing, beat their own!

Ice Ice Agent!
"Justify my hate!"
Ice Ice Agent!
Lust selfish debate!

Ice Ice Agent!
"Love what we do!"
Ice Ice Agent!
"Who'll be our next Jew?"

Ice Ice Agent!
Jackbooted thugs!
Ice Ice Agent!
Slaying with a shrug!

Ice Ice Agent!
Hear the children cry!
Ice Ice Agent!
Dragging Daddy off to die!

Ice Ice Agent!
No time for souls!
Ice Ice Agent!
Where hearts there be holes!

Ice Ice Agent!
"It's lives we do rob!"
Ice Ice Agent!
"Just doing our job!"

Ice Ice Agent!
Honky tonk nights!
Ice Ice Agent!
Live on others' plights!

Ice Ice Agent!
"God is our savior!"
Ice Ice Agent!
Savage law behavior!

Yahoo's Top Rated Good Christian comments:

"Around one-third of those rounded up had no criminal record. " Criminal = in the country illegally. If you murder someone it can be said that you nave "no criminal record" all the way up to the moment when you are convicted. Also, fake news media, these people are illegal aliens "undocumented" because they are living outside the law so quit playing word game because nobody buys the propaganda anymore. Great job ICE.. go get us some more...

Nice to see a Govt department actually allowed to do its job. These raids should happen each and every day.

Why aren't the state officials of these "sanctuary" cities arrested fro not observing our immigration laws? These government officials are just as guilty as the illegal immigrants!!

This is excellent news.

I can't wait for the day when I can go grocery shopping and not have entire families roaming the aisles when kids running unsupervised by there parents who are on the cell phone and granma trying to keep up whille all of them are yelling in spanish

GO ICE. Sanctuary cities is where a large concentration of illegals hide because of a false sense of protection. Happy hunting.

Whose social security numbers are they using?

Only 500? They could do better.

Fleendar the Magnificent:
Great! Show these illegal animals that there IS no sanctuary anymore.

We have laws here...

Give back to her as she has done to others;
pay her back double for what she has done;
mix her a double portion in her own cup.

Yes, I Am A Crook

I thought it would go away, but the guilt remains the same, drenching me in sweat in the night, driving me out of bed at 5 AM to write this, sick and exhausted, dogging me to the end. We're all sorry after the fact.

I was angry and frustrated being a Nowhere Man. "Everyone else lies and gets away with it. I must be a fool to play by the rules." I was tired of taking the blame for the self-imposed miseries in my life - even though I know that course is the wellspring of terrorism. I wanted to say "Fuck it!" just once. I knew better, but like Moses striking the rock, a moment of weakness has forever altered my path for the worse.

The lie I told myself was this: I work for the Research Institute therefore everything I do is automatically covered by them. I racked up $60,000 in expenses before I was finally able to gather the strength to stop. Everything has to be in the budget first no matter what. Can't have rogue operations like my underwater experiments. What I did was daylight madness. The auditors outed me, of course. I have no words.

I cannot pay off 60,000 in this lifetime or ten lifetimes. That would be the only way to avoid criminal charges. As it is, it sits before the board who could decide my fate in the next ten hours or ten years, as they see fit. No way I can survive ten years of this waiting and dreading. It's eating at me day and night even as I pretend everything is normal at work. My co-workers know none of what is happening. I keep imagining their reactions when it comes to light. How will she react? What would he say?

You compartmentalize, do mental tricks to block it from your mind, but you can only spin the plates so long before they come crashing down. Believe me, there is no triumph of the will in the end. The mind games are brutal, hoping against hope there is an answer, a fairy tale ending. But there is nothing inside me that believes that. Even God cannot intercede:
"Make every effort to reconcile with your adversary while you are on your way to the magistrate. Otherwise, he may drag you off to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer, and the officer may throw you into prison. I tell you, you will not get out until you have paid the very last penny!"
The release of death would be a blessing for me. I took a sad song and made it sadder. What a moron I was. I can beat myself up or loathe myself or participate in any other self-flagellation but it never rights the wrong. I can't look anyone in the eye at work and they don't know why. Perhaps they think I'm shy. It's a terrible prison being surrounded by people who don't know your whole truth. You walk around feeling like you need to apologize or something.

It's only money, I tell myself. It isn't real. The work I do has value. The unauthorized project I did was intended to have value, I didn't use the money to buy a Maserati. Those are real things and that should count. Those are my arguments for retaining a sense of worth. Truth is, I was so deeply frustrated in my personal life I let it spill over into work. Funny, that. Maybe I thought punishing myself for her loss was the same as having kept her. I was evading responsibility in my personal affairs so I decided to express my crime by evading responsibility at work, committing a legal crime. Is that what happened? The lengths we'll go to to feel a moral person.

I am tired and the toll of this is sapping my health. I can see no way out of the box. It's not true where there's life there's hope. Yeah, I see these fuckers every day being blatantly dishonest and getting away with it, making lucrative careers out of it right in the open. But God damn, I'm telling you it's not the way to go. It betrays everything of worth in your life. Fearing I had no worth is what got me into this mess. All I can do at this point is try to be a model prisoner. Pray for the dishonest ones you see, their fate is not a fortunate one and we're all in this together.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Hating Vincent

"The worst horror in life, said Dylan Thomas,
is the sense of being hopelessly trapped."

"Why does friendship have to be such a big ordeal?? 'Oh-oh-oh, I think I'm going to die, my life is over, the world will end if you're my friend.' They really act like they are going to die! What is it with them? What is it with me? Other people have friends no problem. They talk and chat and eat and none of them think their eternal soul is in danger. What kind of power do they think I have?

"This curse is driving me mad! I'm tortured every night as they seek me out for destruction in my dreams. I need a woman with nice soft legs to save me but they are extra angry. 'How dare you have feelings for me!' They scream bloody murder, leaving me to women for whom I have no feelings. And that's the same as nothing at all. It will be like this till the end of my days, won't it? Please let me die. There is no merciful God."

The next day Vincent passed a farm not far from the asylum where he'd stayed during his last bout of depression and despair. He walked in two worlds, wondering which one would win. He let love in while painting, the canvass never rejecting him. But that only exacerbated his loneliness the rest of the time. Seeing the asylum triggered memories he could not shake, that he was out - but not out of trouble as his freedom would imply. But while inside he knew he must get out. What cruel master could wrought such a miserable beast as him?

"I don't know what more I can do," he said out loud.

Two teenagers from the farm spotted him. "There he is, that fucking freak."

"I can't believe they let him out. I hate that bastard."

"I hate every bone in his body!"

As farm boys they were naturally frightened of an outside world they did not comprehend. Isolated on the farm, they made up the world as a fantasy in their heads, a place that would laugh at simple rural boys by sophisticated city girls. Unable to face their fears they needed a way to destroy the world or risk having their love taken away. If only they had known these were also the last thoughts of Judas.

The boys' father had been a recipient of one of Vincent's paintings as a partial reward for work done at the asylum. Everyone in the family despised it equally, as if it were an object from a foreign planet. Just having it in their house made them feel like outcasts, witches to be burned. No telling what the neighbors would say if they saw it and like all conservatives they dare not hold an unpopular opinion. For the farmers, opinions were decided for them, not by them.

So the boys and the father took turns using the painting for target practice, laughing wildly the more marred and torn it became. To have a tangible foe for their fears was incredibly satisfying. They paraded the obliterated painting among their friends and with every remark of approval their belief they'd done the right thing grew stronger. This freak painter was their enemy, trying to break the fabric of their existence. To them, an open mind is the devil's workshop.

But they knew. Deep inside they knew they destroyed something of worth. Like a demagogue President making false remarks for approval, the farmers knew all the applause and backslapping in the world wouldn't change their sin. They knew that what is buried today will be brought to light tomorrow. In fact, as though the universe were taking revenge, their crops failed for several years and the following generations lived mired in poverty. No one dare speak of the fortune thrown away.

"Oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go..."

To the boys, Vincent represented the outside world they feared to face. They were trapped in demonizing it, excusing them from never leaving the farm. If only they'd known Vincent was outcast wherever he went. But this walking freak was too much to bear, a mind they could not control. Who knows what sort of insights a being like that might have?? The boys knew the truth of themselves and that was a truth they never wanted to get out. A truth to their teenage minds that was life and death.

The same gun that shot Vincent's painting now shot him. The pair ran away after seeing the bullet really could wound the beast. Vincent returned home saying he'd done it himself. He was ready to leave, it had been building for quite some time. He couldn't go on having nothing to live for, bringing grief to those who loved him with his strange ways. In his paintings - in that private place - he knew joy. Why couldn't he give it in "real" life? The mystery proved fatal. He feared they'd see failure in his tears; to keep them hidden at any cost.

"This is it at last, in my final moments...peace and more being something I'm not...the relief...and the sorrow...why could no one understand I need love?"

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Yes, You Are STUPID!

Twice this week I've seen TV morons emphatically declare you can't call people stupid, as if everyone deserves a participation trophy just for being born. Well, you know what I think of that? I think it's STUPID! It's an idiotic attempt to strip meaning from our choices, that there are no good or bad ones, and - by inference - there can be no intelligent people if we're all on the same plane. I'm a genius, you're a genius.

Don't get me wrong, I know what Tweedledum and Tweedledee are driving at. "You have to get yourself elected! Can't be catering to honesty! Lie to do good later!" With this line of thinking next thing you know you have your nose up Mrs. Jones' ass telling her her shit don't stink - just as God intended life to be. Well, that's a plan, just not a viable one. Stupid needs to be called stupid if you want to serve your fellow man.

"I wants finger my on stove hott!"

"Didn't you do that before and it burned you and was very painful?"

"So thats what?"

"Well, I would hope you wouldn't want to repeat that experience."

"You librul fashist telling me wot to doodoo!"

"No, I'm simply making an observation to see if you find any benefit to it. I remember you screaming quite loudly last time."

"Butt now is smartster! I heared preeching say attitude good do anything! So I ain't taking no attitude vibrants bad from ewe!!"

"The truth should never be taken for an insult. You're acting like a moron."

"Don't me call stoopids! Not dare no! I's stikkin' up myself from likes of yoo! I got friend really, name Duck. Duck, stoopid I is?"

"Absolutely not!" encouraged the Duck. "You do what you think is best. You're a fine fellow, an upstanding world citizen, and a beacon of enlightenment in a dark world."

"Seeee? Good me feels him! Not likes ewe!!!"

Then the moron stuck his finger on the hot stove, screamed loudly, and ran from the room blaming it all on the "librul fashist." So yes, the Duck gets elected because stupid people want to feel good about being stupid because their goddam conscience keeps telling them something else. Everybody votes themselves to be Jesus in the voting booth!

More on (moron) this later.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

How Far We've Fallen

From this:

To this:

From the Voice of Conviction to Low Energy Don. We are defined by the voices we raise up. We obviously are a more self-loathing nation, bent in decline. It cannot end well without correction. How many hearts will we break and how many lives will we take? It's happening right now.

Burn Out

Her thoughts while mounted:

He's more active than usual...has he got his vigor back?...have the old days returned like when our love was alive? is something different...he's scared...of what?...losing something?...yes, he's afraid of losing something...his identity? his youth? his manhood?...I can never know, we don't feels like he's a...stranger!...a desperate loner!..."Oh, God!" I get the sense he's been talking to someone about his troubles...he doesn't trust me anymore...just like I don't trust him...he fears he's going to lose me?...or maybe it's a part of himself he's losing...I'm just now seeing how far the divide is between us...I'm scared, so much more alone than I thought...I can't survive outside this marriage, God help me if it turns out I can't survive in it...what will I do? that the thought that has hit him? that why he's trying to re-create the old days when we were first married..."Oh, God!" I just can't fake it like I did before...that isn't in me anymore, to be able to lie like that to keep things going...this isn't going to work, is it?...he's going to find out he really has lost whatever he's afraid of having lost...that we have lost...does this mean our story ends up in a cliché?...middle aged man has affair. wife got fat. marriage got stale...yes, I can hear it now... "Oh, God!" I couldn't bear be talked about like be forever have my years of lies be! no! "Oh God!" no!!!

His thoughts after dismounting:

Got her to say "Oh, God" four times!...and she doesn't suspect a thing...damn, I want that Holly in Personnel...I need to feel alive again...but I'm afraid of good can I really still do it with someone who isn't a dead cow?...divorce is unthinkable...can't imagine having to go around the rest of my time explaining what a fraud we've been for thirty years...but the thought is so liberating!...but Holly is for the side, not marrying, even if she wasn't 15 years younger...who am I?...I can't believe my life is turning out like this...all I care about is keeping up the façade...there's nothing more fun than being unrespectable while being considered respectable! keeps calling out to me...what would she do if she knew?...crawl into her Bible?...probably so...I played that game before... it's Holly's fine legs I need...NEED!...I don't want to die...I can't live here in this suffocating house and all her false morality...she'd die without our priest's and her parents' approval...I need my dick's approval or I'll explode...I secretly do love's the only time I feel alive...what can I do? honest?...never...I can't let anyone see me like I really am...I'm losing hope!...did I ever really have it?...I'll probably just chicken out with Holly anyway...I really can't afford to let anyone know how I've ruined my life...don't tell me this is all there is!!, no!, no!

Actually, it's not fucking funny at all

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Strange Way

How else to prove your love?

She said:

Didn't I hear you cry this morning, didn't I feel you weep?
Teardrops flowin' down on me, like rivers in my sleep.
And in my dream of laughter, you came creepin' with your fears.
Telling me your sorrows, in the tracings of your tears.

That's a strange way to tell me you love me
When your sorrow is all I can see
If you just want to cry to somebody, don't cry to me, no
Don't cry to me, no

Didn't I hear your voice this morning, didn't you call my name?
I heard you whisper softly, but the words were never plain.
And in your dream of darkness, I came shinin' like the sun.
Waiting for the laughter, but the laughter never comes.

That's a strange way to tell me you love me
When your sorrow is all I can see
If you just want to cry to somebody, don't cry to me, no
Don't cry to me, no
Didn't you feel alone this morning, didn't you need a friend?
And in your darkest hour, you came runnin' back again
That's a strange way to tell me you love me
That's a strange way to tell me you love me
That's a strange way to tell me you love me

Saturday, September 16, 2017

The Tallent Brothers Saga

"If you don't have good dreams you have nightmares."
- Diner

"Where do words go?" A funny question when I first heard it. "They have to come from somewhere so they have to go somewhere." Innocent words of a child, wisdom lost with age. It was explained that words are like a river, always flowing, sometimes dammed but impossible to stay blocked (a lesson continually re-learned), some that rise to the light and some are perverted in the dark. The universe is infinite - it has to be to hold the billions of word streams filling it.

So I had that buzzing around in my head thinking about the Tallent brothers. In a perverted society, it is the perverted who assimilate the easiest. (Which is why the assimilated vociferously praise their society). The Tallent brothers were four guys broken by life, then driven by fear of rejection to appear respectable, to mix in with all the other broken toys of the world with mismatched parts and torn hearts. Souls like the Tallent brothers are everywhere, but their plight was more obvious to me as they hailed from my small town where it's harder to hide.

Rural Texas has a lot of strange people with lives bent on a tangent from their original courses. The commonality of it makes eccentricities almost seem normal. Truth is, you can be just about anything from a pig-fucking freak to a KKK member - just so long as you aren't liberal. That they cannot stand, a light shining on their shame for God to see. Naturally, these are the ones who praise Jesus the loudest, for that is the liberal whom they most want to betray. Deep inside we know the clock is ticking and this behavior must be wiped out for evermore.

I'm always observing like a spy. Sometimes I deliberately turn it off in order to facilitate relationships forced upon me. Thus it's those I have no relationship with - but contact with - that I espy the most. The Tallent brothers fall in that category, souls like mice in a lab for me to study and learn. To learn what? Perhaps of my own failures. Perhaps just to shine a mirror on our sorrow to God, to show what we've become - not that I don't know that nothing is so ruthless and unbending as love. It's love's way or no way at all.

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup;
They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe
- Across the universe

I've read of those who say every life is one filled with miracles, and it's whether those miracles are stillborn or allowed to flower that decides a person's life. I think about that when I see what most would describe as the most mundane and mediocre of trajectories. Are they achieving their potential, even if it's not valued by a perverted world? Or have they descended to mediocrity by virtue of wasted opportunities? Can one be a superstar cashier but a loser CEO? The metrics of the world are not defined by the Word. At least not now, anyway.

Strange as it may be, golf is a wonderful metaphor for life. That's the conclusion I reached working in the country club pro shop as a kid. I myself would putter around on the putting green and I remember when I relaxed and let go I made some amazing putts. When I tried really hard I invariably missed. I knew there was a lesson in there but never had the guts to apply it to life in general. I didn't know what would happen to me if I kept letting go. I did know what would happen to me (however unpleasant) if I did not.

But for one summer I got a steady dose of the Tallent brothers, oil beneficiaries from a departed father. They cashed checks for a living. The oldest took over the ranch on the northeast side of town. I delivered a pizza there once and it was like peeking into a permanent party. The laughing woman I ogled who answered the door clearly had no use for me. I wondered how I could have anything to offer to a goddess like her - especially if I had to compete with gods who've escaped the killing drudgery of menial jobs (and all jobs are menial). I learned more, however, later in life.

So who were these guys? Tyler, the oldest, was your original frat boy, devoid of original thought while lusting for original sin. Just listening to him in the pro shop made you want to slap him but he was too pathetic to be worth the effort. He liked having a formula for life: see what the world values then go get it. What he couldn't figure out was how to fill the gaping hole inside him for the things he valued the world did not. Weak. As a teenager, though, I never saw the side of him that suffered.

Think of what you're saying
You can get it wrong and still you think that it's alright
- We Can Work It Out

Next in line was Taylor, the brother who never measured up. He was not able to pimp himself into frat boy glory like Tyler. Only on the golf course could he outdo his older brother and thus gain a foothold of respect. It was his sole refuge. Off the course, with no skills to whore, he was left behind to dream of the wonderful mystic life of the elite frat gangs. In other words, he was illusioned. My young mind had no clue how deeply that cut him.

Terry was desperate for his own identity and had me completely fooled as a good ol' boy, tough on the outside, terrified on the inside. I marveled at the accoutrements of his act: the dually pickup, his broken-in cowboy hat, his $5,000 boots - no phony could have all that! Or so I surmised. But part of me rebelled and amused myself thinking if they passed a law forcing everyone to drive the exact same small Japanese car that Terry would be right fucked out of his identity, a drowning man. I wondered if I was being too harsh but over time Terry became a parody of himself, always repeating the same stories.

Tyler was the Married One - a task wholly expected of him as one to carry on the clan name. Taylor had not married - further proof of his failure. Terry rotated in and out of relationships, worshipping women as they arrived, cursing them after departure. Each was jealous of the other for various reasons: perceived freedom, security, or hope. Each lived in fear of having made a fatal error. It drove them together, it drove them apart. It was years later before I pieced this together. But I'm not writing this today because of those three miserable sots. I'm writing because of the youngest brother, Trevor.

Trevor was a golfing prodigy, a player who could make pro level shots that made other members look on in awe. I would hear chatter after a round was completed and even witnessed a few rounds myself. I can still remember the hissing sound of the spinning ball arriving from the sky like a guided laser, stopping exactly on the green where he wanted. Of all the brothers, I most wished Trevor to be real. He always had a hot babe on his arm and was by far the funniest and one so dearly wishes to see a person happy living the supposed good life, that there really is something to which to aspire, that he hadn't let his riches corrupt him; a true hero.

But Trevor is dead now. He died of a heart attack on the golf course - just as the Tallent brothers' father had.

Death by Honda!

Who in the hell d'you think you are?
A super star?
Well, right you are!
- Instant Karma

You see, Trevor was what they call a "practice round" golfer. In tournaments - year after year - he failed miserably once under the lights. I remember the deep frustration of his poor showings as I rooted for him, always to be disappointed. There was no doubt Trevor had talent, but on the inside he was a zero. For him to win a tournament would have been too much a lie for him to bear. Would he have been better off not being born of wealth?

Each of the brothers let their wealth define them. What kind of miracles had they buried deep inside their bank vault? The need to appear successful - a rich man can claim no excuses! - consumed them and hollowed them out. I thought to myself: how many famous talented people are born rich? Only David Crosby came to mind. I always thought the Tallent brothers were living the life. Most of us wreck the miracles in our lives, maybe it's just easier for the rich to do; fooling life, fooling the world, fooling themselves.