Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Trump Says Earth Is Flat, Leftists Lose Again

HATEVILLE (AP) In what some are calling the "most outrageous act yet" and a "new low" for the President, a tweet denoting the earth to be flat was released by the President today to "rile the fake news round-earthers." Trump supporters were quick to latch onto this latest missive stating it to be "one more indication of this President's challenging of the status quo with his single-minded devotion to the truth", as one Twitter follower crowed.

Media pundits quickly decried the statement as an "obvious play to his base using his baselessness." One was so flustered as to call Trump's supporters "mentally indigent." Organic grocery stores, fine wine shops, and bookstores emptied out in the aftermath as leftist bloggers posted furiously to "set the record straight once and for all the earth is round." The bloggers denoted their posts with #resistance to push back against what they see as an ill-conceived agenda being waged by the President and no one can know that without their guidance.

Many leftist bloggers were self-congratulatory on their presentation of overwhelming evidence "dating back to Columbus." Trump supporters, who prefer to be called Trumpanzees, were quick to refute the evidence as "fake news." "Columbus was a slave trader! You're going to take his word?? I thought all those leftists hated slavery! #leftisthypocrisy!" Trumpanzees also claimed the photographic evidence offered had been doctored and that they refused to be fooled by "lying libtards." That only set off a new round of competing posts with no end in sight.

Trumpanzees claim outrage over a lifetime spent "under the tyranny of facts" and of "a cruel oppression by reality." "Facts aren't facts," fumed one. "We're waging jihad on facts and our President is leading the way! I just love how it pisses off the libtards and media eleet!" When asked how he knew which media was elitist the Trumpanzee explained it was anyone who could correctly spell elite. This echoes a stance by the President who previously issued a ban on Spelling Bees due to "multiple ways a word can be spelled which the eleet media diabolically refuse to acknowledge! Sadd!"

Trump claims his actions are "uniting the country like never before" and that the firestorm set off by his tweet "is a good use of people's time." Some say this is part of a larger political strategy on the President's part as he proposes the largest tax cut in history which he says will resolve the national debt. Many, however, point out that to be a contradiction but the President refuted that. "Mathematicians and scientists only oppose me because of their left-wing ideology. I'm right and they can't stand it! I'm being attacked and crucified same as Jesus because I am fighting for the same things he did."

The President's claim to divinity set off a new round of contentious posts and columns tossing the country into continuing chaos. Pundits claim Trump and the Trumpanzees simply have chaos as their goal and nothing more, saying the chaos invites opportunity to spread corruption into as many lives as possible. When the President asked if he's going to repent his destructive actions he doubled downed by promising his next tweet is to be about how the sun revolves around the earth. "Tweeting beats the shit out of having to do something real."


Tensions were high at the college football matchup between UT and Texas A & M. A UT lineman decided to taunt his counterpart as they lined up across from one another at a critical junction in the fourth quarter.

"Hey, doesn't your sister go here at UT?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"Thought that was her! I buttfucked her twice last week. Boy, does she like it up the ass!"

The referee's whistle blew as he threw the flag for offsides on the A & M player who launched himself across the line before the snap. Back on the sideline his coach was none too happy.

"What the hell were you doing jumping offsides like that?"

"You shoulda heard what he said about my sister!"

"You moron! You can't react to that shit."

"But coach! I had to do something. Can't just let people say anything."

"Well go 'do something' over there on the bench and decide if you want to keep being a moron. Look at them! The entire UT team is laughing at you. We're here to win. Morons never win, ya moron. Let it go."

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Henny's Hollowing

Harold "Henny" Henderson uses the stage name of Henny as an homage to Henny Youngman. He makes a serviceable living on tour and I used to wonder is it really worth it going down that road if you don't make the big time. But doing what you love for peanuts is infinitely more rewarding than doing what you hate for any amount of money. I've learned hard lessons on the meaning of success.

But now Henny's wife has died. I was loath to see him in the aftermath knowing that he loved her dearly but the mood struck me one day to go see him regardless of my concerns; que será, será. All I had to offer was a sympathetic ear and not much else. It would have to be others who could offer hugs and fine wine and substance. But I was right to follow my feelings as Henny somehow knew to trust my open ear as I, being always the greater sinner, am shook by no confession on God's green earth.

"I'm heading out next month on the dead wife joke tour." There was no humor in his flat voice, only a bitter commentary on life. "Maybe that's what this is all about."

Henny's home is modest and comfortable with pleasant sings of life. But how many of those signs would come to haunt him, reminders of things lost? I peered around the room at items I knew to be Helen's. Would he keep them or store them or throw them out? It seems so simple on the surface but life and death in its nature. Sometimes I think life is rushing around us while we only catch glimpses of the true picture.

He'd had his back to me while speaking, making a drink for himself. Henny sat down in a chair, hardly recognizing I was even in the room - just as I wished. I wanted him to feel the freedom to be "impolite" and vent the "wrong" things to say.

"Life isn't life anymore." He rattled the ice in his highball glass, looking down into it as if he could surmise some sort of wisdom. But it was clear his hope was misplaced. "I mean, who gives a fuck? Who gives a fuck what I do? What difference does anything make? I was just fooling myself."

He raised the glass to his mouth and took a swallow. I felt as if all Heaven was watching. "Know what we were doing...before?" He looked up at me without seeing me. "Looking at these new car brochures. I wanted something solid to show for my years of hard touring and I had this...anger. Angry at what I don't know. But this stupid fucking car was going to make the difference. God, what an idiot!"

Then he stopped. I sensed he had slipped underwater and was half considering letting himself drown. In this non-descript house in a non-descript neighborhood the problems of one man amounted to a mountain of importance in this derailed world. I was there to witness it and wanted to scream out at the top of my lungs. Where was his audience now? Let them see all sides of the funny man. It's no fucking joke.

"I have nightmares every night. I'm afraid to close my eyes. Everything is blackness with no color. I keep thinking she's there or coming back, like a faint dream on the wind. Then I wake up. And that's another nightmare."

I knew Henny hadn't shared this with anyone. I prayed to God my presence and open ear were enough because God knows I had no words for him. He was striking too close to my own personal grief and hellish existence. Wrong time to start feeding him my constant self-talk of negativity. I had to hope he knew this through osmosis.

We were both silent. A channel of communication had been established, making words obsolete. Stupid reactions ran through my mind. How do you think them Cowboys will do this year? The President was a jerk again today - want to hear the details?? Guess you'll be stocking up on frozen dinners now, eh? (an oblique reference to my own life) How trivial the world seemed at that moment. I knew if I turned on the TV to the latest news that it could only be insignificant in comparison. I felt I was witnessing the true future of the world here and now, in that living room.

I almost started laughing. We were both silently defiant. Two lonely souls - one from circumstance, one as a condition - were glad to have the other's company. To have to chitchat would only demean it. But I always feel what an outsider would think watching a situation. Only those who understood we didn't need to speak could ever enter my circle of trust.

Part of me was elated. I'd had something to offer after all! Would we be doing stuff together now? I shared my free passes to the Asian Film festival with Henny and his wife and we attended a couple films together. I'd be open to doing other stuff like that especially during his recovery period. Lord knows I know the roller coaster ride of emotions he's going to experience. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

We couldn't sit there forever. We just wanted to. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. My empty, gray-filled apartment awaited me, the gaping hole picturing in my mind. At the end of the day guess we really are resigned to ourselves, to live with ourselves right or wrong. I thought of relationships I'd screwed up and ones I'd lost. This was like a wonderful time out from life.

Blah, blah, blah

"Wanna beer?"


Henny knew I didn't drink liquor and he looked relieved to be getting up and doing something, glad to retrieve a Dos Equis from the fridge. He wasn't exactly happy when he handed it to me but he'd definitely made it up to non-miserable, which was certainly progress. He was grateful for my presence but it was clear he sensed the looming vacuum after it came time for me to go. That's when you have no choice but to just take it, the price of having taken a breath back to life.

I talked a little of my own travails, of how my finances are strangling me and of my long term fears. I made it obvious I was trying to distract him and give him a chance to be outside of himself if he so chose. Henny thought he was being daring when he suggested (sincerely) that I should have been a lawyer. "What? So I can confine myself to the confinable? I've already got that, thanks." I could ramble about my self-pity for hours!

The air started going out of the room and it came time to leave as I put my empty bottle in Henny's kitchen. I suddenly remembered Helen chopping vegetables in there and had to fight the urge to share that memory. Don't know why but that one little spark did a lot to ruin my good feeling and plunge me back into my usual confusion.

Heading out the door I felt obliged to ask about the tour he'd already booked even though I winced at having to ask something I knew he must have been pestered about. But we were still on the same wavelength as Henny anticipated my question.

"My agent says work would be good for me. 'Don't stay in the house and rot!' Know what I said to him?" I got this big shit-eating grin on my face in delicious appreciation. "I said I don't feel fucking funny. Someone else has to entertain the world."

My dancing eyes told him I loved it as I stepped out into the warm evening air. Who needs a world that doesn't take care of you? Preservation starts from within.

"Hey, man, if you ever want to do anything, just let me know," I offered without any sense of obligation."

"I will," he sincerely replied and with those two innocuous words I felt as if I'd won a battle for survival in our perpetual earthly war. I was halfway to my car when Henny called out as an idea suddenly came to him as he rushed back inside.

"Hey, Harry, wait up! Thought you might need these." He handed them to me and left to go back inside. It was new car brochures. Funny.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Goupil: Memiors Of An Assassin


Nothing in this world can match the certainty of an assassin's bullet. The focus and clear-eyed clarity of the singular moment of a bullet's release is in tune with the universe like no other time. The pulling of the trigger is like reaching orgasm, a payoff for which to yearn. Knowing that the sun and everything under it is helpless before you, that the judgment of heaven and earth must accede to your wishes gives a feeling of calmness and serenity where one wishes to reside forever.

To think of the Oswald shot (as some say it happened) is to think of a thousand to one chance. I have been in Dallas and seen the lay of the land myself. It was a pilgrimage for me, to get inside another assassin's head, to relive the most devastating rifle shot in history. I found it strange he didn't take the simple shot on the flat ground due east of the library. The chances of success there would be many times that of a downhill shot curving away. It was a miracle strike. But truth is that shows the power of clarity and what it can achieve, as if guided by the hand of God.

Oftentimes in my solitary existence I replay past executions, each one unique in its nature. Depending on my mood I relive the aspects that brought me the most joy; sometimes a clever escape, sometimes the reaction of the shocked bystanders, but mostly just relishing the few quiets moments before the shot, making preparations and being in the moment. I sit gloriously in my perch as a being without want or need. It is, however, all downhill from there.

Since childhood I've always lived in my head. I laughed at those with faith in the world, forever pursuing the end of the rainbow, ultimately drowning in frustrated politic. My scorn was deep and absolute. To live in futility is to be dead. One can hear the endless arguments everywhere, lives arguing to be meaningful when at the end of the day nothing real has been said. To feel alive one must be outside of that cacophony of muddled minds littering the world. I saw everyone - including heads of state - as trapped. I stood alone.

It took me a lifetime to realize my own cage.

Money was first on my list. It is the greatest tool of oppression ever invented and despite the deep suffering it brings to the overwhelming majority of the world I can always depend on my fellow man to hold it in higher regard than human life, to ridiculously serve it as a purpose "greater than he is" as every person must do realized or not. It is a sick, pathetic and barbaric game stemming from twisted minds who've given up. But it is a game that must be played.

I've heard it said my money is blood money when, in fact, all money is blood money. All the funny pieces of paper around the world are printed in blood. It's funny when I hear a countryman say another country's currency "doesn't look real." I want to lean over and say, "That's because none of it is!" (I did actually do this once but the quizzical look I got in response cured me for life.) Your valued paper kills with hunger, homelessness, and hopelessness. I use a bullet. Just a matter of time before anyone's lies catch up to them.

I was a natural at my craft, partly from DNA and partly because of a strong drive to succeed. Most important lesson I learned in this world is that it's not the most moral conviction that succeeds, but the one with the greatest conviction (see Bolsheviks). That was my edge as an assassin. It was easy to see the doubt, the hesitation, that sense of certainty I had that others were missing. The more cunning of my employers distrusted me for this knowing I'd do my own thinking and thus could not be controlled in the usual manner. But I made it clear I was for hire and as long as they asked for nothing more than the job at hand both parties would be satisfied.

Bodyguards are like dogs. And no matter how dedicated or ferocious that bodyguard is, no dog has an inner drive. They are as predictable as the coming of the seasons. Almost any obstacle can be overcome. It's all a manner of determination and planning. Once I was able to exhibit that I was able to command the kind of money that I needed. That allowed for even more time and planning which led to even more money. It was a beautiful cycle and that time on the way up was the favorite time of my life, walking through airports on a different plane.

The trick to any game is knowing when to get out. As you will see, I failed in that. A hit too far, shall we say. Like others more famous than me, I got tangled in a Russian web. I managed to escape with my life but my career was done as I went on the run. In the course of my life my human needs were denied (which the Russians tried so expertly to prey upon) and I've spent the last several years trying to catch up on a life unlived. It's not the people I killed that I regret. It's the relationships I killed that I regret. I ran away to keep my assassin's life alive. I saw love as my enemy.

Now I look for love but none is to be found. I have nothing left to do but come clean as an alone and friendless soul. You may think as you wish of me, I have no problem. I would like to think the truth has value regardless of circumstance. Many fools believe in a fictional "morality of the masses". They must believe that in order to believe there is a future. I never once thought in my life I could speak the truth and not be killed. Ironically, with my career choice I made that a reality. But the way I look at it now, if the truth gets me killed then let my blood be on the hands of God.

"Goupil: An Assassin's Memoir" as told to Harry Homeless
by the international French gunman aliased as Goupil

Monday, August 21, 2017

Petty Political Post

“It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished
unless they kill in large numbers
and to the sound of trumpets.”

- Voltaire

What seems like Hot Topic Of The Moment of which we think the world will tilt is really more like watching leaves pass by in a river, forgetting the last one as the next one comes along. So I usually don't comment on the petty intrigues we like to distract ourselves with in order to attach importance to our lives. Let's face it, most of us are like those leaves regardless of our hopes and dreams.

But "bar talk" can be revealing of a person and of where he or she is coming from and thus can be quite useful as a mirror sometimes. Like when you ask someone what he does for fun and the reply is, "Shoot things." Two words that tell a lot. So here's some bar talk from me for what it's worth. To help feed (my) interest I'll insert hot girls between my inanities.


Nobody heard of the fucker before and now he's headed back under his rock. He's got "his weapons" back, aka figments of his imagination. Breitbart is where arrested adolescents go to stay arrested, living in a fantasy world of self-importance. It's much easier pretending to have a purpose than actually having one.


Lets face it, we don't give a fuck about the Afghan people so there'll never be "victory". America is just too afraid to live without an enemy we can put bullets in. We periodically update our rationale for flag-waving and grandstanding purposes and this is another such occasion where human life is distilled to combat fatigues, slogans, profiteering, and death. Now that's a plan!


Inanimate statues were never a problem when we elected a black man and deemed ourselves non-racists. Now we elected a person who markets (and he is, after all, a pure pathological marketer and nothing else) racism so we're in a desperate hurry to hide our hatred. Does removing "bad" statues make our hearts pure? Some political types will actually argue yes. But after the removals we'll find nothing has changed.


All those people out here are going to "stop Nazi hate"? Really? It's just a big waste of time and that will be realized at some point when there's a Nazi rally and no one attends or counter-protests because it's happening at the same time as a new "Game Of Thrones" episode. It's not really a movement and if it is then it's a bowel movement. This too will be flushed in a year.


Just say yes! It's not what you're against that counts but only what you're for. "I hate Trump because:"

"He's not fucking enough people!"
"All I care about is getting the cookie he promised - no matter who gets screwed in the process!"
"He makes us look like assholes and I don't want to change!"

See? Poll numbers may drop but not necessarily because people are growing a conscience. It's like throwing out Saddam so we could get ISIS, which is what we turned out to be for - so that's what we got. Read the hearts, not the polls.

Saturday, August 19, 2017


Where Truth Comes To Be Crucified
Emperor Caligula Nominates His Horse For Senate

In what is considered a daring show of bravado and mockery, Emperor Caligula announced today his prized stallion, Incitatus, would take its place at the head of the Senate. This drew sharp rebuke from many Senators. "This is unprecedented in the history of Rome! Never have I witnessed such outrageous and unbalanced behavior," chided one. When asked if he was ready to break with the Emperor he responded thusly: "Oh, no. I'm still hoping to reduce taxes for us wealthy types in order to maintain income inequality." Caligula was said to have taken great glee in the Senators' teeth-grinding consternation. But that only further inflamed the forum.

"The Emperor has not yet been able to demonstrate the stability nor some of the competence that he needs to demonstrate in order to be successful," Senator Corkerus railed. "He has not demonstrated that he understands what has made this nation great and what it is today, and he's got to demonstrate the characteristics of an Emperor who understands that." Caligula's supporters, notorious for leading miserable lives, are rejoicing in the chaos he has sewn and look forward to other barnyard animals taking positions of power. "He's a lyin' son-of-a-bitch," crowed one, "but he tells our kind of lies!"

Some Senators withheld direct criticism. "Sure, history has shown other countries disintegrating in similar fashion but I believe in Roman exceptionalism and the normal rules don't apply to us. Integrity is for the little countries." By in effect comparing Senators with a horse, Roman citizens have lessened their respect for the august body of the Senate. "Caligula is the only competent one. They are just jealous of him!" opined one supporter. "They say he's tricking us but that's not the case. We want someone as insane as we are and it's time we gave insanity a chance for a change. Nothing has worked before."
New Proposal To Free Roman Slaves

Senator Maximus Greedus is "fed up with the free ride we give our slaves. Providing them food, shelter and medical care is an expensive proposition. Enough is enough!" His proposal is to create a radical new system of ownership that "puts the responsibility on the slave rather than the owner for his own well-being." This is claimed to be a critical impetus for responsible behavior instead of the "immoral nurturing" happening at present.

Under the new system, called Capitalus Enslavus, slaves will receive a non-living wage and at that point the onus will be on the slave to provide for his own material needs. If the slave is too irresponsible to meet or maintain his needs then he is replaced with the next one in the queue. The other benefit to this new system is that initial buyer's fees, which can be quite substantial, will no longer be required. Slave traders have voiced vociferous opposition to the new system calling it grossly unfair to the slaves and detrimental to their lives.

Senator Greedus also has the largest chain of burger eateries in the empire. He stands to greatly benefit from the new system with its vastly reduced costs and some have called his motives into question. The Senator replied, "This is a moral imperative. Slavery must be abolished. With my new system of de facto slavery we can claim the moral high ground while still enjoying the benefits of chained servitude. Let's be truthful here, there is now and will never be an economy not built on the backs of slaves. Can you imagine the outcry if we stripped our great nation of the ability to serve a burger in under five minutes? The masses must be served!"


My fellow Romans, Rome is in a crisis of decay. No more can we turn a blind eye and hope for the best. We are the richest, most powerful nation in existence and may it always be that way. But we are not on that path. Our biggest enemies are not the Goths and Barbarians but rather those who say we can never fall from within and thus do nothing to stem the tide.

I know I'm a voice in the wilderness among blind boosters of the empire, souls who betray us by playing on our fears, cheating us out of our tomorrows by swindling today. Our citizens tear at one another's throats as they warily sense our demise. Our emperor is openly mad for the nations of the world to see, making us a target of their long enjoyed envy. Must we keep poking holes in our great ship until she finally sinks?

Perhaps, after all, it is our wish to perish. Our choices certainly indicate as such. Cheap politicians will decry these words as the voice of doom instead of a chance for life. If we demur to history to be our judge we will be forever damned. The time to act is now. It takes more than a sword to hold a nation together. I have sought the truth and this is what I found: either we seek a common good or we seek a common death.

Remember these words upon witnessing the slaughter of your children and you dare to ask why.

Senator Lucius Aurelius Cotta

Monday, August 14, 2017

Hanging Out With Billy Before His Alt-Right Rally

What's the lie that makes you feel good?

"I'm so stoked!"

I'd never seen Billy so energized since news came of a Dallas white inferiority march. He'd never been a zealot before - too lazy. I was waiting on his roommate Gerald to get back. Gerald and I don't have much in common but we both love Asian action flicks and there's a theater in Grapevine that shows a steady diet of them. But this waiting time left me with one more in an endless series of soul-shattering situations as I trudge along mired among the other losers of society.

"Gonna shake up the world, are ya?"

"You betcha!" He was adjusting his MAGA (Make Assholes Gay Again) cap completely oblivious to the sarcasm in my voice. Moron was going to make me work to insult him.

"OK. Don't forget your dunce cap!"

That right pissed him off - to no end of satisfaction on my part.

"Always have something smart to say, don't you?" I had to keep from laughing at his vexed little face. Like most of his King-Of-The-Hill-reject buddies, Billy is hospital white with a beer belly. He works in a warehouse where they play Rush Limbo over the speakers all day so he'll know who to hate and why - at least according to his programming. Billy is a dog but he's not an attack dog. He gets his identity from running with the pack. They could be marching for anything, he didn't care, just as long as it required no personal integrity and had no liberal conations risking ex-communication.

"Is it true you alt-righters are really just a bunch of repressed faggots and you hold these phony rallies because you're scared your Daddy's going to find you out?"

"You're the faggot! All you protesters are gaying out America and making us weak!"

"Don't look at me, kemosabe, I'm not protesting you. Think I'm going to let a bunch of clowns make me miss a good Korean crime thriller? No way!"

"Good! Because while you're sitting on your ass wasting your life I'll be out there doing something."

Hate can give you direction!

"Guilty on both counts," I declare with complete innocence. That threw Billy off because like most of his ilk he only knows how to counterpunch since he has no true convictions other than a feeling of needing to belong.

"OK. Well. You'll probably see me on the news tonight."

"I won't be home in time." That deflated him even further, as if I'd stripped him of purpose and a chance to display his moral superiority.

"You're missing out on life..."

"No doubt." That pummeled him into silence as he sunk down into a chair. Time to go for the kill.

"Tell me, how do you guys decide who drives the car into the counter-protesters? Do you draw straws or something?"

"Fuck you, Harry. What do you know anyway?"

"I know you're going to save me from Pedro the dishwasher and Luis the lawn mover. You go, girl!"

"That just shows how stupid you are! We're going to take that rainbow and stick it up your ass! I heard about people like you. You're a traitor to the white race."

"I know you are but what am I?" I'd suddenly felt like channeling the Trump campaign.

"See! That's so - so -"


"Exactly!" Then Billy let out all his internal fears keeping him up at night. "You'll always be that way, just driftin' and doing nothing. People will make fun of you for having nothin' and being nothin'. I'm not letting people cheat me out of what's mine!"

Suddenly, Billy was pro-immigration

"I admire your martyrdumb [using the spelling from my book]. But you know your real enemies are the big shots who keep you pea-brains fighting your fellow lower classes while Wall Street saps more and more money out of the economy while telling you Pedro the dishwasher is suppressing your wages."

"I don't know anything about that." He said it like it was a valid defense.

"That's because you've got your head up your ass, you fucking walking dildo!"

"See there! You're angry too! It's not just me. Nothing I like more than seeing you liberal wise asses pissed off."

Well, fuck, pea-brained as he may be Billy knew how to spot hate when he saw it. It is, after all, his natural habitat. It was the jolt that I needed to get back on track.

"You know, I think I'm going to skip the movie and join the protest."

"Bullshit! Really?" I heard a delicious glimmer of hope in his voice.

"Absolutely. I'm going to put my life on hold every time some moron says or does something stupid and I'm going to go out there and correct it!"

Billy's face lit up. "Alright! I can't wait to pepper spray your ass! You won't talk so big when I got the guys around."

"You mean your boyfriend's back and I'm gonna get a beatin'?"

"You're just scared!"

"Hey-la, hey-la, your boyfriend's back!"

"You're a fascist! Quit picking on me. You're part of the looney left that thinks our great President is Hitler!"

"I don't think he's Hitler - I just think Hitler is his role model."

"That's just as bad!"

"Remember that when I come up to greet you."

"I hope you do show up! We'll get your dumb ass then."

How to really piss them off

"Get moi? Really, Billy? I'll be nothing but friendship itself, calling you out by name and handing you a beautiful fresh flower."

"Don't you be handing me no flower! I'm serious!" He stepped back as if I'd drawn a knife on him.

"A beautiful yellow flower, just for you!"

"I'll kick your ass for that!"

"Repeat after me: Love is all you need!"

"I'm not listening to you!"

"No one you can save that can't be saved. Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time. It's easy!"

"Just shut the fuck up!"

Gerald came through the front door of the apartment. "I see you two are at it again. Why do you have to rile him up, Harry?"

"I dunno. Why piss on a dog's head?"

"See what I have to put up with?! I don't want him coming 'round here anymore."

I pretended to sulk. "I think I've been protested."

It's not the first time I've had that request in my life. Gerald and I were going to have to scoot to make it all the way to Grapevine before the film started. That didn't stop me, however, from saying in a loud voice in the outside hallway as we departed that we needed to stop at a flower shop first.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Goupil: Happiness Is A Warm Gun

"You realize, don't you, that these therapy sessions are an absurdity."

"Oui, oui! You say this before."

"And I'm saying it again. Give up this quest to return to contract killing. Make a life for yourself outside of that. There's a reason you're having trigger dysfunction."

"You Americans more guns than any place in world. I know, I've been every place in this world. I don't need morality from you, Mr. Doctor. I need understand what is going on."

"From your agitation it seems you tried once more to shoot and failed."

"Yes. In the woods. Aim at tree and mind locks like always now. Not even real target! When I'm there, looking through the scope, I hear everything, every bird, every wind, I feel nothing but nature and no part of me wants to leave, just surrender and sleep. How can I turn away from peace having taste it?"

"Maybe you don't need to."

"Maybe I don't need live indoor! You to pay my rent? I put down the gun. I make vow not to pick up. Longer I stay away easier it get. But money almost gone. I never find anything."

"Maybe you didn't give the jobs you tried an honest shot?"

"I should give them rifle shot! How do you Americans stand your slavery? You live like dogs so fat cats can live like kings. Where is sense in this? Why do you not rebel? You have all this money here but leave most in hands of tiny few. I come here. I try playing by your rules. I lose all respect for America."

"No one can earn a living for you."

"This I know!"

"The system won't change on your account."

"This I know, too!"

"Then just what do you expect?"

"I don't know! I always know I could never part of...this, this prison you make for people. I must breathe. I must live on outside. That what made it OK for me to kill you people, you make me what I am."

"But you have to be a part of something somewhere. Remember your fast food arrest, driving through with your exposed erection. This separation leaves you out of control. Is that how you want to live? It's a miracle your entire career didn't end that night."

"Police say I am weird Frenchman like they expect me to do that, just like they say Europe men bathing suit too small. So they let me go before they find out my background. Yes, was very close call and that scare me. I don't want to live like that, no, but no choice. Killer is only option for me."

"But you can't pull the trigger."


Goupil by this point had completely closed off his body, arms folded and legs crossed, half turning away. There was something he didn't want to see. He was secretly glad the psychologist had been of no help of getting him back into shooting form. It meant he had a plausible excuse for not understanding what he didn't want to face: that he'd never be able to kill again, that to do so would be the same as killing himself.

"So we're back where we started."

Goupil sat in a brooding silence. He hadn't told even half of his misadventures or his life on the run with his Russian-American connections knowledge (covering the tracks of Rep. Rohrabacher, years before the Presidential scandal came to light). He realized now it wasn't so much that he'd abandoned his former life as it had abandoned him, as if he'd failed to make payments on a car and it had been towed away - and would be just as difficult to get back.

Stepping back out into the afternoon summer sun, Goupil paused to watch the downtown passers-by. He hated them with their "business attire" and worldly affairs on their minds, fools who hadn't been around the block yet. If they had, Goupil would not be so alone. The true assassins were in boardrooms high above in the surrounding skyscrapers. They plot the destruction of the world as a response to imagined "enemies" who want to save it. But they don't care what anyone says as long as they believe in the concept of money.

What Goupil knew he could not share. What he saw he could not explain. A "rigged" system was not a mere perspective for him but rather his experience. He'd helped do some of that rigging. He thought he could outsmart the devils he ran with and in a way he did by remaining alive. But they had the power of state behind them knowing that in the end those on the outside would be too marginalized to affect anything. As a discarded tool of the system, Goupil was left with only facing himself.

In a vague way he felt he still had something to offer - he just couldn't imagine what. He could write a book of his life, that would be fun! They had broken the code, he owed nothing to his previous employers anymore. But who would believe him? Who would take the word of an assassin lest they be deemed an assassin too? He'd tried to get the word out before and failed. But maybe instead of trying to convince people this time, Goupil would just write for himself.

There's a truck driver shortage in this country allowing even an immigrant "job taker" to get on board. As much as he hated guiding the big rigs around town, Goupil did enjoy the solitary nature of the open road. He decided he was just to die slowly and disappear as if he'd never been born. Perhaps in a movie some act of fate would save him from oblivion but his lonely hours on the road convinced him since he'd never given love a chance (since he never thought he had a chance), how special could his misspent life have been anyway? He didn't need to be a voice telling the world it's evil, the world already knows.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

...Just Not Today

There are those who say most suffering in the world is needless and self-inflicted, that the sin in one area breeds heartache in another, like a used car salesman who swindles his customers who is then unable to have an honest home. They say we are cheating ourselves, like when we pretend there are nations when there is only one planet or that we are many races when we are, in fact, one soul. They say so many problems that seem unsolvable now will vanish in the blink of an eye once we tilt our perspective.

That's what they say, anyway.

But too many comfortable homes would be upended were we to answer those questions truly as we've built our civilization on a foundation of bribed injustice and mutual betrayal. When asked about our barbarism we simply plead, "Please, just a little longer! We'll fix it once and for all - just not today."

But there's no hope present in that so I called 1-800-GOD-LINE to talk to our Maker firsthand (never a busy signal!) As someone who's failed in both heaven and hell I ended up being most concerned about living life here on Earth. So I asked:

"What of the excruciating pain of love departed? Must we pay so dearly for our love?"

"Time will come when those tears are no more - just not today."

"And all the savagery of man competing against man. It can't go on!"

"Time will come when the lion and lamb, in all forms, lay down together - just not today."

"What of the senseless wars, of killing without seeing? We're chasing ghosts in our minds!"

"Time will come when you'll beat your swords into ploughshares and maintain armies nevermore - just not today."

"The number of poor is growing every day. The world is criminally enslaving itself to money. What's there to live for?"

"Time will come when the illusions that enslave you will be gone forever after self Revelation - just not today."

"I've seen people persecuted and jailed for speaking the truth. I've seen children mercilessly beaten with no one to turn to. I've seen the worst of the worst rise to the very top unchallenged. What's there to hope for?"

"Time will come when the world is un-perverted and permanently put in its natural order, many at the top will fall to the bottom and vice-versa - just not today."

"We wage holocausts on vulnerable groups, blaming them for our own sins. We assassinate those sent to save us. Terror after terror. Why do You not save and protect the good?"

"Time will come when the blood of the saints will be avenged - including ones whose name you do not know - just not today."

"We see vast hunger in a world that throws away food. We reward those who poison the planet. We jeer love as an impractical future. If the world keeps drowning in insanity then the world will cease to exist!"

"Yes, you are on the path to destruction taking both the innocent and the guilty. But salvation will surely come by My hand as I cannot let you perish."

"But salvation needs to be today. What good does it do to punish after a holocaust, after all the pain and suffering is wrought? It needs to be in real time.

"Now I have a question for you: When will you open your heart and finally let in the love you need and deserve?"

"I'll do that! I'll do all of that. That's something I'm most certainly going to do - just not today."

Wednesday, August 09, 2017

A Tale Of One City

"You're back! So how did it go in San Francisco?"

"It didn't."

"Why not? What did you do?"

"I did nothing. No need to."

"What of all your plans of revenge and justice and taking her down??"

"Not my call. I let it go."

"So she gets away with everything?"

"All I know is, whatever happens to her it has to have nothing to do with me."

"She'll just continue her wicked ways forever!"

"She's locked in her castle and Nature will run its course. Luckily, I have no say on that either. I'm at peace now."

"Well, you look like hell."

"I know. The price of peace is dropping my façade. I look like hell. I feel like hell. I am in hell."

"Then how can you have any peace?"

"Same way anyone does. It's beautiful to know I need not carry that load."

"So you don't want her to go down the tubes anymore?"

"Oh, I still want that, to see her exposed, ripped of all her lies. But there'd be no satisfaction in it if I had a hand in it. It has to happen naturally or not at all."

"I see. That must be a relief then."

"It is. I've got no one left to blame."

"So what now?"

"I'll just carry on in my drowning misery of which I can explain to no one in the world."

"Is there really no one who can understand?"

"No one who has time."

"It all seems like such a shame."

"It's a vast and incredible shame, unfaceable. The morning sun no longer rises for me."

"Jesus! Who can live like that?"

"Not me."

Thursday, August 03, 2017

Ending Caligula Doesn't End The Descent

Feels like old times!

Not since the idea of Caligula naming his horse as Consul have we seen such historic madness as we're watching today. The horse stunt, by the way, would have been one "designed to insult and humiliate senators and other elites." Sound familiar? A person in a country's most powerful position with an insatiable inferiority complex who descends into daylight madness right before the public's eyes. Instead of conversing with the moon he barks at the TV. Instead of sibling incest he openly objectifies his daughter. Instead of feeding prisoners to wild beasts he names Jeff Sessions Attorney General.

The parallels of monstrosity are frightening.

Dumb fucker held another of his Nuremberg rallies today just to hear somebody not call him an asshole. Problem is he can't stop that voice inside from calling him an asshole. That leaves his only refuge in the willing deception of his followers. But time is running out even on that as at some point they either sober up or follow the moron right off the rails. The psychological hangover will be a nasty one as they realize what fools they were though some will doubtless by like scattered Nazis after WWII who clung to the old guard however hopeless or irrelevant.

The suckers who believe immigration is the source of our woes will be cast by history in the same light as lemmings who chose to say Jews were the source of 1930's Germany's woes. May God damn them with an appropriate fate, to sip from the same cup of injustice of which they dole out. There are those who appeal to our better angels ("Ask not what your country can do for you...") and those who appeal to our baser instincts. Which voice we raise up defines us as a nation. The liars are laughing and glorifying themselves now. But we should pity them as they dig their holes of future sadness ever deeper.

"Politics is entertainment"

The clown prince's days are numbered but just like in ancient Rome the king's madness is part of a greater truth. Despite the daily spectacle of watching the peccadillos of a foreign controlled puppet dying to confess his sins melt down in broad daylight, this obscures the true evilness of an agenda born out of uncontrollable fear. "Chop off any head as long as it's not mine," seems to be America's new mantra - a mantra echoed throughout history by other self-vanquished nations.

As Rome worshipped military power we worship corporate power. And while we may have two brands of that worship, both in the end are a cult of death. (Of course, geniuses that we are, this will have to be borne out to be true before we change! But you can prove me wrong and make me look like an idiot, I wouldn't mind.) Every life and thus every nation must have a direction. Who envisions corporate power and corruption going on the wane? This is the bet our ambitious leaders make, that we will be too corrupt or fearful to turn from our path no matter how brutal our fate may be. And it's the role of a politician to know you better than you know yourself.

The benefit of a Caligula is that the insanity is so obvious it repulses the masses and impairs his ability to rule. But others with more cunning are watching from the wings, seeing just how far the masses are willing to self-immolate. They will use that knowledge against their people to suck the life out of them in vampiric glee. We all know what is the ultimate wage of sin and it's very appealing to hear you can wall that out with a giant fence! (Trumpy's wall is, after all, a metaphor for our transgressions). But protecting our selfishness is not the same as protecting ourselves. Fact is, protecting your idiocy costs you everything you love - this I do surely know.

"Elect me! Elect me now!"

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”