In order to have hope for a future we must be reasonable and rational. If we are without reason and irrational then there can be no hope. You can't vote your way out of that or pill your way out of that or religion your way out of that. It's simply an inescapable law of Nature. God won't help anyone who thinks otherwise.
But the longing for hope can be overwhelmed by fear and so when we see a monster about whom we can do nothing, we start ascribing human qualities to it so we can then go back into a state of hope - albeit a false hope. So I ask you today to jettison your fear and false hopes and face the beast for what it is: something with which we cannot live.
The beauty of identity politics is that is throws all facts out the window. Make up whatever you want just so long as it justifies me. Sure, I know you're lying, but who cares? It makes me feel good, that's all that matters. Make people feel good and they'll vote for you. Fiction becomes reality (for a time).
The fiction that's been gaining the most steam over the last few years is that the victimizers are the victim and the victims are the victimizer. "How dare all you unarmed darkies get in the way of my bullet and then have the gall to die on me later just to make me look bad! You black bullies!" I could go on but the refrains are endless. Like a gold rush of yore, everyone's climbing all over each other to claim the victim moniker.
So it stands to reason that in this perverse equation, the biggest victimizer claims to be the biggest victim. But our Victimizer-in-Chief is not a victim. Those who support him support him to the degree they believe he is a victim. You hear the halftards say all the time, "Yeah, he does bad things but people are being mean to him." And the full Trumptards justify his deranged behavior fully, granting wholesale absolution. That's how identity politics works in its treachery.
Those without hope love to destroy hope for others. That is the true war we're seeing today. Regardless of what anyone else may choose, the goal is always to preserve the hope within oneself. Do that, and you will defeat the world.
Saturday, June 23, 2018
Monday, June 18, 2018
Goupil Papers: I Am The Monster
I'm writing from the high point of hiking trail. No one approach me from here I cannot view. Car half mile away in neighborhood nearby, not in parking lot easy to spot. Cell phone in Faraday bag like always. I'm looking for something. I'm looking for me.
There is something I been afraid to do. In gradual way I been getting closer and now, in my safe spot, I let it happen. For just a moment I stop hating myself. What most strange about this is it feels right thing to do. How can this be? After many terrible things I do, lives I destroyed, I should always be hating myself. Is right thing to do, no? If anyone find out I'm not hating myself, what would they do? What would they say?
So I have to be all alone to let this thing happen. Voice inside me say "Yes!" when I do this. Does the Maker not know what I've done? I have huge urge to let it keep going, to surrender to this feeling and path. But how can I trust it? How can I be deserving of forgiveness and life?? It makes no sense! To never forgive myself is my only hope, yes? Inside me is war.
This liberation also give me something else. I see something I not see before. I stepped through looking glass like I never dare before. That's when I see me through other's eyes. They just see my actions, what I do. They don't hear what I tell myself when I pull the trigger. I feel pity for me, victim of the world, still running from rough docks of my long lost France. I know what you see now: You see a monster.
You are right.
The ones who saw me, who let out death scream when they see what coming, see I have no feeling. I was robot on a mission, angry at life. If my life have no value, no life does. If my dreams mean nothing, no dreams do. But you did not see it that way, did you? You see monster in your midst, a black beast, taking away light and life. This more terrible than I ever fear. I am nightmare. No wonder I destroy all relationships that good.
Maybe this be price for that moment of peace, to see what I was really was. My head say nothing I do can bring people back, that I punish myself for no reason. But if not punishing myself is right thing to do then why tsunami of guilt drowning me when I stop? If punishing myself wrong thing to do shouldn't I feel guilt then??
Yes, I was the monster assassin. I don't know how to live with it. I will probably implode and die in a fit of rage [Editor's note: He does]. I see this now. I didn't see it then. Not ever want to. What would I have done if I had?
But this scare me most of all: Why I so madly stubborn refuse to believe I can have anything good.
There is something I been afraid to do. In gradual way I been getting closer and now, in my safe spot, I let it happen. For just a moment I stop hating myself. What most strange about this is it feels right thing to do. How can this be? After many terrible things I do, lives I destroyed, I should always be hating myself. Is right thing to do, no? If anyone find out I'm not hating myself, what would they do? What would they say?
So I have to be all alone to let this thing happen. Voice inside me say "Yes!" when I do this. Does the Maker not know what I've done? I have huge urge to let it keep going, to surrender to this feeling and path. But how can I trust it? How can I be deserving of forgiveness and life?? It makes no sense! To never forgive myself is my only hope, yes? Inside me is war.
This liberation also give me something else. I see something I not see before. I stepped through looking glass like I never dare before. That's when I see me through other's eyes. They just see my actions, what I do. They don't hear what I tell myself when I pull the trigger. I feel pity for me, victim of the world, still running from rough docks of my long lost France. I know what you see now: You see a monster.
You are right.
The ones who saw me, who let out death scream when they see what coming, see I have no feeling. I was robot on a mission, angry at life. If my life have no value, no life does. If my dreams mean nothing, no dreams do. But you did not see it that way, did you? You see monster in your midst, a black beast, taking away light and life. This more terrible than I ever fear. I am nightmare. No wonder I destroy all relationships that good.
Maybe this be price for that moment of peace, to see what I was really was. My head say nothing I do can bring people back, that I punish myself for no reason. But if not punishing myself is right thing to do then why tsunami of guilt drowning me when I stop? If punishing myself wrong thing to do shouldn't I feel guilt then??
Yes, I was the monster assassin. I don't know how to live with it. I will probably implode and die in a fit of rage [Editor's note: He does]. I see this now. I didn't see it then. Not ever want to. What would I have done if I had?
But this scare me most of all: Why I so madly stubborn refuse to believe I can have anything good.
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Goupil Papers: One Hit Wonder
[Found among the papers of international assassin Goupil after his death by self-inflicted wound.]
Some men not known to history but their historic deeds are. We only know names of assassins we catch. But I wish to chronicle these men who share my profession. I do this even though I feel I have no profession - at least, I don't see assassin as my identity. My identity lost along the way. It start when I leave France then only to find I was running from who I was ever after. As of this writing, I'm still not found.
This story is from 70's era. In this world, hard to know what true but I write this for me and me alone. Maybe this because I feel I Goupil will slip from this earth without being known. The path before me is hidden. I fear what that mean. As this story shows, we live on razor's edge.
Trujillo was regular hit man. Mob guys use him but he not one of them. For special kills mob need outsiders. Trujillo liked being on the outside but he still has pressure of what expected. His target was federal judge. Do that and they will shake the trees to find you until something fall out. Someone somewhere know something. So he didn't want to do this hit but once asked you have to say yes or you become loose end.
Trujillo has panic but gets idea walking New York streets. He sees hobos in park, anonymous men with anonymous lives. They could do anything and no one ever know. Yes, gendarme hate them for being poor but that a good thing. These men don't count. But Trujillo no want to live like bums. So he get idea: get hobo to do killing!
Sound crazy stupid at first but if you think you can see. Hobo does kill, kill hobo, what is left to point to you? Yes, you must be desperate to try that. Setting up another guy cross my mind once or twice. But many things must fall in place for that to work, seem to me. Trujillo starts hanging around park, being a face. He finds a guy. Only God know his name now. Trujillo never tell anyone.
Time was very short. Trujillo plan quick kill in apartment parking garage. Would look like mugger and hobo's body would confuse police. Ten thousand American promised to the hobo. Back then that could change a life, that much. Buy car, start over someplace else. Hobo could get life from death. Trujillo know something else: Bum is homo. Even before killing, this is man who keep secret to himself. Probably shunned by family, living shadow life, perfect.
But Trujillo forget who he is. Assassins always outsider nobodies. We are part of nothing. Hard to remember that as watching families go by knowing that can never be you. It like falling in the air not knowing if you land. You want to be somebody too. I'm sure idiot Trujillo was thinking he finally find bigger loser than him. Gay loser bum everyone scorn and disavow. I can see this appeal. Trujillo play role of authority, the one in charge of person to be throwaway.
But homo hobo still a person. Yes, he spend lifetime learning to hide in shadows and lie. But by staying alive he step outside what others speak of him. If not, he eat a bullet. He become cunning creature answering only to himself. You see, that's psychological advantage assassin has: easy to read others when they follow rules and you do not. But hobo follow even less rules than Trujillo.
So when time come to shoot judge, hobo shoot Trujillo instead. But judge spot him doing this so judge gets it too. That hella mystery for police when bullet from Trujillo gun not match bullet in judge! Later on many years, rat tell cops mob hire Trujillo. Papers never print bullet not match so they know rat telling the truth. No one left to explain third person, though. Hobo take the money and run.
Wish I could say what happened in the end. No one even know how this story come to be told, maybe Trujillo have partner. Story just "known." Hobo killer have makings of great assassin. But I do not think he go that way. I think he go cross country, buy a house and visit parks at night. He discover world not holy and pure as it say and he not worthless like they say. He probably become respectable executive - but always smiling to himself.
But Trujillo is lesson for me. If cop reading this go fuck yourself. I don't want to die by cop hand. I don't think they any better than me. Politicians worse killers of all! Their feet leave ground and they do anything never have to touch down again. Stupid peoples can't see through them mean they just as bad. I had to face these things and it is heavy load. But I always know I'm bad man too, never better than them. And never good enough for one I want.
Some men not known to history but their historic deeds are. We only know names of assassins we catch. But I wish to chronicle these men who share my profession. I do this even though I feel I have no profession - at least, I don't see assassin as my identity. My identity lost along the way. It start when I leave France then only to find I was running from who I was ever after. As of this writing, I'm still not found.
This story is from 70's era. In this world, hard to know what true but I write this for me and me alone. Maybe this because I feel I Goupil will slip from this earth without being known. The path before me is hidden. I fear what that mean. As this story shows, we live on razor's edge.
Trujillo was regular hit man. Mob guys use him but he not one of them. For special kills mob need outsiders. Trujillo liked being on the outside but he still has pressure of what expected. His target was federal judge. Do that and they will shake the trees to find you until something fall out. Someone somewhere know something. So he didn't want to do this hit but once asked you have to say yes or you become loose end.
Trujillo has panic but gets idea walking New York streets. He sees hobos in park, anonymous men with anonymous lives. They could do anything and no one ever know. Yes, gendarme hate them for being poor but that a good thing. These men don't count. But Trujillo no want to live like bums. So he get idea: get hobo to do killing!
Sound crazy stupid at first but if you think you can see. Hobo does kill, kill hobo, what is left to point to you? Yes, you must be desperate to try that. Setting up another guy cross my mind once or twice. But many things must fall in place for that to work, seem to me. Trujillo starts hanging around park, being a face. He finds a guy. Only God know his name now. Trujillo never tell anyone.
Time was very short. Trujillo plan quick kill in apartment parking garage. Would look like mugger and hobo's body would confuse police. Ten thousand American promised to the hobo. Back then that could change a life, that much. Buy car, start over someplace else. Hobo could get life from death. Trujillo know something else: Bum is homo. Even before killing, this is man who keep secret to himself. Probably shunned by family, living shadow life, perfect.
But Trujillo forget who he is. Assassins always outsider nobodies. We are part of nothing. Hard to remember that as watching families go by knowing that can never be you. It like falling in the air not knowing if you land. You want to be somebody too. I'm sure idiot Trujillo was thinking he finally find bigger loser than him. Gay loser bum everyone scorn and disavow. I can see this appeal. Trujillo play role of authority, the one in charge of person to be throwaway.
But homo hobo still a person. Yes, he spend lifetime learning to hide in shadows and lie. But by staying alive he step outside what others speak of him. If not, he eat a bullet. He become cunning creature answering only to himself. You see, that's psychological advantage assassin has: easy to read others when they follow rules and you do not. But hobo follow even less rules than Trujillo.
So when time come to shoot judge, hobo shoot Trujillo instead. But judge spot him doing this so judge gets it too. That hella mystery for police when bullet from Trujillo gun not match bullet in judge! Later on many years, rat tell cops mob hire Trujillo. Papers never print bullet not match so they know rat telling the truth. No one left to explain third person, though. Hobo take the money and run.
Wish I could say what happened in the end. No one even know how this story come to be told, maybe Trujillo have partner. Story just "known." Hobo killer have makings of great assassin. But I do not think he go that way. I think he go cross country, buy a house and visit parks at night. He discover world not holy and pure as it say and he not worthless like they say. He probably become respectable executive - but always smiling to himself.
But Trujillo is lesson for me. If cop reading this go fuck yourself. I don't want to die by cop hand. I don't think they any better than me. Politicians worse killers of all! Their feet leave ground and they do anything never have to touch down again. Stupid peoples can't see through them mean they just as bad. I had to face these things and it is heavy load. But I always know I'm bad man too, never better than them. And never good enough for one I want.
Napalm Don And Chemical Kim K-I-S-S-I-N-G
SINGAPORE (AP) Two evil perverts met today in what many fools say they believe will lead to lasting peace and goodwill on Earth. "It's better to have evil perverts talking than not talking," claimed one columnist who placed hope in speaking well of evil. Others are not so sure.
The two men found they had much in common. "I truly admire your traitorous treatment of the inferior Puerto Ricans. Making them drink poisoned water was hilarious," guffawed Chemical Kim. Napalm Don admired his companion's open hostility to his enemies by placing them directly into death camps. "I sure do know a bunch of crazy Democrats and lying reporters I'd like to see tortured to death!"
The two maladjusted miscreants warmed to each other in intimate moments of shared desires and deeds, trying to one up the other. "I steal babies right from their arms and then 'lose' them so they can't be found! Am I draining the swamp or what?" boasted Napalm Don. His cohort did one better bragging of causing mass starvation so extreme "people leave their babies out in the open hoping someone will take them who can feed them!" Each congratulated the other on his "disruptive" nature and mutual hatred of mankind.
Both agreed "democracy is for losers" and shared a gentle kiss on the lips to seal the deal. Papers were signed declaring peace will come to the world by making it safe for evil. "We are united in this shared endeavor so that all bad men may come together as one. Praise us for the peace we bring!"
The two men found they had much in common. "I truly admire your traitorous treatment of the inferior Puerto Ricans. Making them drink poisoned water was hilarious," guffawed Chemical Kim. Napalm Don admired his companion's open hostility to his enemies by placing them directly into death camps. "I sure do know a bunch of crazy Democrats and lying reporters I'd like to see tortured to death!"
The two maladjusted miscreants warmed to each other in intimate moments of shared desires and deeds, trying to one up the other. "I steal babies right from their arms and then 'lose' them so they can't be found! Am I draining the swamp or what?" boasted Napalm Don. His cohort did one better bragging of causing mass starvation so extreme "people leave their babies out in the open hoping someone will take them who can feed them!" Each congratulated the other on his "disruptive" nature and mutual hatred of mankind.
Both agreed "democracy is for losers" and shared a gentle kiss on the lips to seal the deal. Papers were signed declaring peace will come to the world by making it safe for evil. "We are united in this shared endeavor so that all bad men may come together as one. Praise us for the peace we bring!"
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