How James Bond Truly Saved The World

Kitzbühel, Austria (AP) James Bond, the man who survived dozens of dangerous missions was killed today by gunshot while skiing in the Austrian Alps. In a statement issued by British intelligence agency MI6, foul play has "definitely not been ruled out" as any myriad of suspects or even countries could be responsible for what could quite possibly be a revenge killing. MI6 also iterated that the man known to the world as 007 was not on any sort of mission.

Since his wandering days as a youth before entering her majesty's secret service, Mr. Bond had been an avid skier in the Alps and was considered to have had world class talent had he chosen that for a career. The shot came from long range as Bond was slicing his way down the famous Kitzbühel downhill. MI6 officials confirm only an expert shot could have done this, most likely a professional. "We will be most vigorously investigating this outrage and those responsible will be brought to justice with extreme prejudice," according to C, head of MI6.

Current and former world leaders expressed outrage and dismay, often noting a feeling of helplessness and uneasiness for the future without Bond's skills to ensure security. "We're on our own now," lamented a former President who wished to remain anonymous. Conspiracy theories have been quick to rise up, ranging from a Russian revenge killing to an internal assassination by the British to even Bond still being alive. Whatever the truth, sorrow and pity pour forth from every quarter of the world.

The death of Bond was like adding a flame under a pot of water, the temperature gradually rising to a boil. As time passed, his death became more real to the general public who now felt vulnerable to the sick and twisted plans that constantly beset the world. It was like a free-for-all had been declared, even down to the common street mugger who felt suddenly emboldened by what seemed a collapse in the rule of law. Statistics in every category of crime saw a sharp spike with no end in sight. Calls for a "new James Bond" cried out but no one could answer the bell.

The anxiety of an increasingly concerned public finally boiled over as ad hoc community groups formed in order to stem the epidemic crime wave. From these grassroots organizations, national cooperations were formed across the globe by those who felt their government could no longer protect them. Those who'd never taken the effects of evildoers seriously while in the womb of 007's caretaking joined together with liberals to root out liars from positions of power. This was done with an urgency never seen before as the threat to a common freedom was fully realized amid a fear of "being thrown back to the stone age." In the end, it was realized secret agents - no matter how capable - were incapable of insuring the peace without the engagement of the larger populace.

CODA: It had been five years since Bond's "death" as the former 00 agent sipped his martini in quiet repose at his Goldeneye estate in Jamaica. Once he had seen the world secure itself - and from that there's no turning back - he exposed the truth of his continuing existence. During those years he'd been able to mend his failing marriage that had been weighing heavily on his heart for years on end, bordering on drowning. A long suppressed yearning for haiku poetry had been unleashed with small books published under a nom de plume receiving critical acclaim. The entire idea had been Bond's as he had simply stated to C: "If I can't save me, then how can I save the world - and why should I?"

Concrete Cover Up

"What you did is an act of sheer madness. There's no reversing the consequences. Frankly, I don't see how a garden can survive that."

My therapist is supposed to be the best. At least he charges like he is anyway.

"I have a new argument. See, I was wrong in my thinking when I paved over my garden. I thought I had to, no choice. But now I see I could have let the flowers grow, only I couldn't see that then. So, even though I'm thinking now that nothing can grow in concrete, maybe that's just me having a bad attitude again!"

"Doesn't get more specious than that. And even if you were able to persuade someone of that nonsense, would that put any actual flowers in your home?"

"No, but..."

My backyard is private. No one knows what shame I've done. It's too incredibly stupid to be believed. I need to be able to sell myself on the argument I can have flowers if I'm going to be able to sell that to everyone else. Lying is dying in the end, though.

"Just what was your rationale for that sick and perverted act of pouring concrete?"

"I couldn't trust me."

"You mean you passed judgment on yourself?"

"Yes. Now I can't stop passing judgment of everybody. I want them to be in the same hole I am. It's not even something I believe in."

"Have you at least tried to break up the concrete?"

"Yes, but I was so certain - so absolutely certain - I couldn't be trusted that I bought the unbreakable kind. No force on earth can break it. I prayed for God to break it but not even a crack yet."

"Life without flowers is an impossibility."

"Thank you! I know that! I buy seeds every year just like the normal people do. Down at the garden center I have these fake conversations about what kind of soil grows best just to put on a show. I tried putting the seeds on top but nothing grows, of course."

"You're hoping to defy the laws of Nature?"

"It's my only hope."

"Frankly, all the therapy in the world can't help. It's like getting therapy for starvation. Only food can resolve it. We can talk all you want - and I surely believe you are quite naturally miserable beyond belief - but what can I or anyone do?"

"I don't know...I was just hoping against hope. I'm beyond tired faking like I have a future. I can't make it through one single night without having nightmares. It's four AM and I'm driven out of bed screaming."

"Every deception has a price."

"I knew it was wrong when I did it. But I was so hardheaded - it seemed more real than the sun that I couldn't be trusted. I didn't want to be exposed. I declared myself a bad man who doesn't deserve a garden. That made it in my mind a moral act to put in the concrete."

"And what of your friend who planted the flowers you paved over? What does she say?"

"She won't talk to me under any circumstances. It's impossible to face her. I wanted to tell her when she planted them I wasn't someone to be trusted. I was so insanely happy those few months the flowers were there I was on top of the world. But the guilt was killing me, oppressing me day after day. How could I tell her I was not trustworthy? I was dying to come clean."

"And the concrete was your way of expressing that?"

"Yes. She'd know for sure I wasn't trustworthy then. But that wasn't really coming clean after all, was it? Just made things worse. Impossible really. I knew I'd die from it but her friendship is worth dying for."

"Did you get any indication of her reaction?"

"I'm sure I hurt her paving over the flowers and the whole garden. She thinks I rejected them when obviously (to me) I was rejecting myself. She has no idea I think of those flowers every day and how much I hate myself. I just can't approach her or face her in any way. I broke my own heart and that of person I most wanted to be best friends and family."

"Oftentimes people make hating themselves their new "morality". Has that wrongheadedness happened to you?"

"I know you're right but, man, is it hard to resist. I walk around the house yelling at myself, calling me a "moron" and "motherfucker" because I can't stop the rage building up. I call it the 'Crime of 09'. No way out. I even voted for evil in my drowning frustration."

"Yes, the President is in the same leaky boat as you. And you told me your sex fantasies include you being in a cage. Yet every spirit strives to be free regardless. Your false logic says that as a so-called "bad man" you don't deserve freedom, you point to the concrete garden as staged "proof", and therefore you're "doing the right thing" by caging yourself. But you're never going to not desire to be free no matter what kind of narrative you construct."

"That's just peachy," I replied in defeated sarcasm, falling into silence. I fixated on the Dali clock he had draped over the edge of his desk. The ticking sounds were somehow reassuring. I wondered if he did that by design or was it just in me head. "Don't you have anything for me?? Any advice at all? The whole situation seems completely impossible! I just want to die!"

"There's always the obvious, of course."

"What is that??"

"With love, anything is possible."

Debby saving me from the Factory Grind

The Man Who Whispered In My Ear

"I wish you could know what I have to know:" he whispered. "Only extremists make it to heaven."

In the world he'd been knighted an Important Man. How true that really is I guess would be up to your estimation of the judgment of the world (here's a clue: lying is never important).  But I'm in a slim minority in that regard. Pretty much everyone I come across has latched onto something to make them feel safe. And that's how they get ya. Because, brother, I'm here to tell you safe is nothing but an illusion. But there's plenty of folks ready to take what you got just so they can feel a little bit safer - especially if it's your soul.

Safe is for the dead.

So what's your poison? Preacher, politician, or another power junkie? Whomever or whatever it is, it's nothing more than a dog chasing his tail. The game is up, the party is over. What you think is the beginning of your free ride is the ending of your real one - and the real one is all you got in this life, sucka. But you gotta get there on your own on this. Lay down your money and make your bet on what will save you - and God help you if you think this is a game. It's the furthest fucking thing from it.

So this Important Man whispering in my ear knows I'm trapped, cut off every which way I turn. He's surely making his bet and the odds are on his side. This is my time to look into the abyss and see nothing looking back. The offer is implicit: Do what you're told and there'll be a reward. And if you don't...you're hung out to dry - or worse. But like I said, that doesn't make him any less full of shit.

Channeling his inner Patton

You know what a uniform is? A mirage of the mind. A man in a tutu is no different than a man in a general's clothes. Would you kill on orders from a man in a tutu? But you would from a man with a chest full of metals [sic]! If so, go fuck yourself, you simple-minded sot. I ain't you. And the Important Man just made a bad bet. He's been getting his own way for too long.

"Homo says what?"

"Don't be impertinent! I'm not pissing around and you're in no position to argue. Believe me when I tell you that. " I check my nails and see they need clipping again. Crap, seems like I just did that. "I'll make this easy for you. There's a bad guy who needs killing. You're going to kill him. Do this and you'll have our full support."

I turned to face him with a wry smile, reveling on what had to be the funniest words I'd heard in a long time. Igor here really thinks I'm going to fall for this. Now, I certainly won't deny my life is a living hell tearing me apart and that my options have run out. But like I heard one man I admire say: "I may have lost everything - but not my sense of humor." That guy really was important. But this fucker in my ear gets all his worth from outside.

"Do your worst, buckwheat. I got no time for an orange nigger like you."

"You fool! It's not me you're screwing, but yourself. Do what we say and you'll have praise, glory, and most of all, our love."

Republicans have sanctioned Russian killings of Americans

"Yeah, you perverts always get that backwards. Who's a fart-sniffer like you to sanction anything? You don't honestly think you're smart enough to tell me who to shoot, do you?" I snorted.

"It doesn't matter what you think. Only what we think. That's how you give your life meaning! You need to serve a higher purpose. You better get with the program, mister, and God help you if you think there's not deadly consequences in store."

"I have no intention of getting with the pogrom."

"Apparently you live in a fantasy world, boy, devoid of reality. There's dangerous terrorists who need to be killed before they kill us. Are you a coward and a traitor? Now I'm going to iterate for last time. It's kill or be killed. Do you understand what I'm saying? Think of you're own self-preservation. Do you understand that killing needs to be done??"

I nodded my head and slowly whispered in his ear: "Now you will know what I have to know." Then I shot him dead.

The Day The Plumber Came Over

Nobody's going to believe my story - everyone has gotten everything so twisted at this point there's no getting the truth out through all the confusion anyway, so I'll just plow right ahead regardless in as concise fashion as I can. I will admit, though, it's hard to believe the downfall of a nation started with a busted sink.

He was supposed to be good. He promised he was the greatest plumber ever. He lived in a big house with fancy cars so he must be doing something right I (wrongly) assumed. Little did I know then that his father had bailed him out of bankruptcy six times and none of his cash was his own. Still, why would someone be so absolutely hellbent on being proclaimed a great plumber without some sort of ability to be so? Again, I (wrongly) reasoned he couldn't be a total fraud making his many extreme boasts.

He shows up with three helpers just for my little sink which made me scratch my head but it wasn't until later I realized that was part of his "distract and confuse" campaign he conducts 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I mean, who thought anyone could be so absurdly pathetic? But the plumber was counting on that. It's not until the smoke clears the homeowner has any idea what's really going on. And in my fucking case, that's a literal fucking statement.

First I hear this bitter bickering between the plumber and his helpers who demand he should fix it one way while the plumber wants to do it another way (he knows only one way whether it works or not). Finally, the helpers storm off in disgust ("The bastard hasn't paid us anyway") but the plumber severely badmouths them as "incompetent morons". This was also part of my education process: that the plumber always accuses others of his own sins. I should have cut ties then and there but I still wanted to believe in him and I thought it curious his workers complained of not being paid when I'd seen with my own eyes the plumber's wealth. He has no reason not to pay!

I do remember thinking: "If he's so smart and his helpers so dumb, why did he hire them in the first place?" But the plumber had a way of constantly bombarding you with chaos that never allows logic to take hold. I knew something was wrong, I just couldn't place it. But the plumber knew. That rat bastard knew before he got there he was no good. At that time I couldn't comprehend the amount of evil within. This loser would go to any length to have the world think he's a great plumber. It was life and death for him!

He says for me to relax in the living room as I hear him clanking around in the kitchen taking what seemed to me an inordinate amount of time. He kept giving me updates on his "progress" and how the original plumbers were no good and now I was in good hands and my sink would be "best in the world" when he was done. In my naivete I chuckled at his ridiculous statements and promised myself never to hire him again once I got my simple issue resolved. But that chance never came as we now well know.

I jumped out of the chair at the first smell of smoke. As I made it to the now abandoned kitchen I heard the plumber's van screeching away as I actually felt the explosion beneath my sink as it blew up. By the time the fire department was done the majority of my house had burned down and I was dumbfounded in a state of shock as to what actually just happened. Surely I didn't run into the biggest monster in the world, did I?

In retrospect, why yes, I did!

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was getting elected."

It was like I had won the anti-lottery. Of all the people I could have called in the world to fix my sink, I not only get a retard but a psychopath to boot! The fire chief showed me the burned out shell of a gas can beneath my sink, asking me how it got there. I explained to him about the plumber working on it and he said that plumber belonged in jail for the rest of his life. I did not disagree. He was clearly trying to cover up his inabilities by destroying the scene of his crime. Never in my life had I wanted to kill someone as much as I did that arsonist maniac on the loose.

But I was always one step behind. The monster had already got a story out to the press that I had left a full gas can beneath my sink and when he, the alleged plumber, tries to tell me that was the cause of my problems and I should get rid of it and that when I refused he stormed off due to his not wanting to lower his "ethical standards". I was aghast when reporters asked me about this accusation, bewildered how this could even be happening. But in the following days, already 50% of the country believed the plumber's story over mine!

I got affidavits from the three helpers as to what really happened but the plumber called them "outright liars" in the strongest possible terms and "losers who will say anything to protect their reputation." But that's exactly what the monster was doing! How could anyone not see that?? Next I got a lawsuit for leaving a bad review online about the plumber so others would not fall into the same nightmare I had. And then I hear these "complaints" about my so-called "lack of civility" from these crazed hypocrites over my justified outrage at this motherfucker burning down my house to cover up his own inadequacies!

"That poor man. He's been so wronged. People need to wake up and not tolerate this sort of behavior. I know I for one will not!" You know who said that? Some wacko defending the plumber after I voiced my complaints on TV. This nutjob made me out to be perpetrator of burning down my own house and when asked why I would do such a thing he quotes his radical conspiracy theory I had murdered someone and buried a body I needed covering up. The unreality of the situation was mind-numbing.

All I can say is this is certainly a godless world we live in, where truth counts for very little or nothing. Eventually I figured out where the support for the plumber was coming from: they are vicious murderous creeps just like he is. They know perfectly well he does wrong and love more than anything seeing that creep get away with it. It's like there's this whole sea of failures walking around out there aiming to do nothing but blame their victims while these criminals cast themselves as victims. Madness!

So I've stated my story with God as my witness. The political types who call it "divisive" can go fuck themselves too. We need to see who stands with the truth and who does not - nothing overrides that in importance. Love is not the enemy. And our Maker knows we cannot ultimately survive with these destroyers among us. First they will identify themselves, then they will be forever wiped off the face of the planet. God's will be done!

EPILOGUE: It's been over two long insane years and there's nary a neighborhood without at least one burned out carcass of a home. The real nightmare, of course, is the message left to the homes still standing: Do as the arsonists say...or else. The plumber gave rise to a new, more daring wave of evil never seen before. The anarchists walked freely down the streets, mocking their victims, with shirts declaring "Fuck your feelings" and wrapping their arms with phony burn bandages. This will get worse before it gets better.

For Your Lies Only

"I Ain't Like You Fuckers"

So this Debby Downer comes along the other day saying that one day I'm going to die. Oh, really, honey pie? Let me ask you something, do I look dead to you? Not going to happen to me, sister, and don't you forget it! She goes on claim it happens to everyone, no exceptions. "Well, then, I'll be the first, little girl!"

I gotta say that really chapped her ass and I loved it! That face of hers got all red and swollen with rage like nobody's business. She said she had truth on her side. Well, good for you, Kellogg Corn Flake! That's really special! We'll have to give you a medal or something. What a moron. Truth is for losers. And that's exact reason why I think I'm going to live forever and she thinks she's dying every day. How do ya like them apples??

I know what it is. She got that envy thing going. Sorry. Can't help you. I ain't like you fuckers. You so damn fired up to believe I'm going to die, then prove it! She just starts mumbling how everybody just somehow magically knows this and all these other fairy tales. Hey, honey, you want proof from me I'm right? It's right here! Ain't no android standing here talking to you, just me in the good ol' living human flesh.

And she thinks I make up stuff. What about that Jesus dude she always talking about? Didn't he come back to life to never die again? So technically, that makes me the second. Me and Jesus will be hanging out at the bar watching all you nonbelievers drop off one by one as we shake our heads. Positivity is what we're about and the rest of you losers don't know what you're missing. You can lead an ass to water...

The Bankruptcy

Susan was livid with the news of her firing. "I told you over a year ago this would happen."

The CEO, sitting in benign contempt at his reserved table in the executive dining room, sliced off another piece of his steak.

"So you did." He took delicious delight in the morsel.

"So just why then are you letting me go and keeping Wilson who said nothing?"

"Wilson's one of us."

"You mean he's male like you?"

"Not in the least. But you have to be like us if you want to stick with us."

"I'm not getting what you're saying. You don't mean you're glad you didn't see this bankruptcy coming?"

"That's precisely what I mean."

"What!?? I would think the firm would want to do everything in its power to avoid that!" Susan crossed her arms across her heaving chest as the outrage within could barely be contained.

"You'll never get to the top in this world with that attitude. We're not running a home for wayward boys. We're a finance firm. We play with numbers and money magically appears and disappears with no real basis in fact. That's what we do - and that's what we're going to keep on doing come hell or high water."

"And just how do you plan to keep doing that while bankrupt??" inquired an aghast Susan.

"Bankruptcy is nothing. We'll scrub our debts clean and be back in business in no time. You still don't get it, do you?"

Susan snorted in disbelief. "I guess not," she replied with dripping sarcasm.

"The game is rigged. We - those who run this industry - fixed it in our favor. We've got everyone in our pocket down to the hard-working janitor who hopes to get ahead in our rigged system, thinking he's being "responsible" and "honest" to believe in it. Quite hilarious really. And here you come along lecturing us. You had your say. You were right. Take your victory lap! Then take your very generous severance package, tell all the world how rigged the game is - and see how nothing changes, ever."

The fruits of coddling evil

Fuck You Bill Maher, And The Nazi You Rode In On

So my man Bill has been lecturing lately on how we can gotta love supporters of President Judas. To which I can only say: Go fuck yourself, Bill! I can despise anyone and anything I want at any time. When your country is being run by Nazis, then united we fall! Fuck these motherfuckers who want to burn everything down. I say we should burn THEM down. And I'll tell you something else: That's what they think too!

They are begging for someone to tell them the truth. They WANT someone to unleash them from their lies. They know they're lying to us and to themselves. And what do you want to do? Spare poor baby's feelings? Coddle criminal behavior? Hell to the no on that! We need to slap these people upside the head, tell them to quit whining and moaning all the time on what victims they are. They're not victims, they're losers - just like their loser leader.

Love takes no prisoners. Fool yourself at your own peril. Those who claim hope for despair and despair in hope are doomed without recourse. The remedy they seek to apply to others is what needs to be applied to them. By their own words they choose this - and no is pointing a gun at their head to do so. Life is hard and no one gets a free ride. But telling people it's OK to drink poison because you don't want to "offend" is unforgivable. Contrary to popular belief, no one was ever put on this planet to be "elected", only to be free.

"Somebody's probably lost a dog." Classic Bond!

Auto Biography

My destiny was for the finest -

but I often chose otherwise

I was born an American in Australia, my father having transferred there just as he had been all over the world. He was a pioneer in computer programming, authoring the Sabre reservation system for American Airlines as one of his accomplishments. His career was cut short, however, as both my parents died in a sightseeing helicopter accident while flying over Australia's famous Outback territory.

And so it was there I was raised by both Aborigines and the slick city streets of bustling Melbourne. A headstrong wild child from the start, whenever I got tired of one I ran to the other, each environment feeding me in its own way. In both places I sought out the spots of uncontrolled chaos that let me feel alive. The Outback offered a freedom I've found nowhere else in the world, as if stepping back to a legendary time where men answered to no one. But I also loved the mythic thrill of the city where anonymous gods roamed the streets and I thrived hanging out in the Bohemian districts growing up.

My foster homes were just another set of buildings far as I was concerned. I had no home. Having read Errol Flynn's autobiography, I decided to follow in his footsteps as much as I could (seemed a noble goal at the time). I was never as athletically gifted as him but I had looks and intelligence, both of which assisted me in my reckless ways as I left the safe confines of Australia to go island hopping about the tropics.

Long story short, wasn't near as glamorous as ol' Errol made it out to be - or rather, as glamorous as I read it to be. I had pictured life as an endless adventure, all one had to do was believe. Problem with being an adrenaline junkie is you reach a dead end where the excitement dies. The glitter of the world faded before my eyes. So I made my way to America, the land of opportunity, like an exotic bird who'd lost his nest and flown into port. Frankly, I had a bad feeling.

I drifted everywhere. Australia was wide open like I love, but the contrasts here are magnificent as you travel from coast to coast. I only made enough money to get by and charmed my way into beds whenever I could. Oh, there were female offers along the way, but my restless heart always searched for "more" while having my breakfast in America. It was a fine time but I knew it too had a shelf life. Then I got hit by the thunderbolt of Debby.

The great unrequited love of my love left me shattered when she moved on (or maybe ran away). Stuck in Miami, I plunged myself into its Sodom and Gomorrah delights, ingratiating myself into the "in" crowd driving fast cars and fast women, all the while longing for the one I'd lost. But at the end of the day I had nothing no matter how well I covered up the hole in my life. I realized I was being political and there's never a future in convincing others but not yourself.

So at 27 I sat down and turned to writing, something I'd sporadically done in my too turbulent youth but had lost along the way. That's when I wrote my masterpiece of the struggle for love and life's true promise. This gave me some fame but of course it was the film I made of the book that launched me to superstardom. I'd seen the world from both the top and bottom as few ever had. What poured forth was the last traces of hope in this dying world. But no matter how great thy art, it's always only half the answer.

So this where I've been and this is what I've done, from the lowest of valleys to the highest of mountaintops, it's been a wild ride and I'm ready to leave the world to itself. Mr Bond is no longer available to save you. I'm all alone now, everyone else has left.

Mankind's Survival Is Not Economically Viable

This is the dirty secret the world wants to hide (at least until it's too late, anyway). We see the well-fed and insulated talking heads drone on and on basically always saying the same thing at the end of the day: "Things have to stay the way they are." You can say the world needs to be changed, issues need to be addressed, or any other sort of disclaimers you choose - just so long as you always end with this: "Things have to stay the way they are."

Well, I say this: "Go poop on yourself."

Nothing is business, it's all personal. You see, the welfare of me and mine is VERY personal. Oh, I know we've invented all sorts of "reasons" for our dog-eat-dog existence but none of them are real. We basically just want an excuse to act in an evil manner and call it "being responsible". I hear it every day, goofball motherfuckers talking shit always afraid people are going to wake up and demand a fair world.

Well, don't think there's much chance of that happening. But evil runs even when no one is chasing, and thus feel possessed to "defeat" the enemies in their mind. And as it's in our imagination that things have to stay the way they are, this is where the roots of our destruction reside. This manifests itself in "numbers" (666) and that's how we express our fairy tales. "Sorry, [you can't have a job], [can't stop polluting], [fill in the blank for idiocy]. The numbers won't allow it." Complete, total, and utter garbage.

'This Will Be the Biggest Loss of Clean Water Protection the Country Has Ever Seen': Trump Finalizes Clean Water Rule Replacement

Trump EPA OKs ‘Emergency’ Use of Bee-Killing Pesticide on 13.9 Million Acres

The reality is we should fear not changing more than changing. But so far there's no evidence we're interested in self-preservation. Want to poison us? Fine, go ahead! Want to rape the planet and starve our children? Meh! Want to tell me my football team is going to lose? YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF! Across the universe we are known as "Planet Pervert". Time, though, will purge the liars from among us.

The first order of business in the business of fear is not admitting there's a solution. Hey, if there's no solution we can do whatever we want! There is a solution, of course. It's the good news we reject and the lies we embrace because that makes us feel "safe" as liars. Fat, dumb, and conservative is no way to go through life. The only person that's going to "get you" is you. Get over it!

Everyone can keep on making fools of themselves talking about imaginary economics and imaginary numbers and these imaginary "isms" that exist nowhere but in our head. All the while the things we do in the name of survival are killing us in every sense of the word. So when you come to me with all your economic theories and bullshit philosophy on the "nature of Man" and whatever else unreality you've cooked up, just remember you heard it here first: YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF!

How To Be A Useless Billionaire

Well, I guess I succumbed to the inevitable: I'm a complete fraud. Fuck it. I'm wholly dependent on my money. I have no worth outside of it. I tire of the struggle to be otherwise as the damage done by the loss of the Woman Of Fabric is irreversible. I'm a certified cunt now and my only future is to become an even bigger one.

I can say that here (where no one can or will believe me) but in public that's a different matter. My current occupation such as it is is that of an actor. What role do I play? The one that is expected, of course. I only have one billion while some have multiples of that but I think to the general public once they hear the word "billionaire" we're all lumped in together even though those in this circle do keep score who has the most. Well, that's one game I do refuse to play. But I'm drawn into the rest of the farce.

In my youth I did nothing but spend money and pay only the most scant attention to its presence. And my father actually encouraged that as he saw that as his vengeance against having to dedicate his life to oil wildcatting and the excruciating stress that incurs. His son would never know that and that was fine with me. When I inherited the company I pretty much left it to the managers. I wanted to sell it but I never have out of a sense of guilt. Somehow I think that would make me seem ungrateful.

View from the Virgin bar

But I need some sort of fig leaf that I'm actually doing something with my life. Local boy Mark Cuban has his billions but he still goes great guns looking for deal after deal, soaking up real estate and doing that Shark show (never seen it). I've seen him couple times at the Grapevine Bar and this is not an act for him. Business really is is life. Lord, spare me that! I do not consider making money in and of itself a valid purpose for one's existence.

But I pretend it is as it's such an easy sell to my fellow morons.

I have an answer now for prying eyes as to what I do with my time. "Deals in the works," I vaguely reply. And, hey, sometimes it's true. So billionaire Branson boy brought his Virgin hotel chain to Dallas. But he does this in conjunction with local investors, one of whom is Bill Hutchinson (another billionaire, who heads the Dunhill group). Bill is not your ordinary billionaire so I can actually stand his company as opposed to the uptight corporate types I usually run into. I mean, really, you guys just want to talk about taxes and regulations? Christ, at least try finding a more interesting vice.

The hotel itself is stunning and I'm proud to be associated with it but the payoff for me is not monetary but the fact I can point to something I can sell as a worthwhile endeavor. I can probably ride this for a couple of years - but then I'll need another deal. I admit it is semi-interesting these kind of deals but the guys around me are far more enthusiastic than I am. How do I tell them I'm just killing time and providing cover for my useless life?

Love the Valley House Gallery. Ask to walk the garden!

I have found another time killer and that's exploring art. Been to some great galleries around town and it's quite an adventure. Buddy Bill may be an investor but also has an artsy side to him. That's where the real link is between us, not the personal wealth. Turns out Bill knows the guy down at Griffin Trading where I'd bought stuff in the past. Bill tells me the Griffin guy is an art expert so I've been picking that guy's brain on the art world so I can get a feel for things. I do not, however, want to be known as a "collector". That would imply I actually know what I'm doing.

It's been a fun ride but once you've made the tour through the local galleries, then what? Do I expand to the entire country (or world) in search of new pieces? Do I drop 60 million on a Van Gogh then worry about all the security I'd need to keep it in one of my houses? I don't know how far I can take this. I do admit it's very nice to have had a little direction in my life and I've been lucky with the Virgin project being so cool and also the exploration of local galleries. But I fear I'm reaching another dead end.

At the end of the day I still live in cruel and dreaded fear of this, the most vexing question of all, which hounds me night and day, lashing me onward like a 19th century slave, and bedeviled with loss for a reply: "What do you do for a living?"

Usually I HATE these things but Bill invites some funky people

So if you see me out and about hobnobbing and smiling with the big shots, please don't be taken in. See, unlike in the movies, in real life the worst thing that can happen for an actor is to be successful. Makes me feel like I'm drowning, unable to be heard. Reality is I'm not interested in the scene in which I'm appearing and am dying to be someplace else far, far away. Problem is, I don't know where that place is.

Luke's Letter To The Inmates

Hey, guys! I got to tell you it's great on the outside! Know what I been doing today? Nothing! A whole lot of nothing. Been sitting in a shopping lot just watching. I'm telling you guys, free air smells different, like you can practically taste the hope. Way the sun shining down you'd think the whole world is nothing but wonderful.

Watching free folks go about their business made me feel like I was in a dream so real I could touch it. I always believed in dreams and guess I always will, no matter how wrongheaded that might be. I was like a kid, thinking anything is possible! Wonder why I ever stopped. I try to keep it in but it just keeps popping on out. Don't even have to try, just happens on its own. Sometimes I don't know who I am.

Nothing was the same after the war. Maybe that's how I got offtrack. I tried to forget but that didn't work. Bet the guards didn't forget me driving off in their truck neither! Wish you guys could have been with me today. I just can't stop believing there's more to life than what we seen so far. Just HAS to be!

Luke

Fool's Gold

I mine for gold

My life has meaning!

But filling my heart

Is hell death screaming.

I mine for gold

Wasting light's day;

Rattling victory's chains

I live the 'freedom' way.

I mine for gold

As dreaming hope slides by;

The five o'clock whistle

Heaves a heavy sigh.

I mine for gold

In supported evil rich;

Watching working slaves

Who partner as the bitch.

I mine for gold

A ceaseless endless task;

A fellow inmate pleads:

"What does Sisyphus ask?"

I mine for gold

Deep in dark foul places;

In faint reflection seen

Eyeless forlorn faces.

I mine for gold

Its idolatry is cunning;

From a fortune in feelings

The poor soul is running.

I mine for gold

Forsaking my life's promise;

In yet bitterest complaint

Inescapable the harness.

I mine for gold

To reach lost paradise;

But night's clutching hands

Grip in shivering ice.

I mine for gold

As my deemed utility;

A waterless desert

Thirsting in futility.

I mine for gold

Never the goal is reached;

My fantasy of life

In gasping fatal breach.

I mined for gold

But to what end?

Defeated by

The sunset wind.

To What End?

Ten years ago

the sky had died

Since then I wander lands

A lone samurai

I've seen no one

Been seen by no one

I've not found myself

I was cursed by a Zen Monk's words:

All that will happen already has;

All that has happened is happening now;

What happens now never happens.

I can find no escape

From her shadow world

I built a statue
Of the one I trust,
In daily agony
I watch it rust

I mine for gold

But to what end?

Defeated by

The sunset wind

Who bears the weight

Of a broken sky?

Not I, samurai -

Not I, samurai

Advice Of Counsel

Good thing you came to me because you've made a complete muck of your petition to the Court - a complete muck! And I as a woman am uniquely positioned to help you in ways you as a man could never understand as the Court itself is also a woman and must be dealt with using certain sensitivities without which you would not be heard nor understood nor even received. Yes, you have proven yourself wise to place yourself in my custody and relieve yourself of this burden you've been carrying for far too long. How distressful this must have been for you! No one can make it alone in life nor should be expected to.
And if you wish not to be alone, I have a plan for that.
Running away is never objective, also you're then subject to all sorts of unfounded allegations and endless rumor mills and irrefutable assumptions no matter how inaccurate, and you'll find yourself answering for crimes you never committed - nor intended to commit - but your accusers know full well you will not face them so they feel free to fantasize the most outlandish of transgressions and thereby gain a hold over you which they believe to be to their benefit but that too is false because we are all in this together and for one to do well we must all do well and that law can never be violated under any circumstances.
For if you wish no violation, I have a plan for that.
I read here of your strong and sometimes overwhelming desire to hang yourself which is understandable having previously betrayed the Court in a truly irrational and maniacal manner. Yes, it is horrible to be a bad man - it's nothing at all like in the movies, singing and dancing your way down the stairs all the while forlorn for the love and understanding we are born to seek. I, of course, understand fear, as it has happened to me, only thankfully, I did not react in the foolishly zealous fashion you did that has put you in your currently dire quandary. No, deciding to hang yourself is never the answer. Only the Court can demand that.
So if you wish for a sentence to live, I have a plan for that.
So what is it you're hiding? Is there any valid reason for it - or can there ever be a reason not be free? You state you do not wish for the Court to see you as you are but in concealing this do you not also hide the brilliance of the Light inherent in every soul? You claim yours is a truth not to be tolerated but what besides the truth can save you? You lied to the Court to gain the Court's favor feeling it could not be gotten otherwise, and even though this is a so-called legal proceeding we know that all things in life come down to personal relationships. I can't imagine the point of vainly struggling against the inevitable and inexorable fate of revelation from which no soul is excluded.
But if you wish to be free, I have a plan for that.
Yes, I must take your gold but it's only so that I may survive because my survival is needed in order to help you. Like a lifeguard who brings in a drowning man among hardened dock piers, I must keep you between me and the piers so that I may not be smashed into them by ferocious waves because as you know if something happens to me, your rescuer, then we both die. This is just a circumstance of the world we live in and your understanding of this is vital. I do know there are many who make this same claim under the guise of helping you while swindling you and that is certainly the most horrific of betrayals!
Rest assured, if you wish no such swindling, I have a payment plan for that.
Some realities, of course, cannot be helped. If you jump off a thousand foot building with only concrete below then your death is certain regardless of even the most favorable of legal rulings. While falling, it's easy to fall into a state of despair and have your stubborn pride tell you all will be fine and therefore not look to see if you have a parachute attached, or worse you could listen to false supporters who praise your decision as perfect which convinces you of no need to use your parachute, or even worse you give into guilt at having betrayed the Court and deceive yourself into believing that can be mended by betraying yourself and that too will cause you to fail to pull the ripcord.

So, obviously, there can be no plan for that.

Do You Know An Expert?

Only for us winners!

See, there's like this shooter video game and I go into like God-mode and then like no one and nothing can kill me! Totally awesome. You got monsters and snipers and giant spiders and everything after you but they always lose. They so dumb it funny! I'm like wiping them out all over the place.

I see these other guys playing and getting shot and killed like all the time. Hilarious! I told them I'm expert-god-superman and never get killed. They not believe me. Sooo jealous! I got skillz they only dreaming about not even knowing of God-mode ultra secret that only us geniuses can know. I'm part of elite special forces group kicking ass in the universe. We know best!

What really funny is these libtards dying for no reason! Can you believe it?? Them knowing about God-mode but choosing on their own not to use it. What kind of crazy nuts is that? There's dumb and then there's just plain ol' retards. Hard to imagine what some people thinking sometimes. They just gotta think they better then everyone else! But they only kidding themselves, haha!!

I was talking with my cool supersmart friends other night and we was saying how like the Nazis actually was really winning the war and only why they lost is they stopped fighting. Just keep on doing it! I never quit when I in God-mode - like not ever! That what make me the best. It just like these retards crying over environment and fires and crap like that. Losers! Just go on and have a good time! If you be a winner then nothing to worry about!

When you so good they have to change law to keep you out!!

I'm just shaking my head wondering why I even got to explain this stuff. So obvious!! Do you people just want to lose?? Is that it? Must be! I win every time. Experts like us are laughing at you morons behind your backs. You just got no sense of sense. It's like you got no idea what real is. Sorry, can't help you! Just going to have to find out for yourselves! Don't be crying to me when things not work out like you dummies think!!

That why I like the President so much. We the same! He expert on everything! It's like, so amazing! Can you hear him talking? He knows everything about everything! Stupid libtards always so angry cause they always wrong! Just like when they get mad when they get killed in videos. It their own fault!! It your own fault when you not agree with greatest President of all your time! He just gonna make everything better and better and better.

It's good to be a winner. I totally like debates because I'm always right! Most people throw up hands and get mad and run away cause they can't take it! Hilarious! When you walk around knowing nothing thinking you knowing something - that why you getting mad! Actually, that what screwing up the whole world! Thank God-mode there still some of us knowing what is what. Rest of you losers, deserve what you get - no matter how bad it is. You're own fault!

Click to play

You're On Trial Too, Nimrod

There is no more maligned group on the planet than those who believe this. The overwhelming majority either believe the truth has no value or is their enemy. That's how the liars have ascended to power. That's the proof we live in a godless world. They think that by betraying the truth, i.e. God, they can save themselves - religion by any other name.

So when the Liar-In-Chief, aka the Most Evil Man In America, goes on trial, our allegiance to the truth will also be put on trial. Many of us can't wait to actually cheer a liar who gets away with kidnapping, rape, and murder. I don't want any of those happening to me. Seems some people want that to happen to them - or at least they vote for it anyway. And somehow they think that makes them clever. You "win" - huh, losers?

But if we think the truth has value, if we face the fact truth is the only way forward, if we really believe truth is God, then we must fight with all our hearts to defend the truth. So we are going to find out if we are who we claim we are. This isn't one person's trial, but a nation's. And if we squander this opportunity, there will be hell to pay. Laugh now, cry later. Betray yourself at your own risk.

Dear Diary, Dear World

It's only gotten worse

"The love you take
"is equal to
"the cash you make."

The nightmares are closing in like... I'm trapped, unable to go neither forward nor backward. I go through the motions of pretending I have a future to keep out the monstrous meddler-killers. I was choking in an Amazon warehouse, surrounded only by talking droids that give the illusion of companionship. The one time I saw a human is when someone came up to criticize my work. How can I break the news to them? I just can't make myself care.

Then I was back in the rundown trailer park in Florida. More monsters of poverty ruling over me, threatening my animals' welfare, driving me to murderous outrage. No one can leave well enough alone. I surely didn't with Emily.

I have a secret I can tell no one. For I can tell them and they still won't know: I am unable to make money. See? I knew you would deny it. Our belief system is based on a lie. That's why we want liars to win. We think it makes us safe. My, what a hurtling ball of fire we are, burning up in the atmosphere, getting ever hotter from the friction.

Fine time to forget the key.

As for me, I am unable to make love (not a euphemism). Had I put love out into the world perhaps the world would have supported me back. But I hate this world and want it to die. But I have no interest in saving only myself. Nobody wins unless we all win. That's the lesson we're going to learn -  one way or the other.

Losing with Emily was fatal. With her friendship, I could have made the step to love. But I assumed her friendship an impossibility - then made it so. I feel Kafka must have done something similar in his failures to communicate.

As for you, dear world, if you knew the future you are making you'd reverse your behavior in a heartbeat without hesitation or doubt. You've assumed what the truth is without facing it - and that's 100% fatal 100% of the time. Closing your eyes and hoping is certain suicide. Thanks for dragging everyone else down with you. Your mandates will be doubly used against you and there will be nothing you can do to prevent it.

Astral Time Injection

Only fools need ask permission

To enter life's fourth dimension;

To find yourself lost embedded

Where time itself is beheaded.

Events to happen ancient past

No time lost standing fast;

Glowing, growing the beaming white light

Where never a day and never a night.

Requested love never betrayed

Work without hope fails to be paid;

I see no pols nor spies nor priests

Nor indication of most or least.

Harmony's hills in wondrous climb

Rivers' dreams in deep sublime;

Victory in every surrender

Giving in to what Heaven renders.

Flying free from burdened lies

None warring with hidden lives;

Never a peace for them to cheer

Since not knowing first to fear.

Saving me from my world bitter -

Words spoken false as human litter;

Trapped in ghostly misdirection

Sliding by astral time injection.