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"When the going get's weird, the weird turn professional." HST

Updated: 2016-05-12T08:26:01.115-07:00


Mc Same



This Obama You Speak Of, Can He Run With The Bulls(hit)?


(image) Trickie Dickie Redux ... Ho, ho, ho, Sparky, these fuckers are so dumb they play naked poker with prostitutes at the Watergate Hotel ... Oh, the humanity! ... Start your engines, Democrats, and don't say anything dumb ... Karl better be studying his E. Howard Hunt tapes before the Feds put him on the Magical Mystery tour and Fitzgerald orders the Grand Jury to paint his fence ... Presidential approval numbers have been setting the Way Back Machine to 1974, right about that time when Colson, facing arrest, had a life-changing brush with Jesus as a close friend tossed him a copy of C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity ... Take a long look inside, Dubya himself will remove the "H" and "C" keys from every computer in the Big House.

"Steps we're taking will help address the problem of availability, but it's not going to solve it. Americans should be prudent in their use of energy during the course of the next few weeks. Don't buy gas if you don't need it."
- Dubya proposes that Americans don't buy gas at $3-$4/gallon just because he says so, Washington, D.C., September 1, 2005

*** sound of crickets chirping ***
- Americans waiting for a solution, USA, July 19, 2007

"[Dubya] is a humorless stump of a being and has been a career incompetent at anything he has ever touched and will go down in history as having committed more crimes and treasonous behavior in and around the White House than Richard Nixon would have been convicted had he not resigned first ... Trickie Dick was a genetically engineered miscarriage of a preznut and so is Dubya. They both have come to personify what H.L. Mencken once described as 'the art of running the circus from the monkey cage.'"
- Team Gonzography, Mea Culpas at the Sunset of the American Century, December 30, 2004

[speaking of an improvised scene] "Just before the take, he comes back to where we were all waiting and he says, 'Okay guys, this is what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna go bop bop bop ... whooooap, and then we'll all start dancing.' And I was like, 'okay,' and then he was gone, and then it was rolling, and then it was action, and then we were like, in the scene, and he did this thing, and we all, like, did it with him, and it was just... it was...amazing!"
- Lawrence Fishburne, Actor

"One night, he and George Plimpton and I went to Madison Square Garden to see the fights. And, finally, we left the Garden and there were the three of us, him, Plimpton and I on 8th Avenue and 31st Street and all of the sudden we were surrounded by a tight, unbroken ring of young black men, and the three of us looked at each other and thought, 'well...what's this?' And they just stood there staring at us ... and then the leader of them stepped forward, put his belly against his, and said, 'Man, you are the coolest white man in America.' And, I said to him, 'That is the best compliment you will get as long as you live.'"
- James Lipton, Actor/Host of "The Actors Studio"

"Some people got poetry in their blood and some don't. His is so difficult to track. It's hard to figure out whether it's angelic or satanic. But it is certainly poetic."
- Sean Penn, Actor

"Hey fellas, I put my pants on one leg at a time like everybody. But once my pants are on, I make gold records."
- Upon my release from prison.

"I remember that. I was talking to my attorney and I said how great it would be if he had a tail because I have animals and a tail is so expressive. On a cat you can tell everything. You can tell if they're annoyed. You can tell whether they're scared."
- Sizing up the DA, Superior Court Los Angeles County

Better Dumb Than Original


"Sucker" CarlsonMSNBC TV30 Rockefeller PlazaNew York, NYDearest Tucker:This is to inform you that I have retraced steps on the offer to take the producer vacancy for your show and wish to have it voided immediately. After watching your network continue on its tedious downward spiral into abject insanity and religious fanaticism over these past few months I've decided that I could not, in good conscience, serve your network or show in any capacity. Nor would I feel a sense of personal security while representing any form of disinformation or thought terrorism inside our own borders.I refer specifically to your bizarre distrortions in particular, having compared Democratic efforts to keep track of racial data to those practiced by Heinrich Himmler, Nazi Germany's Gestapo head and SS chief, and insisting that grouchy feminists with mustaches controlled the [Democratic] party and that nobody prevented anyone from voting in Florida during the 2000 Presidential campaign. I am neither a grouchy feminist nor an advocate of organized demonstrations, but my sense or personal karma would be entirely rattled by the nightly spectacle of watching a tiny group of right wing fanatics howling at the calumniation machine whose selective amnesia over the facts and public policy which has already caused thousands of Americans to be killed for no good reason. On the day after John Kerry's acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention you also stated that the Senator's plan was to have other "dark skinned foreigners from the Middle East [to] fight our war for us," which has left MSNBC in a position very much resembling the Gestapo's during the Spanish Civil War, serving up the free thinkers and contrarians to the right wing slaughterhouse known as pundit TV.As a lifelong progressive and fiscal conservative I cannot be dismissed as one of those tinfoil hat conspiracy theorists or an incompetent blue state minority-interest liberal freakshow peacenik. Nor am I totally ignorant of foreign affairs and military policy - nor have I been giving the Democratic party a free pass on their mistakes either, because most of them signed on for the Baghdad revival tour as well. In 1984 and 1985 I spent more time defending our country abroad in many, many late night arguments with elitist Europeans than I did earning a paycheck overseas. But since 2000, I would hate to be over there now, left with a cabal of outraged Euros to explain our delusions about God, Country and Iraqi colonization.It is indeed a fact that I actively supported Clinton in 1992 and John Kerry in 2004 - but in the case of Dubya's re-election I have been sadly disappointed by my fellow Americans. The categorical failures of the U.S. in the Middle East are not nearly so disturbing as the implications of our actions. Which country of dark-skinned heathens do we bomb next? Will Dubya invade Bangalore once there are no more call center jobs in Little Rock? Does the right wing want to put the entire Muslim world on another set of reservations? Can you seriously defend any Administration who gets its foreign policy advice from Dick Cheney and Condi Rice? Is it a fact, as I have read and heard, that even the staunchest conservatives are worried that the failure to ratify an Iraqi Constitution underscores Rumsfeld's intention to provoke Iran and Syria into another costly war - so that Dubya can crown himself Emperor with a Supreme Court packed with a fresh pair of cronies who regard habius corpus as nothing more than a minor inconvenience?If this is where we are going as a country, count me out. If these corporate lackeys in the White House really do intend to go into another country to defend us from "smoking guns" and "mushroom clouds" I have no intention of being an American any longer, regardless of the evidence that they might fabricate. Beyond that, I can only wish you a terribly short lifespan on MSNBC TV.In conclusion, it would be perfectly American to offer a solution - so I can't be labeled a frustrated left[...]

Democracy Dies in America, But Few Seem to Really Care


"We want this city to re-emerge. As I said, I can't imagine America without a vibrant New Orleans. It's just a matter of timing. We're cautious about encouraging people to return at this moment of history."- Has Dick Cheney already landed there and declared New Orleans a parking lot for Halliburton? Washington, D.C., September 19, 2005"Listen, I, I, I wanna to thank, uhh, leaders of the -- in the faith, and uhh -- faith-based and community-based community for being here, we've got people who represent thousands of volunteers who are in the midst of helping save lives.- Not sure if we really need a definition for "community-based community", White House, September 6, 2005"Here's what I believe. I believe that the great city of New Orleans will rise again and be a greater city of New Orleans. I believe the town where I used to come -- from Houston, Texas, to enjoy myself, occasionally too much -- will be that very same town, that it will be a better place to come to."- Dubya pledges to make New Orleans a frat boy party town once again, New Orleans, Louisiana, September 2, 2005"Well, I could be wrong, but I believe - uh - diversity is an old wooden ship that was used during the Civil War era."- Ron Burgundy, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron BurgundyHector Straussman, my Paraguayan press agent, called me collect from Washington last night and told me that I was seriously wrong and mistaken about Our Child Preznut. "I know you won't believe this shit," he said, "but Dubya is a very different person than the way they make him out to be on television - and everything you've been saying about him is all wrong. I just figured that you oughta know ... "I reminded Hector that his grandparents were escaped Nazi's and told him I would call back after the Cowboys-Redskins tilt, which was suddenly getting interesting. I was getting three points, and Dallas had just missed a field goal ... Dubya could have been Jimmy the Greek at that moment: He was dead to me. The whole fallout from the FEMA chinese fire drill was like the sound of a dripping faucet in the darkness, even though ESPN was getting all Jerry Lewis-like with its telethon.But Hector ignored me, persistent with his line of thought ... He sounded very creepy and eerily drained, like he had spent the entire weekend hardwired with little electrodes attached to his brain beaming only FOX News. He babbled something about Dubya not being what anyone thought he was - that deep within him, beyond the cameras, lurked the shadow of genuine poet-warrior and part-time philosopher laureate."He is more intelligent than Ben Franklin," Hector said. "When it's all said and done, he will be bigger than FDR and will stand in history larger than Abraham Lincoln on his best day."I almost choked on my tongue. "You lying bastard," I shot back. "I knew that your Nazi genes would infect you someday. Are you on the payroll now? Christ, you sound like Armstrong Williams.""You, of all people, need to know the truth," he said. "I'm just trying to clue you in before the march of history spells doom on your work. And it's really good work ... by the way." ... His cellphone started ringing and I could hear passing cars in the distance, then Hector returned back to the payphone receiver speaking all kinds of twisted mumbo jumbo."Buddy, the president - Dubya - has read your work," he was stammering, almost incoherently. "They had me up at the Big House last night, all alone with the man. We drank Wild Turkey in front of the fireplace and ate some of the tastiest chicken fingers I ever had and listened to the his Coldplay collection and Dubya got a little emotional about things in New Orleans, then he went on and told me he was the last great social engineer left in the American political landscape, in the time honored tradition of B.F. Skinner and LBJ's Great Society." "Never!" I shouted. "And don't ever try drinking with me again. The concept of drinking with somebody who once drank with Dubya is too much to handle. [...]

The End of An Era: Orgy of the Dumb


Dubya the Liberal and Semi-Merciful ... The Chimperor has gone so far to the Right that he can now be called a French Socialist ... Chimpy takes center stage in the Gulf while Cheney is turning the screws with a Halliburton bullhorn ... They came to Washington to decrease the size of government, and little did the wingnuts and fundies know at the time - the Rethugs meant decrease our emergency services and say goodbye to the safety net ... And by the way, where is Osama Bin Laden and should we now call him Keyser Soze?"Katrina exposed serious problems in our response capability at all levels of government. And to the extent that the federal government didn't fully do its job right, I take responsibility. I want to know what went right and what went wrong. I want to know how to better cooperate with state and local government."- If you're searching for any degree of remorse from Dubya, this is about it, White House, September 13, 2005REPORTER: Did they misinform you when you said that no one anticipated the breach of the levees? DUBYA: No, what I was referring to is this. When that storm came by, a lot of people said we dodged a bullet. When that storm came through at first, people said, whew. There was a sense of relaxation, and that's what I was referring to. And I, myself, thought we had dodged a bullet. You know why? Because I was listening to people, probably over the airways, say, the bullet has been dodged. And that was what I was referring to. Of course, there were plans in case the levee had been breached. There was a sense of relaxation in the moment, a critical moment. And thank you for giving me a chance to clarify that.- Like Team Gonzography, you're probably wondering if he would clarify who constituted the "lot of people", or what became of the plans for the levee breach, or perhaps just explain the "sense of relaxation"? New Orleans, Louisiana, September 12, 2005ROGER "VERBAL" KINT: "And like that he was gone. Underground. Nobody has ever seen him since. He becomes a myth, a spook story that criminals tell their kids at night. 'Rat on your pop, and Keyser Soze will get you.' And no-one ever really believes." DAVE KUJAN: "Do you believe in him, Verbal?"ROGER "VERBAL" KINT: "Keaton always said, 'I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him.' Well I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze."- "The Usual Suspects" 1995A man can convince anyone he's somebody else, but never himself. For a while I was content to return to my quiet life away from all the commentary and outrage, living in a distant place where any sudden sound at night means that something is about to happen. When you hear it you jump up, alarmed - considering all the ruthless alternatives for a moment, what the hell just happened out there.More times than I care to recall, it is nothing. But there are times ... it's so very hard to keep quiet when the world is sinking into level upon level of shit and swamp water, while most of us sit back with Cable TV beaming the days, hours and minutes until it slips into a comfortable routine. Bodies, national guardsmen, helicopters ... this is no time to relax; and while the message machine tries to drown out the failures of our disaster relief efforts with the most salacious methods of assessing blame - not seen since Donald Segretti used a faked letter on Democratic presidential candidate Edmund Muskie's letterhead, which falsely alleged that U.S. Senator Henry "Scoop" Jackson, a fellow Democrat, had an illegitimate child with a 17-year-old and issued a bogus letter containing offensive comments about African Americans.Segretti called these frathouse pranks ratfucking. Just another terminal whackjob who bypassed the Peace Movement and Love Generation altogether, he was nothing more than a tormented mutation who never developed a human conscience or an atom of regret. Segretti reportedly checked into the Benson Hotel in Portland, Oregon in September 1971 carrying $500,[...]

High Gear Scrambling and Death to The Weird


The Crescent City Sinks like Atlantis ... Wingnuts Run Amok Declaring that God Sent Katrina because of Interior Decorators in the Big Easy ... Oops, Did Someone Really Brief the White House? ... FEMA is More Chinese Fire Drill Than a Helping Hand and Homeland Security is a Mirage ... Fat Timmy Tightens the Vice Grips ... A Retarded Nero Speaks and a Shroud of Insanity has been Lifted, My Friends"The good news is - and it's hard for some to see it now - that out of this chaos is going to come a fantastic Gulf Coast, like it was before. Out of the rubbles of Trent Lott's house - he's lost his entire house - there's going to be a fantastic house. And I'm looking forward to sitting on the porch."- Dubya pep talks the residents of the hurricane-ravaged Gulf Coast with a heavy dose of denial tossed in for good measure, Mobile, Alabama, September 2, 2005"Steps we're taking will help address the problem of availability, but it's not going to solve it. Americans should be prudent in their use of energy during the course of the next few weeks. Don't buy gas if you don't need it."- Dubya proposes that Americans don't buy gas at $3-$4/gallon just because he says so, Washington, D.C., September 1, 2005"Today's enemies do not mass armies on borders, or navies on high seas. They blend in with the civilian population. They emerge to strike, and then they retreat back into the shadows. And that's why there are thousands of our fellow citizens running down every single piece of intelligence we can find, doing everything we can to disrupt folks that might be here in America trying to hurt you."- Kinda like the level of disregard shown the American people by FEMA, Nampa, Idaho, August 24, 2005There is desperation and exasperation in the air tonight. Not even Wolf Blitzer could handle it. Levees belched toxic waste in the streets of New Orleans and the entire Gulf Coast slipped another mile toward Venezuela. Dubya was struck about the face and neck with the dope stick yet again, the U.S. Government failed to act when it knew that its own people would be massacred by a raging storm, and young children and elderly people died in the heat and humidity without so much as a drink of water.If Dubya had a personal delivery half as articulate as Crazy Horse, he would have been able to get past this one - instead of being labelled a closet racist while he races around the country looking all perplexed and destined for another $1000.00 chicken dinner fundraiser. But words always seem to confuse Our Child Preznut - and the very homespun diatribes that had once served him well inside red state revival tents and redneck bake-offs with Mable and Bess and Clara now make him seem like he's rolling in a trench filled with shit. Little Big Horn was settled about 130 years ago, but the ferocious warrior - also known as Tashunca-uitco - earned his reputation among the Lakota not only by his skill and daring in battle but also by his fiery determination to preserve his people's traditional way of life. The horrid fallout from this disaster in the Gulf has been building for years before the first gusts ripped into the shoreline, right about that time when Dubya and his party pimps first hijacked the vote count in Florida - and the only difference today, with Cable TV news broadcasting the catastrophe 24-hours a day, is that we finally seem to be on the verge of looking at the scoreboard for once while wondering how much of our traditions have been eroded away like the old Bayou itself.Crazy Horse made no distinctions when it cames to his people - they could have been Democrats or Republicans for all he knew, not that it mattered much in 1876, or in any other year, when the skies became terminal and the land succumbed to Mother Nature - but it's also very true that Crazy Horse never understood the concept of American Government, Inc. beyond its threat to the people it was built to protect, nor would he have appreciated the[...]

This Is Your (Political) Life Dubya


Freak City Revelations ... Anatomy of a Party Fixer and Rogue Pimp ... What Next for the Good Ole Boys from the Crawford Fun Factory? ... A Rose Garden of Agony Spills Battery Acid on the True Believers ... The Democrats Tighten the Screws ... Treachery Looms in the White House Press Plane ... The Worm Has Turned, My FriendDUBYA: I appreciate the Secretary of Energy joining me today. He's a good man, he knows a lot about the subject, you'll be pleased to hear. I was teasing him -- he taught at MIT, and -- do you have a PhD? SECRETARY OF ENERGY BODMAN: Yes. DUBYA: Yes, a PhD. Now I want you to pay careful attention to this -- he's the PhD, and I'm the C student, but notice who is the advisor and who is the President.- Well, many of us have been saying things along this line for a long time now ... Lusby, Maryland, June 22, 2005"Even though I'm a tranquil guy now at this stage of my life, I have nothing but contempt and anger for those who betray the trust by exposing the name of our sources. They are, in my view, the most insidious of traitors." - George Herbert Walker Bush, 1999"I want to thank the President and the CEO of Constellation Energy, Mayo Shattuck. That's a pretty cool first name, isn't it, Mayo. Pass the Mayo. His wife, Molly, appreciated that." - In case you were wondering if Dubya had some towel-snapping frat boy swimming in his moments of petty rapture, let's consider the evidence. Lusby, Maryland, June 22, 2005Holy Mother of Stammering God, I just took a break from this political psychobabble long enough to cleanse my soul of the constant and terminal angst that ushers the partisan soiree with all the misplaced resplendence of a Gay Pride Festival in Galveston, and then I turned to the cable television talking heads shows ... and there was the face and that voice of Tweety Matthews beating the drums with Howard Dean on Hardball, jolting a Washington glitterati with an alarmingly straight admission of failure on one count of deceiving the American electorate - an elaborate attempt to purposely confound September 11 with Saddam Hussein and the preznut's own guilt and profound involvement with most every aspect of the fraudulence - including stockpiles of WMD, oil that would subsidize the shameful nation-building exercise and hordes of repressed Iraqis waiting for our troops with bouquets of flowers because they so wanted to hand over power to another religious faction, for which Dubya should stand up and take whatever harsh punishment the special prosecutor feels he rightly deserves and then purge himself from our memories once and for all by "explaining everything he knows" and why, on his watch, we are less safe with a terrorist gladiator school in Iraq and the emergence of two nuclear powers in Iran and North Korea.Two more months of the shake and bake operation in Iraq and this lovely experiment in Middle East Democracy in Action will make Sarajevo seem more July 4th block party than a violent bloodletting of ethnic and biblical proportions. First Dubya gets up in the morning to see that a majority of Americans are ready to toss in the towel, then he jumps up on national TV to say he "thinks about Iraq every day because he understands we have troops in harm's way," as if this master of the obvious could put two and two together in the first place. Which means, clearly, that he better now watch his backside before Rumsfeld or Rove reach for the Gideon Bible like Chuck Colson once did and start taking their press conferences while standing in line at a Jerry Fallwell absolution soup kitchen in Lynchburg, Virginia.What will Dubya do in the light of these recent developments? Karl Rove, one of the most psychotic and treacherous thugs in the vast wasteland of American politics, has been Dubya's main and insulated lightning rod since the beginning of his fatally co-dependent inner sanctum of the "get in the boat and shut your mouth" deception m[...]

Armageddon Days Are Here (Again)



They’re 5 miles high as the crow flies
Leavin’ vapour trails against a blood red sky
Movin’ in from the east toward the west
With balaclava helmets over their heads, yes!

But if you think that Jesus Christ is coming
Honey you’ve got another thing coming
If he ever finds out who’s hijacked his name
He’ll cut out his heart and turn in his grave

Islam is rising
The christians mobilising
The world is on it’s elbows and knees
It’s forgotten the message and worships the creeds

It’s war, she cried, it’s war, she cried, this is war
Drop your possessions, all you simple folk
You will fight them on the beaches in your underclothes
You will thank the good lord for raising the union jack
You’ll watch the ships out of harbour
And the bodies come floating back

If the real jesus christ were to stand up today
He’d be gunned down by the CIA
Oh, the lights that now burn brightest behind stained glass
Will cast the darkest shadows upon the human heart
But God didn’t build himself that throne
God doesn’t live in Israel or Rome
God belong to the Yankee Dollar
God doesn’t plant the bombs for Hezbollah
God doesn’t even go to church
And God won’t send us down to Allah to burn
No, God will remind us what we already know
That the human race is about to reap what it’s sown

The world is on it’s elbows and knees
It’s forgotten the message and worships the creeds
Armageddon days are here again

(matt johnson - the the)

Bang The Gongs Slowly


Unknown Comic: What do you call a Mexican with a vasectomy?Chuck Barris: What?Unknown Comic: A dry Martinez!* cue audience laugh track *Unknown Comic: Do you like sex?Chuck Barris: Yes.Unknown Comic: Do you like sports?Chuck Barris: Yes.Unknown Comic: Then take a fucking hike.Chuck Barris: You can't say that on television.* cue audience laugh track and hard cut to commerical break *"My way of joking is to tell the truth. That's the funniest joke in the world."- Muhammad AliBack in the 1970s, "The Gong Show" was one of those boffo TV extravaganzas that come once in a generation - the type of cranked up audience dedication that sparked as much entertainment as it did outrage, even if the latter represented that famous media truism which states, rather simply, "Bad Publicity is Better Than No Publicity." As was the case with "Reverend Gene Scott" or "Jerry Springer" or "The Morton Downey Jr. Show," either you loved "The Gong Show" or you hated it, but everybody tuned in to watch this stripped down version of "American Idol" and shuffled about like Gene Gene The Dancing Machine in the bank line. Millions of Americans went out and bought gongs for their homes - so that they could gong their spouses or friends with Smiling Bob-ish glee - and there were gong shows in churches and temples and community centers to raise donations, then even cruise ship social directors and singles getaway destinations jumped into the act. "Gong" became the catch phrase of that decadent period between free sex and recreational drug use - before the Reaganites declared that AIDS came from monkeys and Ed Meese got a hard-on for the end of pornography and Nancy canvassed inner cities with the ultimate "Don't Worry, Be Happy" beat manifesto by proclaiming "Just Say No" to our country's brownish people ... but "gong" really meant "Make That Idiot Stop" or "Get That Crazy Bastard Off The Stage!" Singer Jaye P. Morgan, comedian Arte Johnson (of "Rowan and Martin's Laugh In") and Jamie Farr (of "M*A*S*H*"), plus one or more guests, was each assigned the torture of enduring and judging the ameteur acts that performed on the show and could end the act by striking his/her mallet against an oversized gong, because that person or group was deemed as too hideous to continue.And now, let us introduce, for your viewing pleasure: A bearded, demented-looking dentist taunts his hapless patient as he drills her teeth, flipping the drill's switch to the tune of "Stars and Stripes Forever." A petite homecoming queen, obviously nervous, is duped into singing the National Anthem after she and fellow members of the choir have been introduced as collectively performing "The Star Spangled Banner." A grossly overweight man tap-dances to music from "Swan Lake"; later his equally obese wife squeezes into a tiny tutu and, after fitting her head in a teacup, spins around while playing "Old Folks at Home" on the mandolin. An Elvis impersonator sings "Hound Dog," but his voice is a monotone.Now, 20 years later, the journalistic establishment that speaks for Dubya's erstwhile 52% mandate takes to the airwaves and fishwrap with more lame whackjobs and bizarre yoyos than can be found in either the Halls of Congress or within the Peacetime Army or The Gong Show green room ... and we are left clutching our nuts beyond the mylar glow of a pop-culture effervescence and creeping paranoia not seen since the dog days of 1973, when guys like Sirica, Ruckelshaus, Woodward, Bernstein, Jaworski, Cox and Richardson were skulking around the hellish little byproducts of another debacle in hyperspeed which, of course, became "The Watergate Crisis."This is a grim thing to draw comparisons to - or even put into words - given the current atmosphere of American Narcissism, Inc. and our renewed collective amnesia that regretfully pervades the press and our politics these days. Not [...]

Attention K-Mart Shoppers: Pick Up Your Collective Illusions At The Door


Inside the Rethug Funhouse all the Distortions look Normal ... Water Cooler Talk about Plato's Retreat and Dubya's UN Nominee ... The Bizarre Emergence of a Vague and Scaled Down version of Doom ... Not even Ehrlichman would have Stooped this Low ... The Sharks finally have turned on one other ... Ask Not for Whom the Bell Tolls"Look, John Cornyn is a good friend, and we look forward to analyzing and working with legislation that will make -- it would hope -- put a free press's mind at ease that you're not being denied information you shouldn't see."- Close enough for Dubya these days ... Washington, D.C., April 14, 2005"A good conspiracy is unprovable. I mean, if you can prove it, it means they screwed up somewhere along the line."- Jerry Fletcher, from Conspiracy Theory, 1997It has been a fascinating tale, no doubt ... and perhaps the most significant thing about it is that it has made absolutely no sense at all, not even to a delusional person willing to make that giant leap of faith and accept it as God's Humble plan. But you were warned, Sparky, and so were many others. Way down here at the bottom of the neo-conservative barrel, swimming around in the dark and sticky goop like a pack of seagulls in the aftermath of an oil spill, an indifferent American electorate is beginning to sum up the very cost of all the poisonous rhetoric and political malfeasance conducted in the name of the "Old Fashioned American Way" ... but somehow, with Iraq spinning into a reality TV version of Assault on Precinct 13 and the military missing its recruitment targets at the range of 41%, at least a dozen or so right wing legislators (read GOP targeted seats in 2006 and presidential hopefuls for 2008) are stepping back from comment as the Pentagon is considering a new round of job cuts and closure of more than 150 military installations nationwide, for some reason, while talking points pinheads like Norm Coleman make a poorly timed appearance on HBO's "Real Time With Bill Maher" to chatter about the "post 9/11 world" in virtual absentia, saying all the right words but doing nothing about it.Incredible as it may seem, the dollar signs on the Pentagon's downsizing - or "right-sizing," depending on what version of the creative semantics cookbook you read from - are yet another codephrase like "the DEA in an early morning raid seized a huge shipment of cocaine with an estimated street value of 25 million" ... while the less impressed ask ourselves, "Get a load of that street and what are the property values?" Street Value has almost no bearing in the real world nor does the size of the Pentagon budget, of course, and while the head honchos in the basement actuarian cubbyholes say they are cutting $30b US from the military's budget over the next six years, the certainty of the matter is that many of these program cuts will be planted deeper into the bottom line once Congress steps to the plate and the usual bureaucratic meanderings take hold.There is a critical notion beyond this points-on-a-curve diatribe, however, that even the rational mind could settle beyond any reasonable doubt. To paraphrase Jerry Fletcher one more time, "Love gives you wings and it can make you fly, but don't even call it love ... call it 'Geronimo' because, when you're in love, you'll jump from the top of the Empire State building screaming 'Geronimo' and you won't care." And neither does half of the American people, in fact; they are wrapped up in a version of love for an America subjugated to themselves, while stuck in the middle of a disturbing co-dependent relationship between who the country truthfully represents and what its creators clearly designed us to be. And we all tend to love for the very wrong reasons, from time to time, which explains the skyrocketing US divorce rate and the level of venom that has dece[...]

And Texas Toast Is Another Name For Garlic Bread


The Gravity Geek Boots Land in Crawford ... Andy Card Delivers the Post Mortem to Fat Timmy ... Tommy Franks and the Sack of Shit ... An Opulent Former Nazi is Crowned Panzer Kardinal ... More Discussion of Pressing the "Freak Button""If you're a two-working family like a lotta families are here in America, and, uhh -- two people working in your family, and the, the spouse dies early -- before 62, for example -- all of the money that the spouse has put into the system, uhh, is gum -- held there, and then when the other spouse retires, he or she gets to choose the benefits from his or her own work, or the other spouse's benefits, which is ever higher but not both."- Dubya discusses "two-working families", Prime Time Press Conference interrupted by Paris Hilton, White House, April 28, 2005"If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever."- George OrwellWhat will Dubya do now? That seems to be the question that has every strategic thinker and corporate pimp in Washington up late at night - from the dark alleys and recesses of the Beltway to the corner chairs of the National Press Club to the dried up cocktail parties in locales such as Arlington and Georgetown. You can only imagine what the discussion is like in the tense and comfortless bunkers of the organized spin operation known as the American Enterprise Institute, where bought-and-paid-for shills like Bill Schneider and Frank Luntz are burning a great deal of midnight oil wondering if the second-teamers amongst the Rovian Fiasco Court have indeed shot their load entirely or whether Dubya should go back for sloppy seconds on his personal e-ticket ride to pinheaded rapture and messianic nationalism.In the murky world of Rethug politics these days, the idea of a "vision thing" is like rubbing salt into a gaping wound that is now festering beneath the surface of an impatient electorate. Not even Dubya's daddy liked the "vision thing," a codeword from the 1992 campaign that became the dunce cap for a candidate lacking a true political agenda and a clear understanding of what needed to be done after the election. There was so much public discussion of vision with respect to Bush 41 that Clinton did an end-around and beat him with the Herbert Hoover dope stick until he became marked with the Scarlet "L" for Loser - and Dubya apparently never forgave him for it. But our wonderful Child Preznut learned something important from this political lesson too. In his mind, and in the collective estimation of his loyal minions and big contributors, all you have to do is step to the microphone, order up a crisis of the day, and appear somewhat convincing and devoted to Jesus for about 45% of the voting public: The rest of the petty hassle - the liquid six to seven percent of the registered voters who could shift a poll from "go" to "no go" - is left to the talking heads filters and dissection machines on Cable TV and Talk Radio; the very air of American politics is so electrified with manufactured outrage that forty doses of Oprah and Klonopin couldn't tame the shrew.Millions of dollars and thousands of high-cash jobs depend on what Dubya does next; then what the Democratic and Rethug leadership brings to the knife fight; on how the media machine parses the fallout from the Social Security flamethrower battle and whether the margins are so close for the 2006 midterms that calculating Senators such as Frist, McCain and Lott start scurrying for the escape hatch and make a few proposals of their own, all of which will never reach the floor.The wiseguy money is moving heavy on the Democrats right now because the momentum has swung - not all the way to the left, but a lot closer to the center. Not just because Dubya can be seen retreating from the pressure of public opinion in [...]

The Freakiest People on the Planet


They were such nice guys. God-fearing, patriotic and rich. A real principled bunch of regular Texas folk, generally ... Honky Tonk Payola and Problems with the E-Mail Server ... Constant Cash Flow Problems, Useless Press Releases and a Dim Voice in the Distance"The American system is the most ingenious system of control in world history. With a country so rich in natural resources, talent and labour power the system can afford to distribute just enough wealth to just enough people to limit discontent to a troublesome minority. It is a country so powerful, so big, so pleasing to so many of its’ citizens that it can afford to give freedom of dissent to the small number who are not pleased. There is no system of control with more openings, apertures, flexibilities, rewards for the chosen. […] There is none that disperses its’ control more complexly through the voting system, the work situation, the church, the family, the school, the mass media – none more successful in mollifying opposition with reforms, isolating people from one another, creating patriotic loyalty."- Howard Zinn, from A People’s History of the United States, first published 1981The game itself does indeed get heavy at times. You shouldn't go gallivanting around picking fights or putting the hammer down on your enemies unless you're absolutely free of dander, excrement and bad intentions. No skeletons in the closet, Sparky: no loose hotel room receipts or secret vices or shady deals with a paper trail ... because if your sordid past outweighs your political capital or reputation, not even Jesus H. Christ can save your vote or your soul, and the lobbyists and party pimps will cash you out as firmly in their column come vote time. If you took payoffs from Indian Casinos in the name of party dominance and dissecting the electoral map, the K Street boys with the dark suits, designer sunglasses and silver briefcases will come knocking in the wee hours of the morning to confront you with hardcopies of the emails that you thought were completely destroyed, in which you once referred to your key Native American clients as "monkeys" and "idiots" or the tribal leadership as "Chief Running Scam" and "Keeping Two Books."When you get caught playing dirtbag, you're screwed. The cost of your vote just hit rock bottom - zilch - and your supporters back home and your interests are worth about as much as Atari or Digital Equipment stock.Every once in a while a major political player goes up in flames in a way that kindles the concept of spontaneous combustion, just like we're about to witness with The Bugman, and it goes a little like this: On Monday morning, on the first day that the new UN Ambassador nominee goes up on the Hill for filleting and grilling, you - the treacherous and ambitious party insider and House Majority Leader with more than a few skeletons in the backseat of your limo - are working the hallways of the Rayburn Building in good - albeit, a twisted sense of good - faith, basking in all the attention and requests for a moment to speak about a new appropriations measure when you hear a dim voice in the distance calling your name. You battle an urge to ignore it, then glance down the hallway for your office door to see a smiling, crisply attired young operative of about thirty five years, waving at you to join him for a brief but important discussion."Nice to see you, Tommie Boy," he says. "My name's Clayton B. Normal. I've been sent here from the White House and we'd sure like you to come out hard on the flank on this Social Security Bill we're working on. You can call me Clay."You let out this sheepish smile, but remain silent - waiting for Normal to continue with his pitch. There's going to be a price, and you've been down this road bef[...]



Mistress Michelle Meets Mattel ... Suspended Somewhere Between a Newsroom and a Brothel"Any good time had while wearing pajamas. Positive, uplifting experience. Can be a party of one or several. Not to be confused with a pajama party, although it would fit in some circumstances."Example: We stayed up late last night and had a pajamaramalamadingdong of a time blogging about the Nazi impulses surrounding Michelle Mattel's opinions of Arab Americans."Babiecakes - received your postcard last night and I was immediately left astonished by that alluring scent of Christian Dior and the scribbled Cupid's arrow on its back, pointing to "our beachfront getaway." What getaway? Have you moved back to Koreatown? I guess it's not such an extraordinary concept, considering your vast and wayward history in Los Angeles. Did you already find work down there and do you need me to rough up that crappy editor of yours? Anyways, don't send any more of your designer wardrobe to my Hermosa Beach compound. Hang onto those things until the contractors are done expanding the deck and the bedroom. The fellas might rifle through your nighties and things, and I'm not much of a garment policeman. As of right now it seems like you can move your things back into the pleasure hut in about ten days or so. The general contractor, a stocky and hirsute 310-pound Chicano surfer dude named Pedro D. Infringement, has been a bit sluggish in pouring the concrete, and the constant hammering has been a huge distraction from completing my book. It's been going badly for about a month now; I'm yelling more and writing even less. The agent has been checking in daily, telling me that the characters are borish and that I should stay clear of your hypnotic seductiveness until I get the plot better aligned. Personally, the criticism has been a little too much to bear - and it's about the last thing I need. "A brilliantly crafted tale of political intrigue and cultural upheaval," he barked into my voice mail this morning, "but it needs ... " And so the tiring beat continues, like we're distant vessels breaking against a raging sea ...I trust you're having better luck with your blog and media appearances. FOX is a tough line up to crack, it seems, even for a woman of your innate talents. Might I suggest an approach more in line with a hot asian incall escort selling a GFE service for the newsboys in the production silo - which I've heard stands for girl friend experience in the adult entertainment business - so that way you're not obligated to go that far with an undesirable client such as Bill O'Reilly or Sean Hannity or Brit Hume. But caveat emptor, my girl. Once you've travelled down that slippery slope, you would be nothing more than Ann Coulter with a better ratchet set and all that would be left of your destiny would be the occassional semi-nude appearance on HBO's Cathouse or an edition of Girls Gone Wild: The Kinky Blogger Edition or working the casino lobby in Vegas when the Shriners and Bar Association hit town. Then no one would look at your blog and the advertising dollars would dry up, unless you parsed out some space to the online seek-and-screw databases that seem to be the rage on the internet these days - the very services that Jeff "Bulldog" Gannon and Laura "grace919" Ingraham have been found to frequent under assumed names borne from years of cathartic alterego addiction. Even then, I still can't think of a compelling reason why you would subjugate yourself to such a creepy quid pro quo anyways, and these types of things seem to get straightened out rather quickly if you lay down the law on sexual advances. But it's a thought that must occupy your imagination from time to time.A rumor hit my email the other day[...]

The Holy Simp and His Showdown at the Communion Rail


"For the first time in my own life, I find myself unable to go to Mass. During the most heated bouts of rhetoric coming from the Vatican this summer, I felt tears of grief and anger welling up where once I had been able to contain them. Faith beyond resentment began to seem unreachable ... Perhaps a new pope will change things. But the odds are that hostility will get even worse. I revere those who can keep up the struggle within the channels of the Church. I respect those who have left. But I am somewhere in between now. There are moments in a spiritual life when the heart simply breaks. Some time in the last year, mine did. I can only pray that in some distant future, some other gay people not yet born will be able to come back to the church, to sing in the choir, and know that the only true scandal in the world is the scandal of God's love for his creation, all of it, all of us, in a church that may one day, finally, become home to us all."- Pope Andrew the Heretic, Losing a Church, Keeping the Faith, October 2003"Life is a job. You get $14.50 a day, but after you die, you have to pay for your sins. Stealing a hub cap is around 100 dollars. Masturbation is 35 cents ... it doesn't seem like much, but it adds up. If there's money left when you subtract what you owe from what you've earned, you can go to heaven. If not, you have to go back to work. Sort of like reincarnation - many nuns are Mafia guys working it off."- Father Guido Sarducci, gossip columnist and rock critic for the Vatican newspaper L'Osservatore RomanoTrapped in the never-ending pontification of the religious coverage that became borish - say, after the eleventh hour - and then, just as the nation was forced to watch that frightful self-fulfilling replay of Keith Olbermann interviewing Chris Matthews on MSNBC just because he's Catholic, it became abundantly clear who the next Pope should be.Pope Andrew the Heretic of Provincetown. And why not?The main noise in the aftermath of The Pope's passing in the media has been an unlikely and unholy alliance between John Paul II and good old Ronnie Reagan with some maniacal passion they shared in bringing down the Iron Curtain, but nobody in Washington really cares anymore about the Russians - or the Poles, for that matter - despite their sudden and obvious ignorance that World War III is already in the catalyst and countdown stages with the rest of the Islamic world.Not to jump on anyone else's parade here, but the rational mind could not do anything but agree with Billmon's simple assessment of the Pope and his place in the pantheon of christian victories and its laundry list of charlatans and false prophets and grotesque efforts to subjugate the masses. But so what? John Paul II led the Catholic world for a little less than 27 years, which is longer than almost anyone else in the currently active political sphere of influence except Fidel Castro in Cuba, Moammar Khadafy of Libya and the grandsons of King Abd Al Aziz Al Saud of Saudi Arabia - none of whom would be considered harbors of global democratization and general good will.Twenty six years is a very long time in the Big Chair or for this century, no matter how you slice it. Dubya has the look of a crazed baboon who traded the taste for ripe bananas for gushy warm hyena blood a long time ago, and he's been wearing the preznut sportscoat for a little more than four years. Gerald Ford only got three years before they snatched him out by the collar, and South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu only held power for ten years because the U.S. military was stubborn enough to replenish an endless supply of body bags.Let's just agree that political tenure is mighty brief in the passing lane. Brutu[...]

Just Another Terrorist Organization Gone Terminal on Itself


jumping the shark1. when your favorite show starts to flag and go downhill, as when Fonzie jumped the shark on waterskis. We all knew that Happy Days was on its way down then.2. a semi-popular phrase for "selling out" or turning into shit.3. the precise moment when you recognize that something is really over although it's momentum carries it on for a few steps.     source: UrbanDictionary.comThere was a strange vibe all over the globe last week. Terri Schiavo finally went off to her maker, the Pope took a turn for the worse in the aftermath of another Easter Parade, The Wall Street Journal and Newsweek's Master of the Obvious Howard Fineman declared Tom DeLay dead on arrival, a real and significant Democratic leadership still hasn't emerged long enough to grow some cajones, the preznut's commission on weapons of mass destruction found that America's spy agencies were "dead wrong" in most of their judgments about Saddam Hussein's WMD capabilities - and just about everywhere else in this shrinking world, including Afghanistan, either Dubya or members of his immediate family were being hunted down like a pack of rabid animals before they could sink their fangs into another uninfected creature or constituency.Karl Rove and Karen "Man Hands" Hughes, in the mean time, flew back up to the Big House for a series of late night strategy sessions to consider the alternatives along with Dubya, which all seemed to be growing bleaker with each passing morning and evening news cycle. Chimpy from Crawford was still hunkered down in the Oval Office with spent Jim Beam bottles and a few bad intentions and some choice words for his predecessors' paintings, too distressed to venture close to the Briefing Room and cursing the worm that had already started to turn on his presidency from blowing every bit of politcal capital he once had, which he foolishly brandished like a loaded 12-gauge in the salad days of his November re-election, by rolling the dice on a braindead woman in Brother Jeb's home state of the damned, a place filled with steroid-addicted rednecks looking for skull sessions with trailer trash degenerates proud and eager to serve them.Some have called this outrageous episode a microcosm of our time. That a standing president would gamble everything on the fate of one tug of the feeding tube from deceased speaks volumes about his arrogance and otherwise good fortune. But Dubya had to win this battle with the courts and our Constitution, it was argued amongst the religious fanatics. Even now - after having issued edict after canon followed by dictum through the legal pad and hollow squak box that has become Karl Rove - he still needs his right wing base to articulate a position that clearly stands on the wrong side of his addictive need to control the ebb and flow of our collective morality ... just as he did with WMD, Saddam Hussein and the Saudi Royal Family. It's a deprived sickness worse than black tar heroin. Out of one side of his mouth Dubya will dig deep into all the reasons why we should put Arabs (pronounced Ay-rabs) on a magical mystery tour of Uzbekistan's best and most lethal torture huts - and so what if a few of them die during the funhouse ride - then on the other side of the morality scale, this corrupt and freakish hellhole of an administration spikes yet another few testosterone shots of greed and outrage and revenge ... then settles its gunsights on a perverse cocktail of homophobia, quasi-military fetishes for destruction at any cost and taking that dip into a rank and wretched conservative sewer known as the culture of life.The rest of the somewhat free world just laughed, but the religious fundamentalists are c[...]

If He Was a Messiah ... Why All The Insanity Then?


"We have a court that has essentially stuck its finger in God's eye and said we're going to legislate you out of the schools. We're going to take your commandments from off the courthouse steps in various states. We're not going to let little children read the commandments of God. We're not going to let the Bible be read, no prayer in our schools. We have insulted God at the highest levels of our government. And then we say, 'Why does this happen?' Well, why it's happening is that God Almighty is lifting his protection from us."- Pat Robertson, explaining on his 700 Club cable TV program why the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, had occurred two days earlier (but oblivious as to why such nations as Sweden and The Netherlands, which are more secular than the U.S. could ever hope to be, are spared such tragedies), quoted from Beth Corbin."If Jesus had been killed twenty years ago, Catholic school children would be wearing little electric chairs around their necks instead of crosses."- Lenny BruceAh, yes! It's all about the values. You just had to know that the unctuous wonder of NBC, Pudgy Timmy, who is also known as the Pillsbury Doughboy of pundit TV, had to see the ratings opportunity for Meet The Press: He couldn't let go of such a wonderful opportunity to rattle the cage under the guise of actually giving a shit. Hell, Sparky, there's nothing like Easter Sunday to make us grab onto those bloody wooden Christ-o-fixation symbols and profess our allegiance like Stuart Smalley drinking mightly from the Jerry Fallwell Kool Aid dispenser.PUDGY TIMMY:  I want to read something that you said to The Washington Post in 2003:  "Catholics have no right to impose their views on others.  Even if they say homosexual conduct is unfitting for a Catholic, they have no right to impose that on the nation."If you believe that homosexuality is immoral or that abortion is the taking of a life, or that you believe very strongly that Terri Schiavo should remain on a tube, are you not honor-bound as a political figure to try to, in effect, bring about that result, if it's a firmly held motional belief?REV. DRINAN (MY KINDA PADRE):  Yes and no.  Go back to Vatican II.  Three thousand bishops agonized over this, and at the end of the day, they said that the church should never seek to impose its views.  They should not have any shadow of coercion, renouncing 20 centuries of the church dominating the scene.  So I think that it's a different world, and we respect everybody else and there's lots of things that are immoral that should not be illegal....PUDGY TIMMY:  There are now more Muslims than Jews in America.  Is there an Islamic view of the Schiavo case?  Is there a monolithic view?PROFFESSOR ASLAN:  No, just as there isn't a monolithic view amongst Christians and amongst Jews or amongst any religious faith.  I think that most Muslims agree that life is a precious commodity, that we must endure life and we must respect it and value it.  But I also think that the important thing about this Schiavo case is that it is bringing up, not just a legal issue, but as Father said, it's bringing up this--an important debate about what life truly is. Is it just simply a heartbeat or is it a matter of quality of life?  Is it a matter of vitalism?...PUDGY TIMMY:  You are a Catholic priest, a Jesuit.  You are also a member of Congress, and then the pope told you, "Get out of politics."  What was it like when you received that order?REV. DRINAN (THE PADRE GETS IT):  Well, it's a little more complicated than that.  They changed canon law.  I had the permission of Cardinal Cushing to run for Congress, and he was enthusiastic ab[...]

Ayatollah Dubya Issues a Fatwa and Cable TV News Becomes Al-Jahzeera


"The dissident does not operate in the realm of genuine power at all. He is not seeking power. He has no desire for office and does not gather votes. He does not attempt to charm the public, he offers nothing and promises nothing. He can offer, if anything, only his own skin -- and he offers it solely because he has no other way of affirming the truth he stands for. His actions simply articulate his dignity as a citizen, regardless of the cost."- Vaclav Havel"I would warn Orlando that you're right in the way of some serious hurricanes and I don't think I'd be waving those [Gay Pride] flags in God's face if I were you."- Pat Robertson, The 700 Club television program, August 6, 1998 The Texas Stranglers - our child preznut, Dubya, and "Bugman" Tom Delay - along with Senator "Doktor Mengele" Frist went off the deep end this week, but nobody seems to know what this all means ... not just yet, anyways. The whole and sordid notion of a "culture of life" was lost, once again, in a staggeringly vast Skinner Box of rabid dumbness and bitterly placed innuendo that apparently represents nothing at all and were put together at the cost of interrupting Sunday afternoon brunch for a host of politcally needy Congressmen who were denied the golden opportunity to wine and dine only Washington's best cash and carry flesh ... never mind that in the rest of the civilized world this weekly endeavor is widely regarded as the world's second oldest profession.The religious right base, a sleazy collection of defrocked and delusional priests, constitutional attorneys, slimy moralists and crackerjack punishment addicts, have spent the better part of four years roaming about people's bedrooms and hijacking the Rethug party to examine almost everyone for alleged sex crimes and un-Godly thoughts in places like Miami and Columbus and deep into the East Los Angeles barrio.The calculated quid pro quo was to trade away social freedoms for theocratic jurisdiction, while establishing a pattern of some kind of bond between starving the beast known as the federal budget and erecting a series of smoke screens to tangle the scent - but there was never any firm agreement on anything but the high cost of inserting a feeding tube when the clock on billable hours runs twenty-four hours a day.There was even more hollow muttering and vicious slander and endless paranoid moaning that arrived via the media pimps, crooked preachers, dirty cops and crud merchants. Freaks with bad teeth and even worse breath and skin conditions were pounding the desks of CNN and MSNBC and FOX and staggered aimlessly into the legions of security guards protecting Terry Schiavo - our pundit patron saint of the Million Dollar Baby gone insane - from receiving a non-court-ordered glass of water or Wheat Thin. There was a sense of ignorance turning into madness followed by anger amongst the medical profession for allowing Bill Frist to take the Hypocratic Oath.Both The New York Times and The Washington Post jumped knee deep into the issue with front page analysis into the life and times of America's worst and most baffling social lightning rod since John Wayne Bobbitt had his manhood tossed on the side of the road, as the rest of the nation continues on its collision course with doom, despair and duncehood.The final obituary by the media wonks held hostage by this age of irrational fanaticism will clearly be an expansive roadmap on everything ever transcribed or analyzed within the breadth of the DSM IV - The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders - starting with anxiety conditions, a wide and general level of manic-depressive psychosis and a ma[...]

Existential Terror ... The Rethug Playbook on Amphetimines


amphetamine noun. A colorless, volatile liquid, C9H13N, used as a central nervous system stimulant in the treatment of certain conditions, such as attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, depression, and narcolepsy, and abused illegally as a stimulant."I like the idea of people running for office. There's a positive effect when you run for office. Maybe some will run for office and say, vote for me, I look forward to blowing up America. I don't know, I don't know if that will be their platform or not. But it's -- I don't think so. I think people who generally run for office say, vote for me, I'm looking forward to fixing your potholes, or making sure you got bread on the table."- Dubya brings us his favorite local political issue (potholes) of representative government, Washington, D.C., March 16, 2005"The only way to look at a politician is down."- H.L. MenckenWe are still too caught up in the collateral damage now to consider all the ramifications and understand what truly has taken place in these last four frenzied years ... or to consider for a moment that the Real Intendment of what our current corporate oligarchy calls the "The Post 9/11 World" and what historians will forever term as "Shock and Awe Democracy" which will surface not so much from the day-to-day events of Iraqi self-determination and America's new role in shaping geopolitical borders - or even from our own terminal destiny with the unpaid purchase order - but mostly from what the survivors will inevitably accept as what all of this madness really cost us in the end.Here, to take the Lord's name in vain, is a Jesus Christ-sized mini-series right out of The Sopranos: tragedy, conspiracy, dark and off-the-wall humor, and the unending suspense of never really knowing who was lying or who was running his mouth to the bank of corrupt feds or who was telling the truth all along ... These days it hardly seems to matter much to the vast wasteland of political greenhorns who find themselves ensnared by a 24-hour Orwellian dysinformation campaign - as it is being played out in the duplicitous morass known as "organized media" - like it was another summer rerun of Desperate Housewives or American Idol with tanks, humvees, jets and missles as the teen heartthrobs. Not even hardcore libertarians or your garden variety moderates quite know what to make of this direction we have chosen or have even a remote clue as to whether we have reached the other end of this phase or whether we're trapped in a constant state of bizarre transmutation.The massive downstream fallout from this exercise, the raw and sometimes petty drama of the daily malfeasance and the deceptively played ignorance from Our Preznut, "Chimpy McFlightsuit," comes together in a multi-tiered plot that appeals to almost every form of curious mind - from the bleeding heart activist and peacenik demonstrator to the tightly packed constituency of Barnaby Jones aficionados and the millions of silent voices whose sole interest in these proceedings is the inevitable spectacle of envisioning once-dominant and self-righteous men brought down to their knees like Jimmy Swaggart whimpering for our forgiveness.Consider Donald "Redrum" Rumsfeld and Paul "Dopey" Wolfowitz, as examples - a pair of career bureaucrats and close allies of every Rethug chief executive since Gerald Ford - who, if they were Romans back in the ribald days of Tiberius and Claudius, would have purchased only the best gladiators by loaning Caesar the cash at triple the going rate. They are the ideological toxic waste from the Reagan Revolution as it then played out in the penetralia of [...]

Off With Their Heads and Other Curious Delivery Systems


"The United States and the U.S. stand together in support of the Iraqi people and the new Iraqi government, which will soon come into action."- Dubya redefines the present coalition forces in Iraq, Brussels, Belgium, February 22, 2005"Sometimes, words have consequences you don't intend them to mean. 'Bring 'em on' is the classic example, when I was really trying to rally the troops and make it clear to them that I fully understood, you know, what a great job they were doing. And those words had an unintended consequence. It kind of, some interpreted it to be defiance in the face of danger. That certainly wasn't the case."- It's kind of hard to draw that conclusion if you revisit the evidence accumulated over years of listening to Dubya, Washington, D.C., January 14, 2005Friends tell me I watch way too much pundit TV, but they are only half-right. There's a wide disparity between simply "tuning in" for the lastest spin session on CNN or ABC or MSNBC - or the Home Shopping Network, for that matter - and charting a course that actively responds to the public relations slime job being rammed into cyberspace like Play-doh through a fun factory fuzzy pumper. The key distinction, for the vacant and retarded and uninformed, is the moment it takes to stand on the ledge in a moment of total freedom with the adrenaline vibrating through your fingertips and a tragic misstep that leads to a meaningless and terrible death.The lesson from all of this is that you must be an educated observer, and you have to throw each broadcast over on its side to truly understand who benefits most from the message: If all you learn from the constant disorganized barrage of fractured facts and bloated commentary is the story appears to be truthful, you have been sentenced to a lifetime of confusion and horror beyond human capacity - especially if you have one of those high-end satellite systems beaming seven hundred TV stations, non-stop, in the form of a jagged white hum - from which the deliberate distortions are marked by some hellish metronome bent to hyperspeed. Our world is surrounded by a cool plasma oasis today, whether the medium is TV or HDTV or Internet, and it's getting even harder to pinpoint the distinction. The only difference between Peter Jennings on ABC and Hewged B. Clanked pimping overstock asian pornography by way of some exploited email list that burped out your domain is not so easy to comprehend when all you've done is sit in front of a terminal while the whole world is trying to lift the last bottom dollar from your wallet. These are the sum of all the passive-aggressive activities driven by incessant greed and the petty need to control, and the voices sound so genuine and concerned that it seems like it's coming from your own conscience - as if it were a whisper calling out to you during the transition of one dream and into another - until you can no longer escape the inevitable choking sound in your throat.This is what happens when technology passes too much information at a dizzying and convergent pace, forcing you to parse out every fifteenth word just to keep up, which is like neglecting to read the fine print before you drove off the lot in that practical used car with the great finance rate that you just had to have - the one with the new coat of paint and bald tires and the pesky leak in the radiator - and many good people get taken on a bad deal every day.Hell almighty, meandering once again, but not so far from the point I was trying to make - because any mention of "bad deal" can always be traced back to the dubious and painful reali[...]

Strange Myths and Arguments from A Loser's Den


"It's an important concept for our fellow citizens to understand: That no one in need will ever be forced to choose a faith-based provider. That's an important concept for people to understand. What that means is if you're the Methodist church and you sponsor an alcohol treatment center, they can't say only Methodists, only Methodists who drink too much can come to our program. 'All Drunks Are Welcome' is what the sign ought to say." - Dubya's uplifting Tony Robbins moment in Washington, D.C., March 1, 2005Some stories in the naked city are terribly messy, and this one could take a very long time to tell if I ventured to describe all the sordid particulars and reasons for all the blame and bizarreness and freakishness that surfaced along the journey and rationalized all the blood on the walls. It's a pretty vain time to be American - and it's getting more and more dangerous, but we'll get back to that point later.The last thing I did before taking that tragic leap of faith that kept me free from an unrelenting depression over the current state of political affairs these days was to tune into Hardball for another menagerie of despair, speculation and provocateurism, alternating between moments of low-grade cosmic precision and a suicidal tendency that reared its ugly head in the forms of Marie Cocco, columnist for The Washington Post, and Tony Blankely of the Moonie Times, another bastion of journalistic mendacity.Such scandalous bastards! These freakazoids pundits are the same retreads who played the lead role of organized lap dogs for the last biggest deception of an administration, known in the criminally insane wing of the Rethug party as the "Reagan Revolution," a grotesque collection of down-low misfits and cranky ideologues and high-stakes racketeers so befuddled with psychosis and esurience that Baby Doc Duvalier was their Ricardo Montalban and Imelda Marcos became a pin-up gal.And the nation had fallen for the Gipper's cruel hoax. But so what? Americans love hucksters and carneys and fairy tales, as they say in Hollywood back lots, and we are easily inspired by the sleight of hand in front of a circus tent and the big lie from our desperate politicians constantly in re-election mode, which explains why pinheads like Billy Mays can get rich with mind-numbing infomercials hawking truck loads of Kaboom and OxiClean, while good men are forced to die like dogs in the street ... I am not exactly sure if I should fork over the credit card or pop a cap in my temple from hearing, "Woooooood Driiiiiiiiiies Oooooouuuut," a thousand freaking times a day. Call now and get a "reusable" cleaning bucket as long as you can handle the noise pollution ... or a win a date with Ron Popeil - inventor of " The Pocket Fisherman" and "Inside-the-Shell Egg Scrambler" and "GLH-9 Hair in Can Spray" - with an orange glow coated gopher grabber shoved down your piehole to muffle the shrieks of boredom during an all-expenses paid trip on a deserted island to make ass-children.Ha, ha, ha, Sparky. How's that one for a funhouse mirror? There is no worse agony in life than to realize that in the course of every thirty seconds no less than a thousand Americans could be inspired to dial Billy Mays' toll free number, which probably gets answered in places like Bangalore and Manila, shifting the American trade deficit another fifty cents each time you grapple with the Gator grip.Ah, but never mind this fruitless dive into the shadowy realm of infomercials. They are no more appropriate than the nightly post-mortem on the American Cen[...]

Staying on Theme With Pathetic Ramblings from the Freak Desk


Even with tax refund season upon us, we've been a little cash strapped here at the Team Gonzography complex on the sandy shores of Hermosa Beach. It's not a plea for paypal referrals; it's just the way things are these days. But to make up for the expenses required to operate this place, we have let some of our creative juices do the talking and recently shipped off several ideas for TV pilots for the coming entertainment cycle, which follows this loosely based "to-do-it" list if we are to have an impact on the Nielsen ratings by September - proposals and contracts with the networks in the spring, casting and pre-production by the start of summer, and an expeditious production cycle leading to the pilot itself. Our crack Hollywood representation - led by the indomitable Malosi Shapiro, the first Samoan/Jewish agent in the entertainment industry - has advised us that the vast majority of these pilots never see the light of day much less a first episode on FOX, but we remain undaunted in this challenge to impress the network executives in charge by aiming our proposals at a new and fractured viewing public at home.Here, fresh from the shared server holding the treatments and scripts to our pilots, are just a few of the TV series we are pushing for the upcoming season:The Metal Detector: This reality show reveals the hidden world surrounding America's "unsung heroes in the war on terror" - the security guards who frisk you at airports and make the tough racial profiling decisions and force you to take off your shoes - appears to be the front-runner, but we'll need the guy from COPs or the other narrator from Most Scariest Police Chases to get this one to committee. "As long as the test audiences don't fall asleep, this one is a go!" according to our agent. Abdullah's Heroes: Positioned as a campy homage to the TV classic Hogan's Heroes, the setting is Camp X-ray at Gitmo, and this sit-com traces the lives and escape attempts of a ragtag pack of Al Qaeda detainees and their dim-witted American captors who seem more occupied with Beyonce posters than guarding them.With each week comes another botched-but-humorous plot to overtake the prison camp, which is always broken up by the guards - often through pure luck - by a gregarious sergeant from with a severe eating disorder, played by Drew Carey. "We may be able to pursuade Tony Shahloub from the USA series Monk," says Malosi, our representation. "But in the wake of the Abu Ghraib prison scandal, Arab-Americans see the plot line in a terribly bad light."CSI - The Archdiocese: Need I say anymore?McQueer: Key West's meanest and badest law enforcement official just so happens to be gay, but in a real manly sort of way - at least that's the synopsis we pitched to the network execs. We have serious doubts about finding success with a homosexual storyline of any kind, unless we can get Tony Danza to play the lead role and Jude Law to take on the part of his feisty but organized significant other. Who Let That One Go?: Another key reality TV show idea from the Team Gonzography think tank, it's all about five average Americans who eat way too much fast food - a spirited cross between Candid Camera and MTV's The Real World. They share a stylish apartment in Beverly Hills and venture out into public places with a harsh case of flatulence, and unsuspecting shoppers and visitors and church goers must guess Who Let That One Go? for tons of cash and prizes before the next commerical break. This one, we believe, has a great deal of traction and a[...]

Quien Es Mas Macho ... Jeff Gannon or Rip Taylor?


Sex. Sex. Sex. On some days you wonder what it all means. And then on some days you actually find out. It's like noticing a gigantic mushroom cloud in your rearview mirror during rush hour traffic, and you're locked into assuming the position for a cruel annihilation that is about to begin. Ka-blam! Total destruction. Nothing more to debate, it's all right there in the fiery gloom.Some of us live for these moments of supreme clarity, these low-rent and ribald revelations that produce a hot and ruthless moment of total understanding, and on many days I can be found wallowing in the muck with them ... but there are times when I chose to ignore the naked truth. It's not so different than the raw anticipation you feel when inching toward that first decent on a roller coaster, or getting into a violent bar fight. Whoosh! An immediate charge inside your bones, eyes darting and the senses settling on a dull and distant whisper.Extremism is the sport of deviants and fools. Some of us enjoy the ride, but you really have to want to go there after the first chance at anything.History is chockfull of these odd and crazed beings. They surface momentarily to remind us that the pathway between man and creature is terribly narrow and then somebody throws a match into the gasoline and the road flare becomes a brushfire, and many times it can't be subdued. The foul scent of terminal perversion overtakes the motives and alibis. It happened to us in the summer of 2004 and it's been reshaped into the Iraqi Governing Council, that "dead can dance" rhumba towards the nuclear problem in Tehran and the administration's crusade to evaporate Social Security in the name of a designer crisis much like WMD. It defined our latest descent into the abyss of corporate dysinformation disguised as fair and free elections. The stretched truth is all part of the public record now; the fix is in.It's one part Marquis de Sade on a quaalude martini, another part Fight Club, with the rest of us starting to lose our minds, along with a ton of people dying, and suddenly our boyish lad Dubya isn't quite what he was making himself out to be, now, is he? The press nursed him through two rubber-stamped elections, allegations of a cocaine habit the size of Midland, difficulty mixing Jim Beam with a steering wheel and a knocked-up receptionist at best. But Dubya is God's little wonder. His special little creature. You've been warned already, Sparky, and you'll be warned again, while we are forced to watch him bounce around the planet like a wind up toy on speed, just another self-serving testament to high stakes greed. Good old Dubya: Take a real good look at him because he's the archetype for a new American century, perhaps the last in all its gutter ball resplendence. These people who put him there - the freaks from the penthouse office spaces and supremacist think tanks and secret bunkers - it's really no mystery where they come from. We've sharpened the human instinct into a relentless need of marking our time on Earth with every petty desire or base deception or eager addiction, we have manufactured reputations to the size of the Hoover Dam, separated the world by connecting it to endless moments of instant gratification through a cybernetic network of scams and spams, recycled even the dullest and least attractive fads with consolidated house notes that are all coming due, until every living human being becomes an aspiring emperor to his own avidity, and thus becomes his own blue[...]

Let the Cheap Freaks Pick Over the Carcass


Christopher Matthews (a.k.a., Tweety)MSNBC TV30 Rockefeller PlazaNew York, N.Y. 10112Dear Chris:Thanks for your comments on my Hunter S. Thompson tribute piece about two posts down on the Gonzography blogroll. I've been underground from three weeks of harsh escapist reality, and could have easily done another several more, when the good Dr. Gonzo passed on due to karmic events beyond his control, and thus I was left with the odd bit of luck to discover your most recent and unedited email.That said, however, I'd be more than honored to write a few words for you. Has your producer finally allowed you to share what you have in mind? My prime turf has been the world of Dubya, with an occassional sale to publications in Buenos Aires and Slovakia; that should give you a hint as to where my thought process is at, although the blogworld is just as fun and entertaining as your book, American: Beyond Our Grandest Notions, appears to be. Overall, I tend to gravitate more towards the path less tread, offbeat types of stories, the kind of journalism that seems to float just beneath the surface for weeks at a time, and anything dealing with a society drenched in hypocrisy, pointless military build-ups, vacant political leaders, and failures of our intelligence apparatus on a biblical scale. I have done some movie and book reviews for some far out rags, but the fly-over state crowd keeps sending me nasty emails from Scarborough Country, saying that I gave them a wrong turn on books like Richard Meltzer's LA is the Capital of Kansas, recalling the worst recommendation to date. The rednecks and fundies didn't seem to enjoy that one in the least.There are any number of storylines to which I could add commentary for your show.An expose on the rampant homosexuality surrounding the GOP. Out here in California, being gay is really no big deal at all and you can even find work in retail or a call center that hasn't yet been outsourced. So far today I met several gay people and none of them asked me to marry in the spring. The idea behind this one is to disturb red state idiots into acceptance by tracing Dubya back to his homoerotic days back at Yale with the former Mayor of Knoxville, and how it shaped administration policy on providing Jeff Gannon (who has kicked off his newest online adventure) an unspeakable level of security clearance for the White House Press Corps, along with the appointment of Ken Mehlman as the new chair of the GOP. This doesn't mean that we are "outing" anyone of note here, but the more we juxtapose homosexuality with the party in control, the sooner gay people can marry without the fear of Moral Majority re-education camps. Somehow I don't think your network will jump at this story.A tragic piece on the state of race relations in "The Sixth Reich," as Hunter once wrote about Las Vegas. I haven't come to a final theme with this storyline just yet; but let's just say that a number of Italians have declared themselves as having a tribe called The Rigatonis and they're moving into formation around the American Freak Kingdom known as The Bellagio.Some sort of seedy examination on the lack of sex scandals in Washington, in light of Condi Rice's apparent state of androgyny whenever she is surrounded by the troops. All of which is very interesting because you can actually watch her behaving in this terrible way, but you can't control the impulse to kick in the TV screen.An in-depth study on "the precarious geography of the[...]

Speaking in Trainwrecks With a Pack of Vidiots


And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shackAnd you may find yourself in another part of the worldAnd you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobileAnd you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wifeAnd you may ask yourself — Well...How did I get here?- "Once in a Lifetime", The Talking HeadsCan you imagine if my name had been Mungo Bush?- Dubya taking shots at a reporter's son's name, while with European journalists at the White House, February 18, 2005As Somerset Maugham once said, the facts never made a story truer. The delusional and - sometimes - ribald tales of Dubya B. Moron have made for a compelling study into the mind of a 1970s failure turned corporate might-have-been who soon became a fortunate deceiver (while racking up a death toll approaching Idi Amin's), and his is among the most brazen political administrations since ... oh, well ... since Saddam Hussein was found in a spider hole clutching to the hopes of escape from an American unit on patrol in a modest home in a small village, and not in a spider hole as announced by the Tommy Franks wing of the FOXNews junta abroad. At first glance, the story of a brain-dead ferret son of a successful political figure - who in his own words said, "the Oval Office is the kind of place where people stand outside, they're getting ready to come in and tell me what for, and they walk in and get overwhelmed in the atmosphere, and they say, man, you're looking pretty" - will never be regarded as a profoundly thought-provoking or moving political dissertation.Unless he turns out to be the result of a CIA “mind control experiment” who Daddy traded off for a few greedy years at the top of the food chain, having killed a few enemies of the state in the dark and shadowy world of Cold War espionage during that timeframe when - according to most accounts - he went AWOL from the Air National Guard and reportedly went under the wagon for a couple of strange and recalcitrant years. Even then, at its lowest form, his biography places a harsh and interrogatory light above the American Dream, with America's undying obsession with two of its major forces as its white hot theme: the unbridled power of TV packaging and the government's intelligence apparatus, each of which seems to reach into the dark corners of the other's cottage industry these days, sharing a point in the middle termed, "message convergence".Dubya has drawn us all into his shady netherworld of half-lies, outright lies, scandal and murder, a world to which he's both addicted and fascinated. He's caught between the Jesus Christ who forgives him and the abject sin he's driven by. And he's torn between the demands of the job of preznut and the light television entertainment he provides on a nightly basis. There isn't a more conflicted man in America, now a prisoner of his own hopeless self-destruction and self-loathing once the long shadows pass midnight in the happy confines of the Big House. His supporters say he has this homespun tell-it-like-it-is vulnerability that gets him into trouble at times, but those of us grounded in reality know the bitter truth. Under that thick veneer of morbid dreadfulness, Dubya still manages to infect them with his own bizarre wavelength of enthusiasm ... which means nothing more than "he was the horse that brought us to the cliff, so we might as well jump off the ledge and join him in the ditch ... because he has be[...]

The King is Dead; Raoul Duke Cashes His Check


"George W Bush does not speak for me or my son or my mother or my friends or the people I respect in this world. We didn't vote for these cheap, greedy little killers who speak for America today - and we will not vote for them again in 2002. Or 2004. Or ever. Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads?" - Kingdom of Fear, 2003"At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles - a restless idealism on the one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other - that kept me going." - Paul Kemp, The Rum Diary, 1959"At one point during the campaign I mentioned Pat Buchanan at McGovern headquarters, for some reason, and Rick Stearns, perhaps the most hardline left-bent ideologue on McGovern's staff, sort of chuckled and said, 'Oh yeah, we're pretty good friends. Pat's the only one of those bastards over there with any principles.' When I mentioned this to another McGovern staffer, he snapped: 'Yeah, maybe so ... like Josef Goebbels had principles.'" - The Great Shark Hunt, 1975"We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multicolored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers ... Also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls ... not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked in a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can ..." - Fear and Loathing in Las VegasSon-of-a-bitch! But what we want to keep in mind is that "principles" is a very relative term in and about Washington these days - with the diabolical claws of the Neo-Con agenda poised to strike down everything that was once proud and good about being a player in the American Century, at any hot and ruthless instant - so when Dr. Gonzo slipped out the backdoor in an eminently reasonable fashion from within the confines of his rustic home on the outskirts of Woody Creek, Colorado, he must have had an idea just how appropriate a day on which he decided to take his life, resulting in the abject theft of almost every headline on an otherwise non-descript President's Day.One of the most extraordinary aspects of the Hunter is Gone story has been the way that the mainstream press has handled his passing: Thompson was the black sheep of the family who drank a little too much and drove a little too fast and hung around with a too tough crowd, so the subtext of his death was more a form of resignation than anger, depression or outrage. What had begun at the Kentucky Derby in 1970, as one of the finest essays on the decadent and depraved American experiment, was soon surpassed, by then, into what is the most thoroughly and most horrifically revolutionary pieces of American literature since Henry Miller first hung out with Anais Nin in Paris. It was his signature work, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, a toxic combination of straight reporting and mystical storytelling which has pushed the envelope on outlaw journalism and inspired the counter-culture for more than 30 years. Surely, critics with a long standing grudge or revisionist motives or total misunderstanding have long maintained that his later years were "wasted" and "meaningless," but such is the way for authors [...]