Arrogant Prophecies -- He was a Friend of Mine

I know for a fact that today's installment of the Arrogant Prophecies of the Third Galaxy was composed by the unknown poet at least twenty years before Terrible Tuesday.

In that context I find it uncanny how he captured something of the essence of the programs of abduction, rendering, secret incarceration, torture and concentration camps set in motion by Ronald Rexona and his Evil Companion, "Big" Dick Snarly.

The amazing thing is how they and their neo-cunz supporters were able to do this in plain view, transforming the Land of Light and Liberty into the United State of Arrogance when Monstrous Monday occurred most conveniently nearly seven years after Terrible Tuesday.

The answer is that very much of this was done with smoke and mirrors -- many of the chains they were forging were called by other names such as "homeland security", "protecting freedom and democracy", "patriotism", "fighting evil" and, of course, "supporting the troops".

Also, many things were hidden from public overview in the Chambers of Secrecy and the Bankers of Illusion, as long as the bottom lines were solidly black, were only too happy to play along with any deception, keept the public in happy ignorance of what the Project for the New Arrogant Century really entailed.

One fact that is not obvious, unless you dig down into the footnotes of the Absolute Truth, 21st Edition, is that many politicians who did not actively support the insane policies of the Supreme Hole but were complicit in their silence, were literally blackmailed into submission by information gleaned from illegal data mining.

He was a Friend of Mine

A friend of mine, a foreign man,
wrote upon the wall a super-secret plan.

But walls have ears, and now I hear
he's "disappeared" and won't be seen again this year...

Perhaps, you think the story stinks
and raise your glass to take another bitter drink?

Do you think that you can take your rest
and leave your other brothers and sisters to stand the test?

It could be Circus Maximus,
or maybe just a chocolate-flavored laxative!

As the football fields resound with farts,
your mind boggles, bursts and slowly falls apart...

You understand, but then you doubt
and a thousand-million jelly beans begin to shout:

"The food you steal is the food we eat!
Give it back to us, pretty, pretty please!"

_________________________________________
A friend? Well, I only knew him slightly. He was arrested and held for a year and a half on suspicion of terrorism. Then, without warning or any charges ever brought against him, he was deported back to his homeland where he dropped out of sight.

Was he "rendered", was he "disappeared", was he a terrorist? I'll never know.

What I do know is that things happen we'd rather not know. We're afraid something might touch our soul, so we pop a bag of chips and reach for the zapper instead...
As always, "jelly beans" is a near homonym for "human beings". The point is this: When the media stew has an after taste of oppression, or that crunch of bones which atrocity adds to the stew, we shout in horror, perhaps even outrage -- but for a moment only -- how quickly the Bankers of Illusion get us to fall back into apathy.

The Holy Idaho once told a story about ten people he cured of skin disease by getting them to take regular baths. When only one of the sick came back to thank him, the Idaho exclaimed, "Were there not ten? Where are the other nine?" (Look 17:17)

[Why the unknown poet at the end of his comments here suddenly refers to a parable of the Idaho is beyond me -- if you have any ideas, please let me know.]