[I was up late last night and uncovered yet another "sonnette" which surely must have been composed by the unknown poet of the Third Galaxy.
From the text itself, we can see that it was composed after the invasion of Wudda-Wreck, but before Monstrous Monday and the onset of the Terrible Times in that unfortunate.
Since I couldn't any actual notes from the author, I can't be sure, but I presume that Little Jack Horner refers to Ronald Rexona before he had become Supreme Hole.]
Knowing our pride in our arrogance,
as well as the depth of our ignorance,
combined with our aptitude for hate,
they found us easy to manipulate.
This is how they prepared their little ruse:
tons of lies were spun to resemble truth;
then spread for the Main Stream Media to use.
Even honest people were often confused!
In the end, although we'd been down this path before,
almost everybody was in favor of the war.
When Little Jack Horner in his corner stuck in his thumb,
Wudda-Wreck fell like an over-ripe plum!
Sadly though, it was years before we began
to understand the secret evil of their plan...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Just a Joke About Them "Chiggers"
[Here is the brief memo by Ichabod Rain on his childhood in Poosah City I promised to look up for you in my last post]
Being a white boy from up north, I'll never know (Great Potato be praised) what it's like to grow up in a place like Poosah City as a "chigger" just because your great, great great great grandparents didn't run fast enough when the slavers came.
My family moved to Poosah City when I was 9 years old -- segregation and what it meant was something new to me. I quickly learned was that there were two kinds people -- people and "chiggers".
The signs were everywhere. "Chiggers" were to seat from the back of the bus, separate water fountains, schools and, although they could eat in the same restaurant, "they" partook their meals in a dingy room at the back. True, the signs said "colored" and not "chigger". But that was a facade just as the phrase "separate but equal" -- the stress being on "separate", "equal" came in second or third place at least.
The epithet "chigger" itself was a tool in the beastly back beat to Jim Crow as it cawed in Poosah City. A story I often overheard as a child perhaps can give a better perspective of the reality. The story was told as a "joke" -- but the message was deadly serious:
Two boys* decided to go up north and they both struck it rich together. The one boy asked the other what he was going with all his money:
"I'm going to buy me a big white car, a suit and a white hat with white shoes to match. Then I'm going hitch up with a pretty blond white woman, go back to Poosah City and drive down Main Street -- what are you going to do with your money?
The other boy just kind of shuffled his feet and said, "I'm going to buy me a big black car, a black suit and a black hat with black shoes to match. Then I'm going to get me a good-looking black woman, go back to Poosah City and watch them hang your BLACK ASS from a lamp post on Main Street!!!"
But it wasn't a joke for the thousands of black "boys" who had seemed "a bit too uppity" to the "good old boys", or had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
* In the Poosah City of my youth, "boys", when referring to adults, always meant "chiggers". The exception was when it was used in a phrase like, "good old boys" -- then "boys" refers to whites who understood how to "keep them chiggers in their place"
Being a white boy from up north, I'll never know (Great Potato be praised) what it's like to grow up in a place like Poosah City as a "chigger" just because your great, great great great grandparents didn't run fast enough when the slavers came.
My family moved to Poosah City when I was 9 years old -- segregation and what it meant was something new to me. I quickly learned was that there were two kinds people -- people and "chiggers".
The signs were everywhere. "Chiggers" were to seat from the back of the bus, separate water fountains, schools and, although they could eat in the same restaurant, "they" partook their meals in a dingy room at the back. True, the signs said "colored" and not "chigger". But that was a facade just as the phrase "separate but equal" -- the stress being on "separate", "equal" came in second or third place at least.
The epithet "chigger" itself was a tool in the beastly back beat to Jim Crow as it cawed in Poosah City. A story I often overheard as a child perhaps can give a better perspective of the reality. The story was told as a "joke" -- but the message was deadly serious:
Two boys* decided to go up north and they both struck it rich together. The one boy asked the other what he was going with all his money:
"I'm going to buy me a big white car, a suit and a white hat with white shoes to match. Then I'm going hitch up with a pretty blond white woman, go back to Poosah City and drive down Main Street -- what are you going to do with your money?
The other boy just kind of shuffled his feet and said, "I'm going to buy me a big black car, a black suit and a black hat with black shoes to match. Then I'm going to get me a good-looking black woman, go back to Poosah City and watch them hang your BLACK ASS from a lamp post on Main Street!!!"
But it wasn't a joke for the thousands of black "boys" who had seemed "a bit too uppity" to the "good old boys", or had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
* In the Poosah City of my youth, "boys", when referring to adults, always meant "chiggers". The exception was when it was used in a phrase like, "good old boys" -- then "boys" refers to whites who understood how to "keep them chiggers in their place"
Sunday, February 24, 2008
On Horse Races and "Uppity" Chiggers
Well folks, since I've gotten over at least some of my disgust, I guess it's time to get back to the Quadrennial Horse Races.
The "Horse Races" are something quite peculiar to the Third Galaxy -- we have nothing like it in our more happy and saner world. Believe it or not, these contests are how the citizens of the Unified State of Arrogance "choose" among the approved aspirants as who will actually be allowed to run as candidate for, respectively, the Dumbrat and the Repugnant parties for the office of Prez of Arrogance.
Against all odds, at least the odds the television bobble heads gave, it now seems that Bulimo Charisma will soon lock in the candidacy for the Dumbrats. However, as our hero from "Blazing Saddles" leaves Pillory Flintstone in the Texas dust, what was even then obvious is now showing its ugly face. As we know, the Repugnant smear machine and echo chamber is in the grasp of a visceral hate for both Pillory and her husband, Bill "Big Dawg" Flintstone.
As Pillory's chances for grabbing the brass ring now seem to fade, Bulimo will attract the hatred double up as sure as a golf player, alone on the thirteenth green, holding his solid steel golf clubs over his head during a thunderstorm will attract lightning.
Bulimo's wife had the misfortune to say something honest the other day, which is something to be avoided in Arrogant politics. She said that for the first time in her adult life she was really proud of her country. What she meant, of course, is that, for the first time in a long time, people -- especially young people -- were taking an interest in the Horse Races, as if they felt they could really "make a difference".
She shouldn't have said that. In Arrogant politics, one must always be "Proud of Arrogance" -- it is a corollary to the other Pillar of Truth, "Supporting the Troops". It matters not what "the troops" are doing in the name of Arrogance -- killing a million civilians in Wudda-Wreck or three million peasants during the War to Save the Dominoes mean nothing. What matters is "Supporting the Troops".
In fact, "Supporting the Troops" is so important that criticism of the fact that the "troops" have been sent into action with second, even third rate body armor and transport is defeatism amounting to de-facto treason!
Therefore, you will understand why the great bobble-head pundit and television media monster, Bill "Faloofa" O'Really jumped all over Bulimo's wife saying, that he would, "Lead the lynch mob" if it proved true that she had in fact had said what she had, in fact, said.
In our happier and, relatively, saner world, the casual observer might not understand why anyone would take offense at such a humorous jibe.
You see, for more than a century, lynching was the ultimate tool in "keeping the chiggers down". "Chiggers" refers the descendants of black slaves. When they were freed as a consequence of the Civil War, the blacks became economic competitors to the poor white class of farmers. The ruling elites used this fact to sow mistrust and enmity between the whites and the blacks and this keep them both down.
When times were bad, for example when the price of cotton fell, lynching increased.
But what is a lynching?
Basically, a mob grabs somebody and hangs them -- but that is only the headline. When "chiggers" were lynched, there were all sorts of beastly foreplay -- flaying, eyes gouged with corkscrews, genitalia cut off and the victim having them stuffed in his mouth, nothing was too outrageous to suffer upon an "uppity chigger".
The point, is that lynching is not a parlor game and not something to joke about.
If I can find it in the footnotes to the Absolute Truth, I will next post some observations that Ichabod Rain made about growing up in Poosah City.
The "Horse Races" are something quite peculiar to the Third Galaxy -- we have nothing like it in our more happy and saner world. Believe it or not, these contests are how the citizens of the Unified State of Arrogance "choose" among the approved aspirants as who will actually be allowed to run as candidate for, respectively, the Dumbrat and the Repugnant parties for the office of Prez of Arrogance.
Against all odds, at least the odds the television bobble heads gave, it now seems that Bulimo Charisma will soon lock in the candidacy for the Dumbrats. However, as our hero from "Blazing Saddles" leaves Pillory Flintstone in the Texas dust, what was even then obvious is now showing its ugly face. As we know, the Repugnant smear machine and echo chamber is in the grasp of a visceral hate for both Pillory and her husband, Bill "Big Dawg" Flintstone.
As Pillory's chances for grabbing the brass ring now seem to fade, Bulimo will attract the hatred double up as sure as a golf player, alone on the thirteenth green, holding his solid steel golf clubs over his head during a thunderstorm will attract lightning.
Bulimo's wife had the misfortune to say something honest the other day, which is something to be avoided in Arrogant politics. She said that for the first time in her adult life she was really proud of her country. What she meant, of course, is that, for the first time in a long time, people -- especially young people -- were taking an interest in the Horse Races, as if they felt they could really "make a difference".
She shouldn't have said that. In Arrogant politics, one must always be "Proud of Arrogance" -- it is a corollary to the other Pillar of Truth, "Supporting the Troops". It matters not what "the troops" are doing in the name of Arrogance -- killing a million civilians in Wudda-Wreck or three million peasants during the War to Save the Dominoes mean nothing. What matters is "Supporting the Troops".
In fact, "Supporting the Troops" is so important that criticism of the fact that the "troops" have been sent into action with second, even third rate body armor and transport is defeatism amounting to de-facto treason!
Therefore, you will understand why the great bobble-head pundit and television media monster, Bill "Faloofa" O'Really jumped all over Bulimo's wife saying, that he would, "Lead the lynch mob" if it proved true that she had in fact had said what she had, in fact, said.
In our happier and, relatively, saner world, the casual observer might not understand why anyone would take offense at such a humorous jibe.
You see, for more than a century, lynching was the ultimate tool in "keeping the chiggers down". "Chiggers" refers the descendants of black slaves. When they were freed as a consequence of the Civil War, the blacks became economic competitors to the poor white class of farmers. The ruling elites used this fact to sow mistrust and enmity between the whites and the blacks and this keep them both down.
When times were bad, for example when the price of cotton fell, lynching increased.
But what is a lynching?
Basically, a mob grabs somebody and hangs them -- but that is only the headline. When "chiggers" were lynched, there were all sorts of beastly foreplay -- flaying, eyes gouged with corkscrews, genitalia cut off and the victim having them stuffed in his mouth, nothing was too outrageous to suffer upon an "uppity chigger".
The point, is that lynching is not a parlor game and not something to joke about.
If I can find it in the footnotes to the Absolute Truth, I will next post some observations that Ichabod Rain made about growing up in Poosah City.
Friday, February 22, 2008
The Terrible Times -- a Kvad
[The unknown poet of the Third Galaxy often experimented.
For example, as in this small piece which plays with a kvad form from the skaldic poetry of the North Lands. The skalds of the North Lands made more use of alliteration than rhymes.
Six lines of four stressed syllables was not the most common form of kvad, but I think this piece, although a bit rough around the edges, reads quite well and expands with some feeling the tormented themes which most concerned the unknown poet.]
Their lack of common decency,
was only matched by their hypocrisy.
They pretended to spread democracy
by dispensing justice from the barrel of a gun.
At the end of the day, the goal of their game
was to conquer the world or bring it down in flames.
It was said, "It's about the oil and other stuff!"
That was true, but not quite true enough...
It was about all things that could be abused,
up to and including human lives.
Their genes were seen as a hill of beans
to be counted and added to the bottom line.
It was a time, a Terrible Time,
when wicked works were wrought by all.
By all except a few who saw
and recognized the nature of the beast.
The beast which ripped the womb of birth
and desecrated the Mother, Earth.
For example, as in this small piece which plays with a kvad form from the skaldic poetry of the North Lands. The skalds of the North Lands made more use of alliteration than rhymes.
Six lines of four stressed syllables was not the most common form of kvad, but I think this piece, although a bit rough around the edges, reads quite well and expands with some feeling the tormented themes which most concerned the unknown poet.]
Their lack of common decency,
was only matched by their hypocrisy.
They pretended to spread democracy
by dispensing justice from the barrel of a gun.
At the end of the day, the goal of their game
was to conquer the world or bring it down in flames.
It was said, "It's about the oil and other stuff!"
That was true, but not quite true enough...
It was about all things that could be abused,
up to and including human lives.
Their genes were seen as a hill of beans
to be counted and added to the bottom line.
It was a time, a Terrible Time,
when wicked works were wrought by all.
By all except a few who saw
and recognized the nature of the beast.
The beast which ripped the womb of birth
and desecrated the Mother, Earth.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
With No Regrets....
My wandering mind came across a strange and rather disturbing thought this morning. I will try and describe it:
If immortality could be purchased,
would it matter at all what it would have to cost?
There would be those who'd be ready to pay!
If the elixir had to be distilled daily
from the bones of a thousand mutilated babies,
they would smile with glee and they would become
our masters. You think not? Consider this:
What will people not do for oil, for gold,
for diamonds?
Ah, I think I should leave the poetry to the unknown poet of the Third Galaxy -- today, a bittersweet "sonnette" apparently written in what he often referred to as "the late afternoon".
If immortality could be purchased,
would it matter at all what it would have to cost?
There would be those who'd be ready to pay!
If the elixir had to be distilled daily
from the bones of a thousand mutilated babies,
they would smile with glee and they would become
our masters. You think not? Consider this:
What will people not do for oil, for gold,
for diamonds?
Ah, I think I should leave the poetry to the unknown poet of the Third Galaxy -- today, a bittersweet "sonnette" apparently written in what he often referred to as "the late afternoon".
It's kind of ridiculous, the things we do
to make our way through each passing day.
We jump out of bed, bite some bread and chew
it quick, then gulp our coffee on our way
to the door. We say goodbye and out on the road
we go in droves of busses, cars and trucks.
"Each day must bring at least a hundered blows!"
the Preacher said, "It's not a matter of luck!"
Win or lose, in the end -- it's all the same...
The vanity of trying to "catch the wind"
leads only to more misery, sorrow and pain.
We're all trapped in snares before we begin
and the snare draws daily tighter around our necks...
It's best to live life fully, with no regrets...
Sunday, February 17, 2008
The Gift...
[We had a wedding here (our daughter) so we have been busy, but today I post another "sonnette" composed by the famous (to me anyway) unknown poet of the Third Galaxy -- it should be seen as a continuation of the thought and mood of the previous posting, "David's Harp"]
To be able to touch the soul and make it sing
now that's a gift fit for any king!
Or would you prefer four and twenty blackbirds
in a pie, or something even more absurd?
The queen in her parlor eating bread and honey?
The king in his counting house counting up his money?
The gift of being human being is what?
An apple or orange to be peeled, sliced and cut
to suit the tastes of some master race?
Or some creatures come to us from outer space?
Or, the seed of human genes, as industrial patents,
sold to global monetary giants?
How rare it is we truly appreciate
being aware of the gift of being incarnate!
To be able to touch the soul and make it sing
now that's a gift fit for any king!
Or would you prefer four and twenty blackbirds
in a pie, or something even more absurd?
The queen in her parlor eating bread and honey?
The king in his counting house counting up his money?
The gift of being human being is what?
An apple or orange to be peeled, sliced and cut
to suit the tastes of some master race?
Or some creatures come to us from outer space?
Or, the seed of human genes, as industrial patents,
sold to global monetary giants?
How rare it is we truly appreciate
being aware of the gift of being incarnate!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
David's Harp
[I apologize for continuing to post these short poems which the unknown poet of the Third Galaxy fancifully called "sonnettes", that is verses which, in a vague way, follow the form we know as the "sonnet" -- I uncovered these works in my researches in the 21st Edition of the Absolute Truth and found them to be, although not really great poetry, a refreshing breeze in that period before the commencement of the Terrible Times in that poor world.]
Perhaps it gives you cause for gentle laugh
to learn I found this poem while taking a bath!
The fact is that, when we are most relaxed,
we tread more easily the simple path
to kingdoms of the soul and eternal mind.
It's as if the Child opens his eyes to find,
with sapphire lights twinkling eternally,
that secret Christmas Tree in you and me!
It's such a humbling gift to be able to speak
of how the Earth is inherited by the meek.
The things that teachers teach and preachers preach
do not interest me all that much.
I'd rather find some rare device to touch
the soul and make it sing -- like David's Harp!
Perhaps it gives you cause for gentle laugh
to learn I found this poem while taking a bath!
The fact is that, when we are most relaxed,
we tread more easily the simple path
to kingdoms of the soul and eternal mind.
It's as if the Child opens his eyes to find,
with sapphire lights twinkling eternally,
that secret Christmas Tree in you and me!
It's such a humbling gift to be able to speak
of how the Earth is inherited by the meek.
The things that teachers teach and preachers preach
do not interest me all that much.
I'd rather find some rare device to touch
the soul and make it sing -- like David's Harp!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Poetic Ruse
[So tired I am of all the darkness, not only in the Third Galaxy, but even in our more peaceful and even, to a degree, sane world, I was so glad to discover in the 21st Edition of the Absolute Truth some poetry of a brighter nature composed by the famous, to me at least, unknown poet of the Third Galaxy -- I will post a few of what he (she?) called "sonnettes"* over the next days]
The subtlety, you see, of the simple truth
is such that I need to use poetic ruse
to build a gilded frame around the door.
I do this in hope you will enter and ask for more!
Those who come only to be entertained,
usually leave as quickly as they came...
The picture and reality are the same
to them, they exclaim, "I saw a wall of paint!"
The fact of the matter is these things I give
come from my very soul -- please believe this!
It is among shattered shadows that I find
the phrases which I carefully align
in artful form -- in hopes that you will find
them pleasing to the ear,
the eye.
and mind.
________________
* That the unknown poet calls these poems "sonnettes" should be taken with a grain of salt -- yet , if you look closely, you will note that there are 14 lines with at least a flavour of iambic pentameter with a rather loose rhyme structure...
The subtlety, you see, of the simple truth
is such that I need to use poetic ruse
to build a gilded frame around the door.
I do this in hope you will enter and ask for more!
Those who come only to be entertained,
usually leave as quickly as they came...
The picture and reality are the same
to them, they exclaim, "I saw a wall of paint!"
The fact of the matter is these things I give
come from my very soul -- please believe this!
It is among shattered shadows that I find
the phrases which I carefully align
in artful form -- in hopes that you will find
them pleasing to the ear,
the eye.
and mind.
________________
* That the unknown poet calls these poems "sonnettes" should be taken with a grain of salt -- yet , if you look closely, you will note that there are 14 lines with at least a flavour of iambic pentameter with a rather loose rhyme structure...
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Didja Know?
Didja know that the Brits had a plan in Farawaystan to flip a major Baliban military commander?
The plan was that the military forces under Mansoor Dadullah's command would support the central government in Qabul -- in return, the Brits would finance schooling for farmers so they could learn how to grow cash crops which aren't usually used to make narcotics.
Actually you did know even though you didn't know it -- what I mean is you only heard the sound bite in the news that a couple of Brits got thrown out of Farawaystan because they were negotiating with the Baliban.
Negotiating with the Baliban is a Bad Thing Because They Are Evil. It is especially bad -- in fact, double bad bad -- if the Unified State of Arrogance has not Approved.
Therefore the two secret agents the Brits had sent -- agents who, between them had 35 years of experience, who spoke the language fluently and were intimately conversant with the customs and tribal politics of the area -- they were "blown", arrested and thrown out of the country.
Not only was the plan flushed which would have brought, if not peace, at least some stability to the area -- the military commander was stripped of his command by Mullah Omar, also known as "Old One Eye".
What happens now is that the Arrogant government will go ahead with its plans to crop dust poison on the poppy fields. This is the sort of campaign which has proven so effective in the War on Drugs that that cocaine is no longer seen on the streets of Arrogant cities and people convicted of nonviolent crimes no longer (over)fill the Arrogant prisons -- if it worked for cocaine, I am sure it will work for opium!
Last year, the Brits cut a similar deal in the same area of the Helmland province and it worked -- until the Arrogant Air Force did a couple of bombing/strafing runs and killed (once again) the wrong people.
Meanwhile, that comedy duo, the Secretaries of State and Defense, Rice and Gates are bad mouthing the Arrogant allies in NATO, because they don't/won't send more troops to get killed in places fugged up by Arrogant policies. The bottom line with all of this, the "Surge" in Wudda-Wreck, Bodybag -- everything the Arrogant government does is done with an eye towards how it will go down politically on the home front in Arrogance...
Didja know, a recent study shows that recent polls show that people support the presence of foreign troops in Farawaystan in areas where clean water and electricity is becoming available -- but when Arrogant planes start their Instant Urban Renewal Projects with the consequent collateral damage, them fickle, illiterate Farawaystanians change their minds?
Now, who would have thought that would happen?
The plan was that the military forces under Mansoor Dadullah's command would support the central government in Qabul -- in return, the Brits would finance schooling for farmers so they could learn how to grow cash crops which aren't usually used to make narcotics.
Actually you did know even though you didn't know it -- what I mean is you only heard the sound bite in the news that a couple of Brits got thrown out of Farawaystan because they were negotiating with the Baliban.
Negotiating with the Baliban is a Bad Thing Because They Are Evil. It is especially bad -- in fact, double bad bad -- if the Unified State of Arrogance has not Approved.
Therefore the two secret agents the Brits had sent -- agents who, between them had 35 years of experience, who spoke the language fluently and were intimately conversant with the customs and tribal politics of the area -- they were "blown", arrested and thrown out of the country.
Not only was the plan flushed which would have brought, if not peace, at least some stability to the area -- the military commander was stripped of his command by Mullah Omar, also known as "Old One Eye".
What happens now is that the Arrogant government will go ahead with its plans to crop dust poison on the poppy fields. This is the sort of campaign which has proven so effective in the War on Drugs that that cocaine is no longer seen on the streets of Arrogant cities and people convicted of nonviolent crimes no longer (over)fill the Arrogant prisons -- if it worked for cocaine, I am sure it will work for opium!
Last year, the Brits cut a similar deal in the same area of the Helmland province and it worked -- until the Arrogant Air Force did a couple of bombing/strafing runs and killed (once again) the wrong people.
Meanwhile, that comedy duo, the Secretaries of State and Defense, Rice and Gates are bad mouthing the Arrogant allies in NATO, because they don't/won't send more troops to get killed in places fugged up by Arrogant policies. The bottom line with all of this, the "Surge" in Wudda-Wreck, Bodybag -- everything the Arrogant government does is done with an eye towards how it will go down politically on the home front in Arrogance...
Didja know, a recent study shows that recent polls show that people support the presence of foreign troops in Farawaystan in areas where clean water and electricity is becoming available -- but when Arrogant planes start their Instant Urban Renewal Projects with the consequent collateral damage, them fickle, illiterate Farawaystanians change their minds?
Now, who would have thought that would happen?
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
A Modest Proposal on How to Save Gasoline...
I received in my email a despicable little screed attributed to the comedian George Carlin which, in fact, has nothing to do with Mr. Carlin. According to Snopes, it has been circulating on the internet since at least August 2006.
The screed proposes to somehow "Save gasoline" by deporting 11 million "illegal" immigrants and bringing the troops home from Iraq to "guard the border". Anybody caught trying to sneak over "the border" will be given a weapon and sent to Iraq after signing a pledge of patriotism and a promise to pay taxes -- if they won't sign the pledge, they get sent to Iraq anyway, but without a gun.
First of all, undocumented immigrants contribute more to the American economy than they take out -- not only do they pay into the public coffers, but they enjoy few benefits.
There is a hate campaign spreading in the US which comes from right wing extremist groups and outright fascist elements. This campaign is basically racist but it has been embraced, supported and, most important, legitimized by mainstream right wing political actors, pundits and think tanks.
Why? Because it sets those near the bottom of the economic ladder against those who are on a lower rung, maybe not even on the on the ladder. This is a repeat of what happened in the latter part of the 19th century the whites against the blacks and certain immigrant groups from Europe. Fascism was born in America -- it is the dark side of our otherwise magnificent heritage.
On the other hand, this screed is ridiculous!
How do we save gasoline, by deporting people or sending them half way around the world to Iraq? With my meager talents for snark and dark satire I fancy I could do better. So, here is my:
"Modest Proposal"
A savings on gasoline would be peanuts compared to what we could cash in on with a really serious solution to the problem with undocumented immigrants:
Why waste fuel shipping "illegal" immigrants all over the world?
Why not put them in camps surrounded by razor wire and armed guards with mean dogs?
True, this would entail a certain investment up front -- but I'm sure that Halliburton would be quite willing to accept yet another no-bid contract to build a few more detention facilities. Heck, we'd only need to extend the ones they already building with a capacity for 450,000 "detainees" in the event of some unnamed "national emergency.
This could be so cool!
We could make them wear funny striped black and white or bright orange clothes so they couldn't run away very far if they escaped their "relocation centers". Then, we could farm them out to do the same work they are doing today -- but without pay!
During the day they could continue to pick farm produce, be sent to clean rooms in motels and hotels and do nanny and cleaning work in private homes. Even better, they could continue to work in sweat shops assembling toy parts, putting a few stitches on garments made overseas and then paste a label on them "Made in the USA".
Since you don't need to pay people in camps any wages except enough food to keep them going until they collapse from exhaustion, this could be so cost effective we could maybe become competitive with the Chinese and bring some of them jobs back that disappeared overseas!
Heck, why stop with immigrants? There are all sorts, homeless veterans would surely benefit from some honest work, a bed to sleep on and a square meal a day! People who talk against the government would benefit also -- gathered in one place, they would have some body to talk to who agreed with their crazy ideas. There are enormous possibilities here!
[If you have a barf bag ready and are so inclined, you can read the screed that sent me off on this rant]
George Carlin's Solution to Save Gasoline
Bush wants us to cut the amount of gas we use.....
The best way to stop using so much gas is to deport 11 million illegal immigrants!
That would be 11 million less people using our gas. The price of gas would come down.....
Bring our troops home from Iraq to guard the Border....
When they catch an illegal immigrant crossing the border, hand him a canteen, rifle and some ammo and ship him to Iraq ...
Tell him if he wants to come to America then he must serve a tour in the military....
Give him a soldier's pay while he's there and tax him on it.....
After his tour, he will be allowed to become a citizen since he defended this country.....
He will also be registered to be taxed and be a legal patriot..... .
This option will probably deter illegal immigration and provide a solution for the troops in Iraq and the aliens trying to make a better life for themselves.. ....
If they refuse to serve, ship them to Iraq anyway, without the canteen, rifle or ammo.....
Problem solved.....
If you think this is a good solution to both the problems, forward it to your friends. ...........
I just did.........
The screed proposes to somehow "Save gasoline" by deporting 11 million "illegal" immigrants and bringing the troops home from Iraq to "guard the border". Anybody caught trying to sneak over "the border" will be given a weapon and sent to Iraq after signing a pledge of patriotism and a promise to pay taxes -- if they won't sign the pledge, they get sent to Iraq anyway, but without a gun.
First of all, undocumented immigrants contribute more to the American economy than they take out -- not only do they pay into the public coffers, but they enjoy few benefits.
There is a hate campaign spreading in the US which comes from right wing extremist groups and outright fascist elements. This campaign is basically racist but it has been embraced, supported and, most important, legitimized by mainstream right wing political actors, pundits and think tanks.
Why? Because it sets those near the bottom of the economic ladder against those who are on a lower rung, maybe not even on the on the ladder. This is a repeat of what happened in the latter part of the 19th century the whites against the blacks and certain immigrant groups from Europe. Fascism was born in America -- it is the dark side of our otherwise magnificent heritage.
On the other hand, this screed is ridiculous!
How do we save gasoline, by deporting people or sending them half way around the world to Iraq? With my meager talents for snark and dark satire I fancy I could do better. So, here is my:
"Modest Proposal"
A savings on gasoline would be peanuts compared to what we could cash in on with a really serious solution to the problem with undocumented immigrants:
Why waste fuel shipping "illegal" immigrants all over the world?
Why not put them in camps surrounded by razor wire and armed guards with mean dogs?
True, this would entail a certain investment up front -- but I'm sure that Halliburton would be quite willing to accept yet another no-bid contract to build a few more detention facilities. Heck, we'd only need to extend the ones they already building with a capacity for 450,000 "detainees" in the event of some unnamed "national emergency.
This could be so cool!
We could make them wear funny striped black and white or bright orange clothes so they couldn't run away very far if they escaped their "relocation centers". Then, we could farm them out to do the same work they are doing today -- but without pay!
During the day they could continue to pick farm produce, be sent to clean rooms in motels and hotels and do nanny and cleaning work in private homes. Even better, they could continue to work in sweat shops assembling toy parts, putting a few stitches on garments made overseas and then paste a label on them "Made in the USA".
Since you don't need to pay people in camps any wages except enough food to keep them going until they collapse from exhaustion, this could be so cost effective we could maybe become competitive with the Chinese and bring some of them jobs back that disappeared overseas!
Heck, why stop with immigrants? There are all sorts, homeless veterans would surely benefit from some honest work, a bed to sleep on and a square meal a day! People who talk against the government would benefit also -- gathered in one place, they would have some body to talk to who agreed with their crazy ideas. There are enormous possibilities here!
[If you have a barf bag ready and are so inclined, you can read the screed that sent me off on this rant]
George Carlin's Solution to Save Gasoline
Bush wants us to cut the amount of gas we use.....
The best way to stop using so much gas is to deport 11 million illegal immigrants!
That would be 11 million less people using our gas. The price of gas would come down.....
Bring our troops home from Iraq to guard the Border....
When they catch an illegal immigrant crossing the border, hand him a canteen, rifle and some ammo and ship him to Iraq ...
Tell him if he wants to come to America then he must serve a tour in the military....
Give him a soldier's pay while he's there and tax him on it.....
After his tour, he will be allowed to become a citizen since he defended this country.....
He will also be registered to be taxed and be a legal patriot..... .
This option will probably deter illegal immigration and provide a solution for the troops in Iraq and the aliens trying to make a better life for themselves.. ....
If they refuse to serve, ship them to Iraq anyway, without the canteen, rifle or ammo.....
Problem solved.....
If you think this is a good solution to both the problems, forward it to your friends. ...........
I just did.........
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Help, I Found a Prophet in My Kitchen Sink!
[I uncovered this odd little poem in the 2nd level footnotes to the Absolute Truth -- it would seem to also be the work of that odd fellow, the unknown poet of the Third Galaxy -- in any case it would must have been composed before Monstrous Monday and the actual beginning of the Terrible times]
I have begun to think that my kitchen sink
is trying to send messages to me!
Perhaps you laugh and say I've crossed the brink
which separates us all from sanity?
Please let me try to explain the anguished pain
which I hear in the sounds from my kitchen drain:
I hear the gurgle of words in an ancient tongue
growling from within the bowels of the Earth!
Words which were spoken when the Earth was young,
"Hail mother Earth, blessed is the fruit of your womb!"
But that was long ago and, for what it's worth,
That holy blessing has turned into a curse!
It really doesn't take a prophet to know
some real shit is coming down the tube!
The blind can see the gathering of storm clouds
and the deaf can hear the war drums beating now...
Myself, I guess I'm much too sensitive --
I barf when people ask what the question is...
There are those who say it was all Inevitable,
that God's Plans and Ways are Inscrutable...
But if there's no meaning in human life itself,
then there's no meaning at all and all is hell!
I have begun to think that my kitchen sink
is trying to send messages to me!
Perhaps you laugh and say I've crossed the brink
which separates us all from sanity?
Please let me try to explain the anguished pain
which I hear in the sounds from my kitchen drain:
I hear the gurgle of words in an ancient tongue
growling from within the bowels of the Earth!
Words which were spoken when the Earth was young,
"Hail mother Earth, blessed is the fruit of your womb!"
But that was long ago and, for what it's worth,
That holy blessing has turned into a curse!
It really doesn't take a prophet to know
some real shit is coming down the tube!
The blind can see the gathering of storm clouds
and the deaf can hear the war drums beating now...
Myself, I guess I'm much too sensitive --
I barf when people ask what the question is...
There are those who say it was all Inevitable,
that God's Plans and Ways are Inscrutable...
But if there's no meaning in human life itself,
then there's no meaning at all and all is hell!
Friday, February 01, 2008
As We Wait for Super Tuesday...
Edwards (and Kucinich) brought something rare to the selection process -- a certain amount of honesty. So in a backass way it's kind of cool they drop out now -- honesty and cogent attention to the important issues is simply too confusing.
Have you ever considered that something like 2% of the population with the help of the media, big monied interests and eminences in the two parties determine who we get to choose between for the position of Prez, the person who will be invested more power than ten times ten caesars? That we have had a campaign going on this long and we still have four candidates although the two of them seem to be more annointed than the others -- that is shocking, I tell you, shocking!
Because otherwise it is quite understandable why the Codpiece has been so hip on "spreading democracy and freedom".
Very much on the other hand -- it is wonderful to note that the number of people voting in these primaries, especially the young, has been, by American standards, quite large. I recall the Leonard Cohen line, "Democracy is coming...it's coming to America first, the home of the best and the worst..."
Ah, maybe this Super Tuesday will turn everything on its head -- yeah, I know, fat chance of that, but I can dream, can’t I?
Have you ever considered that something like 2% of the population with the help of the media, big monied interests and eminences in the two parties determine who we get to choose between for the position of Prez, the person who will be invested more power than ten times ten caesars? That we have had a campaign going on this long and we still have four candidates although the two of them seem to be more annointed than the others -- that is shocking, I tell you, shocking!
Because otherwise it is quite understandable why the Codpiece has been so hip on "spreading democracy and freedom".
Very much on the other hand -- it is wonderful to note that the number of people voting in these primaries, especially the young, has been, by American standards, quite large. I recall the Leonard Cohen line, "Democracy is coming...it's coming to America first, the home of the best and the worst..."
Ah, maybe this Super Tuesday will turn everything on its head -- yeah, I know, fat chance of that, but I can dream, can’t I?
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