Sunday, May 07, 2006

Whys

Why Would...
I was reading some newspapers I linked to from BuzzFlash this morning, snidely and cynically, of course, not my usual Sunday morning fare, though Sunday is the traditional day even idiots read newspapers, the working-class types reading the sports pages, horoscopes, lottery results, murder and mayhem stories, and the celebrity shennanigan reports in the tabloids (the truth according to Rupert Murdoch-types of schlockheads), while the white white-collar sophisticated classes (the bourgeosie) are reading the same schlocky news except within the cultured tonnage of the supercumbersome Sunday New York Times and its "exclusive" reporting in the ever-so-vaunted New York Times style, the style of Max Frankl (remember his worthless ass when he was a teevee talking head?), and the reporting excellence of journalists like Judith Miller, and the implanted biases of the Schlockburgers, the Times's closed-family publishers.

"The Sunday Times" is a big cultural event in the upper-west-eastside-eschelons of New York City on Sunday mornings, over that $10-a-pound global marketplace coffee or phony-exalted pots of green tea. These readers are the aging Yuppies and coming on dumb Baby Boomers and fading-into-reality Gen X'ers and they run out on Saturday nights and cop a Times early, subconsciously feeling they are getting a jump on the rest of the city dumbasses, when the first editions are delivered in batches Saturday evenings around 9 pm. The others wait for its bulk to slam against the condo door early Sunday mornings or for it to be waiting for the pretenders on that special table down in the lobby of their fifty-story luxury high-rises that they are paying half their paychecks a month to live in. Even those comfort-demanding oversleepers know which Middle Eastern-operated newstand puts the Times out early and half-ass together--the Sunday New York Times is still delivered in sections to the newstands, where a newstand dude puts them to together, according to how he's feeling that early in the morning, i.e., he might leave the Real Estate section out of one or two papers; you won't know it until you get home and start wanting to look for that overpriced dream (dreams are turning to nightmares) house in north Tarrytown or Tuxedo Junction.

If I read the Times at all, and I haven't read one in at least 2 years, it would be online--except I now understand they make you go through a lot of filters and passwords to read it online (that pisses me off, so I pass it by for www.buzzflash.com which is simply a page of links to what they call "the progressive" articles and columns, some of which are in the Times, they love Krugman for sure, but most from magazines, columns, and newspapers (like the Guardian) that appeal to what their readers want, "a preaching to the choir" usually, except now BF does have some hip bloggers they are linking and they occasionally have their own commentators who are, though not as sappily sophisticated ("pretentious"-- is that the word I'm looking for?) as those in the Times, at least they are slanted to my point of view, and if I don't think they are slanted enough, I can email them either a vilifying or a high-falutin' comment, something you can't do to the Times columnists without, I hear, I don't know, paying a fee. Am I wrong about that? I hate to slander the Times, Jehovah's favorite newspaper, but not our "president's," who has a good excuse, he never learned to read.

When I do read the rags including the Times I am mostly wondering while reading why a lot of "Whys" about stories go unanswered. In the rudiments of journalism, I was taught that an article or report should tell you the where, what, when, how, and WHY of a story. I'm looking for some "Whys" I never see.

Why, for instance:
--would any parents send their 14-year-old son to a "boot camp" in a Florida swamp where a bunch of predator, perverted, sexually twisted, phony army-types put young people into extremely adult-abuse situations? These brutish boot-camp shitkickers are simply brutal cops doing the only thing they think that works on criminals (which these poor dumb kids are to these types) like teasing them with teevee-type toughness interviews, then enforcing your teasing commands by beating the shit out of them, girls and boys alike. That's a part of their special boot-camp "training," you know, a little "boot camp torture," especially the kind much approved and saluted by the US Marine Corps, that Semper fi gang of low-esteemed, no-ego, high libido-ed young goofballs scared like silly chickens with no heads when pressured into joining this military establishment built on a lot of phony-heroic bullshit. The gyrenes haven't had a successful campaign since the Halls of Moctezuma and the Shores of Tripoli they sing about in their special hymn, and if you check deep enough into those jokey battles, you come out shaking your head thinking, "They call that a great victory?" Besides, the Marines (jarheads) weren't successful at all in the win column in the VietNam War, nor are they now in the Afghan and Iraqi wars. Besides, the most decorated soldiers in WWI and WWII weren't Marines. In VietNam it's hard to tell since Lyndon "Pain in the Ass" Johnson gave out more medals including Medals of Honor than any other president in history--in another phony, trumped-up, but very real war, the Bay-of-Tonkin excuse for war a total farce, just like those "we'puns of mass destruction," the numbnuts "president" and his greed-driven spin jockeys used to justify the totally failing wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and I don't think you can mention one without the other these days.

Another "WHY" pops to mind, like WHY did Georgie Porgie (our "president") sit on his bony ass for 102 minutes reading My Pet Goat to some of his sixth-grader peers while the WTC was under attack?--"Ah, Mr. 'president,' er-ah, sir, a plane full of Bandar Bush's best idiots just hit one of the World Trade Center towers in New York City, sir, Mister 'president.'" "Lemme finish this goat story for these little wooly boogers here." "Sir, Mr. 'president,' sir, another plane full of Bandar's buddies just hit the other World Trade Center tower, sir, er-ah, I hate to be picky, but isn't that a little more important than reading that goat book to these bored little bastards here? Shouldn't we bust a move and go after some of these other planes they are reporting taking off from Boston loaded with fresh fuel?" "We have a sayin' in Tennessee, Scotty, or at least I know we have it in Texas, move me once and move me twice but eventually I'm not gonna move; moving's for backers-outers and I'm a decider not a backer outer."

Now the mother of this 14-year-old who the lyin' m-f-ing phony-soldier cops choked to death it turns out, is suing the boot camp and its cadre. First, you see, the boot camp coroner said, "Oh, you see, this little darky had Sickle Cell anathema--it's pretty common in darkies-- so, ya see, that's what killed this little snit would-be murderer, not our phony soldiers--why, folks, the 'president's' own brother, the goobernor of Florida, set up these boot camps based on the highest of Christian principles. Why none other than Billy Graham, a God-blessed man if there ever was one, sent his worthless, piece-of-crap, 55-year-old playboy son here to teach him a little secular discipline to go with his pappy's spiritual gung-ho approach. It worked, look at what a fine man Franklin Graham is today." Yaaaa-HOOOO. Then along comes a real doctor who confirms it was the playboy-toy-solider-cops who killed the kid, by sitting on his chest and holding their hands over his mouth, thus choking him to death, books closed."

--the next WHY? concerns why these boot camp bullies won't serve one ounce of time for killing this kid? "They was jest followin' orders, sir."

--Why--are the New York Mets getting beat by the Atlanta Braves, 13-1?

--Why does anyone believe anything Georgie Porgie, our "president" says in his tinhorn speeches? That, of course, is a rhetorical question.

--Why hasn't this jerk Chalabi served any prison time? What a piece of sorry crap he is. Just the kind of buddy old Georgie Porgie will commemorate with one of his stock "You're doin' a heck of a job ___________________" (fill in a name in the current administration).

--Why doesn't Oren Hatch fall into an open hatch on his yacht? What, you don't think this Mormon nut has a yacht? Wanna bet?

--Why is Hillary Clinton being considered for president? Before she was a Senator, she was simply a president's wife. Did old Slick Willie teach her that much? You know the big question bouncing about in my mind? Did old Bill teach Hillary how to give head in the Oval Office? Does she like cigars? Are they phallic symbols to her? Shouldn't we ask these toadies some deep questions? Like to Hillary, "Were you bonking Vince Foster?" Or, "Who do you think had your boyfriend killed, Mrs. Clinton?" Excuse the rather right-wing a-la-oxycodone-head Rush (yeah, I'll bet he's got a rush going; you would, too, after popping a handful of Oxycontin) Limpballs approach.

--Why are humans hell-bent-for-leather determined to destroy themselves? Do I have to reread Freud's letter to Einstein about war?
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The Daily Growler Quote of the Day
"So long as we love life for itself, we seldom dread losing it. When we desire life for the attainment of an object, we recognize the frailty of its texture." Nathaniel Hawthorne, "The Artist of the Beautiful," from the Hawthorne Reader, Peguin Books.
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