It's Early in the Morning

5:15 AM
New York City is really cool around 4 to 6 in the early morning; it's not quite quiet any longer, the hum is surging, truck noises are beginning to wail above the little standard hum of just plain ole automobiles--and then there are sudden lulls that leave you hanging in an emptiness until the next truck splats in from out of the peripheral and soon splatting is the standard and the hum evolves into a roar that becomes louder and louder beginning about 6:15.

I'm up early simply because I just wanted to get up early--sweet and simple.

I had earlier been up and been very amused by a PBS television offering I had never seen before. I didn't watch most of it; I watched enough to catch the drift of this guy's thinking.

This guy was a gray-headed, bulky, sort of Euro-Eastern-Slav-looking with accent to match. I paid no attention to this dude when I first start watching him, he was walking around Moscow--walking around until he comes to this vast broad bricked looking broadway of a thoroughfare--it's the old parade route that passes by Lenin's tomb on whose top the Soviet Union leaders used to stand while the Red Army paraded out its weapons of mass destruction afore the frozen and vodka-ed up populace, always with tank after tank after tank, and then the goose-stepping Red Army, followed in the end by the huge missile-launching machines--a paper army really, though at the end of WWII we saw the Soviets as a threat greater than Hitler to the Repugnican idiots who took over Congress after the Dixiecrats led by hateful old racist pig bastard J. Strom Thurmond (all the while raising his "pickaninny" family out in the chicken coops behind his old palatial plantation manor down in good ole Confederate flag-waving South Carolina, always known as one of our more deprogressive states) stormed out of the Dumbocrat convention of 1948 and took his racist mob with him into the Repugnican Party. This was the beginning of the Ike for President slogan "Dem-IKE-crats for Eisenhower." The result was that the Dumbos won the '48 election; that was the squeaker of a victory garnered that year by Hairy Ass Truman, the election where the morning after his win, Hairy Ass is holding up the Chicago morning newspaper that's declaring Moustache Dewey the winner. Tom Dewey, the governor of New York, was a cop-type, tough D.A.-type, who thought he would sweep to victory based on his "phony" actions against the Mafia in NY State--actions against the Mafia in New York State are always bullshit actions--no New York State politician has ever shut down the Mafia--they're still creepily all around us here in NYC. Rudi Guiliana, thank Zeus he's now Amurica's mayor and not New York City's mayor, made his political rep with a phony record of successfully fighting the Mafia through RICO actions while he was a Federal prosecutor. The Mafia was an organization Rudi and his contemporaries were certainly familiar with growing up as they did in Little Italy Brooklyn, controlled as it was in those days by the goombah syndicate of Mafia dons and goons that still rule a lot of the Italian areas in this city, though they are more sophisticated in their underworld actions in these modern times, posing as legitimate building contractors (a Mafia construction company is currently building the new billion-dollar Yankee Stadium), pizza parlor chains, hotel service organizations, beer and whiskey distributorships, etc.

Back to my original point, believe it or not: so anyway, here's the older dude with a thick accent walking across this big brick broadway in Moscow and he says, "Here is where the Soviet leader Breshnev used to pompously peacock about on the roof of Lenin's tomb...." Most of that quote is me; this old dude wasn't a poetic as I am. Anyway, all was very well until this old fool suddenly blurted out, "If it hadn't have been for the determined attitude of Ronald Reagan there would still be a Soviet Union today." Whaaaa! Then they showed a clip of old Raygun himself saying, "Mister Gore-bah-shelf, tear down this wall!" Way to go, Ronnie Raygun; tough M-f-er! Dyed hair, senile, man totally out of his skull--he had Alzheimer's his last two years in office when Nancy Raygun and Psychic Phony Jeanne Dixon (her big PR boast was that she predicted the Kennedy Assassination) actually ran the government. Raygun the president who boldly communicated to us that soon we'd be flying to Tokyo in 3 hours.

The whole point of this accented Euro-Eastern-looking Raygun administration aide was that the US uses force and threat to stop human massacre. Whaaa! Did you get that? We use massive force--like dropping two nuclear bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki--to stop massacres from occurring.

I was hooked. Next this pompous old toddling man shows up in Sarajevo, a city the Serbs had pretty much, along with the help of old General-of-the-asshole-army Wesley Clark and his bomb 'em back to the Stone Age attitude of war, wiped out Sarajevo. Wait a minute! Not according to this dude. Listen to this. By leveling Sarajevo, we prevented a massacre of Sarjevoans. Whaaa! I'm lost now.

This dude's whole point ended up being: we are doing the right thing in Afghanistan and Iraq. By destroying the infrastructure of these countries, we are actually saving them from self-massacre. By killing radical Islamics, we are saving millions of Middle Easterners from perhaps a holocaust!

I turned the fool off then.

This guy says that this is America's role in the world--it's a variation of the World Policeman theory first thought up by that aristocratic patriot John Foster Dulles when he was Secretary of State under good ole constant golf-playing Dwight David Eisenhower--this old general fool built a golf course on the lawn of the White House at no telling how many millions of dollars of cost to We the People. As World Policeman, according to JF Dull-Ass, it's the same as Teddy Roosevelt's carrying a big stick stunt at the turn of the 20th Century--every century turn this kind of thing happens--the US has to throw its impregnable might into civil conflicts all around the world and settle them either by wiping out their present existence with armed force or else forcing these factions to either kiss American ass or be annihilated. [Wasn't that the jest of Hitler's Final Solution theory?]

Yes, folks, it's true; I was there; after WWII, John Foster Dulles badged us all as World Policemen. The US Army became the cop on the world beat. This current "War on Terrerism" is simply another version of this World Policeman attitude. It's ingrained in the old fogies who even now rule us, the old white plantation massuhs. Bush's father, an old plantation massuh, Pappy of us all, was there; I'm sure he was asshole buddies with the Dulles Brothers (brother Allen (the D.C. airport used to be named after him), remember, started the CIA, the spying branch of the US World Police Department). [I'm curious, why do we name things after presidents?--and why not all presidents? Like is there a Warren G. Harding High School somewhere; there must be. There must be a Richard M. Nixon grade school somewhere. Can you imagine that? How 'bout a Spiro Agnew High School? I like it. How 'bout Bob Dole High? Go Hokies!]

Worst day of deaths yesterday in Baghdad since Bush's amazing surge tactics started up a few weeks ago--a lot of GIs (we don't call them that anymore, do we--you know what GI means? It literally means "government issued" and in WWII the soldiers started calling themselves that since everything they had was "government issued") have had to die, some of them only just arriving to meet death their first days in Iraq under Bush's new increased presence there in that Gawd-awful place we've created out of our lyin', cheatin', and imperialistic greed to control all the energies of the world.

Have you noticed how totally ineffectual the Dumbocrats are to stop this chicken-hawk fool and his police-like tactics against the world and against WE the People, too; we're all criminals and terrerists according to these idiots who are leading us over a brink; this phony president has made us all now double victims of terrorism and now victims of a new arising Al Queda movement--terrorism is worse today than ever before in the history of the world; all because a bunch of Bush's Saudi buddies decided to bring down the World Trade Center. Say that again--their object was to bring down the World Trade Center, which they did. [Osama bin Laden's whole fight is against the Royal Family in Saudi Arabia [have you ever heard that a lot of the people who died in the 9/11 invasion were Arab?], the same good folks who kicked his ass out of Saudi Arabia though they didn't cut his funds off--he still gets his cut of the Saudi Arabian Royal Family payouts--hiding out as he is in Peshawar, Pakistan. The Saudi Royal Family knows precisely where its Royal son, Osama, is--where do they send his checks?]

Might makes right. I think that's what young sociopath Cho, the Virginia Tech shooter, learned by coming to this country to be a writer of all things! He could barely talk his speech was so bloated--like his throat was fat--nor did he seem to me to be all that bright. Did I hear a teevee talking head saying this guy was a genius? No way, Jose. He's a young sociopath; they usually commit suicide, but in a lot of cases when they commit suicide they wanna take some fellow humans with them, like professors (people of authority) and students (better off than Cho and his family), especially the young women students who stand for rejection to sociopaths--rejection of sex; rejection of love; mother rejection--to hell with them all, he finally concludes, I'm leaving this world and I'm taking some of these spoiled brat hypocrites with me and I'm washing my hands of it by blaming them for it--that's called "projecting," folks, and we all do it, not just Cho.

As a quick aside, I want to remember that Texas serial killer of 10 or 20 years back, Henry, was that his name?--that truly trailer-house dumbass idiot--Brown?, was that his name?, supposedly he killed nearly 300 young women in his serial killer career--give or take 10 or so because these guys are natural-born liars like most successful people [come on, the newspapers and teevees are telling me Cho was a very successful school-massacre pro--I mean look how fast he rose in the standings, from out of nowhere to outshoot the Luby Cafeteria massacre-er and move straight into 3rd place behind Janet Reno and all-time leader Timothy McVeigh, a good soldier].

Since America is a living lie--we are a country of liars. We made our bed; now we're LYING in it.

Where's my Glock? I think I see a Planned Parenthood condom distributor in front of my house. Kill or be killed. Unless you are an unborn fetus and then you're life is protected by the Supremely Stupid Supremely Biased Supreme Court. which will eventually shoot down the abortion amendment mark my words--it will happen before the Boy Wonder leaves office. He'll sign an abortion ban in the midnight hour, when he pardons Scooter Libby and Jackoff Jack-Abram-off and Kenny Boy Lay (dead or alive)--plus this poor little spoiled brat rich boy will pardon himself, Amen and Selah--and the Dumbocrats won't raise a hand to stop him they are so afraid of the ground they stand on, even though the American voters told them they had permission to IMPEACH this whole administration--still they do nothing and still they say nothing--COWARDS--"Stand up, stand up for your rights!!!!"--but, oh no. Vested interests, my friends, make all politicians and CEOs and cops and military goons blood brothers, arm-in-arm in these war deceits that are feathering the nests of the richest people in the world--Exxon Mobil is booming; Wal-Mart is booming; the stock market is booming! Look at the stock market. It's going hogwild. It's at 12,800 and, yes, folks, it will top 13,000 and then get ready for some heavy, heavy bullshit. You are a fool if you don't invest in this stock market--it's a war market; war markets always make the rich richer. The rich have started most all wars in the history of the world--did you ever think about that?

Hey, let's all get rich.

7:50 AM
The moon that floats over my constantly constant head constantly is pregnant with FULLNESS this morning--holy cow, I came across this old man who'd been in the Ronnie Raygun administration saying the US concept of "military" invasion to destroy in order to rebuild anew in the American way, though it looks like it doesn't work--like it isn't working in either Iraq or Afghanistan now--it does work--and he gives examples of Raygun standing mightily and macho (Rambo) firm against the Soviet Union, by threatening them with annihilation if they didn't back down and cower in defeat at the feet of the Mighty American Police Force and Police Chief Ronnie Raygun, the imposer of American Edict on the sinners of the world--"Mister Gore-butt-shelf, tear down this wall." "Ich bin Berliner." And yes both JFK and Ronnie Raygun were doughnuts. Yahoos. Yahoos all. Yes, we had to destroy Sarajevo in order to make it better--cause you see this old fool while walking the streets of today's Sarajevo says, "Well, yes, this old city was pretty much leveled by the Serbs and the US, but, hey, look now; it's coming back really fast, and it's coming back better--so you see what I mean? Search and destroy really does work! You have to destroy the enemy on his own ground in order to keep him from confronting you on your own ground. And, yes, I think I've been saying, that's the American white male instincts as a collective legend whose motto is "Kill or be killed" in today's modern world. It is better to massively massacre a whole enemy force, i.e., Al Queda; the Taliban; the Shi'ites; the Sunnis; Hamas; the Palestinians than to concede to a diplomatic way of talking out disagreements in either politics or religion (to our government Palestine is still under the control of Arafat's ghost and his PLO ghost organization--they won't let nature take its course over there, just like we try to change the course of rivers here at home. That's what America is collectively--WE'RE REENGINEERS! My Quantitative Physics genius friend was right, computers give us the power of constant changing of the subject--via reengineering--the father of all the concepts of Quantitative Management--"quantity over quality"--its the quantity of your production and not the quality of it that generates more and more profits. Dig it? It's going on all around me here in NYC as I type this with all this construction of these massive 55-story hastily built skyripping monsters, eight new ones going on just in the vicinity of my room windows--that's quantitative production over quality of production, which also includes quality of life. In my dad's time, an automobile was expected to last you 10 years at least. I swear, that's how my dad felt and why he drove a 1938 Oldsmobile sedan until 1948 when he finally junked that worthless Olds (he'd driven it into the ground, as he like to say about that car--"Best damn car ever made by General Motors. It was a car that expected you to drive it into the ground. I drove that Olds till it couldn't move another inch; then I junked it and bought that good-looking Nash Custom over there").

My dad intended to drive that 1948 Nash Custom, too, until it was driven into the ground, but I changed that tradition the night I rolled that Nash 5 times down one of the main streets of my hometown, totally destroying that car and a row of parking meters the god-damn judge in the case against me, my girlfriend's uncle, to boot, a guy who knew my ass to the point he'd played golf with me a lot and had bullshitted with me and my brother and he knew my parents from high school and yet in court he acted like he'd never seen me before in his life and that I was a piece of crap kid and that I deserved the book but instead he said he was going to be lenient and only make me pay for the parking meters I'd destroyed plus pay back the estimated total of the amount of pennies I had dispersed by the thousands all over the street and in the kerb gutters and all over the sidewalk, even pennies in a dude's front yard, the same front yard where that Nash Custom ended belly up with the radio still blaring, the wheels still spinning, and the headlights akimboly beaming straight up toward the heavens (it was a rainy night and I was with two of my friends and we'd just come from our high school basketball game and we had won the basketball game and we three boys had done some very successful beaver shooting during the game--especially that of a dream girl named Gail whose beaver I shot thrice that night--after I declared myself beaver-hunting champion, we headed out to the nightspots, mainly the Dixie Pig Drive In; so you see, we were feeling our young oats when I suddenly decided to show the boys what this Nash Custom could do. Those Nashes had what was called a "mountain gear" in them. The way it worked was, say you were driving up Pike's Peak and the car was running heavy up a steep grade--what you do then is press the gas pedal down flat against the metal and at the same time this mountain gear would kick in and the car appreciably shot forward and came to terms with the mountain grade thus the origin of the name of the gear-- and, by the bye, as an added boast, I have actually driven up Pike's Peak, with my dad driving that very same Nash, with my mother, my aunt, and my grandmother all squealing in unison to high heaven that my fool dad was gonna kill us all by driving off into the mid-air of the destruction as we flew off the vaulted edge of Pike's Peak in that beautiful two-tone gray Nash Custom.

I loved it. Once he stopped the car right on a "very" edge of the road that hung over a vast valley thousands of feet below where a tiny blue lake lay glowing radiantly in the brilliant high mountain sunlight while all the while the "girls" continued hyperventilating with fear of height and my dad's fool driving, and my dad and I stepped boldly out onto a jutting rock and he held me around the waist while I leaned out and shot some photos with a Kodak Brownie camera that had been in our family since it was new in 1938.

Most of our over-production these days is done in Asia. The US doesn't produce much anymore except service-oriented and info-gathering jobs. You make more money in NYC being a chauffeur than a teacher. You make more being being a sanitation worker (read: garbageman) than you do being an artist, or a writer, or a musician. We are being forced to be consumers. Without consumers for these products there are no profits at all! By the time the US consumers go broke--and it's gettin' close, the Chinese will take our place as consumers. That'll open up jobs over here, but they'll be very low-paying sweatshop jobs [remember, one of the tenets of Neo-Con economics is to drive down wages--cheap labor being their main goal--never forget that!!]--the jobs that are currently creating the consumer middle class in Commie China; with an overflowing treasury now that it has dabbled in Capitalism for a few successful years.

We Amuricans are headed for another bout with slavery. The rich need slaves to rebuild their empires or to keep their empires fluid and operating far over into the infinite black.

It is now late at night.

You know what a dumbass thing I did? I was listening to the NY Yankee vs. Cleveland game on the radio--you know I love to listen to baseball games on the radio because on teevee they show nasal shots and always closeups of the ballplayers spitting--hawking loogies out into the ethereal in front of their nostrils--and going into the bottom of the ninth it was Cleveland leading 6 to 2. The stadium was quiet as hell. The mood was hangdog. Yankee fans all over were disgusted. I mean, come on, it was bottom of the ninth, 6-2 Cleveland, with the bottom of the Yankee order coming up--A-Rod had struck out twice and then grounded out and flown out in 4 trips to the plate. Disgusted, like a lot of Yankee fans, I left the game and went down to my favorite Irish pub for a little supper. I was comfortably seated in front of a truly wonderfully juicy sizzling 16-oz New York sirloin ready to dig in when the restaurant manager came and started BS-ing with me and he said, "How ya doin' today--and how 'bout those Yankees?" "Yankees? Those bastards. Yeah, looks like they're losers this year...." "What are you talking about?" "The Yankees. I gave up on 'em in the bottom of the ninth!" "You shouldn't have," he said. I said, "Whaaa?" "Yeah, you shouldn't have given up." "Wah do ya mean?" "The Yankees won." "You're jivin' me--they were behind 6-2 and Cleveland's closer was on the mound." "They won on a walk-off homerun by A-Rod after tying the game...." Shit. I was enraged. Serves me right. The Yankees won in their normal spectacular fashion--A-Rod, who's the hottest baseball player in the world right now, clobbering a game-winning homerun--what's that 10 homers for him now; 25 RBIs. That's phenomenal, folks, whether you give a shit about baseball or not. But that's phenomenal; and the guy's batting like .400 right now. That's what makes baseball so god-damn great'a game.

thegrowlingwolf
for The Daily Growler