The Daily Growler Moonstruck Growling Maniac Awards
The more I hear about Michael Moore the more I dig him the most. He's certainly turned into a growling maniac--and he was sterling on the Wolf [a blasphemous name in my world] Blitzer CNN Clown Show--barking out his bitches about how Blitzer and the main media had trashed his Farenheit 911 and yet everything he said in that film has come to pass--the lies about the Weapons of Mass Destruction, the lies about Saddam Hussein being in cahoots with al-Queda [I still believe the al-Queda was invented by the CIA--a legendary enemy with no known structure, training area, where they get their money, where they get their massive amounts of weapons (however small they are compared to the mighty US armed forces, those invincible now privatized volunteers and contractors who would do anything for MONEY--and believe me, even those volunteer soldiers are in the Army for the shelter and then rewards it offers them and not because these people so love their country they are dying to be poster persons for use by the Pentagon in recruiting more young male and female fodder for the killing fields in Iraq and Afghanistan. Hey, man, so you get your legs blown off, you can go pick up some brand new state-of-the-art crappy-looking phony legs over at Walter Reed Hospital--of course, there'll be a slight 2 year waiting period...and Moore says he even went to Walter Reed Hospital in Farenheit 911--
And then Moore went off on mainstream's media getting everything wrong about the War in Iraq and not admitting it but continuing to report things as if everything is Jim Dandy and on schedule--or like Joe "the Now Babbling Idiot" Lieberman, we are actually winning in Iraq now--thanks to that great military strategy of the Splurge as thought up by our "Fuhrer," Commander and Spoiled Brat Chief G. W. (for "Guaranteed Wimp") Bush--though this little weasel, rich boy, crybaby when he doesn't get his way, hand-puppet of Unka Dick Chaingang is gonna show us all one day just what a little spoiled brat bastard he can be.
And Moore goes off on Blitzer's network kowtowing to the big pharmaceutical houses and how their pro-Pentagon neurosurgeon WAR DOCTOR, Simian Gupti is a quack, a Pentagon-embedded quack at that, and is sponsored by the big pharma houses and I'll guarantee you, there ain't a doctor anywhere in this world who wouldn't sell his hypocritical oath and his own mother to get a big pharma to make him or her head of a big clinical study--that's where big pharma's big tax-free bucks (their R&D money--our taxed earnings money is being handed out to these multi-billion dollar robber barons for research and devclopment) come pouring into your coffers--and it'll certainly put you on the map in terms of writing it up for the many big medical journals around the world, most of them sponsored by the big pharmas, and that includes the sacred New England Journal of Medicine, too. [Did you notice that the Communist-Capitalist Democratic Republic of China executed its FDA head? He took bribes from the big US pharma houses to experiment with drugs that were banned elsewhere in the world--this dude got executed over MONEY--Hey, comrades, that what you get when you dabble in Capitalism--greed, the rush for immediate big bucks, all the money you can steal while you can still steal. We'd have to execute our FDA heads every day of the week if we considered big pharma political payoffs illegal--we don't.]
Moore knows this...and the dude really did ream old Wolfie Boy Blitzer a new asshole on their put down of Sicko, too, if I may be so crass. He's gonna be reaming ass on old dried-up-piece-of-crap Larry King's Show tonight, too, I think. Larry King's the guy who once told a story on the air how he grew up in Brooklyn with Sandy Koufax and how he and Sandy and the gang used to drive up to Connecticut or somewhere to get ice cream. When asked about the story, Sandy Koufax said, I never met Larry King in my life and don't even like ice cream.
And I once wondered about how sincere Michael Moore was until, like I once said before, I met so many Michiganders and how they all strike me as very bright and very inquisitive people and Michael Moore's from Davison, which is practically in the Flint, Michigan, city limits now but to my Flint friends is kind of a hick place--and Moore admits he's the son of a country doctor from Davison, though now he considers himself of Flint, one of the saddest cities in the country--a city that NAFTA and the WTO ruined when General Motors shut down all its factories in Flint--home of Chevrolet and Buick--the Buick Riviera, one of the great American cars of all time, came out of Flint--a city Moore shows you the truth about in his 1989 movie Roger and Me.
So a tribute to Michael Moore, a The Daily Growler Moonstruck Growling Maniac deluxe.
Mexico and Argentina are taking the field in the game of the North and South American soccer competition--in the semifinals of the Cup of the Americas. Soccer at its best; Argentina, the whole Lion of the Pampas, vs. Upstart Mexico.
I'm off to watch the soccer match. (pobrecito Mexico! hay caramba!) The tangoers beat them.
I mentioned the "gut feeling" al-Queda attack threat in the headline up there but the story behind that head was so asinine and so rebukable and jokey a threat, made by our Homeland Security doddering old martini-drinking corporate executive Michael Jackoff--going out to Chicago and try and scare the hell out of those midlander bozos--and, oh, by the bye, during his dunce speech, he said he had a gut feeling we should be wary of an impending al-Queda attack against the US of A (read "New York City").
Jesus, wouldn't you hope by now these jerk-offs would be confident they could stop another wild-chance, luck-attack, like 9/11 was, pulled off by those Saudi-Arabian drunk-the-night-before, boxcutter-toting members of this so-called mighty terrorist force out there in the world somewhere the CIA calls al-Queda, which in Arabic is kind of a nonsense word meaning "the camp" or something like that--sorry, I'm as ill-informed as our phony "president" on these things. I noticed that the only still-living meanass head of al-Queda then issued another one of his muddled jihad speeches--you'd think a terrorist force mighty enough to hold off the entire US Military Forces combined in both Afghanistan and Iraq now still doesn't have video equipment cool enough to give a clear picture--doesn't al-Queda own super-digital Sony cameras and shit--even in Baghdad the kids have better video cameras than al-Queda--oh, that's right, they're using cameras given them by the CIA, that's what wrong with those al-Queda-threat tapes. All these messages are in Arabic; yet, I read where the State Department has no one who speaks Arabic on staff; where do the translators of these messages come from?
Oh hell yes a bomb might go off right here on my block in New York City tomorrow--Arabs, Islamics, too; Moroccans, Islamics, too; Pakis, Islamics, too; Persians, yep, these are Islamic, too, live all around me, run rug stores and perfume stores and cheap-junk import stores all around me, all the jewelry stores, all the fruit sellers, the gyro cart guys, the guys that run the newstands, the guy that sells me my coffee and croissant every morning--they're all Islamics--the fruitseller always says "God be with you" when I buy almonds and raspberries and grapes and dates and toasted cashews from him. And you know what, these people in a way are my friends; they actually are glad to see me when they see me--yes, they're businessmen--and boy do they have money, too--so they see me as a customer, but I guarantee you the Moroccan kid that makes my gyro platters for me would come out and help me were somebody attacking my ass where he could see it. I talk to them about being Islamics but it never gets into politics. I don't know their politics and I assume they just assume my politics are the same as George Bush's, I'm sorry to say. So, hell, yes, any of these guys could get a message from Allah, maybe even now, say in a dream, the coffee guy, "For Allah and for your customary straight shot to Mohammedville and Fatimaland and your guaranteed 10,000 virgins, baby, virgins--poison the coffee of all the heretic white blond American males tomorrow" or Allah might tell the fruitman to spike my fruit with antifreeze (all our fruits come from Chile or somewhere like that where they do shoot antifreeze into their trees and fruits and shit--and I remember back when Caesar Chavez was warning us about Latin American fruits, especially Chilean grapes and strawberries--remember those warnings? Remember when Chilean wines were contaminated with antifreeze? Reunite, the phony Italian electrified wine, was put out of business when their wines were found to be laced with enough antifreeze to kill your ass.
And Ralph Nader's right, those are the terrorists I'm more scared of than the al-Queda fanatical men whacking off thinking about those 10,000 virgins awaiting them blowing themselves to smithereens and taking me with them--naw, it's the corporate terrorists who are really now running this country that scare the hell out of me, the corporate insurgents who could evict me from my apartment tomorrow just on a whim.
Terrorists like the big pharmas (all our pharmaceutical companies started as drugstores, or what were then called chemist shops--Pfizer started as Charles Pfizer and Sons Chemists of Brooklyn, New York) that allow drugs on the market in unregulated doses to the point drug-prescription dosage errors kill, and listen to this, as many as 300,000 of us a year--why this wolfman goes to a veternarian rather than an HMO doctor, those snakes in the grass--hypocritical oathtakers who are still ripping off the taxpayers through Medicare schemes against our elderly, elders we should hold in high esteem and reward them for long life and give them paradise--but instead we despise them and hope daily for their instant deaths--instant deaths which the big pharmas and doctors and druggists will provide for you--"Here, take two of these and call your mortician in the morning."
F al-Queda; I gotta gut feeling somebody's gonna try and rip me off tomorrow. I just hope one of these Islamic "friends" of mine doesn't have a holy vision one of these hot Arabian-like nights....
for The Daily Growler