Tuesday, October 26, 2010
I'm rereading the Communist Manifesto for the first time in many years. I'm reading it along with Ortega y Gasset's classic Revolt of the Masses. I was never a Marxist. I read Das Kapital, and though I found it abysmally written, I was fascinated by the research Marx had done in the London libraries and the conclusions he reached in terms of Capitalism--actually in terms of the captains of Capitalism and how they and not the system if left unregulated and uncontrolled would exploit the workingclass--Marx's proletariat--and through that exploitation set themselves apart from the peasantry, the workingclass, in what became the owning class--the Power Elites of Capitalist society. Marx unfortunately believed this owner-class exploitation of the workingclass would eventually drive that workingclass to REVOLT. They were bright enough, unlike the peasants, to see they were being worked to the bone for the profiting of their workplace owners. Once this workingclass, this proletariat, revolted and won, and Marx believed such a revolt wouldn't last but a few days, they would need a whole new form of government and along with this new government a whole new way of life--leading to an eventual state that would be the opposite of the Capitalist state.
In 1848, the French people had become sick and tired of the royal snobbery of the court of Louis Philippe (at one time popularly called the Citizen King). Plus Louis Philippe's administrative council had gradually abandoned Louis's liberal policies and royal attitudes and as a result, workingclass salaries dropped to almost peasant levels and soon France found itself in an economic depression. It was natural for Marx to think this overthrow of Louis Philippe was the start of his proletariat revolution. Louis had abdicated the throne by then--leaving Paris at night in a taxi under the name "Mr. Smith." But the hope of a proletariat revolution all blew up in Karl's face when once the workingclass had kicked Louis Philippe off the throne and out of town, they accepted his grandson as king. Then later they changed their minds and declared France a republic and elected Prince Louis Napoleon as their president. In return for their kindness, Louis Napoleon declared himself president for life, eventually saying, "Ah, to hell with this president shit," to then pompously declare himself Emperor of France, presenting himself thereafter as Napoleon III. So much for Marx's proletariat revolution happening in Paris in 1848. He would go the rest of his life looking for the place for this proletariat revolution to happen--maybe Germany--maybe England...but no. Marx died without ever seeing a proletariat revolution. Ironically, Marx could not have predicted the Russian Revolution of 1914. Marx looked down on Russians. He thought of them as peasants. For instance, Marx didn't care at all for Bakunin. Ironically, it wasn't the proletariat of Russia that revolted; IT WAS THE RUSSIAN PEASANTS, the class Marx thought totally out of the loop when it came to revolting. It was peasants who were revolting to Marx.
Louis Philippe is an interesting dude. He had a similar life to the Marquis de Lafayette--and they lived around the same time, too. Louis in the 1790s came to the United States, first to Philadelphia, where his two brothers were living in exile. From Philadelphia he moved to New York City, where he lived in a friend's mansion on the corner of Broadway and 79th Street. From New York City, he moved to Boston, where he lived in rooms above the famous Oyster House restaurant, the oldest restaurant in Boston. He at one time taught French while in Boston. He lived in the USA for 4 years before he and his brothers tried to sneak back into France via Havana, Cuba, but instead they were arrested in the Gulf of Mexico by a British ship and taken to Havana, where they stayed for a year before they got a ride to England, from whence Louis returned to France and became King. At first, King Louis Philippe was very liberal, a trait he said was due to his stay in the United States (and eventually he traveled all around the US, as far west as Nashville, Tennessee, and as far north as Maine). His ideas were so liberal and popular the French soon called him the Citizen King. But like all royal fops, he soon conceded his liberal thinking to his royal fop court who proceeded to act more royal and to care less about the people and especially the workingclass and the peasant class. There soon came an economic depression and that was the reason the workingclass rather politely overthrew Louis Philippe's regime. After his abduction from the French throne, Louis and his family moved to England, where he died in 1850.
This respect for royalty is still present in the White cultural and political way of thinking in the United States. Just this morning (Monday, October 25), the top story on the commercial network newscasts here in New York City were all having to do with commoner Kate Middleton and her live-in relationship with the fawned-over Brit fop, Prince William Mountbatten. The worthless Prince, a drag on the British economy, and the commoner Kate have been off and on fornicators for several years now since meeting while both attended the University of St. Andrews. The reason for this story headlining our New York City morning news had to do with this illicit couple being seen in public together for the first time since their latest reunion (they bust up and then reunite every 6 months or so (and I know, make-up sex is sometimes the best sex we ever experience)) at the wedding of some Brit high-falutin' somebody. The well-quaffed network news babes, my gosh, were all aglow with rumor bins of questions: "Does this mean that the charming Prince is going to perhaps marry his commoner girlfriend after all?" "Ooooh, Liz, that gives me the chilly-willys. Doesn't it you?" "Gosh, that it does, Jillian. We should be so lucky, right? I mean, it's right out of the Cinderella story, isn't it?" "And, of course, the big question, girls, is will this commoner Kate become Princess Kate?" The bubblehead conjuring went on and on and I, the ultimate Anglophobe and royal-fop hater, began ridiculing such bullshit waste-of-time news by thinking, "Gee whiz, boys and girls, just think, this commoner Wales girl will one day let Prince Bill bang her 'long time' without a rubber--oh, sorry, royal fops, you guys don't use rubbers; that's right, you're under divine law not civil law, sorry...." Now I'm thinking, I wonder, did Bonnie Prince Charlie use a rubber while he was banging Camilla Parker Bowles bowlegged out in the muddy fields while his wife, Diana, America's Princess, and mom to the fawned-over little princes, was out in the stables entertaining the stable hands? "Just think, boys and girls, when Prince Willie makes Commoner Kate preggers, a little royal fop of a worthless child will pop out. The wowsy couple of course will be praying that it's a male child, and with his or her first breath, he or she will gain a plush seat of leisurely comfort in the Nazi-backgrounded House of Windsor's inheritance. Don't that just tickle you all pink and Aryan white?"
As I switched that news for idiots newscast off (I cast it off) in disgust, all the little news babes were beaming with delight as they chewed over the possibilities of this commoner gold-digger marrying the little Nazi-background prince and to perhaps one day have one of her little worthless children perhaps one day become the king or queen of Merry Ole England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland, and what's left of what the sun doesn't set on. Yee HAW! But, and this is my free advice to Prince Willie, "Keep an eye on this babe, Willie--like when she starts getting heavy into horseback riding and hangin' out down at the stables--don't forget where you come from. Oh, and I hope someone doesn't spill the beans to Katey that the House of Windsor and the Scotch-drinking Matriarch Elizabeth Mountbatten are almost bankrupt. So, good luck, William--and remember, too, though your father looked like a mule running backwards, he still got himself plenty of good roaming flying fucks in his day--the roving eye, Willie, me boy--you got it. And this Kate the Commoner will skin you alive if she catches you imitating your father or your mother whether in the muddy fields south of Windsor Castle or in those stables back of Buckingham...or hell, those stables back of all your Grandmother's divinely given properties." Maybe President Obama will graciously send the Good Queen some of his liberally handed out bailout money.
And I hate picking on President Obama. I like the dude. I wish he were sincere. But he's not. He's simply a politician who gambled on winning a race to the White Man's House and he won it and he's collected his prize--he's now a millionaire and he's set for life even if he's never elected to any political office ever again; plus his wife is now as first lady primed and ready for a political career or a book-signing-speaking-engagement career should she choose to get in a race herself; plus his two daughters will grow up with the best of lives and opportunities and Ivy League educations and hanging out and making love and plans with the choice men of their future....
Like once again Obama has a chance to whip up the voters against these total idiot Teabaggers and rich-boy antagonists and playboy financiers.... Shit, most of these assholes ruling us now are two-bit 2nd-story lawyers--streetcar chasers they used to be called--accident chasers--you know, the lowest of low lawyer types. Most of Congress. Our president. Lawyers who think things out in the garble of legalese. Whose loyalty is to the person who pays the best fee or holds them on the highest retainers. Those that aren't lawyers are poor little rich boys and sons and daughters of rich business-lawyer-politician daddies, like G.W. "Dumbass" Bush was, a Yale Business School C-minus student, and like G.W. Bush's old pappy was, G.W.H. Bush, the son of a politician who was the son of the man whose banking establishment (in cahoots with the Harrimans) managed Hitler's money for him during Hitler's attempt to liberate Europe from the Jews, Gypsies, Blacks, and Gays--and don't forget, Hitler was a vegetarian Christian, which means, all he had to do was confess his sins before the Great WHITE Throne of Judgment and, zip, like that, the boy's in Heaven. Can you imagine going to Heaven and Hitler meets you at the Pearly Gates!
--surely there's been an entertainer called Pearly Gates, hasn't there? I remember Peg Leg Bates, but no Pearly Gates.
Whew. Even a writer gets tired after such a prolix haranguing.
But I'm running away from this current bunch of fools racing toward their seat in the Power Elite. For example: Meg Whitman, the ex-eBay CEO, running against loose-wigged Jerry Brown, a California governor's son and continuous political parasite. And Good Ole Meg's worth probably several cool billion dollars and she could easily retire to one of her 15 or 20 homes or condos--or to her private island estate and live out a life of luxurious glee. But NO, not this babe-with-balls. Though she's a billionaire and she's a Harvard biz grad and she's in the Business Hall of Fame, she's still not accepted with open flies (to prove they have balls) and skulls-and-bones secret handshakes into the Good Ole Boyz back-room where the good-time partying and cash exchanging events take place and the discussions as to what's gonna happen in world affairs are trumpeted--those events where the big players from K Street are wining and dining the suckers waiting in line to cash in their billions for solid-gold chips and the chance to enter the big back room where the serious gambling goes on. Meg's rich as hell, but her wealth ain't got her enough Power yet. POWER. POWER. That's the prize at the end of the race. To get into the POWER ELITE! That's as high as a rich person can go--into the Fortune 500 or into the Forbes 100. Are women politicians as greedy for POWER as men politicians? Hey, Meg Whitman has spent close to 200 million dollars of her own money to try and win the race for the governor of California, a job that pays a bag of chicken feed compared to what Meg now makes in one hour off her Military Industrial Complex and Goldman-Sachs stocks or her land-grabbing investments. POWER. NOT MONEY. Money is worthless. These people have no money (as I revealed in a previous post, I was once married to a woman who was the right-hand man to one of the wealthiest men on the East Coast and she was constantly coming home and calling this man a "paper cowboy" because she said all his so-called money was in paper--paper contracts, paper deeds, paper legal agreements, paper transactions, paper accounting books--she said they never had any cash--and they never paid their personal credit cards either) per se. And money to our government, as we know, is so much monopoly money. I mean when the government needs money, hell, they just print up a new batch. In fact, the private-corporation Federal Reserve (under ex-Bush playboy and profiteer Ben Bernanke) is fixing to give the OK for the printing up of another trillion or so dollars of nosediving US dollars. Why? As an economic stimulus, they say. It's good for the stock market gamblers, of course, who don't deal in money anyway--or if they do deal in money they deal in it on the Foreign Money Exchange. Like, come on, isn't it ironic how we are in the worst depression in modern times--a depression that is spreading all over the world, by the bye--and yet our stock market is performing brilliantly. I just read the other day a statistic that said 80% of stock market investors were the 1-percenters--corporations and our wealthiest goons--including Meg Whitman. Average schmoes in the market--less than 8% of investors. While you may own 100 shares of Exxon-Mobil, just think, Warren Buffett probably owns 100,000 shares of it.
As I said, while I'm rereading the Communist Manifesto, I'm also reading Jose Ortega y Gasset's Revolt of the Masses. A book I find so fascinating I classify it as one of those books I am perpetually reading, i.e., Thorstein Veblen's Theory of the Leisure Class and C. Wright Mills's The Power Elite.
"Advanced civilization is one and the same thing as arduous problems. Hence, the greater the progress, the greater danger it is in. Life gets gradually better, but evidently also gradually more complicated. Of course, as problems become more complex, the means of solving them also become more perfect" [p. 66, Revolt of the Masses, Mentor Books ed. 1950].
Come on, think about that. Progress breeds solutions, yes, but it also creates more and more complicated problems. These problems demand deeper and deeper thinking solutionists. Solvers. And this is the big-picture problem. We the People of the USA know the problems first hand. What we don't know and aren't getting are fact-checked solutions to the problems only solutions that just don't add up after they're put into law. Computers aren't helpful really. They think too fast. They solve hypothetical problems in the blinking of an eye. But their solutions are complicated in themselves. Like browsers. The more advanced and safe the browser the more complicated the problems associated with keeping that browser advanced and safe and protected and whatever.
"But each new generation must master these perfected means. Amongst them--to come to the concrete--there is one most plainly attached to the advance of a civilization, namely, that it have a great deal of the past at its back, a great deal of experience; in a word: history" [Ibid. p. 57].
This should lead one to wonder why President Obama has specifically voided looking at "a great deal of the [our] past." Look to the future, he says. "There's hope on the morrow." Thinking in hypotheses toward an unknown future.
"...there is not one stock phrase of the many that human experience has produced regarding revolutions which does not receive distressful confirmation when applied to this one [the Russky Revolution of 1917]. 'Revolution devours its own children.' 'Revolution starts from a moderate party, proceeds to the extremists, and soon begins to fall back on some form of restoration' [like the Chinese Commies now becoming one of the richest economies in the world; a Communist country now with property owners and new billionaires galore--side by side with the poorest peasant class as well as workingclass in the world], etc., etc. To these venerable commonplaces might be added other truths less well known, though not less probable, amongst them this one: a revolution does not last more than fifteen years, the period which coincides with the flourishing of a generation" [Ibid. p. 57]. Which leads to a brilliant footnote explaining how what the flourishing of a generation means in terms of a generation being based on 30 year periods.
If I remember my Hegel correctly, I believe he's the source of "history repeats itself"--I may be wrong about that, but Hegel did say we progressed, then we regressed, then we progressed again. Even old Charles Dow, the original Dow of the Dow-Jones Average, believed in cyclical events in terms of investing in the stock market. Dow based his business cycles on the effect the moon had on the tides.
I mean look at how We the People collectively learned nothing from our losing of the Vietnam War--in spite of the Pentagon Papers revealing what a sham of a war it was and what a cruel and devastating effect it had on the Vietnamese people--2 million of them died so that We the People of the USA could lose 55,000 of our own young men in trying to bring these people we knew absolutely nothing about democracy and freedom and liberty and justice for all. OH HOW FUCKING HYPOCRITICAL and PHONY THIS COUNTRY AND ITS PEOPLE ARE! There's no unity in this country. We love divisions. Look at our sports leagues. Many divisions. Look at our corporations. Divisions. Our gossip is divisive not humorously positive. Our comedians now are verbally mean, snide, pompous, and definitely very not funny--especially the fatty ones--especially the big fat Black chicks that come on with that phony Wendy Williams Black pretense.... I pause and catch my live-and-let-live breath. As Chester Riley used to say, "What a revolting development this is."
William Bendix (a Mexican-hating racist) as Chester A. Riley (with his daughter, Babs) from the ancient teevee show "The Life of Riley"
Another Jazzman Has Bought the Farm:
Marion Brown, 79, American jazz saxophonist
for The Daily Growler
--------------------------------No Need to Dig for Truth Here---------------------------------------
Monday, October 18, 2010
Foto by tgw, New York City, October 2010
The View/The Talk
Election time. And the idiots, I should politely call them the primitives, are coming out of their woodwork knotholes while the elevated snobs (the artisans) (those who live up in the high branches--like in the ivory towers) stay cocooned and write their opinions back and forth to each other and praise and award each other as though their elevation gave them a clearer view of a very abstract situation. Meanwhile, down in the streets with the idiots there's no sanity, only the soapbox ravings and maniacal logic of the truly insane and warped, those being manipulated by our--go on, guess who, Pilgrims? If you know me and my Sociological stance, then you guessed: THE POWER ELITE, and you would be correct. The wealthiest of our society are working the works behind these idiot Teabagger candidates and true believers who are going to seriously vote for them. These wealthiest non-taxpaying-foundation-founding few. Those whose financial institutions, lending-scheme outfits, private-equity ventureships (and oh how brilliant the rich-boy's Harvard-grad son who came up with the wealthiest of us pooling their billions into these private equity funds and holding companies who are now stealing all our land and water, all our homes, our bank accounts, our pensions, our jobs, our factories, our public schools, OUR ELECTIONS--these few miserly knights of the Wall Street Roundtable forcing us into faithfully trust their judgments and backings, plunging We the People and our government deeper and deeper into debt. Individually through cheap enticing credit and remortgaging schemes and as a nation through their profiting from as many wars as they can encourage our leaders to get us into--from their robbing our Treasury and Federal Reserve (inside jobs)--using bankruptcy as their private little bailiwick--ordaining a limited use of bankruptcy now by the average citizen--from their imposing insurance schemes on us with the backing of our state governments and Federal government--I mean think of how many different insurance policies an average US citizen or family has to carry: life insurance; health insurance; dental insurance; automobile insurance; home insurances: fire, casualty, burglary, flood, wind, Acts of God, etc. They own our asses lock, stock, and barrel--and now they want to own our government and that way own our Rights, own the Constitution, own our decisionmakers, own our researchers, own our technicians, own our artists, own the land we are going to be buried on--that is if we have enough burial insurance.
And these Leisure Class bored are the ones who are manipulating the Teabaggers, the fundamentalist Christians, the White Supremists, the insane, the idiots, the primitives--directing their faith in the insane backwards-sliding-thinking or their most highly vocal misdirectionalists--the idiot-fondling intellectuals that spin doctor out the palaver that works in forcing these idiots to all take handguns and shoot themselves in the foot. Though, how great is it going to be when these fools take Congress back again; when McCain and Palin win by the largest majority in US voting history over Obama--and God help him if he keeps Joe "Lifeless" Biden as his running mate--but even with Hillary as his VP (and what an amazing rise to political catbird seat power old Hillary has weaseled her way into--by holding old roving-eye Slick Willie by the balls, making him pay big time for all that diddling he did while she was having to be the perfect-wife first lady--did Bill have her lover killed? Think Vince Foster. You remember old sad-eyed Vince Foster, don't you? The trusted Clinton lackey who was found in a Washington, D.C., park with a bullet between his eyes, which the D.C. cops said was suspicious but the Federal investigators said was obviously to them a suicide. Hey, very few of these lucky lackeys like Vince Foster, an Arkie hillbilly who saw the Clintons as his bus ticket to fame, commit suicide. Think back and count the number of White House aides who've committed suicide at the height of their active participation in a comfy, good-moneymaking, great-source-of-contacts White House job. Vince is the only one I can think of. By the bye, nobody asks Hillary about Vince anymore. It's like that BP oil spill, old Vince has just evaporated...disappeared...in the annals of history. The late great, a The Daily Growler Hall of Famer, J. Orlin Grabbe had a whole file on the Vince Foster Murder Case on his grand old Website--but the great man died down in Costa Rica and his Website has evaporated...disappeared...miraculously like that BP oil spill. And thank God for British Petroleum. Why, if it had been any other oil company, God might not have allowed the air to suck those 2 million barrels of raw gucky crude oil up, filter it out in its cloud formations to allow the water to return to earth pure and fresh--OK, so it has a wee bit of an oily taste to it. I suppose we should all get used to drinking funny-tasting water--like those poor souls in Hungary along the Danube, the Blue Danube that is now the Toxic Red Danube, are going to be tasting that red sludge in their drinking water for perhaps years to come--deadly years, too.
Of our top overblessed multibillionaires, Warren Buffett and Bill and Melinda Gates, proved over the past few weeks that they've got a little criminal deceit in their Capitalist bones. Buffett proved it by saying he knew nothing about Moody's, of which he is the OWNER, doing a little "cheating" on its ratings of SEC stocks and bonds--hey, Warren was up in his above-the-clouds penthouse boardroom--he doesn't have time to go DOWN to street level and see what his little crooked imps are up to--as long as they're following old Warren's VISION: to get him even richer and richer no matter who he leaves spinning in the middle of the 8-lane highway that is the Nirvana-like path that leads to the global pot of gold at the end of the all-encompassing man-made rainbow like an empty beer can thrown out the driver's side window of a car on a regular old 6-lane highway going 100 mph. That beer can spins in the middle of the road for a long gorgeous minute or two, then it is suddenly flung off the road to end empty, battered, and a dead soldier in either the right-side or left-side ditch. Little Bill and Melinda Gates proved it when it was revealed their famous charitable foundation (their trickle-down utility) is heavily invested in and richly profiting from its investments in Monsanto, the toxic chemical company (sulfurides; Agent Orange), the genetically engineered and one-cycle seed company, the highly toxic chemical weedkiller Roundup company, and the company out to capture the world's food supply. "Hey, Melinda and I are covering our plumping-up asses, dammit," Bill argues. "We can't stay the world's richest people without some sound investments--like Cousin Warren told us about Monsanto...and Warren's a saint...I mean, why is he so rich if he isn't a saint?"
Monsanto, a native Saint Louis company, was founded by a man named Queeny back in the early 1900s who was a pharmacist/chemist. Queeny named the company after his Porto Rican wife's maiden name, Monsanto. Her father was a Caribbean sugar king based in Porto Rico but whose sugar plantations were in the Danish West Indies. Queeny's first big winning product was the artificial sweetener (later proven to be a carcinogenic), saccharin, which he sold exclusively to the Coca Cola Company. Monsanto later produced caffeine and vanillin, which it also sold exclusively to Coca Cola. Monsanto then joined with Bayer to form MoBay, which gave us polyurethane. And, yes, Monsanto also had a part in the role of producing acetylsalicylic acid from which comes aspirin. Monsanto in the 1950s gave us NutriSweet (aspartame) and bovine somatotropin (Bovine Growth Hormone). Monsanto through its European connections gave us rubber. And, by golly, Monsanto ran the Dayton Project, a part of the Manhattan Project that eventually gave us nuclear bombs. Monsanto gave us Light Emiting Diodes, LEDs. And, I almost forgot, Monsanto gave us DDT. And you never considered pharmacists/druggists/chemists/biochemists as producers of EVIL.
On another topic: I just read where We the People just made a big arms sale--and thank God for it since our national weapons of mass destruction industry (owned by We the People through our Pentagon and Defense Department and their support of our Military Industrial Complex) was complaining about how We the People were suffering a major drop in our worldwide arms sales--but thank God, like I said, besides the recent sale of jets to our great democratic brothers (the sisters don't count in this country) in Saudi-Arabia, this time We the People can thank God for the great democratic republic of Pakistan! Yep. We the People just made a 12-billion-buck arms deal with our fellow Pakistan lovers of peace and freedom and the security of having nuclear weapons. Hell, the Paki Army, those fairminded fellows, needs helicopters; they need hi-tech surveillance equipment--and their needs are a big boondoggle for the USA Weapons Industry--which means a huge help in our economy's better-than-expected (or is it?) recovery. Praise the Lawdy Lawd for US's rising weapons sales! We do need war, don't we? Friedrich Engels, after Karl Marx had died without seeing Capitalism fall in a few days as he had predicted in 1848, discovered that CAPITALISM CAUSES WARS.
[It was announced Wednesday, Oct. 20th, by one of Hillary Clinton's lackeys--the division of the State Department that handles weapon sales--that the sale of jet fighters and helicopters to the Democratic Republic of Saudi-Arabia (I jest of course) at 60 billion dollars is the biggest arms sale in US arm-selling history. Oh the champagne and caviar is flowing in rivers around the District of Corruption tonight--how about the Lockheed-Martin Drink-and-Fuck Fest at the Sheraton!]
It kind'a ticked me off to read that close to 2,000 Iraq and Afghan War vets have committed suicide since their return home from both these continuous Capitalist wars. Amazing how we hype up how everything we're doing we're doing for our children and our grandchildren and yet when our children and grandchildren turn 18 we without conscience send them off to possible early deaths or if not deaths, returning severely wounded both physically and mentally--to die or be crippled in the current case in two very immoral if nothing else Capitalist WARS. Unwinable WARS, the best kind of WARS in terms of Capital Gains.
And getting back to speaking of idiots, check out the Teabaggers--though, you know, the Tea Party name fits these divisive little spoiled brats just as well. The original Boston Whiteys who staged the Boston Tea Party dressed up like Native Americans to deceive their White British Royal/Tory relatives--they were deceitful Whiteys. And beware deceitful Whiteys.
And the deceitful Whiteys are tricky bastards--remember, for the most part deceitful Whiteys have made the laws of the land--they've made up the rules. For example, Karl Rove, the brazen little hack-cover-up-creep is back in the political prankster business, back doing just fine, thank you, with his whole new bag of political tricks. Karl Rove is back. This is the man who openly stole two presidential elections right out from under the turned-up noses of two truly lame-brained Dumbocrat choices for president: Al "The Bore" Gore and John "Vietnam Vet Nutjob/Ex-DA" Kerry. Criminally natured, Karl Rove is the man who was brazenly pompous in shielding his personal Wizard of Oz while under the cloven hooves of Georgie Porgie Bush's vigilante administration--Kreepy Karl the pissant who refused to testify before a Congressional committee against his premierly crooked old privileged murderous boss, Unka Dick "Shotgun Blast in Your Face" Cheney. Karl eventually had to do a bunk and bail out of the District of Corruption just in time to avoid doing jail time (instead, remember, Karl's dick boy, Scooter Libby, did his time for him). Karl moved to Alabama to be near his private hump, Christian Ralph "Let's Screw Some Native Americans Out of Their Casino Bucks" Reed, where for the past few years Karl's been living the charmed life of having plenty of We the People's bucks and being a political agitater.
SO KARL'S BACK. AND HE'S BACK BIG TIME. This time in cahoots with Evil Ed Gillespie. Karl and Evil Ed are operating as bagmen for the distribution of a pile of a billion or so corporate bucks to the Teabagger candidates in their trying to steal the upcoming mid-term elections from the currently wimpy Dumbocrat Congressional majority. Karl's quest is to put his Master's (George H.W. "Pappy" Bush) Neo-Con New World Order back on the march using the idiot White nutjobs who make up the Tea Party's heart and soul as his stepping stones back into corrupt POWER (corrupting power) and political finagling.
Of course, too, Karl and Ed are political terrorists--ball-twisting arms of the corporate coup attempt that is currently going on. Karl and Ed are bagmen for the true crooks, the Power Elite, those known on Wall Street as "Shareholders," those who support the nasty deviousnesses of Kaptialist Kriminal Karl (with a KKK) and his twisted sidekick, Evil Ed Gillespie. Also, another Texas jerk, Dirty Dick Armey, is back on the political scene, too. The Dick of Dicks has got a Teabagger fundraising business going--another few million for the Armey coffers. Oh how wonderful it is to be in a world where everything you do and everywhere you live and go is wallpapered with billions of good ole worthless US bucks.
Imagine letting these little pissant rats get their filthy mitts on multimillions of laundried corporate profits-dollars, millions of untaxed cash dollars, bales of corporate profit-dollars and bail-out monies being palleted and trucked over to criminals like Karl Rove, Ed Gillespie, Dick Armey--or LaRouche-Libertarian (Ayn Rand types) nutjobs like the Paul Boys. And Praise the Lawdy Lawd, I see where even Unka Dick Cheney, in spite of his old wanting-to-die-from-shame heart overfibrillating occasionally (Dick doesn't worry; he's got the best healthcare coverage known to man) is also out on the Teabagger campaign trail--Unka Dick and, of course, limelight-hogging John "Failed Mission" McCain is out there, too--and, of course, the brilliant hockey mom and moose hunter, Sarah Paleface Palin, yep, she's out there, too, spreading her frozen-north bullshit all over the heads of goofball people who gang together to listen to her babble on while her Alaskan hick daughter is fumble-bumbling her way into fame on the Disney-ABC "Dancing With the Stars" glossy-glittsy dumbshit show--with two fop British judges judging American fop celebrity dancers--and how embarrassingly uncouth of ABC it is in a crucial election year to trot out so dworky and backwoods a campaigning specimen as Sarah Paleface Palin's paleface daughter, Bristol (it rhymes with "fist full" or "Miss Bull" or "Pistol." And by the bye, where's Bristol's illegitimate baby these days? I sarcastically ask. Or, how about: When is Bristol's tell-all book coming out?)
As unbelievable as it sounds to sane people (yes, a minority except when they get in the streets and unite--then they are the majority--right now they are the new Silent Majority), perhaps over half of this country are idiots. They are White, afraid, and gullible. They want to believe the lies their Great White Hopes tell them and the twisted statistics these fibbers pass out so liberally. These are anti-Obama Whites. Even the most liberal or moderate of these White Supremists have gotten things so twisted in their minds as they try and find faults with having a Black man as president of what they're sure is a White-majority nation--ending up projecting the faults of their hero, George W. Bush, Baby Bush, onto President Obama. And why isn't Obama screaming his head off about this?--but he's not. He just won't say anything bad about George W. "the Bungler" Bush. He won't. Why? He's being accused of bringing down the economy with his overspending when ironically--only an idiot can't see it--it was Georgie Porgie Puddin' Pie Bush and the leftover Repugs still in Congress who were born from G.W.'s ass who brought the great nation of the USA down to its knees, meaning brought down to the blow-job level of our Executive Branch's frail penis, brought down to our knees in a worshipful bow before His and His Father's Neo-Con-Jive New World Order gods--the Capitalist gods of the OLD PLANTATION system, the holiest way to bring about CHEAP LABOR--the goal of the POWER ELITE, the goal of CONSERVATIVES, the goal of our new billionaires, those who need cheaper and cheaper and eventually slave labor to keep more and more profits rolling into their wealth-collecting leisure class arms. Ignorant assholes who once they regain power and control of our destinies (how about Jeb Bush as our next president?) are going to right off the bat try and tar and feather our first Black President of the USA.
I think President Obama may be waking up a little bit to the fact that these sorry bastards are out to get his Black ass and nail it up exposed on an Old South Plantation barn door. And I'm reading, too, a few Internet political pundits who are waking up to the fact that if the Repugs take back Congress, Obama will face impeachment. The Roves, Gillespies, Armeys, and Bush Associates will come up with something on President Obama, even if it's calling him a pig fucker. Remember, these Teabaggers truly believe Obama is not an American citizen; they truly believe he's a Muslim; they truly believe, some of these nutjobs (a lot of whom are Holy Roller Christians and wild-eyed Mormons), that he is the anti-Christ! I mean, can you impeach a President on the grounds he could be the anti-Christ? You would think not, but don't be surprised if when these goons get back into power they don't try him as such.
"We can't take any chances?" these idiots squeal. "We know that God's already got his eye on our morals--look how he destroyed New Orleans because it tolerated Gays. And we know our heavenly father will destroy the whole country should we keep the anti-Christ in office. And, yes, we know Dr. Jack Van Impe of Troy, Michigan, is a holy rolling wild man, but, you know, he makes a point in his effort to prove Hussein Obama is the anti-Christ." How does one with sanity deal with so insane'a thinking fellowman?
The ironies in this year's political game are many. One is, the Teabaggers are voraciously condemning Obama's healthcare reforms on the grounds most of them are unConstitutional, especially the one that forces all of We the People to buy health insurance. Yet, ironically, President Obama's healthcare reforms are greatly increasing the profits of the HMOs and Health Insurance schemers, especially the one forcing We the People to continue to pay-or-die in terms of our pursuit of life, liberty, and a chance at pursuing happiness. A further irony in this particular matter is that this healthcare reform bill they blame on Obama was designed and written by the health insurance industry itself! Yet, the industry is now shoveling millions into the Teabaggers's coffers thus backing opposition to a healthcare reform plan they actually wrote. Another irony is, while these same corporations are feeding bucks into the rightwingdingers's bank accounts, they are also shoveling big bucks some Dumbocrats's bank accounts--as they will be shoveling big bucks at President Obama when he reruns in 2012--this time with Hillary Clinton as his Vice President--fuck Joe Biden--he's been a rather droopy drawer excuse for a Vice President. Always remember that President Obama's largest campaign contributors were these same corporate creeps who are funding the Teabaggers, like the musty-smelling old codger Koch Brothers and the damage to our union they're trying to inflict upon us using the winning power of their excess wealth. TAX THESE BASTARDS'S ASSES OUT THE ASS, OBAMA...COME ON, MAN...ALL YOU GOT A DO IS TAX THESE SONS OF BITCHES...MAKE 'EM PAY THEIR FAIR SHARE...AND YOU'LL ELIMINATE THE DEBT...PUT US BACK IN THE BLACK...AND THESE TEABAGGERS WILL TOTALLY DISAPPEAR.
Bill Clinton got reelected not on the grounds of his national healthcare package but because he balanced the budget, or so it looked like, and got us a surplus economy--or so it seemed on paper--though a lot of Bill's surplus was in imaginary "future" dollars.
But oh the fun of watching our political system at work. A bunch of fucking clowns pretending to know it all--all these know-it-alls all divided down the middle--the baby Solomon chopped in half--"Who wants the head and upper torso? Or who wants this filthy bottom part, from whence comes the shit?" Besides, it doesn't matter who gets the most votes. George W. Bush proved that by openly stealing two presidential elections in a row on our dumb asses. And now We the Two-Faced American People have another chance to vote our Death Wish and put the crucifiers back into power so they can finish bringing this once-giant-potential country down to ruin, a ruin that only SLAVERY can repair.
It is now forty years since Angela Davis went to prison on murder charges after Jonathan Jackson, one of her personal body guards, took several of Angela's register weapons and went into the Soledad Brothers's court trial in Marin County, California, to free his brother George Jackson and the two other Soledad Prison political prisoners. During the affair, Jonathan shot and killed the presiding judge. The cops, of course, then killed Jonathan and because the weapons he used were registered to Angela Davis, they arrested her and charged her with murder, for which she stayed in prison for 18 months until her case was thrown out of court in 1972 and she was cleared of all charges and released from prison. It was Ronald "Raygun" Reagan as governor of California in 1970 who started Angela's death-threat problem--the reason she had guns and body guards--when he forced UCLA who had just hired her to teach a Black studies course to fire her before her first class met because she was a member of the Communist Party.
Angela Davis was a mysterious woman then--now she's a professor at Syracuse U who has just written an annotated reprinting of Frederick Douglass's autobiography. Black men in her revolutionary days saw her as a tough sister ready to die or rot in prison for the cause, a soldier on the march with the word--White men saw her as a sexual object, the new Black woman, with the Afros and the witty patter and the quick thinking and the bodies so svelte that moved so lasciviously; women so opposite the long stringy haired, pogo-stick-moving, too-White bodies, and same-ole-same-ole whiny blabber of their White counterparts; AND also with minds so brilliantly opposite directional to those propagandized minds of their White counterparts.
I myself got up close but not personal to Angela Davis once at a rally in Central Park for the Panther 21. And, yes, I was very attracted to her--to her look, but also she was deliciously beautiful in the face and cool and sure-looking in her military clothes--plus, rumor had it, Angela had had White lovers--and I really wanted to meet her and hit on her but I was with my wife and I was trying to be obedient to her after getting caught with my pants down up on Cape Cod--and yes, the anti-War Movement was a sexual affair as well as a political movement; and all political movements are sexual affairs.
And now I lay me down to sleep...
for The Daily Growler
Friday, October 15, 2010
From Out of the Fall Foliage of Lake Flaccid, New York, Appears a Man Covered in Bits and Pieces of Information...The Daily Growler Jots & Tittles Man:
Dammit I just raised up...I'm out on my screen porch (yes, it still has bullet holes in it from last year's duck season) working today, a beautiful day here in lovable if abominable Lake Flaccid...and I banged my noggin on the edge of a shelf. I'm a little whoozie from the collision. The left side of my head is ringing. The wound is just a scratch but the impact was like one of those poor NFL quarterbacks I watched Sunday being flopped back on-the-backs-of-their-heads first, SNAP, then BANG back hard on the turf--and, yes, I was bored so I watched stupid pro football. I watched the Tennessee millionaires (the old Houston Titans team) kick the delusional Dallas Cowboys millionaires square in the gonads. I marveled as they kept showing and gloating over the Arkansas hick, Jim Jones, who owns the Dallas team. He was being constantly "viewed" sitting like an archduke in his special luxury box in his brand-spanking new multitiered tax-break-boondoggle bodaciously luxurious stadium (my Philadelphia Eagle fan-friend told me tickets to the Eagles games now start at $250).
The old Arkansas hick's monumental stadium holds a hundred thousand good ole folks when it's filled to the brim. Jones moved the Cowboys from Irving, a suburb of Dallas, out to Arlington, which is closer to Fort Worth than it is to Dallas. It's like the New York Giants and the New York Jets play in New Jersey. I mean in my days as a Giants fan, if one of those teams had a moved to New Jersey, we old Giants fans would never have crossed the Hudson to see them play--plus we'd sue them and make them change their names to the New Jersey Giants. And the billionaires who own the Jets and the Giants have a brand new stadium courtesy the good folks of New Jersey--who elected an idiot as their governor and now Jersey is sinking into its own miasma--the state is broke; the school system is broke; the towns are broke and their fat-boy governor's solution is to cut human services. Why have a state government at all if it only takes your money and gives you nothing back but a constant political snake-oil show of improbable promises and renigs on promises and having to constantly lie and give out the right old song and dance--attracting those true believers.
New stadium fever takes hold of these multibillionaire team owners about every 20 years now. The Giants once played in the original Yankee Stadium--and when they did, they were a NEW YORK CITY football team. But then so did the Yankees once play in Yankee Stadium. And I add here an observation: baseball is becoming boring due to certain teams still making the money and most of these millionaires's hobby teams are losing money--therefore, the teams with the most consistent attendance records are the most successful in terms of income--and under the major league owners agreement, the successful teams support the loser teams--like I just read where the Japanese-owned Seattle Mariners are once again going down the tubes due to lack of interest in what since the Japanese bought them has been a dismal team, a second-division team--an under .500 percentage team--like the New York Metropolitans were this year. And how did I get off on baseball?
It's fall here in Lake Flaccid. Cecil the Dog-Faced Boy III I'm sorry to say is still in parts unknown--whether in parts...pieces...or whole...his whereabouts and condition are still unknown. His house is totally boarded up and sits like a haunted house now where once it was the pride of Lake Flaccid's finest neighborhood. I'm such a coward. I have his sister's phone number but I'm pissed at her. I mean she ditched me...yes, I'll admit, we had a bit of an affair while she stayed at Cecil's place last year while he was judging the big annual Freak affair in Miami. But, the second time she was up here and we got together, she spilled the beans on me that she'd met a dude in Florida who was well heeled--in the pungent supply business, whatever the hell that is. Anyone ever heard of the pungent supply business? Whatever his thing, he charmed Barbara out of my arms and into his. Good for him. I'm not the jealous type.
'Nuff gossip, let's get on with the show:
Jots & Tittles
--Fuck US Senior Citizens: did you notice that once again Social Security has said the Bureau of Labor Statistics statistics have revealed that since gasoline prices have dropped from a high of $4.20-a-gallon two years ago down to $2.40-a-gallon today, once again this year, poor old worn, weathered, wizened, and in most instances torn and broken Senior USA citizens are NOT getting a cost-of-living increase in their Social Security checks. Jesus Christ, another wrench put in the hands of the anti-Hussein Obama Teabaggers that they can use to gum up the already gummed-up works. It's during Obama's first term that the first time since the cost-of-living-increase law was passed that these poor old souls haven't gotten their raises revoked and their sore asses shafted. The facts are, the average Social Security payment is $1100 a month. There are 56 million Seniors pulling down $1100-a-month! OH MY GOD! Such wasteful spending! The White House is spinning this voter problem away from President Obama as hard as they can spin it by saying the President has nothing to do with the matter since it's based on a Congressional law passed back in the Dark Ages of the past, that past which President Obama has no time for. Of course, President Obama could by Executive Order issue an emergency payment to Seniors (a bailout) to help them overcome the plights most of them are facing. This is certainly going to push Seniors a little closer to their graves ("Hurry up and die!" the government is shouting at its Senior Citizens). What will happen one day when the Libertarian-Rightwing-Teabagging-Capitalist-Republicans get their way and do away with Social Security altogether? Will people in wheelchairs have to be going out looking for a job? or people on respirators or life-support machines?--can such people get jobs?--maybe at WalMart? Home Depot? Burger King?
I can see the directors of nursing homes around the country kicking old farts out into the street since they can no longer afford to pay their bills--"Get a job and then come back and see us," the nursing home director shouts at them as he sits 'em out on the curb.
In the meantime, those bailed-out criminal bankers and financial wizards will be rewarding their leisure-class selves with huge bonuses paid out of the huge profits they are still accruing using the trillion bucks We the People of the USA gave them to keep them all from going bankrupt. Some of that trillion bucks came out of the incomes of those Senior citizens on Social Security. Seniors have to pay taxes on their Social Security money, don't you know? Plus, thanks to Obama's going in cahoots with the big Pharmas by not allowing Medicare pharmacies to use generic drugs, Seniors are soon going to have to pay retail prices for their medicines--those medicines for-profit doctors are prescribing by the multiples working for the for-profit HMOs. Generic drugs would be 50% cheaper than branded-under-patents medicines. Generic drugs are simply the names that appear in parentheses under the brand names of Big Pharma patented drugs--like the old antipsychotic drug Geodon is in actuality a chemical formula called ziprasidone, its generic name.
---Vietnam Figures: 56,000 US troops were killed in the Vietnam Fiasco. TWO MILLION Vietnamese died in that Republican-formulated war. And to this day, AntiWar Activists are stoned and spat upon and humiliated and still infiltrated by the CIA and FBI. John LeCarre (aka: David Cornwall) may be right, AMERICANS LOVE WAR. War is a male ritual. Though I must salaciously admit I find female military personnel in their uniforms very sexy. There are some pretty women who join the military though I can't imagine a woman wanting to join the military? Why? For sexual reasons? Of course, I can't see why men join the military either. Or become cops for that matter.
--An Ezra Pound Poem: October 30 (1885) is Ez's birthday. So I thought I'd celebrate his B-day a little early and offer this little Ez diddy here:
Come, my songs, let us speak of perfection---
We shall get ourselves rather disliked.
Ah yes, my songs, let us resurrect
The very excellent term Rusticus.
Let us apply it in all its opprobrium
To those to whom it applies.
And you may decline to make them immortal,
For we shall consider them and their state
Come, my songs,
Let us take arms against the seas of stupidities---
Beginning with Mumpodorus;
And against this sea of vulgarities---
Beginning with Nimmin;
And against this sea of imbeciles---
All the Bulmenian literati.
Selected Poems of Ezra Pound, New Directions, 1957, 25th ed., p. 32.
Ez would be a jaunty 125 years old this coming 30th.
--Solomon Burke is dead. Sorry to read that Solomon Burke dropped dead in a Netherlands airport a few days ago. A big man, he weighed over 400 lbs., he has been enjoying a comeback that started several years ago and has since rendered Burke 3 albums that got him some new glory back in his old-timey bones. He was rollin' along just fine, until he hit the front door of that Netherlands airport. So sing a few choruses of "Cry for Me," and shed a little tear for the once top-dog soul singer who was on a holy rebound--he got a little reverendish in his 60s, too--dead at 70 or 72 or 74. White people like to joke about White people not really knowing the exact birthdays of Black people.
--Former CEO of eBay. I listened to a short debate between Meg Whitman and the perpetual politician, Jerry Brown, both currently running for Governor of California. Meg Whitman is the former eBay CEO who took eBay from a 4-million-buck company to a multibillion-dollar, Wall-Street-listed company--she made 2 billion buying Skype for 2 billion and reselling it for 4 billion (billionaires love buying companies and then flipping them for big profits). How? Through reorganizing (reengineering) the company into multidivisions with her hand-picked executives coming into the company and totally rebranding and retooling it. And where did Meg learn her business deceits and skills? Why at Harvard Business School, where else?
--Meg's a Long Island girl. Cold Springs Harbor. She graduated high school in 3 years and wanting to be a doctor, she went to Princeton and studied math and chemistry, pretty tough subjects evidently because after working in advertising one summer she decided she wanted to be a CEO so she transferred from Princeton to the Harvard Business School. Upon graduating from Harvard, she worked for Proctor & Gamble. She's pretty good looking so soon she found herself raised to the level of junior vice president and soon Meg was on her way to the top. She worked for Uncle Walt Disney's Mickey-Mouse Corporation, then switched over to Stride-Rite, then she got her first CEO job with the Florist On-line Delivery Co. Her big moment came when Hasbro, the toy folks, hired her. We have Meg to thank for giving We the People of the USA the British Teletubbies, you know, the group of nerdy Nerf-looking characters of which one was Gay and carried a purse. And, yes, Meg is a Teabagger. She worked for ex-Governor of Massachusetts (poor dumb Massachusetts idiots), Mitt Romney, the Mormon nutjob who ran for President but was beaten for the Repug nomination by John "Mission-Accomplished-NO," "the Failed Flyboy" McCain and the woman Forrest Gump, Sarah Palin. Meg's work in the Repugnican Party got her being touted by McCain as his Sec'y of Treasury. Also, lo and behold, in 2009, Meg was on the Board of...guess what company? If you said Goldman-Sachs, you are correct sir or madame. Meg is also a member of the Business Hall of Fame--and she's married to a DOCTOR. Meg, by the bye, has spent more money on her campaign than any other self-funding politician ever, 119 million so far--thus topping New York City's Billionaire Mayor Mike Bloomberg who only spent 100 million in his illegal third-term run for mayor, which he won by 50,000 mere votes over an unknown Black man, Bill Thompson. Meg was asked by Warren Buffett to join him in his bullshit billionaire charity club but she declined saying she has her own foundation, thank you, which she does, named after her Long Island parents. Meg is pro-abortion but she was anti-illegal Mexican until it was discovered she used illegal Mexican aliens as servants in one of her many mansions both on earth and in heaven so now she's toned her anti-Mexican immigrant blab down a bit. Rumor has it that Meg didn't even vote for a number of years--she was too busy turning eBay into a money-grubbing multibillion-dollar business that has such a built-in base--I mean the name stands for "Electronic Bay," meaning an electronic auction bay. She used her shares from eBay to start her foundation.
--Jerry "Political Parasite" Brown: Meg's running against Jerry Brown, yep, that same old Jerry Brown who's been Governor of California before and he's also been mayor of Oakland--yep, Jerry is a political parasite (ex-Governor of California Pat Brown's worthless son and former Buddhist)...though what Jerry's contributed to progressive politics, one doesn't know, do one? Jerry talks a liberal game but whether he is one is another matter. California is not too bright when it comes to the politicians it elects. Ronald Reagan was governor of California. And Arnold "Cigar Smokin' Tit-grabbing" Swartzennegger, whose father was a Nazi policeman, is their current governor. What a choice for California's idiot voters--Meg Whitman or Jerry Brown. Yahoooooo.
--Saint British Petroleum. Due to the miraculous (Praise all gods) end to the most horrendous oil spill in US history (remember, the Exxon Valdez spill was in USA waters). I mean word of the Gulf Coast oil spill is all but lost in our past now; totally a non-subject now, like Katrina and rebuilding New Orleans. In fact, good ole Ken Salazar (from Colorado) has granted permission for these sleazy rip-off oil companies to resume drilling up the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico--yep, these crooked corporations are back to drill, drill, drilling away. Soon, too, Brother Salazar will give them permission to resume drilling up our Alaskan Wilderness into oil-covered used-to-be wildness. We are desperate for oil. Why? Check out how much oil our military consumes.
--The US Armed Forces and OIL:
from Crude: The Story of Oil by Sonia Shah. Seven Stories Press, 2004. 256 pages. ISBN-10 1-58322-723-7
Thanks to Languagehat for feeding us this feed.
“The U.S. military consumes about 85 million barrels of oil a year, making it the biggest single consumer of fuel in the country and perhaps the world. Accordng to an interdisciplinary panel convened by the Defense Science Board (DSB ), cheap oil has distorted the American military into a handful of super-killing steel monsters, with the majority of the forces devoted to the logistics of simply feeding and fueling them.
“The Army employed sixty thousand soldiers solely for the purpose of providing petroleum, oil, and lubricants to its war machines, which have themselves become increasingly fuel-heavy. The sixty-eight-ton Abrams tank, for instance, burns through a gallon of fuel for every half mile. With its inefficient, 1960s-era engine, the Abrams tank burns twelve gallons of fuel an hour just idling.
“So much time and money is spent fueling the American fighting machines that, according to the head of the Army Materiel Command, a gallon of fuel delivered to the U.S. military in action can ultimately cost up to $400 a gallon. Indeed, 70 percent of the weight of all the soldiers, vehicles, and weapons of the entire U.S. Army is pure fuel.”
--Sick and Tired of Donald Trump: Take the "T" off Trump and you've got Rump. And that's what Donald "Bankrupt" Trump is, a big ASS, with an asshole for a mouth. Saw him this morning being fawned over by the CBS Morning Show babes as he appeared on that worthless morning show with Jack Welch, the big fatass pompous bullshitter who drove GM into the ground; yet, this fool is still touted as a great Capitalist genius--not much to it since the world's leading Capitalists are now The People's Communist Republic of China and the former Soviet Communist Union--check out how Russian billionaires are going about the world buying up properties and businesses. Donald Trump has gone bankrupt 5 times; yet, no one ever questions this pompous nobody asshole about how he gets to use bankruptcies to get out of paying his debts; yet, his kind are the kind who deny ordinary citizens a chance at going bankrupt anymore. Trump has been a bigger failure than he has been successful. Where did Donald get his original monies--why from his father, the original Trump real estate crook.
And that's it for Jots & Tittles and the look at the world from Lake Flaccid, New York.
for The Daily Growler
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
All Along the Watchtower
The above watchtower ain't watchin' for Jesus comin' back to earth, it's watching over those human beings out for a little stroll there in what looks like a park of some kind maybe...a park somewhere in WWII-era Germany or Poland maybe? I mean it's a black and white photo, no color, so it is World War 2, a black and white mostly colorless war. In fact, the Vietnam War was the first totally colorized war--color photos were being sent by wire--or flown back to the West Coast, developed there, and then flown to the East Coast and motorcycled into NBC, ABC, CBS where they were then shown on the 6 o'clock news hours. So this little park in this WWII setting, probably in Germany or Poland, has a watchtower watching over it. Watching over humans who were made so wonderfully compatible by these great supernatural human and animal dieties who created them from the wombs of virginal angelics. Humans made so wonderfully involved with Peace on Earth and Good Will Toward Men, they need to be constantly watched over. Escape from the views of such watchtowers is the Prize. And the Prize is Freedom, which is Peace, a peace that would ruin the need for these watchtowers that never seem to go away--the fences like amoebas always popping up again and surrounding those who are trying to escape. After you've breached one fence and thought you had peace, up pops another one entrapping you--and suddenly there's another watchtower watching over you.
So, yes, OK, the above photo and that watchtower and that park and those poor condemned people being watched over by that watchtower is out of date--obsolete, but don't go concluding that silly shit about "That sort of photo can't ever be taken again."
For instance, take the case of living on Manhattan Island in New York City. Living in what we call Midtown Manhattan, the naval of this part of the world. From that naval, I look out toward the street that once was the longest street in the world, Broadway--now a comfort zone for supertourists and foreign hoarders, with tacky tacky little green tables and thin-ass-size baby chairs, some in the hot summer time with little tacky umbrellas full of commercials over them--and those ugh-ugly matching god-awful cheap tacky garbage cans that go with these tacky tables and chairs--and oh my God, some designing son of a bitch has now come up putting art down on the widest parts of that tacky Times Square comfort zone for supertourists, foreign hoarders, Capitalist pig buyers, and of course NYC's friendly hardworking winos and shysters and pickpockets and terrorists--yep, the Times Square bomber is now bragging how his overall plan was to eventually blow up the whole city of New York--and headlines in our corporate-controlled going-broke newspapers are crying out a DREAD WARNING to us New York Citians--and WE ARE SUPPOSED TO COWER IN FEAR AND STAY WITHIN OUR BOUNDARIES, OUR PERIMETERS, OUR FENCES! YET WE HAVE TO GET TO WHAT JOBS WE HAVE LEFT ON TIME OR WE GET FIRED.
My anger is choking me up to near death. I'm serious, folks--I'm having to growl fang-baring ferociously again, going for the bellies of their youngest and newest ideas for instilling fear in us--FEARS based on the pompous squealing of a jerk-off asshole whose Times Square bomb turned out to be powered by two cherry bombs that blew up and set his SUV on fire--all of those Times Square supertourists, foreign hoarders, Capitalist pig buyers and traders, and, of course, NYC's hardworking winos and media mavens and hustlers and prostitutes were saved that day by a Black man who got no credit except some after-the-fact filler time in some of the local commercial news news casts.
What I'm saying is that RIGHT here in Midtown Manhattan, on the Great White Way, Broadway, We the People can see a brace of the above kind of watchtowers up and down that great old historic street in the form of "NYPD SECURITY CAMERAS"--big mother cameras, too, whose watching-eye images go back to a huge central control room full of teevee screens--think of it--our Shanty Irish Police Commissioner (and former US Customs head under Baby Boy Bush's great leadership) says he's got 2,000 and more on the way of these NYPD Security Cameras up and down Midtown streets and on down to Lower Manhattan and especially around #1 Police Plaza. To come up upon #1 Police Plaza in Lower Manhattan and see how well fortified it is, you'd think the al-Queda ground forces were in the next street over preparing to attack our true-blue-blood cops--maybe to try and off our brave little-guy jaunty Irish former Customs boss under G.W. Bush--former investigated Customs boss, police commissioner--OK, OK, I'm repeating myself--and, yes, anyway, I'm in a jousting mood as I growl my threats to go for some throats or some soft underbellies--the areas wolves attack when they are superhungry and not for the cruelty of it.
As I walk under the huge NYPD Security Camera that is aimed at me as I go about my neighborhood business, I'm hollering, "YOU FOOLS UP THERE, HERE HAVE THE BIRD, YOU SPYING BASTARDS," and that's the human in me that doesn't like to be fenced in and constantly watched railing against the pricks who spend their waking hours WATCHING ME. My human side is my cynical side; my wolf side is my pragmatic side. As a human I feel it my duty to holler shame-on-you statements at the several creeps on the city payroll who are willing to spy on their fellow citizens--oh yeah, good jobs, too, I'm sure--jobs that seem to be plentiful if you're desperately in need of an income and you're willing to join the NYPD in its belief that We the People are their enemy and not who they're supposed to SERVE. Or humans willing to spy on their fellow man can go to City Hall where our billionaire mayor has his own city-paid-for private army of security people--plus, as one of the world's richest MEN, he has his own personal-private security force in connection with his holding companies and his foundations and his Bloomberg LD, of which he still rakes in 70% of his income. Don't get me started on this little weasel mayor. Remember, he insults the citizens of New York City by pooh-poohing the salary they offer mayors--oh my fucking ancestral gods, I'm going off my rocker on Mayor Bloomberg.
So I'm driven wolf-mad and human-pissed-off insane by looking up everywhere I walk in Manhattan and seeing these fucking NYPD Security Cameras mounted on every electrical pole on every fucking street. Will the NYPD come to my door one day and say they have an order to install an NYPD Security Camera in my apartment? Am I involved in a virtual reality rendition of 1984?--am I playing a Fender Stratocaster with Big Brother and the Holding Company?--oh my God, have I awakened to find I'm married to Janice Joplin (a Texan, by the bye)?
I'm rambling a bit along the Dylan Memorial watchtower here from which I'm watching the stew--the American stew. I'm ignoring the NYPD Security Cameras and now focusing on the people constantly walking up and down these sidewalks I walk up and down constantly, too, as I cruise about my neighborhood speculating and shopping for essentials, like toilet paper. Damn, I use a hell of a lot of toilet paper for a single guy who's not that much of an excrement producer. I do use toilet paper for more than wiping my ass though. (Don't you just love those euphemistic toilet paper commercials on teevee? I especially like the "Does a bear shit in the woods" one--especially the one where the cute little baby bear gets bits of toilet paper sticking to his little bare ass when he comes back after taking a shit in woods--oh our advertisers, how clever they are--AND THEY ARE! I was one of them--I was in advertising for decades in this city--and YES, I have worked on Madison Avenue, too. All ads are LIES--don't forget where you heard that. All ads are LIES. Like those many Save-the-Children ads on teevee. Did you ever notice the one where the little girl Maria ad ran for about 10 years--I mean Maria by now, if she ever existed, is 25 years old and how 'bout a report on what happened to her--did the Save-the-Children executives send them to college or were they sold on the sex slave market?--or does Save-the-Children's money ever get out of the headquarters suite of offices or out of the hands of their advertising agency in charge of making their commercials? What a scam! But a lovable scam.
I had a boss once who was saving one of these children. She showed me letters and cards she got from this child. I mean, I looked at one--it was in English. I said, you mean this little mestizo girl somewhere down in the Amazon jungle or somewhere writes in English? "Oh, I think the girl's sister rewrites her letters for her." She had a photo of this little girl, a small snapshot-size photo, a cute little girl child, yes, as a matter of fact the little poor dear looked exactly like Maria in the Save-the-Children perpetual ads. This is the cynical human in me writing and condemning the
Have you ever Googled and seen how many nonprofit organizations are thriving in this country? I mean I hear people from things called the Media Intervention Relief Fund or the Underdog Society Research Group or the Studies for Independent Reshuffling of the Caribbean Cultures in Eastern Long Island--I mean, come on--all it takes is fundraising--all you have to do is convince some grant giver you're out to do a legitimate job of not-for-profit dogooding. Remember the big scandal in the United Way conglomeration of nonprofit scammers a few years back? The CEO was living as though he were a Rockefeller or a Kennedy. Or how about the nonprofit American Corn Sugar Association's new ads in which the superslick twentyish housewife and mother starts yacking in her actress-trained cutesy-wootsy actress voice--so bouncy and sure of the lies it's declaiming: "I wanted to know the truth about corn sugar [she avoids saying "high fructose corn syrup"]. Why I found out from the real world, doctors, scientologists, people of substance that there's no difference between MY corn sugar and just plain ole pure cane sugar...." This nonprofit-produced ad is lying through its teeth. Why? Because there is a difference, folks, between high fructose corn syrup and pure cane sugar.
And oh my false god, the fatsos I can see from the Dylan Memorial Watchtower today. Overweight people have no true will power. Brought on by Freud knows what and made deadly in that it is addictive. Humans (and other animals, too) have no self control when it comes to sugar. Kicking sugar is like going through the same thing a junky goes through when he tries to throw the MONKEY off his back. That's why it's called junk food, by the bye. Junk. Great word. Definition according to the Urban Dictionary: 1. Seemingly useless rubbish which sits around for months and is inevitably disposed of the day before it is needed. 2. A reference to something of little or no value 3. The male genitalia 4. A kind of Chinese boat 5. Heroin.
OK, without going Freud on you, junk becomes the waste of obsolescence. Garbage is the lowest form of junk. Well, let me carry it a scatological bit further: SHIT is the lowest form of junk. In the Jungle (I've never before realized the name Jung is in Jungle), there is no junk--except the junk human beings have contaminated the useful Jungle with--human beings being the purveyors of junk.
for The Daily Growler
The The Daily Growler Pin-Up Girl of the Day
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
October 10, 2010: Thelonious Monk's Birthday
Our Blessings on wood s lot on Its Tenth Birthday
Yep, we're giving a shout out to Brother Mark Woods and the absolutely wonderful and fun wood s lot Website. Brother Woods is a remarkable Canadian who lives in the splendor of what's beautiful about Canada, its Nature--that which the Canadians haven't paved over with parking lots and malls, like we have here in the Good Ole USA. He's a damn fine photographer, too. He's just an appreciator of the best we human monkeys think and visualize and create. TEN YEARS and the remarkable thing about Brother Woods is he puts wood s lot out new every day. Raise a glass of good cheer to wood s lot (Woods' Lot--Woods' Wood Lot)--it's at the top of our Blog List. A wander through Mark's site is a wonder of wonderful adventure in art...that which defines our civilization.
This star-seeker was confused by what I was saying. I told her she had talent. She had a great young black girl voice, and I qualified it that way because that's the way it is in the recording business...there's a singing style unique to Black women that White women dig and are jealous of and try to imitate and White men find extremely sexual. But, I continued, you have to package your great voice in the correct package--plus, and here's where I spouted out something that later got me in a peck of trouble. I told her I thought she had to develop along with determination a kind of determinational conceit. And what I meant was I felt someone going into so vicious a place as the recording world to find fame and fortune had to have belief in herself and confidence in her stage persona that she had no fear when facing meanly depreciating mainly White guys--meanly depreciating in the sense they'll try and pick her confidence apart, unless she faces them with such pride they can't provoke her to tears--and that's what it is, PRIDE. Pride in what you've managed to develop yourself into.
My pupil I was trying to aim toward the stars told me that she wasn't a conceited person. She couldn't be because she hadn't been raised that way. She cared about other people. She was a church lady. She came from a good family. I replied that she should check out the biggest female recording stars. What did they all have in common? Not necessarily beauty. I mean, come on, a lot of big stars aren't beautiful. But they are conceited in this determined prideful way that is based on their self-confidence but also on the reach of their talent. Look at the way they dress. Look at the way they come out of the darkness and into the light on stage--everything that is entertaining evolves out of darkness and into the light. The star being the one who gets to be in the SPOTLITE!
I told my wife at the time what I'd told this blossoming young star and she turned on me with a vengeance. "Extraordinary talent doesn't need to be conceited," she rebuffed me. But, I squeamishly tried to butt into her chain of thoughts to say, but once an extraordinary talent realizes how extraordinary it is.... "Like Stevie Wonder," she interrupted my rebuttal, "Stevie Wonder isn't conceited." I slammed back, "Yes, he is. He's so conceited the kind and considerate little blind boy persona is a part of the act he was taught to follow, an act that demands Stevie Wonder act a part, a part designed for him by the Motown staging team when he was Little Stevie Wonder--I mean, come on, his very stage name is conceited, Stevie WONDER!" She shot me the bird and went on about her grappling with her own desires for moving mountains.
Is it vanity? Vanity definitions are very negative...offensive; yet, I'm sorry to say, we all thrive on a vanity of some sort. We all can't resist, for instance, looking in mirrors--checking out our reflections. That's why mirrors are so necessary to us. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall." And when we look in our mirrors we see who we want to be. "Oh god, my nose is so awful, but then, I do have great eyes--and if I comb my hair this way--oh, yeah, now my nose is overshadowed by my great eyes and stylish hairdo...damn I look good." Even the ugliest poor woman or man finds something of quality about themselves when they look in their mirrors.
Make up. And make up is a part of becoming successful. You need a good make-up artist...I mean, come on, every successful girl singer you see is extremely well groomed and custom-made-well-trendy dressed, but also wearing heavy make up--and trust me, I lived with a striving young actress for a year--and the make up she put on and the care she took in putting it on was gruelling--and I watched it every morning for over a year--though on her weekends when she didn't wear make up at all--she was flat-dab naturally beautiful--yet, as she said, on stage or in front of a camera, beauty lies in the amount color you emit--colors that highlight your beauty lines in terms of working under hot lights.
But if you don't think these people are conceited then you don't know why you yourself are conceited in the same way. A part of that conceit has to do with keeping up your act, but a lot of it, too, stems from those stage personalities knowing who they really are--and what they were running from to get to where they are today, even if it meant totally giving up their true selves in favor of their stage selves.
Yes, we're all chasing a prize. Usually a monetary sum. Though the truly successful of us aren't really interested in the money. Money to them is a casual plaything--I mean a dollar bill to Bill Gates is Monopoly money. The old-fashioned pompous-ass rich men used to light their cigars with money. Today's overwealthy blow big bucks in conspicuous consumption on things they don't really need--like why does an idiot like John McCain need 12 homes and an untold number of automobiles?--remember when John couldn't remember how many cars he owned? Thorstein Veblen, an American genius, wrote a whole book on these people--The Theory of the Leisure Class. You see, where we peones are bamboozled is when we get it in our skulls that once so and so gets wealthy (rich) he or she is gonna give it all back to us eventually--in trickles, yes, but collect enough trickles, they say.... And I say that's all BULLSHIT! Wealthy people don't give back nothing. When Bill Gates puts a billion bucks into the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and labels it charity, he ain't doing that due to his giving something back to anybody but him and Melinda and their worthless children. And while I'm on the subject, just who does someone like Bill Gates give his trickle-downs back to? Oh, yes, he'll take care of his family--DAMMIT, these overwealthy creeps drive me to joining a wolfpack and going after some throats and bellies. Being human is so phony; being a wolf is so natural and real. Wolves evolve into man's best friend, don't forget; that is unless you believe a boy's best friend is his mother. I never heard a song about a girl's best friend, but surely it's her mother, too; or perhaps it's her dog.
Karl Rove, a Successful American Criminal, Is Back
Let me be conspiratorial and right off the bat say that I think the reemergence of Karl Rove and the really buffoonish Ed Gillespie into the political contribution world is so easily pinpointed as an attempt to bring big bucks into the shrinking coffers of the Republican Party in its new role as the Teabagger Party. The world of political contributions is getting extraordinarily extravagant in terms of both parties contending for the same pools of big bucks in a political environment now made totally uncontrolled or unregulated when our right-wing-dominant Supreme(ly idiotic) Court said corporations were people, too (according to an earlier Supreme(ly idiotic) Court ruling of the 19th Century), and thereby could give as much money as they cared to part with to help their favorite right-wing, anti-democratic, anti-justice, openly criminal candidates take back Congress so this New World Order crowd can continue on with driving our economy down to the bottom, which means getting us back on track with Reaganomic disaster.
The first huge budget deficit in US history happened during Ronnie "Alzheimer's" Reagan's two administrations. The next budget deficit, even bigger than Ronnie's, happened during the administration of old G.W.H. "Pappy" Bush (also ex-head of the CIA; also ex-ambassador to China (remember Pappy's rumored Chinese mistress?)). And our current budget deficit, the absolute deepest into debt any president ever got us into happened under Junior Bush, the extremely dumb and thereby easily manipulatable little lie-minded bastard, his father's playboy...and dammit, I still contend that Pappy Bush is behind all this shit being dumped on us now--Pappy said it in his 1000 Points of Light speech--he is the master of his own invention, the New World Order--plus he is totally connected to the Texas Oil Empire (from whence came Texaco, Gulf, Mobil, Exxon, Halliburton, Kellogg-Brown-Root (KBR), Enron (remember that fucking Bush-backed energy company?)--even BP's US headquarters are in Houston). Pappy Bush. He's tottering these days. Not going to be around much longer...and who will takeover for old Pappy? Mammy Bush? But then Mammy Babs ain't that young either, plus she's not that healthy either--she just had heart surgery, so she'll concede her rule to one of her worthless sons after Pappy buys the farm and leaves the mortal coil. Just think, both Pappy and Mammy Bush have the best healthcare on earth thanks to We the People who generously provide the best of FREE healthcare for our ex-Presidents and their wives (and what's more demoralizing is that one of this pairs's worthless sons is an ex-President now, too)--provided by We the People, who really are supposed to be the Government of the USA--a "government for the people, by the people"--and these New World Order creeps like criminal Karl Rove (a Neo-Bush-Nazi) keep referring to our government as if it doesn't belong to We the People but to some Liberal, Socialistic, Communistic, antiChrist Movement of internal terrorists out to turn control of us over to Gays and Lesbians, Islamic extremists, humanitarians, Atheists, BLACK MEN...aha! Aha! Black men.
The current head of the Republican Party is Michael Steele, a Black man. Imagine the kind of a Black man who would believe in any of the policies of the Republican Party; believe them enough to become the head of the Republican Party? A party so obviously based on White Superiority thinking--and these backwards-thinking and -planning fools's economic policies will push Blacks back into a slavery situation--maybe not open slavery but certainly the same kind of slavery the Southern tenant farmers found themselves in after Reconstruction failed and the Democrat Whites approved of Jim Crow--separate but equal (another ignorant ruling from our Supreme(ly idiotic) Court). Oh how Whitely righteous separate but equal is. It is still the leading attitude in this still-White-majority nation. Yes, it may be turning Brown, but right now it's still White-ruled and it will be White voters who put these absolutely self-destructive and conceited asshole Republicans back into Congressional power with John Bonehead Boehner as the new Speaker of the House. Whooooopeee. Oh boy oh boy. Guess what? President Obama will have the fight of his life for the next two years--plus, and here he should be talking big time with Slick Willie Clinton about how these White sons of bitches will be looking for ways to impeach him or at least besmirch him with rumors--remember, the pure-and-simple political maneuvers of Lyndon Johnson who advised his Dumbocrat office seekers to go about calling their opponents pig fuckers and letting them prove they weren't. That's exactly the politics both these stupid parties still adhere to--the Dumbos taking on the polite side--President Obama truly believing that he could bring these still-Civil-War-divided political camps into a reunion. Please, Mr. President, FORGET ABOUT THAT! No one can bring We the People together in this country. This country is too multicultural now to give it over to the obnoxious side of the White Power Elite, the White Trash side of it, the worst side of being White; yet, disgruntled White folks, out of work, paying out the nose for insurances of all kinds, struggling to keep their property, struggling to survive after losing their homes and their properties and their savings and their pensions--yet, they still believe in the politics of Ronald Reagan--still believing that the NONWHITES are to blame for the falling apart of our country. The heathen to Christian Whites: all Blacks; all Latinos--South of the Border types--Mestizo-Catholic types, too, don't you know; Latinos who are especially Mexican, whether illegal or not; and, of course, the most heathen of all, the Arabs (and most US Whites believe the Iranians are Arabs, too)--Muslims, Islamic, Jihaders, haters of Israel--therefore haters of the USA (meaning haters of the White majority of the USA). To fanatico Christian fools the antiChrist is going to be an Arab. Reverend Jack Van Impe, of Troy, Michigan, spouts out on his constantly running on the cheap channels television shows that President Barack Hussein Obama is the antiChrist...and that OBAMA is going to head the New World Order! And, hey, Brother Jack talks directly back and forth to God so you know he knows what's coming in our future...Brother Jack talks to Jehovah that is; Jehovah Gyro, these fools now call their God, who, by the bye, let me reemphasize, is the same God the Arabs, Persians, and Urdus call Allah. In fact, the Jews and the Arabs are Semites--related--the Koran teaching the same practices of sanitary law the Torah teaches--I mean throw pig grease on a Jew and it's supposed to immediately heathenize him same as throwing pig grease on an Arab heathenizes him--or one of the Muslim faith. Judaism is a religion. Jews are members of the Judaic faith. Islam is a religion. Arabs are members of the Islamic faith. Jews go to temples. Arabs, Persians, Urdus, etc., go to masjid (mosque), their temples--both words meaning "house of worship" or "place where one prostrates oneself in prayerful worship of one's God." Muslims bow toward Mecca when they pray; Jews bow into the Temple Wall in Jerusalem when they pray. We all bow before our betters! That's why old Uncle Tom had to take his hat off and keep his head bowed before Miss Anne and Mister Charley back in those great old days of slavery in this country. Why if old Tom got defiant and kept his hat on and looked Miss Anne over directly with his eyes, Mister Charley got the rope out and soon old Defiant Tom was hanging from a tree of some kind--perhaps maybe setting his body on fire to make the hanging more magnificent in its message. Yep, slavery was a part of the religion of the Old South.
Perhaps there is a large bloc of progressive voters in this country--the new silent majority. Most of the people I know are still optimistic but confused. They still have faith in Obama. He is in a progressive sense our only hope for a reemergence of what was happening in the 1960s when young people became so tired of the same-old shit, the same old conformities imposed on us by the same old set of backwards-thinking old fogies. My generation went another way from the way we were supposed to go. We didn't follow the Protestant Ethic--work your ass off while on earth so you'll amass a fortune once you get to Heaven and De Lawd hands you the keys to your heavenly mansion (in the Hamptons of Heaven...or maybe the Beverly Hills of Heaven). We didn't go for the old ways. We considered ourselves an avant-garde. Kennedy offered us New Frontiers.
Plus, my generation was discovering how valuable the Black culture was to this country's personality--how the music affected all of us, yes, but also Black poetry and philosophy was so sound--the words of Frederick Douglas so profound; the words of George Washington Carver so profound; the words of Booker T. Washington so profound; the words of E. Franklin Frazier so profound; the words of W.E.B. DuBois so profound; the words of George Washington Williams so profound; the words of Carter G. Woodson so profound; the words of John Henryk Clark so profound; et. al. And the music...ah that wonderful music...that music that takes us all all the way back to all OUR beginnings in Mother Africa. That's right, White people evolved out of Africa--sure they did. That's why Black culture seems so familiar to a White boy like me. Sure I have trouble with getting it right--the beat, the rhythm, the polyrhythms, the polytones, the harmonics--but once a White kid has it down, it elevates him or her above the ordinary and into a heaven full of real aboriginal stars.
In trying to shake off this Protestant Ethic crap I was reared in, I tried reading the Koran; the Bhagavad Gita; the Way (Lao Tzu); Confucious; I even got involved with a couple of Shinto Buddhist babes and with a girl from what was then called Siam who convinced me that spirits lived in bells. Out of all that shaking off of the shackles of Protestantism (Puritanism; Pilgrimism) through trying to find "the Way" through those other religious writings, what wonderfully happened was I shook loose from all religions. I became an A. That's an Atheist without any God at all...an A. An A human. You make anarchy out of A. I'm an A. "Er-ah, boy, I gotta put down a religion here on your job application." "OK, put down that I'm an A." "A what?" "An A. Just put an A there where it says religion." "I can't do that. A? What kind of religion is that? I never heard of it." "A stands for Anything you want it to. To me it's my religion...I'm an A. One could interpret it as being the A in Atheist without the theist part." "You're nuts. I could never hire you whatever the hell you mean by being an A. And some good advice, you'd better come up with a legitimate religion at the next place you try to get a job." "I'll keep that in mind--how 'bout I say I'm a Moravian. I rather love their macabre hymns and the fact they gave us the poet Hilda Doolittle and her wonderful Moravian-way-of-thinking poetry." "God-damn, you are nuts. Get the hell out'a here and stay out." "May I ask which god you are damning when you say 'God-damn'." "No, you got it wrong, A, I'm asking my God to damn you." "Then you should have said, 'God, damn you.'" "Hmmmmm, good point. You do have a good editorial eye...plus, I like your contrariness...er-ah, I changed my mind, you're hired. You're our new proofreader!"
for The Daily Growler