Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Living in New York City: In a World of Perpetual Royal Wars

Foto by tgw, New York City, 2008
My Youth and Nonconformity

I'm obsolete. I've already been a "youth." I've already led adults around by the nose getting my way. I've already set trends and been hip and been snide and put down old fogies and moldy fig ways of thinking. Now, I am admittedly way past being able to pose or characterize myself as being even spiritually close to anything "youthful." As a result, my "new" ideas--meaning I'm still thinking "youthfully"--come out born in storage. And I grappled many minutes before I came up with that metaphor. And I am a natural-born lover of tangibles. And, don't forget, of ironies, too.

I'm stuck in the ruts of the older highways of life, life's Route 66s, because, check this out, I autodidactically created my life's direction when I was a road-engineering youth--and I followed that direction and the road that direction led me down has led me now through several decades of "take it easy" life--smooth sailing on what to most folks would be a bumpy road. As a road builder I was a nonconformist. That's why I like the many twists and turns of this my own road. I find the way the crow flies not my method of traveling. I like the rubber-to-the-road way of traveling. The fastest way--the shortest way--never minded to me.

A part of that has to do with the fact I am slothful, a procrastinator. A procrastinator who was condemned to failure by my mother when I was a carefree high-school bon vivant (Casanova), or so she supposed me to be--my nonconformity misinterpreted by my accounting-minded mother as procrastination. Truth out, at that time, I had no idea what the word procrastination meant. I had to look it up in the dictionary to found out--and since then it's a word I've never forgotten. My mother's word for me.

I don't remember why she condemned me as a procrastinator but that condemnation having stuck with me all these years sometimes pops up into my mind especially when, yes, it does seem like I'm putting most things off. Moving forward slowly. And, yes, I do move slow. It's not that I'm slow in the "he's slow" mental categorization--oh no, I'm quick when it comes to wit and repartee and punditry and sloganeering and correcting others. I would have made a great debater or lawyer--except for my shyness. I suffer from a great timidity. And that is the explanation behind my slowness. I would have been a great teacher--except for this timidity--which I now discern as caused by my having no confidence in myself until I can prove myself perfect. The renaissance-man syndrome was a propellant I used to cruise (a form of procrastination?) through LEARNing as much KNOWLEDGE as I could gather and utilize. As a result, I became a little cocky wiseass whizkid--though, here my timidity gave me my cool.

It's all so complicated due to our childhoods being so complicated. Many a writer has attempted a volume imagining what a society formed and ruled over by children would be like--Lord of the Flies is the ultimate effort in this genre, although I'd throw the Harry Potter books in this genre, too, though I shouldn't comment on Harry since I've never even read one word of a Harry Potter book. They are too British for me. Kiddy book writers, too, try and give kids mature powers through their respect of the rules of kings and queens, princes and princesses, and even in their anthropomorphic tales, it's the royalty followers are told to follow if they want to succeed in a kingdom situation--which is the situation in most fairy tales. Trouble with kids and rule--their form of rule is the cruel form--the natural form--the instinctual form of rule. I was not a kid ruler. I never read kiddy books. Hell, I couldn't be a ruler because I was a natural-born disrespecter of RULE (but not rules).

The Golden Rule--hogwash. The ruler and yardstick to me were tools of punishment. "Grab the yardstick, Wolf, Wolfie's pissing me off in here with his obstinence," thus spaketh my mother. Roberts' Rules of Order. I never knew them. Emily Post's book of etiquette?--fuck it, I was crude, interfering, annoying...timid out in public but a wrathful little wretched anarachist within the confines of my home ground. And I blamed the reason for rules and rulers (teachings of obedience) on my parents.
Presidential Campaign Time: "Come Let Us Be Totally Unreasonable Together"

Oh my gosh, they're off and running again. The multimillionaire's every-four-year Olympic-style political game is underway--the sport of running for political office (from the pits to the power).

President Obama, a new multimillionaire, is having to round up at least a billion bucks to compete for this all-powerful world chief of police job. His billion against the multimillions of let's see, 1) a wild-wall-eyed-pike of a babe-woman from drifting-backwards Minnesota; 2) a privileged spoiled rich-boy son of Pappy George Romney, ex-Michigan governor, guaranteed loser candidate for President, and ex-President of American Motors--and pampered-rich-boy is an afflicted candidate in that he's a Mormon--but then, and here comes another set of ironies, we like wacko religions here in the US of A--and the fact that Mormonism is a truly off-the-wall wacko religion (like Christianity), though that fact didn't bother the voters of the Old Line Brit Colony Massachusetts, who loved old Mitt so much they made him their governor. Mitt made his own money, thank you, in Boston in the crooked banking business.

Now up pops this guy, Jon Huntsman, who in New Jersey in front of the Statue of Liberty--the very spot Ronald "Henna-haired" Reagan launched his presidential campaign--wahoo, originality is a Repugnican trait. But Jon is from the pitiful state of Utah--and, god-damn, another Mormon. And what a Moron he is--he's a former governor of Utah (a low-populated state though it has somehow managed to shove its way intrusively into national politics (think Oren Hatch)). Jon's presidential pitch is based on this country going Black and Brown--you see there aren't many Blacks or Browns in Utah--it's a White state--Mormons see Blacks through the drunken eyes of old Joe Smith who was simply a fundamentalist Christian when it came to Blacks being the cursed children of the cursed Ham. God cursed Ham. Why? Why, hell, because he saw his old drunken pappy, Noah, nekkid--saw his dad's old gnarly pecker all unfurled and exposed. I mean that's bad enough but he further blasphemed God through looking at his nekkid father and making mocking comments about the sorry scene--"Hey, my brothers, dudes, come check out the old man--he's drunk again, but look, this time he's buck nekkid--and, Jesus Christ, what a pecker the old man's sprouting in his winemare...and, shit, he's not circumsized...." Oh my God, what an abomination! An abomination that got Ham cursed by turning his skin Black and shipping his ass off to Darkest Africa--he got (Gott in Himmel) returned to the jungle from which we all sprang. Plus, we assume this God cursed this the first Black man by giving him a big pecker--a Black snake. I mean, I can't write seriously about such inane bullshit.

And this Huntsman nutjob was Obama's choice to be our ambassador to Capitalist/Communist China, which is now the home t0 more millionaires and billionaires than the US of A--I think (therefore I am) I read somewhere. Check that fact out. China and India are now creating more NEW billionaires per capita than the rest of the world combined. Amazing, amazing, amazing. Still both countries ironically also have the highest poverty per capita in the world. Plus, China is currently going through a long drought--they lose a couple of million peasants a year to famines and nobody gives a shit; India is currently suffering a drought--all the while Monsanto is driving all Indian farmers out of business--an Indian farmer commits suicide every hour on the hour, I heard recently. The Power Elite in China does not give one shit about the millions of Chinese who are wiped out every year by the planet's worst famines, or major earthquakes, and extreme poverty. Nor does the ruling class in India give a shit about the Untouchables--so a 100 million of the raggedy-headed woggies die--who gives a shit? Certainly not the rich.

The division of RICH and POOR...and the evidence of this keeps rearing its big greedy head in this country NOW--in fact, NOW, in nearly every country and society in the World!

And what a roster of pitiful candidates the Repuglicans are running against Corporate-Commander in Chief and Wall Street big fan, President Barack Obama. Surely the American people don't want a Mormon in the White House. Like how many first ladies will our first Mormon president show up with? Or do old Mitt and Jon Huntsman not go that far with their Mormon doctrinism? What a ship of fools. But then, Obama is a fool, too, so there you go.

And last evening (June 22) President Obama, looking rich and famous, spouted out some grandstanding palaver with his rather hollow-sounding (backwards thought out) announcement that We the People of the USA are pulling our troops out of Afghanistan...well, er-ah, we're sort of pulling our troops out of Afghanistan...though we still have this WORLD commitment being the world's policeman and moral overseer--and making Afghanistan safe for rule by US Imperialist-Capitalist colonizers (invasion and occupation of countries we don't like). Oh boy, oh boy! Except, don't hold your breath, folks, waiting for World Peace--even though our President is a Nobel Peace Prize winner! Ironies! Ironies!

Here's Obama's troop-withdrawal plans for Afghanistan--the longest WAR in US history: 5,000 troops coming home whenever--he says immediately, but that doesn't really mean immediately in the sense you think of something happening on the dime. No, no, this withdrawal will be in the "slow immediately" category--like Obama's spinning out withdrawal figures using statements like "by the Year 2018"--but to me, that ain't immediately. But, glorioski Zero, even if he brings 5,000 troops home tomorrow and another 5,000 a year from now, there will still be 65,000 US troops who are staying--plus the 100,000 soldiers of fortune that will be staying on there, these privateers who are making fortunes over there, stealing billions of dollars from We the People.

Yep, our Peace-Prize-winning president is closing down our operations in Afghanistan like he did our operations in Iraq, where we still have a 100 or so thousand troopers and soldiers of fortune plus Hillary's 7,000-man State Department private army. Plus, now, our Commander in Chief says he's not obligated to the War Powers Act or Congress in his little private war on Libya (a continuation of another Ronald Reagan intrigue), so we'll now turn our drone-and-splurge tactics (Obama says the Splurge worked both in Iraq and Afghanistan) on the Libyans. You see, according to our Peace-Prize-winning president, this, like the Korean War, is simply a police action, not a war--even though our Air Force planes made 60 bombing raids on poor old Ghad-dam-daffy's Tripoli compound and surrounding neighborhood yesterday (June 22). The intention is still the same as Reagan's in terms of Libya: assassinate Khadafy. Remember, OUR hatred of Khadafy goes all the way back to when Reagan tried to kill him.

That fucking Reagan--what a nutjob, but he got elected president by We the People--by a big margin, too. We the People of the USA elect these clowns to office so there: we must love them over any kind of supposedly peace-loving, red-leaning, Injun/Messkin-loving human rights activists, enemy-coddlers, Islam-tolerant wimps like that god-damn Dennis Kocinich. I mean, Dennis's Congressional ass is now in so much trouble in far-rightwing Cleveland--I mean Ohioans are pretty god-damn backwards--check out their governor--he's thinking of pulling up roots and moving out to Washington state to have any chance of keeping his lucrative Congressional job--since it looks like Cleveland may fire his contrarian ass in favor of a Teabagger (Party) wacko.

We the People of the USA love WAR. We love KILLING. We easily with no compunctions show people getting disemboweled or while they're still alive having pieces of their flesh cut off and eaten by a Hannibal Lechter type character; yet we rail against seeing two human beings fucking--even though all of us FUCK; even the most fundamental Christians among us FUCK. Mormon men love fucking so much they need more than one wife and all the daughters those wives can produce to quell those procreational juices. But, hell, killing is in our nature--why else do you think pistols are shaped like penises, with their balls hanging down via the grip--and it's in the grip where you store up the semen-like bullets. Even our tanks look like swollen-balled penises. Even our Air Force jets are penises with wings. Even our unmanned drones look like flying penises. WAR is a royal male sport--the penis rules the world.

It's a man's world; and men love killing; raw bloody killing, mangling, tearing people limb-for-limb. I was watching Michael Wood's great series on Shakespeare running for a twentieth or thirtieth time on PBS (our Public British Broadcasting System) and marveling over the fact that Shakespeare's mother's relatives were arrested and thrown into the Tower of London on suspicion of trying to overthrow the Protestant regimes, and though the powers who were couldn't prove any of the charges against Will's mother's family--they were rebels against the New Religion--Protestantism--Harry's new religion--they were of the Old Religion, the Catholic religion, which was outlawed in post-Harry the Eighth England--and Shakespeare's mother's relatives were executed in front of the London meat market--tortured before they died--being disembowled and watching in pain as their entrails were burned. And that, folks, is the barbaric blood that flows through us White Anglo-Saxons (remember, Obama is White through his mother). Also, I found it so interesting to note that while Will Shakespeare was travelling around with the Queen's Men (the Queen's own acting troop whose plays were propaganda plays getting the Brit subjects ready for another royal war) they ended up in Plymouth at the time of the invasion of the Spanish Armada. Will may have actually watched that battle from the shoreline. I only had one problem with Woods's presentation: he called Shakespeare the greatest writer in history. I guess that's true to a Brit.

The world goes tumbling on toward Entropy (CHAOS)!

for The Daily Growler

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