Tuesday, June 21, 2016

False flag!

Everything you know about the "Orlando terrorist attack" is wrong.  I'm sorry, but it is.  There is no "Omar Mateen" (as opposed to Omar Mateen, a New York-born rent-a-cop whose identity was stolen by the Obama regime and who left Orlando for San Francisco (of course) last week.  Very early on June 12  "Mateen" called 911 (so the call would be recorded) and claimed to be shooting people in a gay dance club.  Reading from a script, he declared his loyalty to Hezbollah, the Shiite militia which supports Bashir al-Assad; to the  Sunni fighters of ISIS; and to al-Nusra, which is fighting against ISIS.  His handlers assumed most Americans would not notice the absurdity of this, and by and large, they were correct. 

In an immense conspiracy involving the entire city of Orlando state of Florida, all gay advocacy groups, and of course the Liberal Media, the Kenyan Usurper made his boldest bid yet to take away our guns before flying off to vacation (yeah, right!) in a National Park.  Also to present Mr. Donald J. Trump with an irresistible opportunity to make an ass of himself while simultaneously driving a wedge between him and his core constituency of freedom-loving Second Amendment militants.  They refused to believe the lies about Sandy Hook Elementary School, but once you put an assault rifle  in the hands of a "terrorist" -- well, what's an American supposed to think?  Or "think"?


Next:  What Jo Cox, MP, knew about the assassination of Vincent Foster and why she had to die.



Wednesday, June 01, 2016

Short-fingered vulgarian

The sad vagabonds of the press, drifting in the wake of the Presumptive Republican Nominee, pulled themselves upright for a few moments yesterday to ask what became of all the millions of dollars the P.R.N. supposedly raised for "veterans' groups" some five months ago.  After the expected torrent of abuse for asking an unwelcome question which could in no way be answered with the phrase "crooked Hillary" or "Ya mean Pocahontas?" it was revealed that the money was remitted -- last week.  I was not surprised.  Shall I tell you why?

Where I come from, the term "short-fingered" has always meant "cheap."  As in "When the check came, his fingers were too short to reach his wallet."  As in "Why shouldn't this money sit in my account for a few months, earning interest for me?"  As in "Watch me drain the savings of less-than-bright old people with my fake university."  As they say, grifters gotta grift.  Anyone who took "short-fingered" to imply a lack of penile amplitude would have to suffer from a serious personality disorder, where I come from.

Need I go into "vulgarian"?  


Sunday, May 15, 2016

Every day a little death

The pharmaceutical giant Pfizer announced on Friday that it had imposed sweeping controls on the distribution of its products to ensure that none are used in lethal injections, a step that closes off the last remaining open-market source of drugs used in executions.
Pfizer said it would restrict the sale to selected wholesalers of seven products that could be used in executions. The distributors must certify that they will not resell the drugs to corrections departments and will be closely monitored.
Not to worry, killer states.  Pfizer makes another product which is freely available and can be used to give the condemned an erection lasting over four hours.  Repeat as needed.

Saturday, May 07, 2016

Hooray for New Math!

From Raw Story:

"An award-winning professor from Penn was removed from an American Airlines flight on Thursday after his seatmate reported him as a  terrorist based on watching him do some math calculations while waiting to take off...Guido Menzio was forced to explain to FBI officials that he was doing research..."

How do we know he wasn't radicalized by al-Gebra?  Children all over the country are exposed to this alien arithmetic.  I blame Common Core even though I have no idea what it is.  Barack HUSSEIN Obama!  It's not too late for impeachment, sheeple.

Tuesday, May 03, 2016

Spiders in Chernobyl weave deformed webs

That was the headline on my log-on page, and I know exactly how they feel.  (Are they catching mutant flies, who scream "HELP ME" in tiny voices?)  "When you awake, you will remember everything," The Band sang long ago.  That's the problem.  Am I awake?  I kept waiting for the Trump campaign to burn itself out or suppurate or something, but no.  It's as if, at the climax of A Face In the Crowd, Lonesome Rhodes went off on his audience and instead of outrage, they just smiled and said, "He's right, we are dumb shitheads.  He's so honest. Arthur Godfrey would never say that.  What a guy.  Let's give him the launch codes."

Surreality is the new reality.  Last night America was apparently informed that Rafael Cruz (the senator's father) was an associate of Lee Harvey Oswald.  (I have to say "apparently" because all I have is a Trump transcript, and it's easier to parse the Dead Sea Scrolls than his authentic Queens gibberish.)  That his source is the National Inquirer makes me long for the good old days, when Ronald Reagan got his information from the Reader's Digest, and Sarah Palin was unable to name any periodicals at all.  There were giants in the earth, we just didn't know it.  Trump is amoral, narcissistic, detached from reality and a pathological liar.  If it's true, does it matter that this acute character analysis comes from the equally disgusting Ted Cruz?  And that even John Boehner called Cruz (in an uncharacteristic burst of eloquence) "Lucifer incarnate"?  At what point does this enemy-of-my-enemy-of-my-enemy fugue turn into a wilderness of mirrors?  (Fugue?  Mirrors?  You see what I've been brought to?)  When do we awake?

I have an apocalyptic vision of my own, and it's called an Open Convention.  On the streets of Cleveland where Harvey Pekar once walked, I want a Second Amendment face-off between the Tedophiles and the Stormtrumpers.  I want the National Guard to come in at the end and kill the wounded.  I want American splendor and deformed spider webs. 

Jesus, I can't face another six months of this.

Monday, December 21, 2015

Solstice potpourri

Unless there is a war between Colombia and the Philippines, or they both get together and attack Steve Harvey, December 21, 2015, will be remembered as the day Lindsey Graham terminated his barely noticeable campaign for president.  In a field where there is no real disagreement about the so-called issues he simply could not generate enough outrageous bullshit to stand out from all the other pathological liars, fantasists and neo-Nazis jostling to lead the party of Lincoln.  I assume he and his stablemate John McCain will still pop up on the Sunday shows to demand "carpet bombing," "boots on the ground," "no-fly zones" and other well-considered solutions to the world's problems.


Have I got this right?  A punk named Couch killed four people and paralyzed a fifth while driving under the influence of who knows what, and went home after a brain-dead Texas judge (sorry if that's redundant) agreed that he was born too rich to know right from wrong.  Now he's going to jail because he was filmed at a party watching another punk play beer-pong.  The longer I live in this country, the better I understand why people in the Middle East want to come here and lop off our heads.  I wonder if they know they'll have to pull them out of our asses first.


Sometimes life imitates art, but it doesn't know where to draw the line.  If you were to create a fictional sleazebag who secures the rights to a lifesaving drug and raises the price by a thousand percent, boasts about it in long, rambling online posts, and revels in being the most despised man in the Western world, would you gild the lily by calling him Martin Shkreli?  But there it is, proof that our reality is being written by hyperintelligent beings in another dimension.  Yes, they've written him a (we hope) properly grim ending, but they just couldn't resist giving him a lawyer named Evan Greebel.  Is it possible that his grandma is Phyllis Schlafly?


Drumpf.  That was the family name that Donzo's grandfather brought here from Germany, not Sweden.  Who lies about something so insignificant?  Better ask why so many people love to be lied to.  Tell them Obama is a Muslim, ketchup is a vegetable, climate change is a myth, Sandy Hook never happened, the Chinese army is in Syria, FEMA is readying detention camps, there's a war on Christmas, aliens blew up the World Trade Center...they scarf it down and come back for seconds.  Maybe religion has conditioned them to believe unproved, unprovable crap.  Maybe they were just born dumb.  Maybe Plato was right about democracy. 


Barring something irresistible, I'm done with this year.  I need to sit in the dark for a week and listen to Bach.  Happy hundredth birthday to Orson Welles, Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra.  Goodbye to Terry Pratchett, Aldo Ciccolini, Jon Vickers, Ernie Banks, Clark Terry, Andrew Porter, Ornette Coleman, E.L. Doctorow, Roger Rees, Julian Bond, Phil Austin, Yogi Berra, Oliver Sacks, Ron Moody, Anne Meara, Ruth Rendell, B.B. King, Percy Sledge, Allen Toussaint and Brian Friel.  Thank you. 

Let me close with the words of Amiri Baraka, from his liner notes to John Coltrane Live at Birdland (1963):

  "One of the most baffling things about America is that despite its essentially vile profile,
   so much beauty continues to exist here."   


Wednesday, December 09, 2015

You do what you can

If Donald Trump is serious about keeping Muslims out of God's Country, he is in a unique position to implement this without waiting to take power:  He can refuse to rent them hotel rooms.  (I assume you have to state your religion at check-in, at the same time you promise to say "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy holidays.")  It's only a handful of hotels, but a leader leads by example. 

Also, I'm wondering how many condos at Trump Tower belong to wealthy Middle Easterners, perhaps even members of the bin Laden family.  Surely they are being bought out right now, and their possessions will soon be dumped at the curb.

In other words, I am offering Donzo a chance to put his money where his mouth is.  I do not expect him to take it.