20 July 2010

cautious optimism or a wobbly dependence on the marginally less evil?

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Not having the spit for this lately, I've tried not to dwell on it. Since I've seen that my attentions have NO impact on whether anything marches forward into the cosmic machine, it's really okay... except, I guess, if you've been depending on me keeping up with the Iran sitchiation for you.

Gareth Porter, who's been on this new NIE thing like white on rice, says the early indicators are that our otherwise-despicable intelligence community is NOT going to slap something down on Genghis Ponzi Yoo's desk that says Iran is working on a nuclear bomb. I remember mention before that if this upcoming NIE starts out this way and then changes into wording that leaves this open to interpretation, we are flat out going to nuke Iran.

If you can stand the banging and clanging, it would be well to hear Porter talking to Horton about this. Girding myself with coffee and my finger on the volume control, I made it through, and during the course of that conversation that old feeling of competing evils came back.

It isn't even open for discussion, here, that America is GONE and certainly never coming back unless we get up and DO something about it, but it remains to discern the shapes and identities of the black power structure. The power structure we all learned about in school is just the front for a government that only intersects with us via the scripts it hands the cast of the Great American Soap Opera. There have been times over the last ten years when I could really feel the writers warring, the faction that doesn't want us to blow up the planet and the faction that does. They're BOTH criminal racketeering packs of embodied toxin scum, but it keeps turning out we need to root for the one working against planetary annihilation, despite the fact that they only don't want it vaporized because they make soooo much money killing it slowly.

Lingering agony or a beam from the Death Star? Hope can't enter into this. That means you feel no sense of agency and that means the Space Nazis should definitely zap us and go off to torture creatures in some other sector of the galaxy. If you can muster yourself to face that you DO have some agency, then maybe WE can turn it around, but you really, really, really have to get the picture about the powers that be or it is already over. Nobody in power will save us. At least half of them actively want to kill us all. The other half wants to suck off all our vital energy first. This is not a tenable situation from bed.

I'm talking to you.

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Sure, sure, there are still moments when I entertain myself with the warm and fuzzy notion that at least some of the cast members of As the Oligarchy Turns the World into Paste are struggling under the masks of their specific roles to thwart the almighty producers, through their completely owned directors and writers, but let's face it, actors are vain and utterly replaceable and if there is even the flickering ember of resistance left in a one of them, it makes NO difference at all. It bodes NO improvement whatsoever. Even if this notion is plausibly based on a shred of mutilated dandelion puff, it is completely worthless to the production of a beneficial reality out here in the walking around world.

I have threatened to run Sarah Palin's presidential campaign, GET her pathetic ass into the Oval Office, JUST so I can PROVE to you the cast of South Park could be in there and NOTHING WOULD CHANGE. I would die before I ever voted for her. I plan to pick persons I believe would truly be good public servants, living or dead, and write them in on my ballot from now on. I will not cede my token right to have a say, but I will not use that token to delude myself or others more than the already genocidally too much we're deluded right this very now. Having considered all the options, this is the only way to proceed in good faith, but if you don't get with the program, I'm gonna get Sarah Palin elected. I promise.

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13 comments:

  1. Agent DLC attempted to intervene but found himself, as usual, way off course!

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  2. That fucking SENILE "asset"! WHY don't we put him out to pasture! What manner of sentiment could possibly keep us running this completely incompetent so-called spy? KAOS is rolling on the floor, laughing its collective ass off... not a pun... and I, for one, say there are not enough pots of beans to flush them out when we have jackasses like DLC bungling this way!

    OMG!

    How ignominious! First Max goes off to drink himself to death and now THIS!

    Maybe we should just turn in our decoder rings and fade away....

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  3. It is discouraging indeed, CONTROL keeps holding him out as a top agent, but he seems to always be screwing up. I know you told me of his behavior that time at Yosemite when I took him out for a two hour ride only to finally return to the yurt two weeks later! Then to find that 86 had drank all of the brandy and left his marks all over the place!

    Sheesh!

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  4. I'm trying to comfort myself that the cover story HQ put out for that fiasco was pretty good. Probably one of the agents I trained. But STILL. This is just completely unacceptable, even worse than running you off down the garden path for two weeks, because AT LEAST it taught you the fullness of the peril in a manner no drill could ever approximate, but I defy you to think up even ONE possibly remotely redeeming aspect of this COMPLETE disgrace. That advertising stunt cover will certainly work with the public, but there's not a soul in all espionage, past, present or future, who can have been even momentarily taken in by it.

    I am prostrate with embarrassment.

    We should have branched off into our OWN agency, gone freelance, after the fall of the almighty 86. The world might have been saved by now if we'd done that. Instead, we must endure this utter disgrace and watch the black forces of KAOS take over the world.

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  5. I don't think you should bother. Why involve the yaks in our disgrace? I think we should go dark until people have forgotten all about this blight on our formerly vivid reputation.

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  6. Gawd! It hurts to see him so OLD!

    Did I ever tell you that I helped him write this song? That he stole some of the lyrics from me, while hitting on me in an all night cafe? Struth.

    I never pitched a fit about it because he did such a fucking fantastic job with the words.

    But... WHY THE FUCK AM I SO POOR?

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  7. Gawd! It hurts to see him so OLD!

    Ain't that the truth!

    Sheesh, I aged 10 years just looking at him!

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  8. When we move to the North Pole to refrigerate our polar bear friends, I think we need to bring many barrels of absinthe with us. I'm thinking it could be well worth it to slowly build up a tolerance to the depredations of booze... maybe use milk thistle as a mixer... so that I can stay high on that shit... EVEN if it fries out my brain. I'm so totally seeing why so many codgers are turning into stone cold drunks... and they might be using the utmost in wisdom by doing that! They darn well might.

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  9. I tried to find decent pictures of the milk thistle.

    From the crappy pictures I found it looks like the thistles I've seen growing along the roadside near Jenner on the way in to Pomo Canyon.

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  10. Yes. Milk thistle is not lovely. It, however, I think, is the only known substance that actually RESTORES liver tissue. They use it Germany on cirrhosis patients to excellent effect.

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  11. Actually I rather like thistles. Beautifully dangerous.

    But then I also used to race a Thistle

    (Originally posted at the wrong thread! Sheesh!)

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