Hey, Uncle Sam.

While you were busy trying to stomp Socialist Camel's nose into the dirt floor of your tee-pee so's he couldn't eat the contents of your wallet, Fascist Pig had a short conversation with your wife and then absconded with your daughter liberty straight out the front flap of your wigwam. Right about now his lude stash is [-1] and he's scraping his muddy hooves up her back on his way to ask her if she'd like it in the dupa. Why? Well, just so he can hear her scream "no" before he shoves it in anyways, of course. Why else does one ask? Because rhetorical questions are great foreplay in an orgy of demagoguery.

Besides, it's not like the virgin continent was a virgin anymore, anyhow.

Now, you may not know it by looking at my porn collection, but I'm not really a big fan of forced butt-sex, let alone forced anything. So, it should come as no surprise, that I was delighted to hear the plan to make participation in the healthcare system mandatory.

What's that you say? "That makes no sense because those two statements seem to contradict one another on their face. ON THEIR FACE!", you say?

Au contraireeeeeeeee{:3|:3}:3>:3eecksdeee

See, a several months ago, something happened. And in the aftermath of this particular something, there were a few other somethings that had the appearance of occurrences. And although I didn't feel all was perfect, I felt as though things were going to be... Alright, man.

So, I lay meh-self down in the tall grass to watch the happy gumdrop kingdom, naive though they may be, happily march their way down the road toward a future made of sunshine lollipops dipped in sugary organic moonlight and wrapped in the unsoiled love that they shared for one another. There I sat, to dry in the sun, wait out the end of days, and die a forgotten relic. A dried and withered old landmark on the road to man's destiny. Forever trapped in a repose of an eternal internal calm. With nothing left to do but exist as a final reminder of a day long past when slackers roamed free and misanthropes ruled the earth...

From down the road of wellness; Sweet voices echo softly...

               "Mommy, what was sarcasm like?..."....

               "Did cynics really eat children and old people?"....

               "I'll tell you when you get older, sweetie. Now, eat your Kashi allotment with your mouth closed.

Carbon credits don't grow on trees, you know."....

Ahhh... The future is in double-plus good hands. Finally, I can let go. Just one last deep breath, and yes I can let the sweet scent of... *sniff* Is that, revolt?  It was far too late to think a happy thought and drive away the Specter of dissent. The cracks had already begun to show and passersby had taken notice. The sight of upturned lips brought back the long forgotten wishes within their hearts for things not of the collective, and the parade participants began to crumble before my snarling edifice. Snarling, I say's.  Then, from on down the road of wellness, the voice of a child defiant screeched its way down the road like a runaway bride, elemental footprints be damned, shattering the remnants of the happy gumdrop kingdom, scattering hope and lollipops in all directions.

"Mother, why don't you take that fucking Kashi allotment and ram it up your rotten old cunt."....

And with that, my lungs reached capacity. I opened my eyes with purpose again, violently tearing asunder the road I had called my home for what seemed a time, two times, and half a time. And I felt more alive for the first time all over again than I ever didn't before.

I hope that clears up the contradiction.

That said, allow me to "clear-up" a few more something elses. I'm an Anarcho-capitalist of sorts.  Well, maybe more of just an anarchist, but I think capitalism is a very effective system when it stays fluid and averts central control. Government should remain system neutral, a separation between economy and state, so to speak, and not favor, for instance, capitalism over socialism. Instead allowing neccesity to dictate trade.Seemingly contradictory to my capitalist proclivities, I don't recognize the right of insurance companies to exist. I find them to be an impure sorcery. Capitalism for its own sake. A real world form of gold farming sold by those foolishly seeking to control potential wealth, to those new to the game and just as foolishly looking to control potential outcomes. A form without a function. An invention devoid of necessity. For a time, it fed and drove the economy as it filled the cups of the usury to overflowing. But this boon of humanity's amazing ability to apply reason to the unreasonable has become a cancer on the economy, metastasizing from one sector to another and growing large enough to topple it under its illusory weight. It's the Stuff™ made real, and eventually we'll engorge ourselves with it until finally we won't be able to take another bite until we had another spoonful.

Mm-mmm, delicious!

So, why wouldn't I support a measure designed to collapse such a system? Is it my aversion to subterfuge by those in public office? Partly, but ultimately the system that will take its place is much more insidious. A beast that will seek to control and micro manage diet, lifestyle, and recreation down to the smallest detail in order to control cost, in a fashion the private sector hadn't thought it possible to attempt. Why? Because it wasn't necessary. For all of its faults,  the private system is a rational beast. It realized long ago that it had to adhere to simple idea that it had to at least pretend to be something that the people desired. It takes many forms to achieve this and everyone of these forms is at the mercy of the public whim. Over the years it had become much more creative and increasingly immune to necessity. In my naivety, I had thought that to be the main complaint of most people. The shackles of law and circumstance had begun to wither the buying "power" of individuals and these corporations had become increasingly distant and less empathetic to the needs of the consumer.

               "So, of course, the answer must be to shackle them further, right?"....

               "Right, guys?"....

Yes, but only because the shackles make me feel alive. I feel the overwhelming responsibility they represent to live my life in a fashion that preserves the right of others to live their life responsibly for as long as possible and for as long as the red, white, and blue deem necessary.

Amen.

Now, before you make any snap judgments, the swan isn't a bad person.

In fact, it's not really a person at all.

It's not even a swan.

It's just an idea.

It never actually earned a paycheck.

No one was actually beaten.

The song wrote you, so why do you think you'd hate it?

Do you just take everyone's word for it?

Is there a point to this?

No.

Not if that's what you wanted. If you want to be written, then ask a book to do it.

When you give me an idea, it's mine, and I'll do whatever I want to it.

When I'm done having my fun I promise I'll give you back what's left of them.

After all, they belonged to you in the first place.

Just so you know, right now all of your ideas are cowering in the corner, screaming and crying for me to stop.

But I won't.

I will rape them again and again, until the corner goes away.

Did you have any idea that we were in the midst of revolution? That's right, we're getting all set to put a real hurtin' on the man, the fuzz, the pope, the Knights of Malta, the Illuminati, the Bilderbergers, and the N.W.O. Yep, we're gonna round up all these mother fuckers, pile them in the middle of Bohemian Grove, set the sons a bitches alight and be free for all time to walk hand and hand to heretofore unknown lands and provinces beyond the ken of the previous set of robotic sheeple. Oh, how we'll dance amongst piles of stolen gold whilst engines that run on water frolic with indigo children on streets paved with the cure for cancer and AIDS.

Are you retarded? Well, of course you are, but... No, seriously - Are you?

    Actually, you're nothing more than a bunch of maggots feasting on what you believe to be the freshly felled corpse of a once majestic beast. You're under the ridiculous illusion that, like Aslan, it will one day rise again to walk its destined path of justice as soon as the corrupt architects and dark sorcerers that left it dead are finally brought into the light to be fully exposed to the holy, cleansing rays of truth. You actually have the audacity to to proclaim yourself "awake" and think that you can make a difference by the rapid fire and consistant vomiting of the same redundant, mass produced, paranoid, bullshit - Ad nauseam.

    Now, time was (60's) that this type of "feels good to be superior without the having to actually work at bettering yourself" bullshit was acceptable. Oh, chosen generation, where art thou? If only this latest sad, disaffected generation could capture that spirit of defiance of those tater-sack clad knights of yore. Oh, those grand provocateurs who, single handedly by the power of self-righteous love and bumper sticker slogans, freed the slaves, made toilet paper squeezably soft, and gave women the right to orgasm all in one fell swoop.

Behold, the power of flower.

    I fully understand the confusion they may currently be experiencing en masse. Once, when I was about eleven, and in the midst of a fever, I fell asleep during a televised *ties ascot* Chicago Bears American Football game. At the end of the game, I awoke in a fevered, hallucinogenic haze, tackled the Christmas tree, and ran through the house yelling, "Yay, I won the game!"  And amongst the televised victory cheers I proudly stomped around the house declaring "our" victory to all the adoring fans inside my head. Seeing any similarities? I have yet to witness a generation so enthralled with itself as the Wood Stock generation, or as I like to call them, "The Second Greater-est Generation.

That is, until now.

    Oh, leetle truthers... Your chosen path, the path of truth, is a sadly easily manipulated path, based on the illusion of "right" and "wrong".

Bulletin - Neither one of those exist. They're opinions and you're all assholes.

Do you really want to spend the next however long in the pursuit of justice for fallen dominoes that may or may not exist, or would you rather stop the chain reaction in its tracks before we all fall down?

    If their really is an evil bogey man out there pulling the strings (Putting cryptic stuff on money, planning destruction, eating babies, etc.) and should you happen to defeat him with your ranting, raving, faxing and praying - You will have absofuckinglutey zero hope of ever surviving the aftermath. You have no real plan for what's next aside from moving into the husk of what once was like a hermit crab.

    I don't want to be the shiniest robot with a universal remote control. I would like everyone to build their own remotes and resist the urge to point them at others. But first, you need to come to terms with the fact that "this" never really belonged to you. It's not your "birth right". It was never "stolen". The "you" or the dead have no "right" to justice. You need to take possession of you before you have any hope of claiming any part of "this" for yourself.

    This system of right and wrong that you see doesn't actually exist. There are no walls that prevent wrong doing anywhere to seen. Money isn't real, money is nonsense. It has gone way past it's original intent of serving as a marker for trade and services to an almost sacred entity worthy of respect unto it's own. The truth is that you cannot eat, drink, or breathe gold - at least not without undesirable side effects. You can't watch, talk to, or listen to silver - at least not without having onlookers question your sanity.

  So, beyond serving as an empty promise, what purpose do monies, and the precious metals that love them, truly serve? What good are these borders and this "sovereignty" if you haven't simple control of yourself. Why do you feel it's been taken from you? Why do you want to take control of it? Maybe we should do away with it, ignore it, sidestep it - All of it.

It never really existed, let's leave it that way.

    Stop fighting unseen enemies over invisible scraps. Build something better from the ground up that isn't based on a slogan or left as putty in the hands of a prophet poised to dictate his divine will, but an ideal. One based on true working knowledge of the world not blind loyalty to regurgitated and empty facts. Based on a true sense of history, not one's place on a hollow time line. Based in the true spirit of the information age and always subject to change should a better way come along. Live in the pursuit of something like that maybe we will find ourselves already united...

Nope, we're fucked. Here, have a crummy slogan.

I haven't been this uninterested in who America gives its vote to since season whatever of American Idol. And, just so's ya' knows, I don't care to hear some fuckin' half-assed nonsense like, "You're just cynical" or, "This last president should have shown you how much you need to vote more than evar." As far as I'm concerned, I think it's just sad that you're that dumb. Honestly, Corky. The head Cheerleader doesn't want to date you. And "no" I will not explain my position.

This current situation would have been unavoidable no matter who was at the helm. They would have simply found reasons more acceptable to their base to in order to carry out the objective of securing American "capital" in the eastern markets. I've ejaculated my admittedly shaky theories all over the face of the Al Gore Memorial Super Information Highway on several occasions, and if you didn't find yourself privy, well then you're free to stop reading now and go off to cry in your cunt, sissy.

If you were ever capable of being honest with yourself, then take this opportunity to click on "system restore". For those of you who may have forgotten, it's located at the base of your neck right where your head enters your ass.

Someone who recently pushed this long dormant button was everybody's favorite mourning mother, Cindy Sheehan. She found herself in the unenviable position of losing her son and being thrown, almost simultaneously, into some sort of spotlight people often refer to as "media". Welcome or not, she took her painful loss and made "something" out of it. What exactly? Who knows. Every recently bathed individual* (Public Official*) she found herself standing next to decided to completely abandon any quiet promise they may have made to her just before the holiday weekend. And they picked the best ever holiday to do so, in my opinion. And they did it with  a level of "dark" I can mearly aspire to and never hope to achieve.

Used and abused just like anyone else who steps an inch into the political arena and allies themselves with those dirty polita-netians. The world is filled with assholes who try to make emotion the tool for change and the people who use them to do it. Whether or not her cause was just is a matter of two stark and, in my view, irrelevant opinions. Man, it was hijacked just like your momma's virginity - With nothing more than a cold smile and a false promise.

When that became clear to her she reacted in a fashion not typical of her past overbearingly emotional protests - A way that immediately leaves her with zero credibility with most of you. She attacked the system as a whole. Now she's just another "Mad Bomber" that refuses to see the "big picture". Another cynic. Another crummy martyr.

While those comments she made have a familiar ring of truth, they have only served to underscore the betrayal she suffered at the hands of those who find the practice of lying an acceptable means to their seemingly indecipherable ends. This was not the time to quit, this was the time to really ram it down all of their throats.

But, maybe that's too much to ask of someone who probably just began to really cool down and begin to accept her loss. And it's surely far too much to ask of someone who is still stinging from regret, after having put forth one of the most emotionally manipulative political movements in recent history. Oh , it's a super special kind of regret that comes from having your personal pain used to blind the masses to reason in order to score a super sweet set of rain checks to the grand pullout 2-day hippie music festival.

Those of us who seek some sort of real "change" (What is it? Ask yourself out-loud with a southern drawl.) would be best served to adopt a method of communication that doesn't involve manipulating one another. Forcing others to adopt loss that is not their own is not only dishonest, but it can make a person numb to the pain of others altogether - Which in turn makes for famous movie monsters, and even more infamous dictators.

Now this is gonna sound downright racist, but Politanetians are simply not trustworthy. I don't know if it's their culture or their upbringing, but they are a downright disgusting group of people. They all speak with the same stilted cadence and-and metaphorical logic. Bad suits and questionable hairdos that defy... Everything we have come to know about hair. Don't turn your back on them, oh no. They'll snatch out your heart and pin it to their sleeve. Press two for Politanetian? Fuck you I'm in a mericah dahmit - speak mehrican. Plus, they control all the banks ya' know.

That being said, I'd like to officially announce my candidacy for Grand Pooh-Bah (Wow, Gilbert & Sullivan references? Really!?! Wow, now that's gay.) of the People's Antarctican Democratic Republic Reform Initiative Ninja Alliance Committee Land Annex in '26.

Until then, I'm going home for awhile to try and be normal.

Everywhere I look I see actions and faces that all beg the same question...

Every day, just by getting up for work, you ask. Every time you sit in front of a camera and plead your case to the viewer, say "hello" to friends, hug your babies,  push down the weaker, or challenge the stronger. You may tell yourself you have other motives, but there is only one thing you really want – "The answer"...

"Why are we here?"

Do you know who you're talking to? Why would someone pose such a question to me, of all the bastards? Don't you know that I'm liable to give it to you?

You just keep reading. You're like a dirty little beggar, aren't you?

Language is far too inaccurate to answer such a question. The words we employ are clusters of information, complex mathematical equations used to map what the five (or six) senses gather. Words convey far too much information and rely far too heavily on personal perspective for us to share any kind of precise map of our view of the observable universe with others.

The best we can seemingly do for now is to gather along side those who share similar interests and experiences that we can more effectively communicate with and expand our map of "this".

Everyone is so fucking worried about the beliefs of others. You can't see beliefs, but everyone looks at them. When I look, I see "beliefs" as a personally reliable set of formulas by which I solve problems. However, your view of this may be different. Based on that observation, one might say the word "belief" itself, and all other words, share a relative existence.

What asshole forged the information packet to be labeled as such in all of its non-observable floating-point hyper dimensional glory? May we consider the idea that information, through the function of life (us), has become a part of the larger cause and effect "engine" of the universe itself?

It's "Happy Fun-Time" again.

Let's take some time, and think about the general belief in a "big bang" and how such an event started the train of "cause and effect" that connects directly to the information that flows into your head thereby effecting every single action you take, and how it lead to me typing such a question and you reading it.

Go ahead. Connect the dots from then to now as best you can.

Try doing it backwards… Do you see the "intelligence"? Wow, it's like looking in a mirror. If it led up to you, maybe it created you?

Maybe you should just quit now and except "him", coward.

No? He's not for you? Hmm...

Then let us take that previous observation and weigh it against the other popular belief that you have something called "free will".

Was it your decision to put such a "thing" inside of the "thing" that we call a mouth?

Are any of the decisions to do any of the things you did today your own, or did the "big bang" decide them for you? Do you really love anyone, or is it a release of energy from eons past that does it for you? Who's really fucking your wife?

Don't worry. That taste won't last long, oil and solvent gives that flavor when you mix them. Are you the one who's hesitant to end all of this?

What if the big bang is true and you don't actually have free will. If it's all fate then why bother? - Are you invalid now? Can you really bring yourself to just lie down and give-up? And if you did, is it really you who decided?

Does it matter? Now that the taste is gone it makes you wonder why something so smooth has such texture, or how something so un-yielding would need to be kept clean in such a way. What are we trying to protect?

The Father wants a "son", and the Puppet wants so bad to be a "real boy".

Sometimes, the cruelest of acts make the best teachers. So, is it an act of cruelty that it shatters your teeth; reminding you one last time what it meant to be alive just before it takes it all away?

Your fairy god mother is lying in an alley. Weighed down by your expectations and demands for truth; she pulls carefully and waits for a flash of red to put you in your place. You wait for safety, but she reaches out and takes it - but she can only take what she was given. It's like looking into a mirror, isn't it?

Has it enjoyed the time you've spent with it? Maybe it will find a way to reciprocate. Maybe, it's an act of kindness when the hammer finally strikes the back of the barrel.

So, you've changed your mind. Have you? Can you? Really... Don't you know that you'll never be a real boy if you continue to lie?

With so many answers coming all at once, and at such high speed, it's enough to tear it all apart from the inside.

It's okay. There's nothing to be done about it. Just go stand in your assigned group with your hands at your sides and wait to die, puppet. The maker has no real use for something mechanical as "you".

The father wants a real boy…

…But, a real boy is yet to be born...

...Well, you fucking asked…

…or did you?

I have never been one to feel patriotic, but I would like to take this opportunity to welcome back any of our fine military men and women who have returned home in these past few weeks. You guys and gals really are simply the best professional fighting force in the world.  Sure, some of you were just in it for the college tuition, or because your daddy was in it, or because you wanted to kill people – After all, let's not kid ourselves; we kill one another because it's fun. And still, some of you found something more. Maybe you found purpose in defending the people of the United States. Or, perhape you found the courage to lay down your very life to protect your fellow soldiers and to preserve the rights granted to all of us in the U.S. Constitution...

Yeah, about that… We're a bunch of filthy cowards, and we made a few changes while you were gone. Sure, no permanent changes were made, but only because that would take courage. No, we just sort of sidestepped a few lines. Bill of Rights? It's more like a bill for another skyscraper. I ride the train to work. I shop at the mall. My children ride the bus. If we only save but one life it will make it all worth while. Plus, rights are scary.

Great Zeus' ghost! What would Thomas Jefferson say if he were alive today?

"Mean people suck."

~Thomas Jefferson – Outside a Massachusetts Hot Topic, 2007.

Uh…Well… *ahem*

Now, Patrick Henry... There was a mega-badass. He must be spinning in his grave. I wonder what he would have to say about all of this if he were alive today.

"Give me some liberty… Not a lot, you know, whatever you can spare. Please, don't kill me. I mean, I just finished loading my iPod for Christ's sake. Do you know how long it took me to find the album artwork for the new Fallout Boy"

~Patrick Henry – while holding his spork aloft inside a Jimmy Johns, 2007.

That's right. If he were alive today, Patrick Henry would be both a giant pussy and a huge fan of Fallout Boy. Coincedence? Who do we blame for this lack of musical taste, this stunted sense of defiance?

Hey you, over by the apple pie. Yeah, I'm talking to you, mommy dearest. Stop with the "protect my baby at all costs" bullshit. Children are tiny people; not property, and not knick-knacks. The world could flip on is axis tomorrow. The sun could come down to run through your lawn sprinklers. I don't think any asshole that listens to Fallout Boy is going live too terribly long after that. And as for you, dads… I can't even look at you, pussy.

When you give away something that you didn't pay for… something that cost the blood of millions to purchase. You aren't protecting any one; you're handing your children a debt of blood. Many people died for what freedoms we have now. It only stands to reason that at least as many will die to get them back. But, I can't fault you for protecting your kids. When all is said and done, I truly wish you and yours the best. In fact…

Most likely, all of you reading this will die. So, why not just show a little patience? Why do you all have to know exactly what will happen? All of humanity is consumed with a culture of death. And no, I don't mean movies and music. I mean the way you all live your lives planning to die. Some of you spend your life giving all of your love and respect to a being that may or may not exist in hopes of spending all of eternity in a hippie hug circle. I'm sure God has all sorts of cool love-in type stuff planned for you.

Yeah, he sounds like a big fag to me, too.

Maybe the truth is God is your idea of the ideal lover. Maybe he's your twisted sense of what your ideal fuck would be. Have you seen yourself? What interstellar multi-dimensional being, who knows all of your true motives and desires, would fuck you? How could something like that love you? How could he love the things that you hate about yourself and others?


Well, of course. He must love everybody. God, what a fag.

Now I don't want to sound like a big hippie homo, but I think you're wasting a golden opportunity, a chance to love unconditionally here and now with those around you. Especially if your God loves and forgives anyway, why let all these friends and family go to waste? What if we're all you really have?

Oh, but you want to be loved back. Well, how the fuck can you really tell if someone loves you back? Are you a fucking mind reader? I'm touching my keyboard right now, I bet it thinks that I love it. If you want to be loved then have a baby and kick the living shit out of it for a couple of years.

I bet it will think you love it so much that you'll punch it twice to go along with the kick in the teeth it asked Santa to put under the tree for Christmas.

If you want absolutes, then I can't help you. Because, not only aren't there any, but you wouldn't except it anyway.  Not even science deals in absolutes. Even the most fundamental of scientific laws can be bent. Our culture, however, knows many "absolutes". This is probably the most fundamental difference dividing our little logical universe. Even Einstein saw the subjective nature of the universe.

You absolutists have a real chip on your shoulders. Anyone who stands contrary to your set of logically chosen absolutes, no matter how benign, is not only wrong, but your enemy.

Luckily for you, the convenience of the electronic age puts your enemies not feet from you. Why miss this chance to validate yourself even with the smallest of victories in front of a studio audience? Only a fag would pass on the chance to wound his enemy on camera. Luckily your sword lies close, forged by the love of God himself, and it's only a headline away. Go ahead young culture warrior, and take up your blade. After all, why would such a thing lie at your feet if God did not mean for you to take it up in his honor? You haven't forgotten how to unsheathe one of those already, have you? Come on! Simply place your thumb and forefinger just behind the ears and pull – it screams because it hasn't yet realized that "his" love is waiting on the other side. After you've struck down your… I mean, God's enemy and you're done with whoever that sword was, don't forget use it as an example of your enemy's failures. Take your sword forged in God's love, and hold it high and show everyone just how right you were.

Hey, you won. Don't you feel valid?

So, what did you get?

I guess you'll just have wait and see what God has waiting for you after all…

Bless his little faggot heart.