'Shaking Out The Man Inside Mike Dempsey'

I have nothing more to insert here. 

You Will Be Assimilated

The first noticeable changes shall be in your diet.  One day you will wake up to find that you still consider sushi to be exotic.  You shall be honestly taken aback that your servers at Mexican restaurants speak to you in Mexican accents. You will start to view any meal that is not at least half composed of red meat, including your rushed workaday breakfast, to be intolerably 'hippie'.  While a cup of coffee that tastes like anything will leave you astonished to the point of tears

The next step shall be the growth of a deep bitterness towards the elitist bastards who shop at Target' ordrink Michelob Light instead of Bud Light.  Soon after this you will start driving to places that you can see from your front window and assume out of hand that anyone who walks or bikes is a homeless drug addict.  You shall come to compliment you Black friends for how American they are, how refreshingly different they are from those ghetto kids with their pants around their ankles. 

It shall come to pass that you will be intimidated by any music which does not proclaim your day-to-day life to be the greatest glory of the universe.  You shall come to be disgusted by any film that does not tell you who the good and bad guys are, loudly and directly, over and over and over again.  You shall become vaguely aware that your own denomination is only one of many, yet still be mystified when you learn that other churches and even Jewish temples have fundamentally different practices and beliefs.  Any suggestion that the exploits of a twenty year-old quarterback are not objective proof of your own superior virtue can only be the ravings of the most banshee-screaming insane Satannazi lunatic. 

You find, in the very end, that you still do beleive in such a thing as secret Satanic indoctrination.  If Lady Gaga should come on the radio while you make your lunch, you shall be frozen in terror.  Convinced that at any moment now Satan shall compel you through backwards English (Fowards Arabic?  Have they been the same thing this whole time?!) to saw your own head off with your butterknife. 

You will be assimilated. 

Some Random Notes

Mayhaps this will come as obvious or pendantic to you, but delusions of omnipotence never cease to intrigue me.  Those who honestly consider omnipotence to be their natural state are faced with the problem of why they continue to suffer disappointment and defeat at the same rate as mere mortals.  They generally solve this problem by telling themselves that their own failure of will is the only reason they ever lose; or that it was some dark corruption from beyond the natural universe and its godly order that caused them to lose, or some combination of both.  I am fairly confident that President Obama will be reelected this year.  (Though I should be especially careful on this point to mention that I could be wrong.)  I am therefore also fairly confident that our political discourse will shortly be filled with stabbed-in-the-back myths more numorous and fantastic than even God has ever seen before.
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Um, people?    You seem to think that things are so far gone that even the GOP is allowing people from random foreign nations to address your convention.  No worries. 

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I warn you, fellow Nebraskans, that the cougar is more numerous, mentally developed, and technologically advanced than the human in every significant measure.  If we carry on with slaughtering the peasant class among them in this manner then we can do nothing but ready ourselves for that holocaust which will befall us. 

The Funny Has Got Me Thinking

Has an immediate family member of a major candidate ever publicly opposed their bid?         I've heard that Laura Bush is a Democrat.  Yet I'm sure the prospect of having her own eternal entourage inspired her to sincerely believe, or at least 'believe' that her husband was the right man for the job. 

Obviously one's upbringing has a very large influence on what beliefs they hold in adults.  It is also obvious, right-wing Borg fantasies aside, that opinions are not some genetic force of nature.  We would all be in eternal deadlock over the Missouri Compromise if that were the case.  There must have been someone among the hundreds of wives, children, and husband of major contenders who had some fundamental disagreement  with what their loved ones stood for, and kept their mouths shut out of wither loyalty; the prospect of privilege, or both.

At any rate the fact that it's SOP for family members to speak at conventions bothers me greatly.  As does the general public fascination with them.  These are common people of no more importance to the republic than your ex-con side cook.   I can accept the need for Secret Service protection.  Any action movie "we have your daughter*give us the codes" scenario obviously needs to prevented.  Otherwise the cultural deference and attention to these people is the most despicable royalist blasphemy and no more.   And as a Democrat I most especially include Jackie Kennedy and her 'Camelot' nonsense in that statement. 

(*  Now that I think of it.  It has been twenty years since we've had a sitting president with son(s).   George Bush the elder was the last one.  That's about as funny of a coincidence as it gets isn't it?  Perhaps some mystical judgement from the heavens against nepotism.  And it does call to mind the National Review's creepy attempt to build a 'Great Man' cult around Romney after the fact.) 

The First Husker Game is Saturday

The state fair is not in Lincoln anymore, which means there won't be quite the historical crush that Lincoln usually has. Still it will be crowded enough to where you had might as well watch the game, because, you're simply not going to be able to do anything else.  You had might as well start drinking before the sun goes down too, start off light of course; because again, there is nothing else that you will be physically able to do.  Oh the rhythms of life. 

One could, I suppose, tolly off to Omaha for the scene there, but by God you had better fucking well do that before Saturday afternoon; or else it would take you three hours and a full tank of gas.  We'll see how the new Antelope Valley project improves the crush of traffic coming from and then going to the northeast; if at all. 

I do in truth have something high-brow to do during game time.  I'll be at my Writer's Group, checking the score on my phone whenever it's polite to do so.  I do feel increasingly guilty about my love for this game and I know it's no excuse that it was bred into me.  So violent as to be physically worse for the players than cocaine, there is that.  And of course corruption that has always been endemic to the sport.  In the past the dirtiness could be thought away as somewhat endearing bullshit but recently of course it has revealed itself as at the level of truly evil and life-destroying. 

And yet, it will be Saturday in a college town.  There's no sense in trying to not notice it. You would have to live a solid four miles out from the city center, out with the bankers and the CEO's and Bo Pelini, to not be greeted with the sight of Husker fans stealing the neighborhoods' free parking and making the hike to their seats.  You had might as well join the party.  Even the bars that are generally hipsterish; Duffy's, Jake's, O'Rourke's will be catering to the mob out of economic neccessity.  These are the places with the good free finger food, sometimes.

I could, I suppose, turn my attention to soccer then I normally do.  Except that my main club, Celtic, faces a virtual walkover to the Scottish title after their primary rivals; Evil WASP Bastards FC, were kicked out of the league for buying players with Milton Bradley money.     So I guess that I'll be keeping it domestic for the Fall as per usual. 

I Have a Cold: Am Somewhat High on fever

Friends and family(Hey there if you're out there. Erm, Love it or Leave it?) will be glad to know that I have quit smoking for at least the duration of this illness.  Bronchitis has tried but so far failed to congest my air hose.  I am nothing if not filled with the most utmost concern for my health.  Not healthy but HEALTH in the same way that Moses is PROPHECY.  Afuckingmen. 

In my wondering thoughts I am currently filled with a passing obsession with sick food and what makes me good.  If a sore throat is part of what ails you than I don't know what to say.  You have to eat at least once a day and I know it's fucking dreadful.  I also know that they do make products akin to science-fiction protein paste at any number of facilities.  If you're the sort of person who has really fucking weird 'hook-ups' then that's the route I would take. 

If you're lucky enough to be free of an affected throat, as I am right now, then obviously the thing to do is to combine light with spice.  Spice and pung to the hilt;  chilles, cilantro, capsaicin.  Keep the mucus light and running and never mind social nicities. They should be irrelevant.  If you're employed by the sort of fuedal thug who expects you to come to work in such a state than you're better off on the dole anyway. So anyway, withing the parameters of spice. light, spice, hydration, and spice it seems clear to me that an ambitious serving of beef pho is by far the greatest minor illness food ever devised by mortals of any breed.  (If it was invented by mortals at all, I should say, this is far from clear.)  Reduce the amount of meat as your condition dictates.  Replace the beef with more, fucking, heat.  As much as you can stand; and you must surely know that there is only one way to stand more than you can.   Now here's some Asian porn for you; or for me.  It doesn't matter. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Booker T is Still Alive

I mean the 'Green Onions' guy.  And still under 70 too.  I did not know this. 

In honor of Neil Armstrong, here's some of the best 'Stanley Kubrick faked the moon landing' links.


"I am sure that 2001: A Space Odyssey is the only film in MGM history where the executives who funded the movie never scrutinized the film.

Why weren't they more interested in this very expensive endeavor?

Because MGM did not fund 2001, the US Government did.

Outside of the Front Screen Projection evidence, which I believe nails the fraud of the Apollo landings, there is other circumstantial evidence that forces the conclusion even more in the direction of Kubrick directing the entirety of the Apollo missions."

 

 

  In order to finance the space program through public funds, the U.S. government needed huge popular support, and that meant they couldn’t afford any expensive public relations failures. Fearing that no live pictures could be transmitted from the first moon landing, President Nixon enlisted the creative efforts of Kubrick, whose 2001: a Space Odyssey (1968) had provided much inspiration, to ensure promotional opportunities wouldn’t be missed. In return, Kubrick got a special NASA lens to help him shoot Barry Lyndon (1975).

 

 

 

 

"FACT: Rumor has it* that Apollo 12 astronaut Pete Conrad was going public about the fake Moon landings on the 30th anniversary back in July 1999. He was killed in a motorcycle accident one week before the 30th anniversary." 

 

 

(* Emphasis mine.  Just wanted to make sure you caught the funny.)

 

Anyways, it seems obvious, that a little 'Great Gig in The Sky' from DSOTM is the most appropriate sincere response to Armstrong's passing.  Wouldn't you agree? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday Life Alert: Or, Your Wedding Poem

Fertilization is murder and abortion is only a propellant. 
Fertilization is murder and every live birth is an abortion. 

We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless.  We will die and love is worthless. 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Oh Onion

Y'all are some beautiful motherfuckers. 

I Saw Bo Pelini Jogging

A very unimpressive mook-looking sort of guy, it must be said.  My mother saw him at her North Platte Catholic church one time while he was out recruting.  I didn't ask her it he was wearing the same gray t-shirt and sweatpants to church that he wears on national television; or while jogging, but I would guess that he probably does.  Why he was running on downtown streets, out where traffic can interrupt his cardio stimulation, instead of simply doing laps around what is essentially his stadium.....????  I guess famous people like to be famous, generally.  Like to be seen.

Old Age: Not Always Wizining

In fact, if one has gone through life with a general sense of entitlement, than the added expected deference of old age can be what pushes one across the threshold of stone crazy bitch. 

It wouldn't surprise me at all if this woman would feel justified in murdering someone who vandalized her property, but never mind.  She is obviously no believer in equal treatment.  If you're one of those uppity youngsters who thinks  you're too good for the true American way, than she is under no obligation to respect your property.  She was just teaching them a lesson is all, one that they will surely thank her spirit for once they grow old and wise like she is. 

I'm Experimenting

Trying to See if I can Memorize these lyrics accurately without looking them up.  Though I suppose I have no means at all of proving to you that I'm not.  Anyway...



Don't Start me Talking
I can talk all ni-ghht
My mind goes; sleepwalking
When I'm out putting the world to right
Call careers information
Have you got yourself an occupation?

'Oliver's Aremy are here to Staayyy!
Oliver's Army are on their waaayy!
And I would rather be anywhere else.
but, here todaayyy!!

There was a Checkpoint Charlie
He didn't crack a smile
But it's no laughing party
When you've been out on the Murder Mile
All you need is one itchy trigger
One more widow, one less White Nigger

Oliver's Army are here to stayyy.....

Hong Kong is up for grabs,
London is full of Arabs,
We can be in Palestine,
Overrun by the Chinese line
with the boys from the Mersey and the Thames and the Tyne.....

But there's no Danger!
It's a professional career!
One That can be arrainged...
with just a word in Mr. Churchill's ear!
If you're out of luck, you're out of work
We can send you to Johannesburg!!

Oliver's Army are here to stayyyy!........

Woah-oh-oh-Woahh!
Woah-oh-Woh-oh-Wohhh!

 

Well, This does Complicate Things.

Very much so.

I suppose it's not hard to understand why this Rodgers would do such a thing, if that's what she did.  Her life story, such as it is, is one of a person who grew to become accustomed to public admiration.  She played basketball for the South Sioux City girls, (one of the more dominant & high-profile high school programs this state has had in any sport,) pipelined to the Huskers from there, free to be as 'masculine' as her nature desired without too many dirty looks, and now barreling towards middle age as just another Near South misfit.  Still if it's heroic victimhood she wanted then why did she request anonymity?  We'll see what further twists might develop. 

The shadiness of this incident, along with last week's Family Research Council shooting, is starting to concern me greatly.   “I will be a catalyst. I will do what it takes. I will. Watch me.”  It would break my heart to see a cult of martyrdom or heroism arise in the gay rights or any other progressive movement.  This would first of all be the deepest possible betrayal of the whole idea; that life is self-justifying and institutions, causes, and beliefs exist to serve our lives instead of vice-versa. Second of all it simply makes you and whatever cause you represent look very stupid; as anyone who has seen Ted Nugent symbolically jerking off in eight different ways at the same time must well know. 

This ball shall roll where it will. 

I Was In Pioneers Park Once

It was a day much like this.  January, so at least thirty five degrees cooler, but still freakishly warm for the season.  Bright and dry yet with a crackling humidity.  The ground was thawing and everything smelled dirty wet.  I was in sandals near the Bison statue.  By the creek a few fly lava were buzzing, doomed.  It would freeze several more times that year.

I came across a dead raccoon at about the same time as a middle-aged woman in a red dress.  She pitied the fellow mammal and didn't want to leave it to just rot in the sun.  She asked me to pick it up and lift into a trash bag she had brought with her and I agreed.  It seemed like the decent thing to do; both for the animal and human help.  When I grabbed it's tail I found that it's flesh had already degraded to the consistency of warm custard.  My hands simply slipped until there was nothing left of the tail except some nerve ending or something.  The woman apologized and thanked me for my efforts.  My hands remained covered with meat for some time as the nearest bathroom was several hundred yards away.  Once there I found that it had no hot water.

I returned home, showered, and fasted for several hours; even though it was Sunday and I usually gorge on Sundays. For several days afterwards I was psychosomatic with the fear of catching whatever exotic microbe had killed the raccoon.  I turned out fine.  The coon I suppose was eaten by birds. 

Candor: Not Inherently Good, But Always Interesting

Here's someone over at American Thinker openly proclaiming "normal" to be the greatest cosmic good in the universe. 

Of course, it goes without saying that "Normal" here means primarilly 'White'.  Not just White of course; Also Male. also a willingness to constantly reinforce  the self-image and beliefs of his followers of authority. Also a Nietzchean willingness to dismiss suffering as self-imposed by whatever rationale availible; so as not to be infected with Smotherly compassion.  But mainly or course normal=White and that's that. 

Still it's so damn telling in so many different ways isn't it?  There's a hell of a lot of life that you're bound to miss out on, if you reflexively equate normal with good and weird with bad.  Surely it must get exhausting, to constantly dream up new dark conspiracies for why the ninety eight percent of humanity living by some other standard of normal are all being so deliberately evil. 

I'm a White man myself; blue eyed, blond haired, raised in a Christian household in a small Midwestern town, and I am not normal.  I am completely insane. There was probably a time, in my youth, when I was conciously trying to be eccentric for cheap rebellion's sake.  But I stopped having to try to be weird very long ago.  It's nothing that can be faked but I would say that it has greatly enriched my being on this earth.  

I can play normal for short periods, when it suits me.  I make a point of not putting my actual likeness on here or Facebook or any other of my online domains.   My personal friends who come here know how I look and if you are not one of them than I do not want you to know.  I want to sit at the end of a small town bar and have Real Normal Americans come to me with perfect assurance of shared perspective about the Good Old Days before Those People ruined everything. 

Not Much Today: I'll Just Leave This Here

 "A uterus that has been attacked or divided into several parts can, given enough time, regenerate the lost tissue and develop rudimentary powers of speech (Spanish only)"

I Don't Blog of My Personal Life All the Much.

But I should have made some mention of these people before now. 

This is my tribe of bohemian elitist degenerates... 

We've been renovating the downtown Lincoln studio where we do at. I took no pictures, either before or after.  Still it strikes me as important enough to make some quasi-public mention of it. 


In other news, heaven is real, because a child says so.  The boys hometown newspaper, (The Imperial Republican, via Nor. Platte Bulletin) reports the following as straight journalistic fact. 

During emergency surgery Colton slipped into heaven, survived and began talking about meeting a miscarried sister and his great grandfather, who died 30 years before Colton was born.

Colten's family, the Burpos, have apparently made very good bank out of their sons's not quite dying.  All for the glory of the Lord.   I've heard nothing about them before, prhaps I should have?  Anyway they seem pretty solidly fundy, believing in an 'infallible' Bible etc.   It is certainly forbidden to imagine such a thing as a child coma-dreaming about the only things his parents ever talk about.  Unless you hate children and like to scream 'liar liar' to their faces until they cry. 

“When you talk about heaven or faith in this world, you can count on a negative reaction, but you can’t wish away God,”

I've never tried to, for the same reason that I have never tried to wish-away the laser-spitting insectoid men. 

Because I love those motherfuckers. 

Poe Hauntings.

If this is some pranksters" idea of a joke, it's a very good one.  Though still nowhere near as funny as it would be if it's earnest. 

"Dogs are known for their loyalty, making them one of the most conservative pets. Dogs represent Real America; they are often found on farms in red states and not in cities, where liberal apartment rental agreements often prevent renters from having dogs. Dogs are an important part of family values, as the quintessential American family is often featured with a dog. Dogs also are often used to search out Muslim terrorists, serving America honorably in the army and police forces across the county.
Compared with lazy, entitled cats, dogs represent the epitome of a conservative animal. Historically, dogs earned their role in the home through hard work herding animals and assisting men with hunting. Cats, on the other hand, were worshiped as false idols in ancient societies and do little to earn their keep in the home. Liberals often use dogs to their political advantage - Barack Hussein Obama keeps a dog in the White House. This is clearly a liberal ploy to win over dog owners in crucial swing states. In reality no true dog would voluntarily be a part of the liberal propaganda machine, especially given how many liberals are atheist and the proven link between atheism and bestiality."



It's true enough, I suppose, that dogs do tend to be theatrically submissive towards authority, knee-jerkingly hostile towards outsiders, and absolutely obsessed with private property.  So maybe this person could be on to something if they could only resist the rhetorical orgasm; and what a tragedy that would be. 

......................................................................................................................................................................

In personal news my sleep last night was disturbed with some very real nightmares, if you can call them that.  I mean, there was no hellish experience of doom or entrapment. Just, running footsteps and whispered 'heys' outside my window all through the deepest part of the night, along with a knowledge telling me over and over again that this was the Land Of Eternal Autumn. 

Of course it was ghosts.  I mean, I don't beleive in ghosts.  I am proud to be a modern Materialist, liberated from every form goblin, god, devil, and anyother form of Hoodoo bullshit.  If I ever heard that you, dear reader, had made the slightest hint of a suggestion that I beleive in ghosts I would be insulted to the point of wanting to fight you. 

 These guys were obviously long-dead Natives.  I mean every modern rationalist knows that any ghost is always that of a dispossessed person.  They cannot physically hurt you but they can act as Harpies to steal the oppressor's sleep, or drive him maybe half-mad if he's especially sensitive, and gain some cheap satisfaction for themselves in that way.  I myself, rationally speaking, must surely have dozens of Polish ancestors walking as ghosts through the only towns they have ever been for all these centuries. But this doesn't mean that I could ever be a ghost myself. 

It is self-evident, to all enlightened people, that the priveleged can never be ghosts.  Or at least, not ghosts that can move around and interact with flesh.  Rather we can only be stuck awake in our coffins while voices all around admire us for how much our stones cost or how many things we have. 

Speaking of Royalty and It's Skeptics.

Um, people, you seem to not have noticed this before; but 'Song of Fire & Ice' is just a wee bit cynical towards traditional right-wing ideals of  'Great Men', patriarchy in general, martial glory, moral absolutes, tribal supremacy, fetishized loyalty cults; etc, etc.  So yes, is spite of the WASPy name,  George R.R. Martin, is in fact one of 'THEM'.   No. He is in fact one of US.  And we, we are LEGION, and we are coming for you even as you sleep unawares. 

Then again; that's exactly how you want it right?  A righteous remnant who are at the same time both constantly triumphant and , all the same, still forever imperiled?

"The hat is the standard commie worker's hat."   (From comments.) 

So that would be a yes then.  Very well.  If that's what makes you folks happy then I am nothing if not the servant of my fellow man's happiness.  Here you go. 

"Debout, les damnés de la terre
Debout, les forçats de la faim
La raison tonne en son cratère
C'est l'éruption de la fin
Du passé faisons table rase
Foule esclave, debout, debout
Le monde va changer de base
Nous ne sommes rien, soyons tout
|: C'est la lutte finale
Groupons-nous, et demain
L'Internationale
Sera le genre humain!"

"Il n'est pas de sauveurs suprêmes
Ni Dieu, ni César, ni tribun
Producteurs, sauvons-nous nous-mêmes
Décrétons le salut commun
Pour que le voleur rende gorge
Pour tirer l'esprit du cachot
Soufflons nous-mêmes notre forge
Battons le fer quand il est chaud
|: C'est la lutte finale
Groupons-nous, et demain
L'Internationale
Sera le genre humain!"

"Ouvriers, paysans, nous sommes
Le grand parti des travailleurs
La terre n'appartient qu'aux hommes
L'oisif ira loger ailleurs
Combien de nos chairs se repaissent
Mais si les corbeaux, les vautours
Un de ces matins disparaissent
Le soleil brillera toujours.
|: C'est la lutte finale
Groupons-nous, et demain
L'Internationale
Sera le genre humain !!!!"

 

I Had a Dream That my Family didn't Know who Prince Philip Is.

This struck me as very odd. I'm not particularly interested in the British royal family.  In fact as a Yankee left-winger from a Catholic family with a dash of Irish I do feel some vague moral duty to hate them.  They do seem to be somewhat circumscribed, boring people from what I've seen on TV.  But that's not enough to make me hate them as this weird part of me says I should, and of course what's on TV is all obsessively sanitized theatre anyway.  The lack of personality is intentional.  I know this.... Ultimately though I cannot obey the self-righteous demon telling me to hate the Windsors.  Because there's a sort of prog-rock quality in lines of succession or ancient blood loaths of loyalty that appeal to me somehow.  I guess it's nothing worth thinking about too hard anyway.  Considering that we Americans did famously tell the Empire to fuck off long before anyone else.  Quite a hell of a long time ago indeed now too.

Just Found Out These Guys Exist(Ed:) And Seriously Need To Lighten the Hell Up

"And for what I believe I'm willing to die to free those enslaved I'll take a life. Won't shed a tear, I know I am right, and if I am caught, I'll pay the price"

I'm cool with Veganism myself.  Though I myself am not one, at all.  And I've never had much stomach for those more-manly-than-you yet constantly threatened types who consider the mere existence of vegans and veggies to be some claim of moral superiority to their own diets.  Not everyone eating a wheatgrass salad with their lattes thinks that they're better than you or hates the American rancher fellas.  Though, apparently, there are some of them that do.  And they don't care much for latte drinking either :(,    or alcohol,:(   or casual sex, :(,  or legal abortion, :(.  or tobacco (Ehh, I really should quit) I mean, I can only assume that the 'Hardlines' have little choice but to self-segregate in their own enclaves simply to put on the shows that no one else could possibly want to go to.  And if you were to ask me what they ask me what they... do; when the shows over and it's two o'clock on Saturday morning.......

Planning to install the reich I suppose.  And always in an air of perfect, perfect, absolute seriousness.

Still Haven't Thought of Something all That Moving

Except; well, there is, directly across from me, in this very lab, a blond woman of abouts 22-30 with a very expressive face, wearing a torn Pink Floyd 'Dark Side' tour shirt exposing some kind of tattoo where her very well-tanned shoulder meets her chest.  I intend to talk to her about what I would like to do right now.  Goodbye then dear reader. 

I Might Have Something to Say Later Today Maybe

In the meantime here's Mother Angelica on how to avoid Purgatory. 

And here's Frank Black's 'Los Angeles.

As For Olympic Basketball

USA did sweep the golds, though the Men just barely so, as I somewhat expected.  There was some attempt to gin up controversy over claims by Kobe and other's on this years team that they could beat the hagiofied 92 team.   But I don't think all that many people bought into it. (That is, bought into the media encouragement to be shocked or outraged by such audacity.  Most people seemed to have accepted the claims as the meaningless 'Perfect Confidence' boilerplate they were.  Then again, the talent gap between the two squads isn't near great as that of the Mavs over the Warriors in 07.)

It's inevitable, I suppose, that the quality of the world game will only better and better in the future.  So that eventually the US men will find themselves in the same position as the Brazillian soccer team; still enjoying enough of a talent advantage to always be the favorite, yet faced with such a depth of good teams that not even the favorite has anything close to a 51% chance of winning the brass.  This is bound to happen while I'm still alive, and I like to think that I'm enough of an evil left-winger to accept that this is no threat to my own Purity of Essence.  Still it's going to feel very strange to see USA basketball lose on the reg.  Very weird indeed. 

I Didn't go to 'Maha'.

I went to Lincoln Rib Fest and saw a bunch of Randell Flagg clones sing Eagles songs.

Rib Fest is a street festival thing that happens here every August.  It's only four dollars to get in and then you have to pay triple the market for a beer or a plate of ribs.  Pretty typical small-city R&R, and also heavily invested in and promoted by our big-ag overlords.  But hey, that's not always a bad thing, and the ribs truly are delicious.  Several quality outfits come up from as far away as Australia f and you're free to gorge yourself until you shit red meat like a tiger if you want to. 

When I went there late Friday night I was rather drunk* and the "Salute To The Eagles" pictured above were on stage.  They were awful, mixing in the standard Eagles pap like "Desperado"  with some Henley and Joe Walsh solo stuff. (Though Walsh, it must be said, is very much the diamond in that rough, "Rocky Mountain Way is decent and the solo at the end of "Hotel Cali" which these guys naturally closed with, is genuinly good.)  But more to the point I found these guys to be deeply alien and frightening in my haze.  They were to a man paler than dead Swedes and decked out in those tacky black longcoats.  They were also decked out in face mics instead of stand up ones, which created a ghost effect of not being able to tell who was singing and who was just giving a stage smile.  Devil men with bad taste is the operating theme here, and that's really all there is to say about that.  Anyway how were Garbage? 


(Security seemed to be made up mainly of attractive older women concerned only with making sure that no one sneaked under the gate without paying.  I may have asked one of them for her number or maybe not.  I don't recall.) 

For My Weekend Wrapup I Wish to Emphasize.

Photographs of Biscuits & Gravy are pure high-grade porn, except more erotic.  It is my honest hope to inspire you into getting stumbly drunk tonight simply so you may have the pleasure of curing your hangover with some B & G.  My God but I love you so Fucking God Damn much.  Always remember, brothers and sisters, that life is nothing but diamond in the back, sunroof top,  ethanol, and protein with the gangster lean. 

I have also just happened to remember how much I love this fucking jam.  Right now I'm just feeling preternaturally happy for reasons that are alien to even myself.  I am emotionally affected by weather pretty hard, and this day on the Prairie is simply... perfect.  Perfect in a way that anyone who has lived to adulthood and experienced real pain would normally find impossible.  Yet all the same my mother gave me a life to experience this; this time right now in this beautiful and peaceful time and place.  I honestly just want to cry for joy right now; for reasons that... no reason at all.

WOOT!

And we don't even like your commie girls game!

(Well, not good Americans anyway.  I am a deviant.)

 

Sometimes

I still send out my Oregon Trail characters without any supplies and force them to travel at full speed until they starve to death.  This gives me a pleasure that I am unable to describe to you with any real accuracy. Nor would I feel any moral compulsion to do so even if I could. 

They can make it a surprisingly long way, pretty close to the forks of the Platte. 

Synchronized Swimming

Is God damn horrifying. 


I remember how the Igbo in 'Things Fall Apart'; would consider twins to be cursed and leave them to die of exposure.  Not a very nice thing to do obviously, but not incomprehensible either.  I understand fully. 

Attention Missiouri

You already had the freedom to pray in public before.   And liberals still have the freedom to
roll our eyes right in your face if you do so loudly or obnoxiously. Still I honestly think it's kind of cool that you voted in favor of nothing. I'm sure Andy Warhol is smiling down on you from somewhere.

This is My 300th Post on This Blog

This is Abba's 'SOS'.......

This is a man who smoked a cougar.......

This is the  'Hand of God' game from the 1986 World Cup.........

  

This is 'Manos: The Hands of Fate'.......

This is something that I honestly don't know is sincere or not......

And this is how I feel about you; dear reader.  



Damn

USA/Canada in woman's olympic soccer was impossibly awesome.  I am most  definitely a better, more vivacious person for having watched the last hour of it.

Yeh yeah we won.  Yes we did. 

The Growing Restlessness of White Male Assholes

Details in the Milwaukee slaughter are still unsettled.  The suspected killer Wade Micheal Page, is unavailable for questioning on account of being dead.  So it will be that much harder for authorities to figure out if he was acting alone or as part of some larger White Supremacist plot, if he knew exactly who he was killing or if he had confused his Sikh victims for Muslims.  (There was a good deal of this going around in the harassments that immediately followed 9/11.  Leaders in politics and media worked gamely and admirably to inform people that Muslims are not the only people on earth to wear turbans. No more so than my personal admiration for boss fedoras makes me Jewish.  And in truth they did seem to mostly settle this matter pretty quickly.  Still there are a few diehards committed to the idea that White American men can never be mistaken or wrong.)

Still it isn't all that terribly important if Page knew precisely who he was murdering.  Six of our compatriots are dead for exercising their freedom of worship and assembly.  The man who did it is a traitor, a traitor who it can may be safely assumed was acting out of rage of not having a rarefied social status bequeathed to him for simply being a White man.  His act was simply the logical extreme of the contemporary far-right (and increasingly mainstream right) narrative which holds that 'Real Americans' are by nature invulnerable, omnipotent, Heroic and always triumphant soldiers against cosmic evil, and above all else always in perfect absolute control over ourselves, our families, and 'Our' society.  This narrative further explains that our degradation to the state of mere mortals must only be the result of some unnatural, outside corruption, that we are only one Great Triumph away from defeating this corruption and regaining our rightful glory if only we vote GOP, assert Christian dominance of the public square, always keep a fatherly eye out for the commies and the queers and the Muslims under the bed, always carry our divinely-endowed firearms wherever we go so that we may battle against deviance wherever it may arise. 

One sees this mindset quite clearly in Russell Pearce's (Nazi chowderhead from Arizona, well one of them.) response to the Aurora massacre, lamenting that there wasn't at least one other armed Great American Individual  in the theater who would have been able to take Holmes out.  Never mind the logistics of picking out the right bad guy in a dark and panicked theater and then aiming correctly.  True Americans are supposed to believe that we are all instinctively heroes, endowed by fate to fight evil and win.  This childish claptrap is very upfront and obvious in American gun culture, and as is the case with Pearce  there are strong and numerous links between gun culture, white supremicism, anti (ILLEGAL!!!!) immigrant hysteria, or just dull contempt for the "dirtiness" of our multi-ethnic big cities.   Certainly this valuing of the second amendment as far more important than freedom of speech, thought, association, action is a product of history.  Not the history of one true 'original' meaning to the Constitution, but rather centuries of history in which White Americans were taught to equate liberty with the social power and exceptional status among men that we have been led to believe is ours by birthright.  We may no longer be explicitly taught that we are entitled to this power for being White, but we certainly are encouraged to beleive that we have been savagely wronged if we don't have it.  Buying a gun or ten and putting oneself at permanent war against criminals terrorists or whatever polluters of our essence one is able to dream of is a means of giving oneself license to assert this power.  For the greater good.  So Our Children Can Be Safe.  Naturally. 

In other news, someone in Missouri set a Mosque on fire.  Again.   Those of us who are proud to be children of a mongrel nation have some work to do.  Those of us who love the United States for what it is (instead of the horseshit John Wayne jerkoff fantasy of tiny little blockheads) are probably going to have to make ourselves ready to kick an ass or three.  So be it.  These clowns only think that they're tough; and the last time they tried to seriously act upon their insistence of being tougher than us.....



The Sober Bloomers are Coming to Town

The Woman's Christian Temperance Union will be having its national convention here in Lincoln this Tuesday to Saturday.  Their choice to locate here can probably be explained by the 1920's WASP 'Nativist' sentiment that has historically controlled Lincoln, and though that sentiment has greatly faded and continues to fade one can still find echoes of it in our infrastructure, architecture, (Even for a moderately big town, there are a hell of a lot of churches here.  Seriously, a lot.)  and even the attitudes of some old timers.  In other words, the old mindset is just like the WCTU itself; faded, weakened, but not well and completely dead just yet. Now they bring their political and social ideals to the third most binge-drinkingest city in the United States.  They are of course perfectly in their liberty to do so.