Wednesday, February 24, 2016

The Right Stuff

You can make a necklace out of your massacre victims freeze-dried cocks and name yourself the Horsegod if you want. There are places you can go and live that way if you have the charisma.  The fear of prolonged peace as womanly and decadent is as common in Millard as Mogadishu. Mogadishu draws in artists and eccentrics from hundreds of miles around same as any other million-plus city. I read of a micro-organic chef who moved back home there from Europe to start an upscale restaurant. It gets bombed for its very being every two months or so by the local factions and they're especially low tolerance for bouge. Rich kids discuss Kanye in the Mogadishu suburbs. Mogadishu DJ's make the people bounce while lasers dance upon burned-out Toyota's with mounted AK's. 

There is some truth to the slippery slope after all.  As I know that there is no devil and no hell the plain fact of it is that once I pass fifty or so I wouldn't have a thing to lose by murdering liquor store clerks for cash and I know that.

It's hardly my business to comment I realize, but Russel Means took an odd pride in following the old Lakota faith more purely than thou.  And I do know enough about it to know it has never really worked on 'purity' terms.  There is no pope of northern plains animism and no minute pretense of one true literal text for it. I know that their religion and ours both have skinhooks. It has been suggested that early humans were far more likely than not to have been eaten by predators before thirty; that the trans-cultural idea of sacrifice as good-in-itself flows from this somehow, that racism may have its origins when contact with different beings was in fact necessarily hostile. At least until we invented good weapons.  A state of being as only either the master or the meat as the plain fact of things.  "War of the Worlds" was written as an anti-colonial fable, and quite obviously so if you look at it.  Now we tell alien stories for assurance of how righteously fierce we'd be against unambiguously evil Strangers.

I once saw an interview with a man who took to murdering his wife and robbing banks so he'd have cash for nightly karaoke and prostitutes in a small Florida panhandle town. That was the dream he lived closet-normal through youth and middle age to keep hidden.  No passport, no ocelot no treasure hunt just the golden hits of Neil Diamond.  RIP Wife.

Russel Means also stated that claims of Aztec human sacrifice were a European lie meant to slander his indigenous.  There are many such but not this one. The Aztecs did indeed sacrifice the motherfuck out of lots of fucking people all the fucking time.  It was like an overripe satire of religion the way the way they carried on wasting motherfuckers just because it was Friday.  They were in fact "guilty".  They totally did do all that, is all that I'm saying.  RIP Motherfuckers.

And why knee-jerkingly defend them as part of "us" anyhow?  The Aztec Empire was exactly that; an urbanized, high-technology nation-state that preyed upon the actually indigenous as we do.  King David was a sex trafficking usurper warlord if he even ever was. Joseph sold his coat to be a totalitarian lackey.  The modern Israeli must surely know that they have more in common with the Muslims 'cross the wall than with vague patriarchs from a trillion yesterdays ago.  A dead Constitution. The intelligent embrace of bullshit for the idea of a transcendent We. The pitiful delusion of We. Every person must be our own spouse family nation and world but not of course are own eternity.  Of course they'll be none of that through any means at all.

Stop building statues of anyone for any reason. (I'm not a very big fan of headstones either tell truth.)  Stop naming anything for any person who physically was. Stop putting anything at all on money save the denoting digit itself. Stop treating the prospect of apocalypse coinciding with your own lifetime as if you are special for realizing the obvious.

I do not want the we that has been invented for my behalf but that doesn't matter.  I can join the Trotskyites or the tree spikers or the guerrilla farmers but I cannot unjoin The Illuminati.  I rarely bother to argue politics with my dad.  On one occasion when I did it was about restoring voting-rights to ex-cons; and it soon became clear that dad did not and would not examine this thing on its own terms.  That he instead chose to view it through a lens of crime being bad, therefore any arbitary hardship imposed on criminals being good, and support for this arbitrary pain as a character test of being really truly and purely against crime at all.

It occurs to me now that those who view being Tough On Crime in this abstract identity affirming manner have never really been concerned with the practical problem of minimizing crime. They needfully presume a steady and inexorable flow of crime; an eternal stream of Thugs to measure their own courage and righteousness against. It also occurs that those who keep this attitude do not have a democratic understanding of social rules; they do not see the rules as things that we are all to some degree both subject to and makers of. Those who punish with zeal do not see themselves as imposing rules upon themselves but as imposing rules on Other People that they see themselves as personally ruling. That's where the man at the bar who supports Guantanamo torture and rails against the tyranny of motorcycle helmets is coming from.  And it goes without saying that when my dad envisions himself as bringing down the fury on this murderer or that rapist he does not envision this murrapist as an aging blue-collar white man from the Pacific Northwest. And perhaps he is not completely wrongheaded in this envisioning after all.  The Karaoke man is a white male but he's from Ohio or abouts if I remember right.   

No comments:

Post a Comment