Archive for the 'Political Whingings' Category

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Nihilists for the GOP


Welcome to PAC to end all PACs!

Nihilists for the GOP (NGOP) is working hard to support the extreme right wing of American politics. We will not stand for half-measures; we are completely dedicated to the swift, immediate institution of every policy championed by the most extreme elements of the right-wing lunatic fringe.

Herpa-derpa-doo!

Now, some of you may say, “Are you out of your fucking mind? These people are crazy and their politics are wacked!”

Well, maybe we are crazy. Crazy like foxes!

Let’s face some hard political reality here: the right wing in the United States has sent us teetering on the brink of disaster time and time again. Too often, we are pulled back from the brink by rational thinkers.

These efforts to rein in the crazy train do little more than cause America’s downward spiral to slow down a little bit. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to drown, I’d rather it be done quickly than drag on forever.

We have another solution: total immersion.

That’s why we’ve formed the NGOP.

Our primary goal is to hasten the catastrophic collapse of the United States. By giving the reins of power to the most incompetent and deluded candidates, we foresee a speedy failure of the economy, an orgy of war and destruction and the utter demolition of public life.

Out of this abyss will arise a New America. An America humbled and determined to forge a new path.

I'm Rick Santorum and I love the NGOP!

We cite historical precedents:

- Germany. After WWI, she hemmed and hawed under a Weimar government while communists and fascists jockeyed for power. It wasn’t until the rise of the Nazis and the bloody aftermath that she was quickly brought low. What emerged was the most powerful and peaceful democratic government in European history.

- Japan. After thousands of years of tumult, a corporate/military bully-state emerged. Like Germany, she quickly devolved into a monster and was soon shattered in a hail of nuclear fire. Within a decade, she emerged as the most powerful and peaceful democratic nation in Asia.

- The USSR. After 70 years of brutal Soviet control, the corruption and lies reached a crescendo. Tiny chinks in the Party armor became gushing torrents of public unrest as ultra-conservative Party members staged an idiotic coup. While comparatively bloodless, the collapse of the Soviet Union shows how a few bad men in the right places can lead a nation to utter failure and subsequent rebirth.

The poet Peter Sinfield wrote, “To mount up high you first must sink down low.”

The NGOP is determined to see America brought low so we may one day mount up high.

But to do this, we need your help.

Here’s what you can do:

- Support only the dumbest, most deluded right-wing fringe candidates.
– Volunteer for their campaigns and/or donate generously to them.
– Join Free Republic and Stormfront. Post often. And loudly.
– Convince your friends and neighbors to support the most extreme right wing candidates and policies.
– Belittle and discourage any rational policies or candidates.
– Wave the flag. Mindless nationalism is key to hastening the utter collapse of society.
- Give generously to the NGOP!

We hope you can join us.

Together, we can make it happen.

No one can guarantee success. But we can guarantee failure. And right now, we need failure and we need it fast.

It may seem counter-intuitive, but the NGOP seeks support from all shades of the political spectrum. We want left-wing college professors, concerned stay-at-home Moms and no-nonsense blue collar Joes to stand as one. We want them to work together and orchestrate the final destruction of the United States. We need them to vote for Tea Party/Heritage/PNAC Republicans. We need them to donate to the NGOP.

Onward, Christian Soldiers! Once more, into the breach!

Without ashes, there can be no Phoenix!

All donations for the NGOP can be made c/o this website. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

I Slam, You Slam, We All Slam for Islam!

Muslims walkin' the walk in Mecca.

Today is September 11th. The nation is awash in remembrances of that awful day, so I won’t add to the million-fold choir. Instead, I’d like to talk about the undercurrent of today’s mourning: Islam and America’s relationship to it.

Since Americans are woefully ignorant of Islam, let me set the stage by whipping together a quick history lesson on the subject.

Around 610AD, a guy named Muhammad was hanging out in a cave in what we now call Saudi Arabia. He was a religious fellow who was into meditation and religious thought. He was well aware of Judaic thoughts and teachings as well as that upstart Christian ideology. He liked all this stuff, and he wanted to figure it all out. There had to be a higher finality to all this stuff.

One day, he was chillin’ in his cave when the angel Gabriel appeared and told him to stop moping in that stupid cave and go forth to proclaim the glory of God. This freaked him out, as you can well imagine. But after the initial shock, he put his nose to the grindstone and began writing the early Qur’anic verses.

I like my head, so here's a representation of "Muhammad".

All that time spent cogitating in that cave really paid off. Muhammad wrote all kinds of things about history, ethics, Abrahamic law, best practices for eating and living, interesting parables, rules for family life and all the other things that make religion such a pain in the ass to follow. Most of all, he wanted everyone to know that God (Allah) was One. No trinities, no spirits in the rocks, no angry musclemen throwing lightning bolts from the clouds.

Allah, he figured, is the same True God (Yahweh) that the Jews worship, and is also the Being Incarnate of Christianity’s Holy Trinity. He is The One (not Neo), and it was pretty damn important to Muhammad that everyone knew this.

The prophet business is tough, but Muhammad was tougher. Just like Moses and Jesus before him, he built a core audience of fans then started spreading the Word far and wide. And like Moses and Jesus, this didn’t sit well with the entrenched authorities.

Sometimes you have to coax people into submitting to God.

His new religion was called Islam, which translates roughly to “submission”, a way of life that involves submission to God in all of one’s actions and duties. It’s a concept not far removed from the other religions of the day, but Muhammad was uncompromising in his emphasis on submitting oneself to God’s will. And not just on Sundays.

Eventually, Muhammad and Islam clashed with the powers that be. Rather than bore you (and me) with the details, suffice it to say that battles were won and lost throughout the Middle East until eventually the forces of Islam conquered all.

In his dotage, Muhammad had not only established a new religion as commanded by the angel Gabriel, he also unified the Arabian tribes of the Middle East into one coherent civilization. He really went out on top.

Before he shuffled off his mortal coil, Muhammad appointed four dudes to carry on his work. He called them “caliphs”. They would be the primary bureaucratic leaders of the new empire. To this day, the Sunni Muslims consider the original four caliphs and their descendants to be the true line of continuity for the faithful. The Shi’ite Muslims, however, feel that one of the four, a dude named Ali, was actually the bestest and truest caliph of them all, so they pay homage only to the hereditary line of Ali.

If this is starting to sound familiar to you, it’s because it is familiar to you.

Thirty Years War.........................War in Bosnia.......................The Troubles in Belfast

I won’t re-hash the Byzantine split from Rome, the Lutheran Reformation, the Puritan persecutions, the emergence of Zionism or the medieval Crusades or all the other sectarian craziness that has been waged in the name of religion. Let’s face it: if it hasn’t splintered into different warring factions, it isn’t really a proper religion, is it? Instead, this being 9/11, I’m going to narrow it down to what’s on everybody’s mind nowadays: Islam. Sorry to pick on you, Islam, but today you’re in the hot seat.

Back to our story: Islam flourished in the Middle East and eventually, a Turkish dude named Osman (Donny Osman, I think) put together an army of kick-ass light cavalry and founded the Ottoman Empire. These Musselman pushed all the way to Vienna, which scared the shit out of Christianized Europe. The schism between Muslim East and Christian West would continue for five hundred fucking years, until the Ottomans were dismantled (along with the Austro-Hungarian Empire) at the end of WWI.

For a brief moment, it seemed like there might be peace in our time. Islam still flourished in the Middle East and Africa, while Christianity ruled the West, albeit with a sprinkling of Jews here and there. The Crusades and the Great War were an embarrassment to enlightened Christians and Muslims alike. You do your thing, we’ll do ours, from now on.

But then…

Motherfuckin' oil, bitches!

One could argue that WWI was really the first oil war, with the West desirous of easy shipping access to the Middle East. It seems unlikely that some Serbian punk shooting a feathered archduke should plunge all of Earth into war. But it did. Why? Because the West and Russia had a common ambition: access to Ottoman territory. How to get it? Foment a war with those swarthy bastards and win it.

There’s ample evidence that Gavrilo Princip, the Serbian punk who shot Austria’s archduke Ferdinand, was tasked for the assassination by a group of Bulgarian criminals. These Bulgarian dudes had regular back-channel communication with…the court of the Russian Czar. Something may smell in Denmark, but it really reeked in Bulgaria.

Conspiracy theories aside, it seems quite clear that the dismantling of the Ottoman Empire opened up Mideast oil to the western powers. Pretty soon, Britain, France and Russia were making nicey-nice with the weakened states of the Middle East. They even started propping up otherwise unremarkable princes and creating new countries for them to rule. Iraq? Kuwait? They were created from whole cloth on a map, their borders designed to  divide oil assets, not demographic strata. Shi’ite? Sunni? What the fuck ever. Just shut up and keep the oil flowing.

Then came the American ascendancy. By the 1960′s, America’s insatiable thirst for oil outstripped its ability to produce. The solution was obvious: do like the Europeans. Leverage power in the Middle East and suck the deserts dry.

Our partner in peace.

Now, you can say a lot of things about Middle Eastern leaders. They have outdated mustaches, they wear funny hats, they bathe too often and they eat way too much goat. But you can’t call them stupid. They saw the West’s plan for them and they didn’t like it. In defiance, they formed OPEC: the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries. This cartel was formed to protect the economic interests of these comparatively weak powers against undue predation by the likes of Europe and the US.

They had the power to control oil production, which in turn affected speculative prices. Thus, they were essentially able to fix the price of oil. It’s kind of like being WalMart, except you get lots of armies and cool warplanes, too.

Oil is a business, and this also meant working closely with huge oil companies. And would you like to guess what happens when you closely align autocratic governmental power with corporate greed? Did you guess “ungodly corruption”? My, you’re a smartie!

The oil-rich states of the Middle East became corrupt bastards. While many of them used their tremendous oil wealth to improve public life for their people, they typically turned a blind eye to grinding poverty among the lowest of the low.

Most governments do the same thing, but in an Islamic state, the dismissive attitude is particularly galling to the rank-and-file Muslim. After all, they’re supposed to be submitting themselves to Allah, not to Exxon.

The lowest of the low, in kid form.

Your leader is a super-rich douchebag in league with corporate scumbags from the United States. Your imam tells you to submit to God, that all your earthly activity should be in this endeavor. Does it look like those who hold sway over your life are obeying the imam, obeying God? Not likely.

Then, you read about a new Jewish state in the Mideast being bankrolled by the United States. You may not really give a crap about Jews; you probably never met one. But when you read about the occupation of Palestinian lands, things start coming together. Super-wealthy leaders + Western corporate power + Israeli occupation of Arabs  + historical also-ran status + golden oil opportunity slipping away = desperation and anger.

For most Muslims, this calculation was just a daily digest that they swallowed, albeit bitterly. Kind of like how Americans know about rotten corporate lobbying and the evils of the military/industrial complex, but they just suck it up and move on to the next hurdle in life. You can’t get all worked up about this shit or you’ll go crazy.

...and this guy really did go crazy.

In Muslim Africa and Indonesia, these geo-political intrigues didn’t really mean very much. But in the Middle East, shit was starting to boil over. In Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Iran, Iraq and the Arab states, small, angry groups started to get bigger and more vocal. National governments tried to squash these overly-religious troublemakers, but it’s kinda hard to persecute religious fanatics when your entire republic is founded on the institutionalization of that religion.

There are many routes to success. If you’re a little guy and you need to make your viewpoints known, you have options. You can form a group of like-minded individuals and spread the word. You can pool some resources and publish a book or three. You can leverage your meager successes to bankroll even bigger things, maybe a film about your struggle. If that seems to resonate, you’ll probably end up in the mass media. You’ll have a chance to really make that change.

Conversely, you can just start killing people.

Now, killing people shouldn’t be your first move. It’s frowned upon. But to crazy people, it seems like a good first option because it’s so darn effective at getting attention. Negative attention, for sure. But you can’t make an omlette without breaking a few eggs, eh?

What an ill-considered political statement may look like.

I’m not writing all this to excuse those evil fuck-wits who attacked the United States on 9/11 and who continue to perform outrageous acts of mass murder all around the globe. These people need to be found, isolated and destroyed, full stop.

What I am saying is that their religion, like many religions, is an excuse for their barbarity, not the source of their barbarity. Osama Bin Laden was  a very wealthy man. He had more options than most of us. He could have single-handedly begun a global dialog about grievances and problems. When you are smart and eloquent – and when your cause is just – you inevitably get heard.

If he had written a book, I’d have read it. If it made sense, I’d have defended it. If it had a road map to a better world, I’d have followed it.

But he didn’t write a book. His doctrine does not resonate with reasonable people. Even though his countrymen may have legitimate grievances, he completely fucked their plight, as well as ours.

Islamic extremists of every stripe are fuck-ups. They are incapable of reasonable exchange. That’s why they rely on terror. They offer nothing that the world wants. And it’s pretty ironic, considering the fact that the world wants change. It wants fairness and it wants justice. You’d think we’d all be clamoring to join their cause. But we don’t. We don’t because their cause is the mirror image of the cruel, vindictive, greedy evil bastards they despise. They can’t replace the evil elements in power because they are evil elements themselves.

If the US is bankrolling rotten Saudi leaders and a disliked Israeli state, let’s air that shit out. Let’s change the system from within. Let’s wear a tie and run for office. Let’s boycott. Let’s get the most people on our side. It works. From Ghandi to King to the fall of the Soviet system, a just cause with an eloquent voice can change the world.

Bombing innocent people? That’s for evil fucks. And these evil fucks will be defeated by more Ghandis, more Kings and more Russian nobodies who finally stand up and say “enough is enough from you fucking assholes”.

On this 9/11, I’m not in mourning. I’m just angry that our noblest impulses have been transformed into childish anti-Islamic crapola. We had a golden opportunity in the wake of 9/11 to unify the world and create a whole shitload of Ghandis and Kings. Instead, we went full retard and created armies of Osama Bin Ladens.

The people that died on that day aren’t calling from the grave for revenge. They are calling from the grave for a stop to the madness. They want a solution, not a war.

Muslim Americans have an interesting quirk: they are statistically likely to be law-abiding taxpayers and contributors to the nation. They tend to be educated and revere education. Like other religious folks, they can compartmentalize their religious lives into the American way of life. How many Islamic street gangs are there, selling crack and shooting up neighborhoods? How many American Muslim drunks come roaring out of bars and start fistfights in the streets? How many American Muslims roam the night, burglarizing houses and smashing windshields?

Almost none.

America: your war is not with Islam. Your war is with evil fucks. Some of those evil fucks are Muslims. Some are Christians. Some have political power. Some run corporations. There is no need to demonize a demographic; Evil knows no bounds and fears only enlightenment.


The Beautiful Game

The agony of de-feet.

With the World Cup in full swing, I feel compelled to include some commentary. I’m not a big sports fan, so I can remain objective discussing such an emotional subject.

On this day, America was defeated by Ghana. This is the second time in as many World Cups that Ghana sent America packing, which speaks volumes about the value of this truly international competition. Unlike the Olympics, where huge sums of money can make a national team superstars, in association football any group of wiry little bastards can destroy the richest and most powerful nation on Earth.

The next generation of Goliath slayers.

Association football isn’t very popular in America. We love it for our children, but if you’re post-pubescent and still playing soccer, you’re gay or weird or both. Parents giveth the soccer ball, then they taketh away. This seems mighty strange when one considers that the vast bulk of Earth adores the sport and holds it in the highest regard imaginable.

The reason for America’s tepid interest is simple: the nature of the gameplay precludes extensive commercial breaks during broadcast. There isn’t enough TV money in soccer to satiate the voracious appetites of the American media machine. Without broadcasts, there is no national interest. Without national interest, there is no television audience. It’s a positive feedback loop that keeps soccer in schoolyards and civic fields and out of stadiums and networks.

45 minutes without ad time? Forget it. What's next on the agenda?

For the rest of the world, it’s a passion. Their broadcasters will show all the games simply because it draws viewers. They have that old-fashioned belief that currying viewership builds long-term interest in the rest of the offerings. This quaint approach to business is anathema to American business practice, which dictates that anything that threatens the next quarter’s numbers is a stupid folly that must be avoided.

What a passionate market segment may look like.

Meanwhile, Europe, South America, Asia, Africa and Pacifica are exploding with football madness. Supporters go to horrifying extremes to demonstrate their loyalty to the local side. In Britain, this passion makes worldwide news as the hooligans perform public outrage after public outrage.  This is the kind of passion that marketing executives dream about, but America has yet to comprehend the possibilities. It’s her loss.

As for me? Even if America became soccer-mad I wouldn’t be very interested in the game itself. Maybe if soccer matches became ultra-bloody spectacles of crowd violence I’d watch on TV and even attend matches now and then. It’s the psycho-social aspects of the game that interest me, not the game itself. Why? Let me tell you  a story…

Eng-LUNDDDD!

It was 2004. I was touring the south of England during the UEFA Euro Cup games and ended up alone in Bournemouth during the quarterfinal against Portugal. I debated leaving my hotel to join the locals; my previous match night in a tiny Wiltshire village pub was a bit stressful. Being the “bloody Yank” in a sea of painted English faces isn’t exactly comforting.

But I wanted to see the spectacle. I wanted to observe this cultural phenomena firsthand. English football hooligans make American football tough-guys look like a bunch of fat girlies. I wanted to understand this fury; I wanted to smell the beer and the sweat and hear the screams of joy and anger. I was not disappointed.

I went to the biggest, busiest pub full of the most painted, caped and be-draped England fans I could find. The place was a riot of beer and noise. The crowd overflowed to the outdoors, where numerous TV sets were hurriedly installed maximize the punter volume. It was to this garden I went and, to my surprise, was befriended immediately.

'E's a fookin' Yank, 'e is!

I met a lovely young college-age couple and their buddy, a hardcore supporter. We talked about England and America and how idiotic Bush is and all that stuff. The game against Portugal started well enough: Michael Owen scores in minute 3 and the place explodes with joy. I felt much more at ease, cheering on the English side without actually speaking too much and giving away my ethnicity. I wanted to blend in and observe, not come across as a johnny-come-lately interloper.

The game progressed through waves of beer and liquor. I was quite intoxicated when regulation time expired. In extra time, Portugal scored and the whole place erupted in hatred and frustration. What now, England? To universal relief, Frank Lampard scored the equalizing goal at minute 115. A miracle! But as extra time expired, the place became hushed.

I didn’t take any of these photos, but it this one demonstrates the mood of that moment perfectly:

Why so sad?

I didn’t understand it. The game is a draw and will go to a shoot-out. England still has a fighting chance! Why is everyone so despondent? I stupidly inquired with my hooligan host what the problem was.

“Cunt!” exclaimed the hooligan, “England ALWAYS loses these FOOKING shoot-out’s! FOOK! Oi ‘ate this shite! Oi fookin’ ‘ate it! FOOK! ENG-LUNDDD!”

And he toddled off, beer in hand, a man destroyed. The whole pub felt similarly. they knew that the English side, despite its numerous merits, are world-renown for screwing it up in the clutch. England, mighty England, is a goat team. And everyone knew it.

You could hear a pin drop in the pub. First up for England: Beckham. The man. The legend. He sets the ball, steps back, hand in the air, and proceeds to puff the ball miles wide of the goal. It was the kind of shot on goal I would make, and I suck donkey ass.

That was it. The place was in an uproar. As the shoot-out continued point-for-point, there was absolutely no hope. Portugal was one point up and that was all the room anyone needed to beat the goat-losers of England. Fate inexorably closed in on the hopes and dreams of the Sceptr’d Isle. Portugal wins, 6-5.

The pins-and-needles were swept away by torrents of dark, beaming anger. Screams of anguish filled the hall. Glasses smashed on the floor. Men were tearing at their hair and faces. As they say in hooligan lore, it was about to “go off”.

Not a place for drunk Americans.

The crowd spilled out into the street. Men were stripping off their shirts and flexing their muscles. Women walked quickly along, arms tight their men-folk. I must admit, I was feeling like them. I wanted to put my head down, grab someone’s arm and hope to Christ they could guide me out of that mess. The incipient violence was palpable.

Social scientists have studied crowd violence for decades. Freud supposed that crowd anonymity begets unwarranted exuberance and truncated personal reasoning skills. “Convergence Theory” holds that crowds self-organize: while it’s possible for a few individuals to whip up a crowd, the crowd must want to be whipped up.

What I witnessed that night paid homage to both theories. The core of extreme hooligans clearly infected others, but as the crowd swarmed into the street and started marching uphill, it was apparent that the horde had decided for itself to vent anger and do damage.

There was them. And there was me. And then, there was the police.

It's goin' off!

At the top of the hill was a wide police cordon. The coppers had lined up their vehicles at the crest of the hill and formed a cordon in front. As we marched up the hill toward them, they stood ready, tapping their batons in their palms, ready to crack some drunk-ass skulls without a moment’s hesitation.

At this point, I was ripe for escape. I looked to the left. I looked to the right. No alleys, no arcades. Only two directions existed: forward with the crowd or back against it. I was infected; I couldn’t turn back. It was like surfing into shore. The wave carries you and you don’t head back out to sea even if you want to.

The hooligans were screaming at the police, tearing at their bald heads and itching for a fight. The bigger, the bloodier, the better.

As the first wave of rioters met the police cordon, something amazing happened: the crowd backed down. It wasn’t just one person and it wasn’t discussed among the hooligans. It was just felt. Despite its vehemence, the crowd had decided for itself that this was not the occasion. Skinhead England supporters meekly ducked past the police, wringing their football shirts in their grubby, drunken hands. “Relief” could hardly describe my feelings.

We all winnowed our way through the police cordon. There was a bit of yelling and shoving, but in the grand scheme of things peace had been restored. I bustled past the cops with my head down, silent. God forbid they picked out a fucking American in this crowd. It would be like finding a Tibetan monk at a Texas hootenanny. Like, what the fuck are you doing here?

I walked back to my hotel, exhausted yet unharmed.

My back-handed appreciation for the Beautiful Game coalesced that night. I had never seen anything like it. Sure, angry crowds in Detroit and Los Angeles sometimes riot after a big win, but their chaotic vandalism can’t hold a candle to the focused, shimmering fire of the heightened association football fan.