The Chinese have denied the existence of a recent video released showing the vicious beatings of Tibetans by what appear to be a small Chinese police force. In their defense, a Chinese official proudly stated that because the video was posted over YouTube, a web service that has been officially banned since 2008, they never saw it, it doesn’t exist, and as far as they care, whatever video that happens to be floating around out there is simply pro-Tibet propaganda determined to tarnish the the central Chinese government’s consistent track record displaying its ability to cover up an obvious total crackdown on all unofficial states of mind.
Outside source Walter Sobchack told Elf Wax reporters it was in fact a matter of “unchecked aggression,” saying, “The Chinaman is not the issue here, dude. I’m talking about drawing a line in the sand. Across this line, YOU DO NOT-” Sobchack interrupted himself to iterate that Chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature, requesting reporters and his bowling partner to use the politically correct, updated term, “Asian American, please.”
A Chinese government official was quoted as saying, “The Dalai Lama group is used to fabricating lies to deceive the international community.” The unnamed speaker for the Chinese police-state said he had personally gathered evidence with far-reaching implications in the future dynamics of religion and politics as he went on to complain of yo’ mama jokes which the Dalai Lama and others had made in regards to her weight and intelligence. “Every joke contains a kernel of truth,” he cited, and so the jokes were later proven by the state with photographic and anecdotal evidence to be largely untrue. He said, “she has never tripped over any phone, cordless or otherwise, even when we had telegraph wire lying in the floor of the opium dens.” The Chinese Secretary of Defense Chi Gong was once recorded wearing a wire complimenting [unnamed spokesperson]‘s yellow raincoat which he said, “neither made people call out taxi, nor prevented her from hailing one, as our state transportation department cab service is fair, balanced and justified regarding its decisions of who, and who not, to pick up when selecting fares, even in the cases of these vicious beatings, which did not happen, the Tibetans were provided with a prompt, free taxi service to a Tibetan shrine deep into the Earth’s crust.” However, there was already such public outcry against the Dalai Lama’s earlier mama jokes from prior months that, by this time, the Tibetan spiritual and political leader was exiled indefinitely from Tibet by Chinese authorities. So unlike actual Chinese-Tibetan Buddhist monks, the Dalai Lama protests safely from Dharamshala, India.
In a backstage interview, an unnamed Chinese actor said he portrayed a security guard whose role in the filming of the anti-Chinese propaganda video was to pretend to beat, choke and kick people tied up with mock zip-ties. “For a group of people who have released all worldly possessions, they sure are attached to their land; we want to show the world just how attached they are,” he said. “Hey, you guys wanna go eat some Chinese after this?” In an interview with an actual Chinese security guard who requested that he not be named, lest the heavy hand of Communism wipe his existence out entirely, said that if what happened in the video were to have actually taken place, “The idea would be to get them acquainted with beatings, captivity and general harassment methods and try to open them up to the idea that staying here isn’t going to be the peaceful, meditative experience they thought they’d live the rest of their lives out to be.” He continued, “What they tell you in the pamphlets and the brochures about this place, whatever it is, it can’t be true. We are constantly beating and torturing these people. Abducting them, interrogating them and locking them away in our prisons. With all the beatings, I really don’t think it’s a very suitable place for retirement into the tranquil arms of unending peace.”
The Dalai Lama said he will turn his back on the failure of Tibet once he finally overcomes how awesome it is that he became the Dalai Lama because he accidentally picked out the right combination of hairbrushes, cups and toys as an infant, an event which some claim he “doesn’t even remember”.
Armed cattlemen gather to wrangle up
sheep-like capital resource
Our generation is doomed to the cooperation of all distributors of every major known resource in a valiant effort to turn a buck on the entire human race at each opportunity, degenerating us with PR incentives into an unquestioning, unthinking, digitally satisfied, technologically gratified, self-tending human plantation. If things continue at the pace iPhones and on-demand cable have set out, then we will not evolve, but devolve, the opposable thumb becoming civilization’s fiercest natural enemy.
The total output and sheer growth in numbers of cell phone towers will finally generate a large enough volume of short radio waves through polluted air to double the rate of all conditional cancers so as to make yet more money off the same resource, selling vital medications until the usefulness of a particular hominid’s living insides is so rotted, drugged up and decomposed that only local funeral homes can pick off the last few thousand dollars left in his or her insurance fund. One final score for the cash-vultures willing to carve up your corpse and who don’t mind breathing in a little formaldehyde.
As the Indians took and used all parts of the buffalo but the brain, which they used against the animal’s configurable habits to control it into the killzone, so too does the invisible hand of our unseen master from the front porch of his far-off third-world plantation.
Washington, D.C.–Just as protesters marched on the nation’s capitol to keep pressure on the new president’s foreign policy, war policy, and end worldwide occupations Saturday, the Obama administration is ramping up for a new war on Iran.
In an expected twist, the joke is on the peaceniks. As it turns out the joke has always has been on peace-loving freaks because the American public has been lied to so much throughout every war the country has ever been in, that there is no way to stage a truly educated demonstration. There is no effective way of communicating anything to the government without looking like a baby trying to explain its own needs in proper English. But those who are large enough and loud enough to do so are met with resistance bombings and war.
From the slitted windows of the capitol buildings, and from inside Lockheed Martin and co., the CEOs, upper-ranking officials, and politicians laugh inside to themselves, their vision fixed on the ignorant masses clamoring to have their voices heard, chanting the best internet slogans the logical mind can apply to the irrational conditions the money-chasing military-industrial complex has created for them. Or maybe they aren’t laughing? Maybe they are too busy reveling in the deeper sense of their ability to control it: the game and its rules, from the flow of money to the reporting of news about where that money went, to occupations to infestations to exterminations and back around again into brand new broken nations. They are the masters of their own little corners of reality.
By sponsoring the news, they are immune from its “bad reporting”. Mainly bad because in the industry, it is frowned upon by executives if and when an unauthorized report shines negatively on Lockheed Martin, whose tentacles of many names sponsor your station, newspaper, or college, paying your paycheck, financing your scholarships, giving you free internet. This practice is known as “shitting where you eat”, and it does not pay the Audi bill. It’s a no-no and reporters lose jobs over it, even though they’re only trying to cover the truth, because the safety term is ‘conflict-of-interest’ by the books, but the truth of the matter is they don’t want anyone reporting on these companies which pay them anyway. This is how the media has become an entertainment industry and why it is no longer known as ‘the news’. This is why newspapers are dying and how the news has transformed into some globular cluster of pill company PR and cancer commercials, with the occasional lie-facts sheet thrown in and used as the inside source.
Because the news used to report facts. Here’s what it looked like earlier in the last century:
Here, you see men working. Digging for the facts, whatever they are. Whatever the detail is that they’re pulling out, you will get the story on it and you can bet the farm on every fact being crucial, pertinent, uninteresting and included. Everything newsworthy runs; everything that isn’t winds up on the floor. Even the Battle of LA was printed in this time. That’s kick-ass reporting!
Newsroom from 1920 [good job guys]
Below is another example of kickass news reporting. Listen to the reporter listing facts!
“Good evening, I’m so-and-so. Here’s the news. Fact. Fact. Fact. Fact. Fact. That was the news. I’ll see you tomorrow because I do my job.”
Now here’s what it looked like in 1990:
“Good evening, I’m so-and-so-II. Here’s the news. Fact. Fact. Fact. Fact. Opinion. This just in – I’m no longer a news anchor because I broke the golden rule of journalism by breaking objectivity.”
That’s right. The guy actually fired himself automatically for infracting on his public responsibility because that’s how religiously fucking objective he was expected to be, but deceit had already been creeping in by this point. This guy went on to be a huge success at CNN, NBC, MSNBC, CBS, FOX, ABC, and early on enjoyed moderate success with the Insane Clown Posse. Probably.
Newsroom in the 1990s
[see where this is headed?]
Here’s “the news” from 2009:
“Good afternoon, I’m a big name in Entertainment Weekly, and this is the news. Interpretation of fact. Interpretation of fact. Interpretation of fact. Filtration of another fact. Small fact. Opinion. Outright slander. Fact half-supporting slanderous accusation. Closing opinion. And that’s how it really happened, folks. Behind closed doors here in my office.” Soon enough, news anchors are going to start telling us “Don’t touch that dial! Stay tuned for a message from our sponsors, and we’ll be right back with a filtered, uncalled-for-but-totally-gonna-happen review of the actual information obtained through our wire service.”
Newsroom from January, 2009
Oh that paparazzi! What wacky, outrageous story will they distract us with next?
Charles Manson: due to be released in the year 2012, the world-famous serial killer is up for his twelfth parole hearing on the final notch in the Mayan calendar, and he’s already announced new plans to get an acid-washed desert cult underway in the hope of advancing the great holy war of ideology.
The aging mastermind behind the ‘Helter Skelter’ killings spoke to the press earlier this morning, commenting on the ups and downs of his career turning points. The sexually-powered messiah commented on prior failures, saying “I’d like to see more chainsaws being rammed into peoples’ assholes.” He went on to include a tirade about the Beach Boys and his unrelated involvement with hypnotism and mind control techniques, whose details will not be reported here.
As an order of natural law, Yoko Ono should not have an utterable name. She was instead a device planted by the Manson Family to destroy the morale of the opposing faction of insanity, the other stoned acid culture who are not famous for brutal killings, but instead flower-prints, tie-dye, and being sold in Bob Dylan’s Pepsi commercials.
Japanese people love beetles. Yoko Ono did not love Beatles. Buffalo Wild Wings is having an initiation tonight. Whoever dies in the parking lot wins the store.
Obama promised a new day in US Irania relations. Iran’s nukes will be dealt with through negotiations, because everybody owns nukes anyway so who gives a fuck about controlling them anymore? “If the US will stop meddling in other countries’ affairs, Iran will change.” -Iranian spokesperson. It is already rumored that Iran has figured out a way to use nuclear power to travel back and forth through time, and so went four weeks back in time and then two years into the future and assassinated Barack Obama in the future, by way of the past. He has both already been dead for two years and has been our president for two months.
If Manson is released, he becomes automatically eligible for nomination to presidential candidacy behind whom we can all support monetarily and politically, and interestingly competitive with regards to Sarah Palin and the GOP. Write your local congressman, and tell them to delve into Manson in 2012, for heavily-taxed but outstanding health care, so that we may amend the Constitution to support senseless killing and talk about the good old days of murder, when it was available only on the black market. Those were the days. Let Manson take you back to the past, in the future!
Gaia is great because it is full of people who just can’t seem to get a grip on real life at all. With all its fantasy role-playing, cliquishness, inside jokes, and the unending affection of total strangers, it is a welcome hideout for the socially awkward to escape to. It’s also a place, however, that some must inevitably escape from.
Gaia has its own economy, its own government, its own society, subcultures, and religion. It has all the inclinations of our modern-day, real-life architecture, but it exists entirely within a digital computer world in which everyone is rewarded for their contributions and participation. While this appeals to the same gear of human nature which likes videogames and play-until-you-win reward systems, some people replace real-life interaction with this alternative reality in which everyone can be a winner all the time. And because this is the new reality that replaced the old one, in which we used to have to be there for our friends and communicate with them and be good to them, help them out with their issues, and so on, its lack of social challenge perverts these users’ concept of what meaningful social interaction is, because there is no real basis for friendship anymore. You can now make friends by looking at their profile, making a comment about it, and then sending a friend request. This is easy to do and anybody can have thousands of digital friends and still speak to just a couple of people every day. So then social interactions start to mutate, and we begin replacing one emotion with another. Because a friend’s enthusiastic laughter no longer accompanies every interaction, we begin replacing one genuine emotion – happiness – with others: attachment, intimacy, joy from acceptance, and from sharing secrets or an experience unique to this kind of existence.
Just today I discovered two people playing out this weird mommy/daughter role-play fantasy routine where the daughter keeps asking mommy if she loves her enough, and taking issue with the fact that she is never there.
thx i just fekt out because u where never on and u where on when i was not V_V but now its ok ^_^
^in response to the following:
OK…I just want you to know that NO MATTER WHAT I am your friend/mom! ^_^ So I need to tell you that this weekend I won’t be on because I am going to my fiancee’s mom’s house and she doesn’t have interwebz…. crying BUT I will get on asap! ^_^How are you doing??
The posts are being deleted every day or two, probably because the daughter doesn’t want the outside world to see what she has been doing with her internet time, especially not real mommy and daddy.
You see, this is just the hilarious tip of the iceberg. Between exaggerated realities like the example you see here, and the kid who posts in the non fiction arena about his dad beating him and his sister with a thirty foot extension cord, you have a bell curve of people who talk about goths, and how they aren’t goths, “emos”, their avatars, vampires, people who are vampires, people who love vampires, and people who wish they were vampires so they make vampire avatars.
You will find people who have absolutely no bearing on the art community, but post as feverishly as though there was a little publisher standing behind them, yelling, “Churn out more material! The kiln of the entire artistic community simply will not fire without your input! We need more shit faster!” And they don’t care that shitting out some half-assed blurry snapshot of their cat isn’t considered art, because to them, it IS art just so long as they have some bullshit reason to contrive and justify its submission to the corporate-owned art community they wish to be a part of.
As you have already figured out for yourselves, this is a website by adults, for kids. It purports to support creativity and self-development by selling fake, digital garments and accessories, backed by MTV/Viacom finance and style-marketing keywords, which can be bought with the fictitious gold either purchased with a parent’s credit-card or “earned” through the submission (spamming) of a picture of one’s eyeball, or a drawing of their own avatars, or copying-and-pasting Wikipedia entries (a known source of bullshit). Like real-life rap music and Britney Spears from the year 2000, people are now digitizing an existence in which they make art for Pepsi commercials and help to propagate the style and standard set by the “manufacturer of cool” where ten-year-old styles and attitudes that, in the circles that once pioneered them, stagnated within months of their inceptions but carry on through marketing, online advertising and PR. Subversive cultural dynamics submitted by the undercover hired geeks of Viacom keep the tensions alive and convince children that signing their identities away to a multinational corporation is how to rebel against mom and dad, and their vicious ADD medications. Paid strangers keep this shit alive, not regular people. MTV’s future and their ability to control ours depends on it.
We will see you next Friday when local media mogul Billy B will present his continuing investigation into the world’s most unprecedented cheapening of everyday reality. He’s looking into the bastardization of artistic standards and practices in their entirety as part of his investigation into the seedy microcosm mocking our very existence in all its capacity to do so by using us against our nonintellectual selves. We’ll report to you next week from inside the hellish introspective reality of Gaia Online.
This is all we are, in a nutshell, and all we’ll ever be. Tune out, jack in.
The universe is like the sway bar in my car. You just drive over that same stretch of horribly maintained road too many times, and the lynch-pin snaps. The behemoth machines tear trees off their roots and toss them into trucks, and off they go. Ruin my road in the rain, sleet, ice or snow. I have to be honest with you folks out there, I use wood on a prolific scale. Being a woodworker by trade and by hobby it is just what I naturally do. I also have a job at a Barbecue joint and they burn good hickory just for food. So I have a hand in all this logging business, and I’ve even cut down a few trees myself. It’s just not good for the environment. Logging ruins perfectly good dirt roads, and they don’t care until it gets too bad for their trucks. I’ve bottomed out daily for a month, and is it any surprise that my radiator leaks, and the sway bar has snapped off? Just imagine what those animals are going through.
But wait a second. You may be asking yourself “What has this all got to do with the universe?” or perhaps “Is this is going to be a terrible philosophical metaphor?”
Well, there is a lynch-pin that holds the entire universe together like my sway bar, but it is religion, and not the loggers who are fucking it all up. And yes, this is a terrible metaphor, because just like the logging industry, religion would not exist without the support of those they are ruining.
The Cult of the Fire
A squathairy bit of folk discovered fire before any other human ancestor. They were probably the oldest ancestors of the Neanderthals, although it is difficult to tell for sure. Groups began a primitive kind of fire-worship, quite literally believing God was alive within the flames. This was in contrary to Sun worship, which was the predominant belief among Cro-Magnon ancestors. Early Cro-Magnons shunned the use of fire, sun-drying all flesh they did not wish to eat raw. There is evidence of Fire worshippers being killed en masse by spears made Cro-Magnon style, but only up to the exact point at which fire pits are found in Cro-Magnon settlements. Is killing eachother the only way we’ve been able to stop ourselves from becoming god? We were all once the evil cult of the fire.
The Lynch Pin Snapped
God is dead even if you think he lives every day in you. He is getting to be a couple of thousand years old anyway, and is probably good and tired of taking the fall for everything that happens. Perhaps he committed suicide if we’re really made in his image. The fact is that religion has caused too much death, pain, and exploitation for anyone with any sense to still believe. The religious tenets of Christianity do not explain why Christianity has done so much bad. At least Islam says that Allah will sort out the innocents, and I’m sure that’s a comfort to many people. America is so fervently religious we’re simultaneously joyful, hateful, and outraged at what has happened to the world. Gays and women who abort fetuses are the cult of the fire and Christians would have the world rid of them. Just watch Fox News, fair and balanced hatred of weird ideas like Global Warming or oh-so sinister sounding Neo-Darwinism. The Lynch pin snapped at Intelligent design, and this will be the first Cro-Magnon generation to worship fire.
What is Intelligent Design? What a marvelous question! An intelligent design is something that was designed for a purpose by an entity with intelligence. For example, the bow and arrow was designed so that when nocked, an arrow can be launched from the tension of the bent bow. Nobody knows how bow and arrows came to be, but a scientist in Intelligent Design theory could tell you that the bow and arrow obviously did not appear out of thin air. There had to be something that came before the bow and arrow, and it couldn’t have possibly been the spear. There must have been a “designer.” YOU WERE NOT CREATED IN THE IMAGE OF GOD
Our right to privacy extends only as far as our ability to protect it since technological advancement and the government have joined hands against us. The right to privacy will be as void for humanity as the right to a fair trial was to the Guantanamo Bay detainees. We’re basically doomed to an existence carried out under the filtration of the all-seeing eyes behind the various agencies every ISP node is fed into via the NSA supercomputer. All information is monitored, all the time, regardless of how you choose to protect your ‘physical data’. This is not just possible. It is more than probable, considering the unsupervised structure of our the internet everyone knows and understands (or doesn’t understand) today. No one escapes it…
Now introducing, from ElfWax Research & Labratories, the Modern-DayInformationDoomwave SURFIN’ SET! Our set includes:
-1 supersurfin’ keyboard that uses lasers instead of keys. Now you can surf the net like the 1337 hack proz0r5 do – with an unwarranted sense of entitlement. Act as though you’re experienced by dealing with something sensitive like key information by using equipment which can’t be fingerprinted. Catch the wave AND get away with it!*
-A Hand-Held Hate Speaker with a backlit clock. This 4-inch radio is armed with 400+ hours of recorded religious lecture by various extremist groups and terrorits. Also, hear the Beach Boys as you’ve never heard them before!
-1 vacuum-packed hard drive containing a super computer virus that actually turns your computer’s insides into liquid shit. Using TNTech brand research and advancements in pyrotechnics technology, you can ensure that all data within a 24-block radius is destroyed permanently with a high-profile electromagnetic pulse emitted by forcing a power surge through your home’s own electrical system.**
-A single-use flash-drive bullet which can be safely (but assertively) put to your throat and discharged using a GUI (graphical user interface) to send a digital signal to the USB drive, which plunges the hot metal deep into your brain stem. When uncle sam is listening to your muffled cries through your LAN connection AND from outside the door to your back porch, let them know you just went out in style, the American way!***
*You will not get away with it
**subsequent chemotherapy bills are the sole responsibility of the consumer, but it doesn’t matter anyway because your ass belongs to Uncle Sam (oh shit they control the after-life, too!) now get down on your knees and pray for the Sun God to blow up the Sun.
***All of our bullets are made in China and may not contain actual lead or any other hard material, and may dissolve in humidity, becoming a mild toxin poisonous to infants.
A Christian once asked me what my fundamental source for ultimate truth was. The answer might be unsatisfying, but it should be there with a little explanation. In logic, truth is defined as that which can be proven not false in every case. This applies well enough in mathematics and computer programming, but how about for reality? The problem with truth is that every case can never be accounted for. Quantum physics specifically denies it.
Consider a particle in your body, and all the aspects of it. It has among other properties energy and location. Upon measuring this particle’s location, accuracy is lost in measuring its energy. This is the uncertainty principle, and it is an observable phenomenon that Einstein could not disprove. For some reason, this lack of truth is built into the very nature of the universe. I could measure the energy of that same particle, but if I wanted to know the location, I would again lose accuracy. If I wanted to know both the momentum and the location of a particle the best I’d be able to do is estimate. I would still be left with a version of the truth based on two separate measurements that have a mutually exclusive precision. So I’m left with a measurable amount of precision, but not the truth.
So, am I saying that truth doesn’t exist? This is aesthetically painful to the human mind, but it is the strongest possibility. Surely a particle has a location, and a certain momentum, but I won’t be able to figure that out because of an aspect of the universe that is not currently understood. So what is my foundation of ultimate truth, if I cannot know the truth of a solitary particle?
This is a universe of measurable precision. When the human mind decides to believe in truth, there’s an amount of error that cannot be escaped. Truth absolutely must exist, and it may be glimpsed by humanity, but it is impossible to see from all sides without distortion.
On a quantum and universal scale, one can make an argument for a single observable pattern of force and matter. There are forces that steer galaxies and ones that bind quarks. Matter has shaped itself to form black holes, spirals of billions of stars, and even sentient beings. Our understanding and extrapolation of these forces has led to more questions than it has answers.
The question of existence is also approached philosophically. Like a logical proof, one can use a combination of easily proven truths to arrive at a higher understanding. The nature of this approach is limited entirely to the mind of a human being, and that which is experienced.
Consider this: All human experience is constrained narrowly. Electromagnetic radiation engulfs us. The visible part of the electromagnetic spectrum is tiny. Human eyes are built only to see the light of their own star.
Our experiences have widened completely in the last one-hundred years.
And now it may be wide enough to give birth.
The Large Hadron Collider may be able to re-create and examine conditions approaching the beginning of creation.
If creation becomes a part of human experience, what is the new definition for godliness? If one fully understood the mechanics of the universe, omnipotence and omniscience may be computerized and mechanized.
The universe does not appear to resemble a fractal outwardly. Galaxies and molecules have little similarity. Could life be the way the universe exhibits self-similarity? Our collective existence through time becomes more and more in tune with the actual universe around us, and perhaps a new creation may spring forth from brains, computers, or any combination thereof. This would be the meaning of life, and an event horizon for all life on Earth. Universal reincarnation in the image of its maker.
I started with “jerk off into a cup” – a natural launching point.
Holy dicks, what fucking day is it? Is it time for another? Yes it is.
I spent the day dealing with some very friendly people about a very unfriendly bill that has been sent to collections by way of some unpaid tuition at my money-grubbing University. Those bastards think they’re going to get $2,000 out of me, well they’ve got another thing coming. I’ll give them at least $12,000 more by the time I’m done with them! Those bastards will be swimming so deep in my hard-earned cash they won’t know what hit ‘em. They’ll drown in US currency. They’ll have to buy up some more ghetto just to make room for the new cash I want to give them for a degree next year.
That’s where I’m at now – it’s time to buy my degree. I’ve worked at papers and written and photographed and traveled and interviewed and even kissed Jane Fonda’s ass, as every reporter does at some time, or must do on their deathbed, lest they enter the gates of Heaven unscathed by a tired old clash of grandfatherly ideals. So now I’m paying for it, because you see it’s not your experience the industry wants; it’s not your carisma, or your talent or your motivation or even your childish enthusiasm they’re after. No, they want to know that you, too, shelled out an amount of dough greater than or equal to the worth of their own degrees before they’ll even open a god damn portfolio. So be it. I’ll buy the fucking thing and I’ll do it the honest way: by taking money for my sperm downtown.
Sure, I can jerk off into a cup. Have I ever done it before? Not in a cup, no. In a receptacle, maybe, and into a cup indirectly, but never “squirt in the cup, put a lid on it, enjoy your James ma’am.” Five, ten, fifteen years down the road, there could be me: child to a lesbian couple, or perhaps a hardline feminist with filed-down teeth and big gums who wears heavy red flannel and treks out to middle-school-age little league games where she is a stranger. That’s what I want for myself, right now. That’s my goal.
Really, it’d be nice to get all doped up and go to the dentist. My teeth are holier than the bulletproof Pope-mobile. I’m more sensitive to them, too. You can’t see the Pope in his little squad-wagon anymore. They don’t show him. I wish they would. As a child I used to love witnessing the Pope-mobile. It was hilarious. That was before I knew how to jerk off, much less into a cup. And that brings me back to it. Would the pope jerk off into a cup (assuming he had the capacity to engage in a sexually taxing activity like physical masturbation) to save a dying woman’s legacy? How about his own?
I hear we are winning in Iraq so now we’re moving to Afghanistan. Hopefully we will see the same success over there and we can even replicate it in Iran. The UN Chief would like to see that. Sooner or later we’re going to have to go dick against balls with Russia and it’s going to be gritty and you will not see a fear more sinister, more urgent than that which will be pumped out of live television, radio and telegraph broadcasts in our lifetimes on that fateful day when Russian bombers imposing over our inland suburbs like chicken-hawks. The pilots have to use the bathroom, too. “Is that frozen piss-sleet hitting the roof, honey, or is that napalm? I’ll check it this time, you went out last time…”