31 July 2015

Never Forget: A Muslim Or Christian Could Have Done This

Reuters, 30 July 2015: An ultra-Orthodox Jewish man stabbed and wounded six participants, two of them seriously, in the annual Gay Pride parade in Jerusalem on Thursday, with police saying the suspect was jailed for a similar attack 10 years ago. About 5,000 people celebrating the event were marching along an avenue when a man jumped into the crowd, apparently from a supermarket, and plunged a knife into some of the participants, witnesses said. Police said they arrested the suspected perpetrator, Yishai Schlissel, an ultra-Orthodox man. Spokeswoman Luba Samri said he was the same assailant jailed for the stabbing of three marchers at a similar Jerusalem event in 2005. Israeli media said the suspect had been released from prison several weeks ago. The parade has long been a focus of tension between Israel's predominantly secular majority and the ultra-Orthodox Jewish minority, who object to public displays of homosexuality. Many devout Jews, Muslims and Christians criticize homosexuality as an abomination of their beliefs. Gay marriages performed inside Israel are not recognized by the authorities.

Ha ha ha. . .notice the second-to-last-line in the article:

Many devout Jews, Muslims and Christians criticize homosexuality as an abomination of their beliefs. . .

What the fuck is that all about?  Why drag the poor Muslims and Christians into this gutter of religious hate?

I guarantee you if a Muslim or a Christian had stabbed the gays, you would not see a news story with a *disclaimer* indicating Jews also have their share of religious psychos. . .

Ha. . .Reuters, reporting on a Jewish terrorist, feels compelled to remind us many Muslims and Christians are *the same way*. . .ha ha ha.  

Look, it's well understood that a lot of people, MANY OF THEM NOT THE SLIGHTEST FUCKING BIT RELIGIOUS, think homosexuality is an abomination. . .

Why not just word the article this way, if we feel we have to make sure the whole world knows this act of terror could have been committed by a non-Jew:

Many Jews and gentiles criticize homosexuality as an abomination. . .


Let's leave the *devout* and the *beliefs* out of it.  Plenty of lukewarm religionists and average secular joes hate homos just as much as the ultra-Orthodox Jew Yishai Schlissel. . .

[One last thing, it seems to me Reuters is implying that *devout* Christians or Muslims who view homosexuality as an abomination would also therefore believe they are justified in trying to kill some gays frolicking in a parade, like this ultra-Orthodox Jew must have believed, based on Levitical Law.  Can't speak for Muslims, but Jesus' ye have heard that it was said by them of old time sayings and His actions and teachings in John 8:1-11 clearly repudiate this.]

29 July 2015

Cecil? That's Too Bad, But. . .

Daily Mail, 28 July 2015: Death threats have been sent to the American dentist who killed Cecil the lion in Zimbabwe earlier this month amid growing anger over the protected animal's slaughter. Tributes to the butchered lion have poured in thousands of miles away at Dr Walter Palmer's office in Bloomington, Minnesota, where protesters dressed as 'dentist hunters' also threw stuffed lions at his house. Celebrities including models Cara Delevingne and Candice Swanepoel have also blasted the dentist, calling him a 'poor excuse of a human being'. In an emotional appeal, American television host Jimmy Kimmel asked viewers to donate to the Wildlife Conservation Research Unit - those responsible for collaring and tracking Cecil.

Well. . .surely this is a *sign of the times?*

Hunting has always seemed stupid, and certainly a well-heeled Yankee dentist doesn't need to hunt for food or clothing. . .he and Delta Dental can swindle sugary drink addicted rotten-toothed AmerICKan slobs whenever he needs to re-stock his kitchen pantry or bedroom closet.  And although Cecil probably would have eaten *supermannequins* Cara Delevingne and Candice Swanepoel if they came anywhere near him (or would have eaten them, if they had any meat on their bones), still, Cecil was hardly a threat to humankind.  Apparently he was an old lion, well past his prime, a kind of safari park greeter, like the old bags who nod to you as you enter Walmart. . .

So, yes, we agree, killing Cecil was a senseless act. . .

Of course, it's not the killing of the lion that is a sign of the times. . .it's the *International Outrage.*

Really?  This is what brings out 21st century mankind's *better nature?*

I mean, if you are looking for something in Zimbabwe to be outraged about, what about this:

Why no outrage in the last 15 years as dozens of white farmers have been murdered, and thousands driven from their land under the insane policies of Robert Mugabe? 

What supermannequin or television talking head ever shed a tear for one of Zimbabwe's white farmers?  But a raggedy old lion gets its head chopped off, and the world turns Franciscan?

Then again, the *outrage* may be merely electronic. . .Cecil simply the hashtag of the day, photogenic fodder for internet blowhards.  Look at this example of *real world* outrage:

*Dentist hunters* protest at Dr Palmer's house

eSheeple photo opping for Social Media wall space. . .

Palestinian children are beaten and choked by Israeli security forces, there is no outrage.  That's one small example.  One small example from a world saturated with violence, disease, poverty, addiction. 

The world itself is an outrage. . .

Here, then, is the true sign of the times:

The world is an outrage, an offense, a scandal. . .and the people cannot see it. When war and exploitation rule the day, who notices death and misery? Another body on the pile. . .

Franz Stangl was asked how he couldn't recognize the humanity of the Jews in Treblinka:

The pits full of blue-black corpses. It had nothing to do with humanity; it couldn’t have; it was a mass—a mass of rotting flesh. 

This is our world, a mass of rotting flesh.  We are long past the point of outrage when another body is thrown onto the pile. . .

The people have a form of color blindness. . .they can't see the blue-black corpses. . .their outrage is only triggered by flashes from the far end of the spectrum: an old lion in Zimbabwe, a couple of faggots who can't have a pizza for their wedding, confederate flags, deflated playoff footballs. . .

Then there are the people who are outraged over the outrage:

Click here to read about some AmerICKan negroes who cry because white people are more upset about Cecil than Tamir Rice. . .and Rush Limbaugh says don't cry for Cecil if you can't cry over the organ harvesting from aborted fetuses at Planned Parenthood.

But they're all the same, ALL THE SAME. . .they practice SELECTIVE OUTRAGE. . .they want you to cry over their own little agenda. . .hypocrites, all of them. . .they'll turn a blind-eye to any slaughter that don't knock on their door.  

Ha.  None of them recognize the whole fucking world needs to be done away with.  THE WHOLE WORLD.  GOD DON'T WANT IT.  None of it.  Not even what the hypocrites think is their own little good part.  Hey, friend, it's all shit!

The whole world is an outrage.  Only crying over this part or that part is just straining out the gnat, and swallowing the camel. . .

14 July 2015

Obama Makes The Jackass Pout

Ha ha ha. . .I'd give Iran 10 nuclear bombs, just to see that jackass pout!

Waa-waa-waa. . .the sky is falling!  It's the worst moment in world history!

Ha ha ha. . .

And just as soon as that jackass stuck his nose in America's business, his republican poodles trot right out after him and say the same fucking thing! 
Listen to that Ohio cocksucker!  Him and his kind are why the sheeple ought to be wiping their asses with the American flag. . .it ain't worth nothing but shit

The government sells out the sheeple every day of the year, from passing laws allowing the corporatists to throw them out of work for some dollar-a-day third world darkies, to robbing them with their taxes, which are given to parasite Wall Street usurers, to killing them in foreign wars fought not to defend America, but to make money for the 1%ers in the War Economy, to subjugating true American National Interests to the deranged demands of a lunatic foreign state, all for filthy lucre's sake, the filthy lucre required to buy a seat in AmerICKa's whorehouse Capitol Building.  

Wake up, sheeple!  Your government is infested with money-grubbing vermin spreading the disease which sickens you, and they do it in the service of a malign world order. . .

But let's stop for a moment and give the old mulatto Obama his one moment of due. . .for whatever reason, he actually did the right thing.  Whatever his true motivation, nobody can logically counter his argument in favor of the Iran deal:

I have been president and commander in chief for over six years now. Time and again I have faced decisions about whether or not to use military force. It’s the gravest decision that any president has to make. Many times in multiple countries I have had to use force, and I will never hesitate to do so when it is in our national security interest. I strongly believe that our national security interest now depends on preventing Iran from obtaining a nuclear weapon, which means that without a diplomatic resolution, either I or a future U.S. president would face a decision about whether or not to allow Iran to obtain a nuclear weapon or whether or not to use our military to stop it. But simply, no deal means a greater chance of more war in the Middle East. Moreover, we give nothing up by testing whether or not this problem can be solved peacefully.

Moreover, we give nothing up by testing whether or not this problem can be solved peacefully. . .

Exactly.  You cannot rationally argue against this point, which is why the jackasses in the videos above resort to hyperbole and hysteria, as they can offer no rational reason not to see if this *problem* (problem for who?) can be solved peacefully.

Now we are going to have weeks and weeks of the Jackass and his republican poodle America Seconders crying wolf!  No straw man argument or ad hominem attack will be too outrageous for these shameless liars to proffer.  Will the sheeple dutifully bend over, once again, and take one up the ass for the Jackass?  Or will they listen to Obama, who, with no more elections to fret over, can now finally tell the Jackass and the republican poodles to fuck off? 

Ha ha ha. . .if you like watching supposedly powerful men grovel, take a good look in the next few weeks at these republican poodles running for president!  Watch them beg from the Jackasses AmerICKan proxies for their campaign dog bones. . .HA HA HA. . .THEY'LL CIRCUMCISE THEMSELVES UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT HANGING BETWEEN THEIR LEGS IN THEIR PATHETIC ATTEMPT TO PROVE HOW MUCH THEY LOVE THE JACKASSES STATE.

[And for all you who think Trump is the messiah, when you hear that milkshitter say something like what I just said, instead of picking on pissant wetbacks, then you can get your fucking pink panties in a bunch. . .until then, you just got fooled again.]

13 July 2015

President Whitey Milkshitter

Twitter is the perfect post-*9/11* platform for waging AmerICKan political campaigns.  The sheeple, already provincial, embraced jingoism after the Manhattan office buildings fell, rather than admit there could be consequences to AmerICKan manifest destiny.  The AmerICKan sponsored deaths of 500,000 Iraqi children had nothing to do with the attack on the office buildings.  AmerICKa serving as the Scarlet Beast which the Whore rode to herd the Palestinians into the slaughterhouse had nothing to do with the attack on the office buildings.  No.  The sheeple could not face their national sins.  And when their Figurehead said 'we are good, they are evil,' the sheeple found the covering for their sin.

'We are good, they are evil,' was the first tweet, the mother of Twitter, and the Hail Mary of the newly founded AmerICKan Church of the Innocents.

Twitter's 140 character limit encourages shallowness, superficiality, stupidity--the hallmarks of jingoism, and became the perfect format for the expression of AmerICKan *Thought:*  

'They hate us for our freedoms.'

It's no coincidence Twitter emerged during the George W. Bush presidency.  Bush was an authentic twit, a man of inherent superficiality, and his natural born jingoistic tweets conditioned the sheeple to embrace a social network that rewarded simplemindedness.

Ten years later a blowhard such as Donald Trump can use Twitter to gain a popular following.  I doubt we are at the point where this kind of electronic populism can actually overturn the real world power behind a political party, but that day is coming.

For now, we enjoy the spectacle of a halfwit like Trump being trumped by the bandit El Chapo. . .

Ha ha ha. . .here you have someone supposedly running for the *highest office in the land* engaged in a battle of insults with a drug dealer. . .and losing.
After making this boast, El Chapo (or his son) responded by threatening Trump and calling him a milkshitter.  Trump, the man who would be Commander-in-Chief, was so unnerved, he immediately ran to the FBI for protection!
How the American political process has fallen!

Yes, it is true, for decades the American elections have been nothing but theatre. . .but they at least were staged in the grand tradition of the Lincoln-Douglas debates. Now a fugitive on the run calls an American political candidate a milkshitter. . .and seems more Presidential!

I wonder if you took an *instapoll* right now, if El Chapo would do better than the yellow-bellied Trump?  Certainly he could take California. . .

08 July 2015

American Underground Literature, Volume 1: Dan Buck

In days long ago, before the electronic age, there existed these things:
They were called *zines.* Amateur magazines self-published by oddballs. Most of them were terrible, consisting of horribly written tales of self-pity xeroxed and mailed out to dozens of other self-absorbed scribes in the underground fanzine world.

There were a few noteworthy exceptions, eccentric journals written by literate obsessives devoted to High Weirdness or Conspiracy. I remember one such publication titled Republicanism, Pedophilia and Negrophilia--a masterpiece exposing the *Christian* political right as high-ranking masquerading octoroons with insatiable lusts for little boys and girls. . .

But, anyways. . .after telling a sad tale or two of anorexia or bullying or date rape or losing a big wrestling match or losing a big toe in a lawnmower accident, most zine *authors* ran out of material, and then asked for submissions from anybody who could spell 'cat' to help keep their vanity presses alive. Of course, most of the guest contributions were shitty, also. But I noticed one fellow, Dan Buck, who appeared in scores of zines, with poems and short stories that were singularly affecting.

Most zine writers were shameless posers, without a genuine narrative voice, but there was nothing phony about Buck's work. In the interview below, Buck will speak of the difficulty in finding the meaning in his wire sculptures. . .the same holds true for his writing. . .you can never quite be sure what it means, but it always *rings true*. . .these are the poems and stories of a real human being trying to commit experience to paper. In this regard, Dan Buck is a far greater writer than American counterfeits such as David Foster Wallace and Thomas Pynchon, who shit out (or shat out, in Wallace's case) thousands of pages of goofball gnostic fiction.

Dan Buck resides in the great American interior (Armour, South Dakota, pop. 699), far from the self-styled literary intelligentsia of New York, who chase their own genitals in search of the next written std to infect the reading public. Pure of Madison Avenue intoxicants, Buck's prose can disorient readers accustomed to the typical dreck published and promoted as American Fiction, but which, in reality, is the impostor literature of Manhattan blurbism.  

I thank Mr. Buck for agreeing to an interview, and for providing two short stories which follow the questions and answers.

Mr. Buck's short story collection This Day's Wait is available on Amazon.com.

Mr. Buck welcomes correspondence. You may write to him at PO Box 271, Armour, SD 57313-0271.

Interview with American Writer Dan Buck

Q: How did you get started writing?  Have you always wanted to be a writer, even since childhood, or did the writing bug come along later?

A: Writing was a labor of love for me. I was forced into it, when after I graduated from college, my diabetes grew worse. I have always had an unstable diabetes, but I was getting reactions once or thrice a week, all the while my doctor kept raising my insulin injection. As this problem happened, so did the cost of staying alive and paying doctor and hospital bills. The trouble was the employer knew about diabetes better than my doctor and wouldn't hire me. So, finally, I took up writing. With my college minor in English, I thought it would be a breeze.

Q: What type of work were you looking for?

A: It's been forty years ago. With a failing memory. But, I do remember one. That was a big newspaper. The hirer told me that they'd hired a diabetic. But when they switched him to night work, his blood sugars didn't take kindly to the switch. So I was out as soon as I said 'diabetic.'

Q: Why do you write?  Is there something in particular you want to share with the reader?  Or do you write primarily for your own benefit?

A: I write always hoping that someone will read what I say. Yet, after discovering that I would never get published the way that I was going, I went insane. I became a schizophrenic. It took a long while dealing with it, before I restarted writing. . .but then writing took on the dual purpose of also being a link to sanity.

Q: Can a person *become a schizophrenic?* Or does schizophrenia overcome the person?

A: My psychiatrists have been sketchy with this question. Thirty years ago my psychiatrist said it was one and/or the other. As far as I know there are plenty of diabetics on both sides of my family tree, but no schizos. But after a few years, when I got it, my grand nephew was born with autism.

Q: Have any writers inspired you?

A: The primary writers whose writing I have enjoyed are Roger Zelazny and Piers Anthony.

Q: What is it about these writers that you admire?

A: Both Zelazny and Anthony have lots of action in their work.

Q: You live in a small town in South Dakota. How does that influence your writing?

A: Living in a small town in South Dakota has filled me with the simple dreams of life. Those dreams are my daily life bread that are spread throughout my writing.

QAre there other *artists* in your area you connect with?  Or are you *alone* when it comes to writing?  Are you considered an *oddball* because you write?

A: There are no other writers in my area that I am connected with. And, as I also learned other skills in my treatments for schizophrenia, there are also no other wire sculptors or collage artists. No one says anything. I am accepted in my small town, that is enough.

Q: What subjects do you sculpt? People? Animals? Abstract objects?

A: I wire sculpt mostly abstract people and abstract animals. Have given my dad a difficult time in figuring what the work is, besides dangerous wire.
Wire Sculpture by Dan Buck of Armour, South Dakota
Q: Can you share some of your zine experiences, good or bad. . .maybe some friendships that formed, or you got some feedback that your poems or stories inspired or helped somebody?  Was anyone ever overly-critical or negative?

A: Nobody was ever over critical. I made some good friends. And a lot of people were helpful. The trouble is through diabetes and schizophrenia I have troubles with my memory. Longer pieces of writing are harder and harder to do and get right. I am working with my memory, but a novel is out of the question. And also with doing long computer stories and blogs. The computer is also expensive and I am limited with bigger sums of money at one time, which I would have to pay coming from a small area.

Q: With the internet and all our electronic gadgets, the old paper zine is about dead, how do you feel about that?  What are we losing?

A: I regret losing the old zines. But change is a natural part of life, so I will wait and take advantage of anything good that arises.

Q: Does the electronic media interest you?  What do you make of this Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr stuff?

A: I wouldn't mind getting more involved with internet. When I visited Twitter, I enjoyed clicking onto the longer pieces of info. Quite informative.

Q: When 9/11 happened, did you think America was attacked?  Or just New York City?  By that I mean, do you think of the World Trade Towers, etc. as really being a part of America?  Did it matter to anyone in South Dakota that the Twin Towers fell?

A: In South Dakota there is a strong 'America, right or wrong' feeling. In every war South Dakotans have fought and died. But it is a poor state and people are into survival, so not much is said about feelings one way or another.

Q: What about the recent church shooting, in which a young white man murdered nine black people? I don't imagine there are many African Americans in South Dakota. . .can you understand why anybody would want to kill people just because they are colored?

A: More and more black people are coming to South Dakota--through adoption and moving to Sioux Falls.  But when I was young, there were none in small towns around my area. Still, I admire most hard-working people in the world, as hard work is looked up to in South Dakota.  And for sure I can't understand killing people who look for love and understanding in this world.  Just saying it now reminds me of the '70s.

The Literature of American Writer Dan Buck




Once upon a time in the far present there lived a troubled man, who had Schizophrenia. As he kept taking treatments, uneasy situations kept arising. Still, he held onto being better.

He fastened a lot of his troubles to himself. He never had many conscious thoughts, which presented him with using things of his past in special ways.

One such was storytelling. And in the back of his mind he was always trying to find new ways to write stories.

On one night, after getting up in the early hours, he went outside and looked up at the moon and clouds. He noticed the clouds' shapes. They began him thinking in thoughts and emotions into stories. Here is one story the clouds presented to him:


The rooster pheasant crowed in the wild weed patch. The man watched, while thunder rumbled.

In a nearby farmyard, the leghorn rooster angrily cackled at the pheasant. It moved closer to the leghorn, then edged back into the weeds. The man sighed.

Hearing the pheasant, the dog ran along the ditched gravel road. But, not a hunting dog, the canine couldn't pick up on a fresher scent from an older. He soon gave up by racing to the farm and chasing the chicken into the barn.

Just then the thunder rumbled angrily. The man walked on, scaring the pheasant into a flight. The dog saw the bird flying, and growled. It never shifted the pheasant's flight pattern in the least. The leghorn, seeing the dog's defeat, crowed fully, then flew into the chicken coop.

The man called the dog to come to him. His stomach rumbled. The dog crawled into its shed, with its tail behind it.

The man followed the clouds to the East. A farmyard appeared about a mile further on. He walked slowly.


For awhile, the cloud man thought something might come of it. But, by the quality of the story, he knew nothing would. Yet, rather than quit staring at the cloud images, he continued to think about them and form ideas.

Those he could use, later.



Listening to the Little Woman.

"What's that slithering in the grass, out of the shadows it keeps? Kill it. Kill it. Keep it away from our child. You're supposed to be the man. Do something beside drinking beer."

What's that garden size variety slithering from my foot? Seeking shelter from my stick. Not running in fear. Always coming back to bask in the sun.

Another time, after wife and child find better men, we'd be buds, greet solace from old age, not wasting our future with visions of our past. But, for now, I will run harder from my woman's screams than you will.

Meeting your daydreams is no bad fate. Maybe, in a hollow place, out of the cold, we can wrap our silence together.

05 July 2015

The Journal Of Human Life, Page 41

The days pass one after another after another after another. . .

Days filled with nothing. . .

Nothing happens that didn't happen yesterday or the day before yesterday or the day before the day before yesterday. . .

Wake at the same hour and begin again performing the same functions.  There may be *people* around us.  The same pull-string talking doll words are spoken. . .

Work or no work, it makes no difference.  Productive work is never found.  The hours are passed at a phone, a register, a computer terminal. Meaningless.

One man works, another doesn't.  Neither contributes anything. . .

The days pass one after another after another after another. . .

Days filled with nothing. . .

People fall in love. . .until they realize how much they hate each other.   And the same mistake is made again and again, generation after generation.

We hear tales from far off of people suffering, they need to become more like us. . .

The herd grazes, and we boast of living!

The journal of human life is filled with blank pages. . .

Pages filled with nothing. . .

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty blank pages. . .

Then, ONE OF THOSE DAYS. . .and we would destroy the world.

One of those days, when things don't go quite right. . .everything just a little off, so that our eyes open after weeks and months of somnolence, and we discover the horror of our living.

It is enough to make us dream of mushroom clouds, swastikas and Baphomet violating the cultural pet of the day. . .

The Journal of Human Life, Page 41: