Iran's Tragic Mistake

As Iran is slowly constricted by the Great Satan and the Little Satan, they are left helpless, having never decided between a full alliance with either Russia or China.  Iran has brought its own ruin on itself.

Old boy Khameini rightly identified the Satanic nature of the USA and Israel. . .yet he has always tried to negotiate with America.  Why?  Even after the Islamic revolution, there remained liberals in Iran who have tried to push for Western investment and cooperation.  Iran has vacillated for decades between Russia, China and the West.  Khameini thought Iran could negotiate its way to the best partner.  His first mistake was believing the negotiations with America were legitimate.  He trusted the Great Satan!  He thought he could make a deal with the Devil!  Absurd!  He hemmed and hawed with Russia and China, hoping to dance with the Devil, now he dances alone.  

Khameini also lacked the courage to confront the two Satans, he sat back and did nothing as they circled him.  Paralyzed by fear, he watched as the Little Satan choked the life from his only two reliable allies, Hamas and Hezbollah.  His second (and greatest) mistake: he should have allowed (and aided) Hezbollah to join in attacking Israel on 10/7, turning the Little Satan's deception against him.  Instead, he did nothing for Hamas and Hezbollah.  He cowered in fear.  And soon after the Little Satan devoured Hamas, they similarly devoured Hezbollah.  Khameini watched, and did nothing.  He left Hamas and Hezbollah to twist in the wind.

Old boy Khameini is now seen on numerous internet video snippets, pious as always, but now mournful and solemn as he speaks of his and Iran's fate.  But in abandoning Hamas and Hezbollah, he now reaps what he sowed.

What Is The Iran-Israel War Really About?

One thing the average American dope doesn’t understand about the Israel-Iran war:

This war was never about Israel’s fear of Iran becoming a nuclear power. This war was never about some *existential threat* to Israel. Israel is the most secure country in the world. They have at least 90 nuclear bombs (and probably many, many more) and could obliterate Iran as soon as they detected Iran trying to launch the missile they do not currently have.  Additionally, Israel is protected by the American military.

In actuality, it's ridiculous to think either Israel or Iran would use a nuclear weapon against each other.  They would be risking the contamination of their own countries based on the direction of the wind.

So what is this war really about?

Israel wants to seize a historic opportunity to control the minerals trade and oil flow out of the Middle East and become not just a regional power but the third world power behind the United States and China. When Israel installs its puppet government in Iran it will then control all the Middle Eastern oil. Israel will be able to close the Strait of Hormuz whenever they want. They will no longer have to rely on crude pedophile videos to blackmail the world.  They can simply threaten to choke the world's energy and mineral supplies.

Additionally, Israel will loot Iran of all its oil and gas treasure, and impose a gargantuan *service fee* on Saudi Arabia to allow it to ship its oil through Hormuz.  Israel will be wealthy beyond its wildest dreams, and have the power to dictate its terms on any issue to Europe and much of the rest of the world dependent upon Middle Eastern oil and gas.

The war is not about Israel's survival, the war is about Israel's coronation as a World Power.

No Kings Protest

14 June 2025: Large crowds across the country gathered to protest the Trump administration — in major cities like Philadelphia, Atlanta, New York and Chicago, as well as in smaller, rural communities. The “No Kings” rallies, as the demonstrations were known, were planned for the same day as a military parade in Washington, D.C., that President Trump scheduled for the Army’s 250th anniversary, which also coincides with his 79th birthday.

I went to my local *No Kings* protest here in Michigan.  I thought there would be a small crowd.  50, maybe 100 sheeple, tops.  But the crowd was much larger, at least 500 people.  Unfortunately, no pro-King Trumpers showed up, so the whole thing was rather tedious.  They had several speakers, small fry local gadflies, but the sound system was so poor, only about every fourth or fifth word was intelligible:

Trump, something, something, something, something, felon, something, something, something, something, tyranny, something, something, something, something, solidarity. . .

You get the idea.

It was probably better I couldn't understand what they were saying, it would have been even more boring to listen to uninterrupted whining.

But it was good to stand around on a pleasant summer afternoon and see so many other people who also can't stand Trump.  Being an anti-social person, often not speaking to another human being for weeks at a time, I'd forgotten there is still a sizable percentage of the sheeple who rightfully loathe Trump.

Other than that, nothing else to say about it.

Iran Will Soon Be *Free!*

13 June 2025: Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu called for the people of Iran to overthrow the Iranian regime on Friday, saying that Israel and Iranians share a “common enemy.” Speaking in a video message, Netanyahu said that the Islamic Republic had “never been weaker” following 24 hours of Israeli strikes on Iranian nuclear and military targets. “The time has come for you to unite around your flag and your historic legacy by standing up for your freedom from an evil and oppressive regime,” Netanyahu said. “This is your opportunity to stand up and let your voices be heard.”

“Israel’s fight is not with you,” he continued. “Our fight is with our common enemy, a murderous regime that both oppresses you and impoverishes you.” The Israeli premier also repeated the slogan of the Iranian women’s protest movement, “woman, life, freedom,” in both English and Farsi. “Brave people of Iran, your light will defeat the darkness,” he said. “I’m with you, the people of Israel are with you.”

Netanyahu after crowing about bombing Iran, tells the Iranian people he loves them and wants to be their new best friend. He urges them to rise up in rebellion against the religious leaders who control Iran. These are ones we are killing, Netanyahu says, not you, and if we do kill you, we only had the best intentions, trust me.  And once we kill them, you will be our new bff. You will finally be free, your women can make money on our* OnlyFans just the same as free, liberated Western women. You will have a democracy and can chart your own course, you will be free, free just like America, free to degrade yourselves in any fashion you choose, and free to pick your own rulers from candidates carefully selected for you through the benevolent Iranian Israel Public Affairs Committee.

Gee, how could Iranians say no?

*See #267 and this link: https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-features/onlyfans-boycott-owner-aipac-pledge-1234989667/

The Multiple Psychic Rapes Of A Supermodel, Conclusion

Having given the psychological profile of supermodel Karen Mulder that best explains the extraordinary story she presented to European media in 2001, we can now answer the question raised earlier: why was his cautionary tale virtually ignored in America?

Since the American Dream, the American Way of Life, is to seek pleasure from materialism, from toxic conspicuous consumption, and since this pleasure-seeking behavior which fuels the American economy is largely conditioned through semi-nude women-based advertising (an alchemical media process through which conspicuous consumption is sexualized and thus transformed into a life drive by associating useless merchandise with the naked flesh of *models*) then it is only *natural* the Karen Mulder story was suppressed in America (and erased in Europe). . .for to reveal the *true* psychic condition of the supermodel for Western women is to expose the degrading condition of all Western women, who have been conditioned to accept the perverse premise that the more naked they are and the more sexualized they are, the more free they are. If this djinni were to escape Madison Avenue, women might rebel at their role as *models,* as flesh billboards waiting for advertisements to be plastered to them. . .and without sexualized advertising, the American Way of Life loses its life force, and the whole purchase-useless-merchandise-on-credit economic house of cards collapses.

After three months of massive doping and shock therapy, the *healed* Mulder recanted her rape allegations against Princes Albert and Rainier. Before her healing, Mulder lived for a few short months in a manic existence of ever-shifting realities, as she tried to hold together her shattering mind under the burdens of the revelations of her childhood rape and her never-ending adult psychic rapes. Mulder was quite probably never closer to the *reality* of this world than when she was frantically zig-zagging from one European media outlet to the next, preaching in an incoherent hysteria about her lifetime of rapes and the global conspiracy against her. Now she will probably spend the rest of her life medicated and vaguely depressed, drifting in and out of the public eye, more-or-less in line with the *fashion* of the world, never offering more than her last drugged-down condemnation:

What can I say? Obviously, if I had a 17-year-old daughter, I wouldn’t want her to model. You have this immense pressure on you, you desperately want the important guys around to love you, you’re so young and so eager to please, so naïve. And you never complain, never cry, never reveal anything. If you don’t succeed very fast, bad things are bound to happen.

Bad things are bound to happen, indeed.

The Multiple Psychic Rapes Of A Supermodel, Part II

Having given a brief recap in Part I, how do we now decipher the Karen Mulder cryptogram? There are any number of disciplines one could use, but since there is no evidence other than Mulder‘s own words, and since her own words are often contradictory, we conclude the psychological is the one best suited to solving the riddle.

In attempting to psychologically evaluate Mulder's claims, we must first ask whether or not Mulder was psychologically stable when she made her initial claims to Ardisson and VSD. On the surface, it would seem this answer is dependent upon whether Mulder's story was completely true, partially true, or completely untrue. But in point of fact, the truthfulness of Mulder’s allegations makes no difference — we have to assume Mulder was psychologically unstable. Why? Because if her story were only partially true or completely untrue, then Mulder would be out of balance with the eternal cosmic order. She would be, in the parlance of the day, criminally insane. Because any person who would partially or completely fabricate a story against any other person or persons would be guilty of violating the Creator's Ninth Universal Law: Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor (Exodus 20:16). The fact this marks nearly everyone who has ever lived as criminally insane does not alter the validity of the Law. Let God be true, but every man a liar as Paul said (Romans 3:4).

And yet even if Mulder story were completely true, the lifelong trauma she claims she suffered would leave her mentally unstable, as her claim of memory gaps would validate. So it is necessary to conclude that Mulder was psychologically unstable when she made her initial claims. And knowing this, we can therefore say with absolute certainty that her story was completely true, partially true and completely untrue. It is not the case that one could not make a valid argument for anyone of the three possibilities. Certainly one can make such an argument. But understanding that Mulder herself is unstable, one must be able to recognize her story as simultaneously true, partially true, and completely untrue. How can this be? Simply stated, Karen Mulder suffers from psychic splitting, due to multiple psychic rapes, which allows her to exist in different states of reality.

Psychic splitting is an unconscious process by which positive and negative impulses and feelings that are too difficult to be held together spring apart and become projected onto different people. Under a diagnosis of psychic splitting, one can postulate any number of origins for the mental breakdown of Karen Mulder. In the interest of brevity we will provide only the most probable:

It is most likely that Mulder was, indeed, raped as a child. The supermodel's entire life fits the well-established profile of the sexually abused young girl. First, there is the repressed childhood memory of the sexual trauma, which only comes back in memory fragments later in adult life (and these are scientifically legitimate memories, notwithstanding the wicked efforts of the pedophile controlled so-called False Memory Syndrome Foundation to discredit the validity of the recovered memories). Second, the repressed sexual trauma in the adolescent girl leaves the poor creature with a bewildering sense of powerlessness and a general discomfort with her body. To overcome this double-helix of neurosis, the young woman often displays shameless exhibitionism and extreme sexual promiscuity. Often the victim of childhood sexual abuse works as a prostitute or so-called *exotic dancer,* with the self-employment of the body allowing the disturbed women to gain a false sense of control over her body. Indeed, sensing the pathetic carnal desires of the sexually disturbed males who seek the services of prostitutes, or observing the sexually disturbed make in the ridiculous, weak and worshipful posture of kneeling at the altar of the Exotic Dance Goddess with rolled-up dollar bill in mouth, patiently waiting to drop his perverted tithe into the dancer's/goddesses panty-lined offering box, the woman gains a false sense of power, and makes peace with her body.

In the case of Karen Mulder, certainly she manifested shameless exhibitionism. Her career as a model consisted primarily of converting semi-nude on the runway (and runway *work* is certainly akin to performing on the *exotic dance stage,* in that there is a similar degrading energy emanating from the male members of the audience, which fuels the model's feeling of power) or in magazines, catalogs, etc., etc. Indeed, as a supermodel, Mulder overcame her feelings of powerlessness and body discomfort by gross overcompensation: she became nothing but a body, nothing but an object, a flesh-clothed mannequin. And when Mulder made the claims her modeling agency forced her into having sexual relations with influential persons, this is likely nothing more than a reverse overcompensation. With the realization of her childhood sexual abuse, Mulder undoubtedly viewed the sexual promiscuity she engaged in as a supermodel, which fueled her feeling of power, with revulsion. Thus yet another psychic splitting occurred, and Mulder convinced herself that her shameful sexual history was not consensual, but just a lifelong continuation of rape as a mind controlled sex slave. But by alleviating her shame at her sexual reprobation, Mulder once again was left feeling powerless. A vicious sexual circle which engendered further psychic splitting. . .this time manifesting in paranoia, with the belief she was a victim of a conspiracy. And to further ease her own sense of guilt, Mulder needed to convince herself that this couldn’t only just have happened to her, because of some weakness peculiar to herself, no, there had to be many, many other girls who had also been similarly bewitched. . .hence, Mulder's desperate attempt to include Ophelie Winter, who had the misfortune to be in the right television studio at the wrong time.

Earlier we advised but understanding that mold her self is unstable one must be able to recognize your story is simultaneously true, partially true, and completely untrue, and that she was able to exist in different states of reality. To explain how this is demonstrated in Karen Mulder‘s life, it is important to examine in greater detail the impact of Mulder's emerging memories of her childhood rape on her adult sexual promiscuity.

With the terrible realization, hitting her in bits and pieces of obscene flashbacks, that her body had been sexually violated as a child. . .and let us pause here, reader, and try to imagine the mental pictures locked up in the confused mind of a two year old girl. . .from the perspective of the innocent toddler, the rapist must seem the size of a giant. . .a nude, leering, hairy ogre. . .with a throbbing, angry red horn protruding from between its legs. . .now, 31 years later, these mental jigsaw puzzle pieces of a distant sexual nightmare bubble up in the brain to haunt the Dutch beauty. . .so we must realize not only was there a past physical violation, but now a filthy psychic sexual smog pollutes the spirit and soul of the famous supermodel, which forces her to reevaluate her adult sexual history. Thus begins the alternate sexual realities she recounts to the media. The most psychologically important of these are Mulder's rape applications against Princes Albert and Rainier.

To understand why Mulder made these astounding claims we must realize the two Princes, in all probability, came to represent in her damaged mind the sum of male humanity. This is likely the case because Albert and Rainier, whom Mulder met on numerous occasions in real life, were *Royal* males, with Royalty, especially in the European mind, still carrying the aura of the near -divine. . .the pinnacle of humanity, towering far above the grubby mass of the common man. When encountering Albert and Rainier, whether upon viewing them in the audience from the runway, or meeting them at parties, social functions, etc., Mulder likely saw in their eyes and observed in their body language that degrading sexual energy which once, before the memory of childhood sexual abuse, gave her a feeling of power. This naked lust from the Princes may or may not have been real. . .the *reality* of Mulder's encounters with the Princes, short of the assumed *fact* that rape did not occur, does not matter. . .all that matters is Mulder perceived sexual energy from the Princes. . .and this same energy which once fueled her sense of power now threatened her and frightened her. . .because her memory of childhood rape transformed her image of herself from a powerful woman who could manipulate men with her body to that of a helpless victim. . a victim living in fear that any man who *looked* at her might drag her off into a dark corner and rape her again and again and again.

Thine eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse things (Proverbs 23:33).

Supermodel Karen Mulder not only must have lived with a new and overpowering sense of vulnerability, but also with a new and emotionally crippling sense of disgrace. Now discovering her *true* reality as *victim,* she must have felt massive guilt and shame over her career as a nude or semi-nude *model,* a professional body, a flesh object. . .an object that only became real when other people assigned her meaning. . .such as when celebrated designers draped her in their costumes and sent her off down the runway as the world‘s most attractive coat hanger. Looking at her own nude or semi-nude image in hundreds of magazines and catalogs, with thousands of staged scenes of varying degrees of sexual innuendo (including one controversial photo shoot in the Paris subway where she simulated being a victim of a rape for Glamour France) in which she let her body be commercially abused, it is impossible not to assume that Mulder did not suddenly suffer massive psychological shock from the realization she was a victim of a world-wide psychic gang rape (a factor in her conspiracy paranoia). . .yes, even as the glamorous supermodel studied her image imprisoned in the chicly sleazy pages of a Victoria’s Secret catalog, she felt the psychic sexual assaults from the four corners of the globe as tens of thousands of males, from all of the-still-chubby-cheeked-ten-and-eleven-year-olds awkwardly tugging at their genitals while drooling vacantly over her lace-covered breasts to all of the grizzled convicts delaying their self-gratification until their Mulder-starring mental movies of sexual sadism (featuring scenes that would sicken Italian goremeister Dario Argento) played out, psychically raped her. . .and Mulder also must have realized in almost the same instant that the rapes would never stop. . .she would be continually psychically raped for as long as the hundreds of thousands of copies of her image circulated throughout the world. Her body had been used by a man when she was a child. . .and, unwittingly with her *career* as a supermodel, she had pimped her own body to be used by all men for all time. The psychically ravished Mulder was left no choice but to transfer her own guilt in exploiting her own body onto Prince Albert and Prince Rainier, who, as Mulder's *real life* representations of the sum of all men, were the chosen two scapegoats to carry all the rapes of every man who would ever abuse the image of the supermodel.

The Multiple Psychic Rapes Of A Supermodel, Part I

Thine eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse things (Proverbs 29:33).

She made an offering of her naked flesh to all the eyes of the world.  For this, her admirers blessed her with fame and fortune.  And then cursed her with the perversity of their hearts.

In a nation as obsessed with celebrity as America, it was curious the bizarre story the psychological breakdown of Dutch supermodel Karen Mulder created barely a ripple in the turgid waters of the tabloids. The Mulder melodrama features rape, royalty, mind control, insanity, even hints of a worldwide conspiracy. . .all sure-fire ingredients for a media feeding-frenzy. . .yet in America’s pre-Qanon days, only Globe ran one short item on the Mulder meltdown. . . and its entry cleansed the story of many of its messier elements.

Why was this cautionary tale virtually ignored in America? To answer this, we must first answer another question: what really happened to the former Victoria’s Secret catalog cover girl, Karen Mulder?

It is often stated in stories of this kind fact is stranger than fiction, but that cliché assumes an environment in which the individual can distinguish between the two. Perhaps the reader will agree, after the facts are presented, that in the mind of Karen Mulder, there is no longer a boundary between fact and fiction.

Let us begin with a review of the facts of the Karen Mulder psycho-circus:

On 31 October 2001, Mulder arrived at a Paris television studio for an interview on the France 2 talk show Toute Le Monde En Parle (All The World Is Talking) hosted by Thierry Ardisson. After only five minutes, Ardisson stopped the interview. Later, with the consent of the show's producer and the station's general manager, Ardisson had the tape of the five minute interview erased without it ever being shown. Ardisson claimed this action was taken because “there were perhaps true things in her story. But it was obvious she was not in a normal mental state. When she left the studio she said to me ‘you also, you belong to the plot against me.’”

The next day, an audience member named Emmanuel de Fournas posted a message on the internet summarizing Mulder's bizarre appearance. According to de Fournas, Mulder claimed she had been repeatedly raped since the age of two, when her father hypnotized her, and that her father left her with a hypnotic cue, which allowed other people to sexually control her. She named Prince Albert of Monaco as one such person who used the cue to rape her. Mulder also stated her former modeling agency, Elite, forced her, and other models, to have sex with influential public figures, including Prince Rainier of Monaco. Finally, the supermodel also claimed that French Pop singer Ophelie Winter, who was to appear on the talk show later that evening in an unrelated segment, was also a victim of similar mind control. Mulder begged Winter to come on stage and verify her claims. Winter refused. As she was leaving the studio, a tearful Mulder said that Winter told her "tomorrow you will not remember anything you have said tonight.“ The de Fournas web posting concluded with the information that not only did France 2 erase the copy of the Mulder interview, but confiscated the video cam of a young woman in the audience and destroyed her tape as well.

On 3 November 2001, Mulder gave an interview to the European magazine VSD in which she repeated most of the allegations she made in the never-aired France 2 talk show, and added the following facts: 

Mulder said she experienced memory gaps for most of her adult life but started getting flashbacks of her childhood abuse and rapes during summer holidays in Mauritius in 2001. Mulder, who filed an official rape complaint with the French police two days earlier, said she feared the investigation would result in a cover-up because she “is the victim of a plot which relates to the government and the police force.“  She also stated while she was in New York she was raped “by the President of a very great country.“ She finished the interview with the incoherent statement “look at, there, opposite my house, the neighbors, it’s not so much the system of watering which they have, but it is the sound. They are hypnotic tricks, for example the water which runs all the time, and the birds. One person tried to kidnap me, one tried to poison me.“

Just hours after her VSD interview, Mulder was committed to Montsouris, a Paris psychiatric hospital, at the request of her sister Saskia (also a model) and one of her parents. Mulder remained in the hospital for three months, where she was heavily medicated and given shock therapy.

After her release, and now termed *healed,* Mulder gave an interview which appeared in the 2 April 2002 edition of Paris Match. She recanted the more sensational aspects of her story. She said Prince Albert and Prince Rainier did not rape her, and thanked them both for dropping their lawsuits against her in exchange for her letters of apology. She also said she no longer believed there was a plot against her.

However, she maintained her childhood rape allegation, although she did not specify her father as the rapist, only saying she was raped by a family member. As for her earlier charge her modeling agency used her, and other models, as sex slaves, she spoke of a less direct, or more commonplace sort of sexual coercion: “What can I say? Obviously, if I had a 17-year-old daughter, I wouldn’t want her to model. You have this immense pressure on you, you desperately want the important guys around to love you, you are so young and so eager to please, so naïve. And you never complain, never cry, never reveal anything. If you don’t succeed very fast, bad things are bound to happen.”

Neighborhood Watch

Neighborhood Watch: I was surprised how enjoyable this video-on-demand crime thriller was. Starring one Johnny One Note actor I like (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and one Effeminate Nerd Method actor I don’t like (Jack Quaid), it’s a fairly standard buddy movie (the two main characters initially seem {bi}polar opposites, but of course, overcome their differences by film’s end) with just enough new touches to make it seem fresh.

Simon (Jack *Effeminate Nerd Method* Quaid) is a recently released schizophrenic still struggling with hallucinations of his abusive dead father and unable to find work (when stressed, as he frequently is, he speaks word salad gibberish). Wandering home after his latest fiasco of a job interview, he sees a young woman being beaten and forced into the proverbial white van. Our nutcase reports the crime to the police, but, of course, he can’t control his lunacy and the lady cop doesn’t believe him. Desperate to rescue the girl, our lunatic hero-wannabe turns to his cranky next door neighbor Ed (Jeffrey Dean Morgan in his usual gruff, sarcastic alpha male mode) for help. Ed is the retired former head of security for a college campus who is perpetually annoyed at being labeled a *security guard.* Initially, of course, Ed doesn't want anything to do with Simon, whom he nicknames *Screw Loose* and *Taffy Brain,* but with no friends and no job and nothing to do but stew in resentment, he relents and the two heroes set about saving the damsel in distress.

The looney tunes gimmick, Simon’s schizophrenic tics, hallucinations and verbal outbursts, keep the familiar story from turning stale, and I have to credit Jack Quaid for a fairly convincing performance, though there is still a whiff of the effeminate nerd to him. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is pitch perfect as cantankerous, brusque, self-assured retiree grappling with loss (his character wears a wedding ring but there is no wife to be seen) and diminishing relevance. Morgan and Quaid work well together and manage to infuse what could have been a yawner with just enough humor and pathos to keep the viewer engaged from beginning to end.

Untitled Painting

This painting, by the German artist Adolf Hitler, presents a haunting, mysterious scene that evokes themes of bureaucracy, alienation and existential introspection.

Known mainly for his postcard art, bland but technically skilled landscapes and city scenes quickly produced to procure the vagabond artist lunch money, here is a rare personal work which can be variously interpreted in light of his past disappointments and future rise and fall.

The image shows a hallway receding into infinity, framed by an increasingly smaller series of rectangular doorways or archways. Two men are present in the foreground. Or, two figures are present in the foreground. One, seated at a desk on the left, dressed in a formal suit, possibly a clerk or gatekeeper, is certainly male. The other, assumed by most art historians to be male, stands holding a document or portfolio, facing forward but not directly engaging the viewer or the seated man. Yet when I first saw the painting, I was struck by the *It’s Pat* nature of the standing figure. The long frock, the suggestion of breasts, the gender neutral facial features and hair, this figure struck me as the one-testicled, asexual Hitler’s possibly unconscious representation of himself.

I see Hitler waiting with his portfolio to be admitted for examination by the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts. The pain of his two rejections by the Academy, the depression, the frustration of his life’s dream, the emptiness and loneliness of his future, the persecution by the bureaucratic Art Academy, are all foretold after the fact in this uncanny painting.

Dominated by dark, muted tones—deep grays, browns, and shadows—it conveys the coming somber, oppressive atmosphere for Germany. One can’t help but view the vast, receding hallway as the prototype for the Third Reich, in which the people will struggle against incomprehensible systems. Hitler’s masterful use of one-point perspective adds a sense of depth, guiding the viewer’s gaze inexorably toward Germany’s vanishing point, and foretelling his claustrophobic, helpless feeling trapped in his last days in his underground bunker.

Jack Nance & Ted Kaczynski

 

The alcoholic actor Jack Nance (born 21 Dec 1943) gained world-wide fame from his starring role as Henry Spencer in David Lynch's 1978 anti-industrial manifesto Eraserhead.  Nance brilliantly portrayed a despairing Ultimate Everyman driven to infanticide in a mercilessly bleak parallel world built from the rusting carcass of our industrial civilization.  Nance's character is a repressed, frightened little man who is unable to sustain relationships with women.  Henry is sexually dysfunctional, as evidenced by his near-continual leaking of individual worm-size genetically mutated sperm.  However, Henry has *fathered* a child with his sometimes-girlfriend (the virging?) Mary.  Their baby, the film suggests, was conceived when Mary came into contact with one of Henry's leaked sperm while she lay writhing in an orgasmic masturbatory frenzy on a bed she shared with the impotent Henry.  Hence, in an inversion of the Virgin Birth of Jesus, Henry is shown to be the *spiritual father* of the messiah of the dying industrial world.

But Henry's savior child turns out to be a hideous genetic freak—perhaps symbolic of Lynch's belief that techno-industrial man is no longer a fit vessel for the Spirit of God.  In any event, Henry is abandoned by Mary and left to care for the deformed infant. The infant cries continuously, but Henry is unable to respond in any meaningful way and he grows increasingly anxious and panicked—again, perhaps representing Lynch's belief that the frenetic nature of techno-industrial life is the result of man distancing himself from nature and God.  In the end, unable to recognize the infant's cries as anything other than a threat to his own feeble existence, Henry pierces the baby's side with a pair of scissors—thus in the hyper-speed of techno-industrial life, the savior is executed just days after birth.  

Jack Nance was murdered on 31 December 1996, just one day after sustaining a head injury in an alcohol-fueled doughnut shop brawl.  Oddly, in a case of truly Lynchian weirdness, Nance's Eraserhead character may have been the spiritual father of Unabomber Ted Kaczynski.

Eraserhead was released shortly before Kaczynski's first amateurish attack in 1978.  Did Kaczynski see Eraserhead?  Kaczynski, like Eraserhead's Henry Spencer, was never able to sustain a relationship with a woman.  What did Kaczynski make of the the bizarre pencil eraser experiments made on Henry's brain, did they remind him of the own psychological experiments performed on him while he was a student at Harvard?  Significantly, while working in a machine shop in Chicago (a microcosm of Eraserhead's techno-industrial world), Kaczynski's awkward sexual advances were rebuffed by a female co-worker.  Humiliated, Kaczynski fled to the pre-industrial wilderness of Montana. 

Did Kaczynski ponder the anti-industrial imagery of Eraserhead?  Did Lynch's cry for a redeemer of the techno-industrial world resonate deep within Kaczynski's own soul?  Did Kaczynski identify with the sexually feeble Henry?  Did he identify with Henry's impulse to murder?  We will never know the answers to these questions.  

Immigration Theater

The Trump administration is deploying the California National Guard in response to protests in Los Angeles over immigration enforcement operations that have resulted in some clashes between demonstrators and authorities, the White House said in a statement. President Donald Trump signed a memorandum "deploying 2,000 National Guardsmen to address the lawlessness" in California as demonstrations opposing Immigration and Customs Enforcement operations continue in the state, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said in a statement Saturday.  "In the wake of this violence, California's feckless Democrat leaders have completely abdicated their responsibility to protect their citizens," Leavitt said. "That is why President Trump has signed a Presidential Memorandum deploying 2,000 National Guardsmen to address the lawlessness that has been allowed to fester," Leavitt said.

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth said in a post on X that the Defense Department is "mobilizing the National Guard IMMEDIATELY to support federal law enforcement in Los Angeles. And, if violence continues, active duty Marines at Camp Pendleton will also be mobilized - they are on high alert." Earlier, California Gov. Gavin Newsom said the federal government was moving to "take over the California National Guard," calling the move "purposefully inflammatory" and saying it will "only escalate tensions."

This is the latest revival of a bad traveling road show: Immigration!

If anybody ought to know the true value of immigration in Late Stage Capitalism, it's Donald Trump.  Before earning his family empire tens of billions of dollars by selling White House access to foreign dignitaries and White House souvenir trinkets at $99.99 a pop to MAGA rubes, Trump made his fortune off properties that could not have been built without cheap, *illegal* labor.  Trump was one of the great contributors to the *immigration problem.*

But about twenty years ago Trump realized all the properties he had built off cheap labor (and even with the cheap labor, he never fully paid his contractors, his businesses employed a stable of lawyers to fight failure to pay lawsuits and then file bankruptcies) could no longer operate profitably.  His ugly hotels, casinos, golf courses were all running huge losses.  The money was running dry.  How to save the family fortune?  He branched into Entertainment with his Apprentice TV show, but that didn't provide nearly enough cash.  The biggest dollars were to be made selling American favors to foreigners.  Politics was to be Trump's last Golden Goose.

Trump used the one issue he knew something about, immigration, as his ticket to the White House.  Even though Trump knew Late Stage Capitalism was dependent upon the cheap labor provided by immigrants, he lied and told the gullible sheeple otherwise.  And then to further sell the lie, to make it the sheeple's greatest concern, Trump projected onto immigrants the two great crimes of his own personal life, larceny and rape.  He made the immigrants the thieves and rapists.  He made the immigrants the bad hombres.

After raising the sheeple's anxiety levels to the point he could win two presidential elections based upon nothing more than white sheeple's irrational fear of poor colored people, Trump had to offer a solution to the problem he created.  He had to convince the frightened sheeple he could save them.  Through border walls and theatrical round-ups of poor colored people, Trump offers the frightened sheeple the illusion of control.  The appearance of law and order being restored.  

And so we have these endless staged conflicts.  Look at the heavy-handed tactics, it's pure theater.  The military vehicles, the masked heavily armed ICE agents provoking poor colored people (whether they are immigrants or not doesn't matter, this latest spectacle started with ICE attacking a colored American citizen, a labor leader).  Create a problem, provide a dramatic, cinematic solution.  Theater.  Theater that's all too real to the poor coloreds being rounded up, their lives, at best, interrupted, and, at worst, ruined.  Theater to the sheeple watching through the lens of FOX News and who receive some placebo effect relief from their immigration anxiety.

Though this theater seems genuine to large portions of America, in truth it's no more beneficial than a civil war re-enactment.  The illusion of control.  The illusion of American revival.  But you don't have to be a prophet to predict that when Trump leaves office, the lives of the MAGA rubes will be just as impoverished, if not more so, as when he entered—and not just economically, but also socially and spiritually.

From The Basement III

Going through the box of old letters and shit in the basement has been very pleasant.  Sifting through the papers and mementos, I take pause over how many of the creators have now died.  They no longer exist.  At least, in this plane of existence.  DEAD.

The letters and other objects are relics.  Artifacts.  I feel by posting them here, by dusting them off and presenting them on the internets, I have, to a degree, resurrected the creators.  I have power over life and death.  I resurrect some, like the author of the above email, to life, and others, like the pathetic New York publisher mentioned in the first entry of this series, I resurrect to damnation.  To a degree, of course.  You understand that.

These dead are thought of, and will be thought of, whenever somebody will stumble across this internets page.  Even after I myself am dead, these resurrections will live on, for as long as this internet host lives.

Through these relics the dead will enter the consciousness of the living, and be, temporarily, psychically revived.  The dead will speak.

The creator of the relic above passed judgment more than twenty-five years ago, and this judgment will continue to ring for as long as this internet will last. 

This is my gift to the dead. 

Another One From The Basement

Here's another gem I found in that old box of letters and shit that was sitting in my basement.  This thing is probably around thirty years old.  It was a *work wanted* flyer from a self-proclaimed *fat slob* named Doug Holland.  Besides being fat and a slob and a general laborer, Holland was also a Prominent Figure in the 1990s zine scene (the oddball penpal movement in which oddballs published their own xeroxed magazines and then traded them through the mail to other oddballs who would then praise them in their own oddball magazines, etc., etc. in a DIY Literary Ponzi Scheme), first as the publisher of Pathetic Life, a monthly diary-type zine chronicling his low-rent San Francisco existence, and then as the William Randolph Hearst of zines with his Zine World, a zine devoted to reviewing other zines. Holland had a crew of oddballs volunteering to write the reviews.

The Holland Zine Empire probably lasted 5 years or so before he mysteriously vanished for 25 or so years before reappearing on his current internets page, in which he re-posts entries from the old Pathetic Life zine, as well as movie reviews and links to news articles documenting sex crimes committed by self-proclaimed Christians. Holland, for some reason, has always seemed to have a grudge against churchianity. He now seems to have acquired an additional grudge against MAGA. He also has a terminally ill roommate who can’t exit this plane of existence fast enough.

I tried calling the number on the flyer to see if I could hire Holland to clean my basement, but the number is out of service. Apparently Holland is now *retired,* living a comfortable hermit’s life care of his monthly Social Security stipend.

On two or three occasions over the past couple years I attempted to interview Holland about the old zine days and this and that, but he declined.

I always enjoyed reading Pathetic Life. It was a humorous, thoughtful, well-written account of lonely low-budget American life.

I Won!

In a bygone era I fancied myself a *writer.*  I typed a novel titled *Broken Crown* (not the same *Broken Crown* I am now selling on Amazon.com).  Only a handful of people have read it.  I remember it as being mildly amusing, certainly not Hemingway or Nabokov, but better than the shit being published in America today.  Anyways, I sent the novel to many, many publishers—they all rejected it.  After the first dozen or so rejections I changed the tone of my query letter or whatever you call it.  I knew it wasn't going to be published, so in essence I rejected the publishers first, LOL.

Anyways, I was cleaning out my basement yesterday and came across a cardboard box with old letters and shit.  Many of them were rejection letters.  One of them was from a New York snob.  Some uppity broad from a shit-ass little publisher named Soho Press.  I re-read this broad's rejection letter and laughed as loud as I probably did some 30 years or so ago.  And then I was curious, was this broad still alive?

No.

She's been dead for over 15 years!!  I outlived her!!  So, I WON!  Congratulations to me!

Albert Speer: His Battle With Truth

Albert Speer: His Battle With Truth, by Gitta Sereny.  Albert Speer, as Adolf Hitler's architect, designed many of the gargantuan architectural monstrosities of the Third Reich and orchestrated some of the massive and spectacularly eerie Nazi rallies, such as the 1934 Nuremberg Party Congress, which as been dubbed *The Cathedral Of Light.*  However Speer's greatest contribution to Nazi Germany came when Hitler appointed him Reichminister of Armaments and Munitions.  Speer used his organizational genius to keep the Nazi war machine running full throttle long after it became obvious Germany could not win WWII.  Sereny's biography examines Speer's accomplishments in these areas, but, of course, as in any account of a high-ranking Nazi, it is his relationship with Hitler and his knowledge (or lack of knowledge) of *The Final Solution to the Jewish Question* that becomes the dominant area of inquiry.

Today, when one hears the term *revisionism* in association with Nazi Germany, one immediately thinks of those strange little lunatic fringe historians who insist through their poorly written pamphlets that the mass extermination of the Jews did not take place.  But there is another form of *revisionism* as well. Perhaps the most valuable contribution of Sereny's 800 page biography (first published in 1995) is that it corrects the commonly accepted revisionist error that Nazi Germany is solely to blame for the mass murder of the Jews.  While Germany must perform an endless penance, the other guilty parties have never truly faced their responsibility for their crimes against humanity. This is one of the privileges of being on the winning side of war.  So while it is true, of course, Germany must accept the overwhelming majority of guilt, it is also true other nations, including America, England and Switzerland, must also be held accountable—for they denied Hitler his *first solution* to the Jewish question.  As Hitler wrote in Mein Kampf, and continued to advocate for most of the 1930s, his preference was to deport all Jews from Nazi territory.  But as Sereny notes:

Developments between the late 1930s and the beginning of the war in Russia led Hitler to the dreadful Final Solution of his problem.  The first, recognized before the outbreak of war, was that, given the refusal of other nations to accept anything but minimal numbers of Jewish immigrants, an enforced total emigration of Jews from Greater Germany would be impossible.  Alternative means would have to be found to get them out of Germany (p. 251-252).   

And even in the actual murder of Jews, the first mass killings were not done by Germans, but by Lithuanians and Ukrainians.  As Nazi Germay rolled through the Baltic countries:

They found that there were in these countries many wildly anti-Semitic locals thrilled to have license to kill Jews.  While this in no way diminishes Hitler's responsibility, it now seems probable that the first wholesale killing, particularly of women and children, began in the Baltics and was welcomed but not originated by the Germans.  It started the night of June 25 - 26, 1941 in Kovno, Lithuania's second city, four days after the Germans invaded (p. 254).

These Lithuanians:

With encouragement but without German cooperation launched the first post-occupation pogrom in Kovno on the night of June 25, in the course of which the killings began.  By the end of July these men had proved themselves so effective that the German command organized them into what ended up being twenty police battalions.  About 8400 men, all volunteers, were charged with the wholesale murder of the Lithuanian Jews, under the supervision but not necessarily active participation of the Eleventh Battalion of the German Reserve Police.  These particular Lithuanian units were considered so outstanding that by the end of 1941, by which time all but a fraction of Lithuania's 265,000 Jews had been killed, they were posted to Belorussia and then Poland to continue their work.  Thus, most significantly, it was the Lithuanians on their home ground who, one might say, pioneered the killing of women and children.  In Kovno, German SS Gruppenfuhrer Friedrich Jecklin, taken aback by the ruthlessness of the Lithuanian units which, he reported, surpassed anything the Germans had so far envisaged, ordered films to be made of the Lithuanian actions so as to 'make clear it was the local population who spontaneously took the first steps against the Jews' (p. 255).

Unfortunately, however, Sereny's book fails in its essential form: as biography of the man Albert Speer.  Sereny was a European journalist who had largely made her career by investigating and researching Nazi Germany.  Though undeniably an outstanding and fair historian, she has one glaring weakness, and it is a weakness which, in the final analysis, ruins her biography of Speer.  And it is the same weakness that was evident in her earlier and better *Nazi book* about Treblinka kommandant Franz Stangl, Into That Darkness: Sereny insists her subjects are lying if they do not confess to the sins which she judges them guilty. Thus, Albert Speer: His Battle With Truth is reduced to Gitta Sereny's Battle With Truth, for in Albert Speer, Sereny repeatedly states as fact, without offering a shred of evidence, that Speer knew of *The Final Solution,* though Speer always maintained he was not aware until the Nurember War Crimes trial (indeed, there are eyewitnesses who have given sworn affidavits that Speer was not at the 6 October 1943 assembly of Nazi Party Ministers at which Heinrich Himmler revealed *The Final Solution* to the Nazi Party hierarchy.  The purpose of this meeting:

Was part of Hitler's determination to make sure that his supporters were all implicated in the catastrophe he was bringing on Germany.  Hitler had told his closest army advisors months before that the 'bridges behind us are burnt,' but he now charged Himmler with making the most faithful in the party privy to the guilty knowledge (p. 388).

At Nuremberg, Speer readily admitted his guilt that:

As Reichminister for Armaments and Munitions he bore responsibility for the decision to recruit by force, and for the use under brutal, inhumane and degrading conditions of foreign civilians and prisoners of war in the manufacture of armaments and Munitions, the construction of fortifications, and in active military operations (p. 303).

For this crime, Speer was sentenced to twenty years imprisonment.  Speer also accepted guilt in a general sense for the crime against the Jews, because, as he always maintained when asked about *The Final Solution,* he "should have known, he could have known, but he hadn't known."

He knew Jews were being transported from all over Europe, and he sensed "dreadful things were happening" (p. 706), but he always maintained, and with a high degree of support from the available historical records, he was never aware of the specifics of those "dreadful things."  

This is not enough for Sereny, who harangued Speer throughout their four year collaboration for a confession to knowledge of the gas chambers.  What is most revealing in this book is Sereny's surprise at one of her final letters from Speer in which he stated:

He had been terribly hurt by my article, he had expected me to have a different attitude from all 'those others' who had been trying for so long to 'catch him out and pass judgment' on him.  The question of his 'knowledge' was absolutely central to his life, he said, and it was a great disappointment to find that after all the time we spent together, I had tried to accuse him of 'knowledge' without mentioning any of his counter-arguments (p. 709).

Sereny's surprise at Speer's reactions shows her to be as blind to her own peculiar *historian's vanity* as Speer was blind to the "dreadful things." 

Layne Staley: Death Of A Hollow Man

Layne Staley, the 34-year-old lead singer of the grunge band Alice In Chains, lay dead for two weeks in his Seattle apartment before his stinking decomposed corpse, surrounded by heroin paraphernalia, was discovered by a relative on 19 April 2002.  Mr. Staley was a knock-off Kurt Cobain, an imitation of the Nirvana original created by Columbia Records to grab some grunge cash.  Whatever one thought of the hapless suicide Cobain (who was never as disdainful of *Stardom* as he claimed to be), it cannot be denied that his personal life was rooted in, and his musical ambitions were true to the aimless , depressed Northwest White Trash culture which spawned the Seattle sound that dominated American music from the late 1980s through the mid 1990s.  Mr. Staley, on the other hand, appeared more typical of most young American males who seek a *career* in music: Staley simply wanted to be *famous.*  And to that end, he would ape (skillfully, it must be admitted, for Staley was a fine mimic and crafted an effective grunge snarl/wail) whatever style was in fashion.

Cobain never *became* grunge. . .Cobain was Cobain, and grunge was, in large part, just the co-opting reaction of Seattle scenesters to Cobain.  The scenesters came from the same doleful culture as Cobain, but didn't have any talent or poetry of their own, so they co-opted Cobain's, which, of course, cheapened the whole scene, much like pseudo-punks in Britain co-opted Johnny Rotten's authentic punk expression in the 1970s.  Layne Staley *became* grunge because Columbia Records told him it was the thing to do if he wanted to become famous.  Prior to transitioning to grunge, Layne Staley was a laughable figure, a frosted front man named Candy Layne for the homoerotic glam hair band Sleze, whose trademark song was titled Lipstick Rock.  The A&R folks at Columbia ordered Staley to cut his hair and wipe off the rouge and lipstick and buy some plaid shirts.

Unfortunately for Layne, once he achieved his life's ambition, to become famous, he had no genuine identity to sustain himself. So once again, he simply followed fashion.  What do famous grunge vocalists do?  Heroin.  Staley got hooked and could never beat it.  How could he?  What could this Hollow Man call upon?  Nothing.  Kurt Cobain became as big a *star* as there was in the music industry, he ascended to the heights, and still found nothing to burn away the depression of life in America—but he did retain his own authentic identity and the ability to choose a course of action: he killed himself.  To Cobain, better to be dead than live in the phony atmosphere his music created.  The poor fellow was too talented for his own good, his music made him bigger than anything his poor depressed Northwest White Trash spirit could handle.  One could imagine Cobain living happily on only if he hadn't been so successful, if he had been, say, the Lemmy Kilmister of grunge.

As for Layne Staley, once he became a *star* and then embraced heroin out of fashion, he lacked the ability to take control of his life because his life was never truly his own.  He spent his few adult years role playing.  So Staley simply existed as an *star* for six or seven long years as a pathetic addict.  Wild rumors surfaced from time-to-time, such as the one depicting Staley living like a grunge Howard Hughes, isolated in a fleabag hotel with only a few trusted aids to bring him his daily dose of smack, wasting away to nothing, with a needle-scarred arm as hideous as that of Harry Goldfarb's in Requiem For A Dream.  The truth turned out to be quite a bit less colorful.  Staley lived a comfortable addict's life in a comfortable north Seattle apartment.

In the end, Staley couldn't ape Cobain one last time by committing suicide.  That action requires a certain kind of honest self-awareness and inner resolve that the chameleon Staley never developed.  So Layne Staley loitered about for 6 or 7 years, doing nothing, simply existing, like some Bartelby with a monkey on his back.  In the end, Staley died an addict's natural death, another burned-out *star* collapsing into eternal blackness. 

Detroit Sports Spectacular

A couple of weeks ago, in an attempt to *have fun,* I attended the Motor City Comic Con. It was mildly amusing. Pleasant. At the low end of the fun scale. This past weekend the same venue hosted the Detroit Sports Spectacular. I thought to myself: I might as well go. I might as well try again to *have fun.*

The Detroit Sports Spectacular featured vendors selling trading cards (the most expensive one I saw was an old Babe Ruth card priced at $15000), autographed helmets, jerseys, balls, pucks and other assorted memorabilia. 25 athletes also appeared in person to sign autographs and pose (clothed) for photographs with fans. The list of celebrity athletes was of a higher rank than the celebrity entertainers at the Comic Con. There were many Hall of Famers and current A List athletes. But despite the impressive array of jocks, the attendance at the Sports Spectacular was considerably lower. At best, the Sports Spectacular had 1/4 the number of guests as the Comic Con. Well, that suited me just fine. Far more breathing room, shorter concession stand lines, and empty urinals in the shitters. Less people is always better, except at the nude beach.

One of the big name jocks signing autographs and posing (clothed) for photos was "Mr. October," former Oakland A's and New York Yankees legend and frequent World Series Hero Reggie Jackson.  Reggie is now 79-years-old.  More "Mr. December" than "Mr. October."  He appeared quite frail.  I have no doubt I could easily blow three fastballs past him, and I did consider challenging him, but charitably decided against embarrassing him in front of the fans.  I was surprised so many fanatics were willing to spend $180 to get a photo or autograph when they could just wait a few months and go get a free picture with him at his gravestone.

On the other hand, 64-year-old Dennis Rodman still looked sprightly and ready to party all night long with Kim Jong Un.  The Worm was asking *only* $99 for a picture or signature.  Not surprisingly, white women of all ages seemed eager to stand near the African-American wild man.

The most popular guest at the Detroit Sports Spectacular was legendary National Championship winning University of Michigan and current Minnesota Vikings quarterback J.J. McCarthy.  J.J. commanded a hefty $200 per photo and autograph, which must have pleased the attractive young lady who accompanied him.  Another Hermès bag on the way, no doubt.  McCarthy, clad in cap worn backwards, was in good spirits, smiling and energetic with all his admirers, particularly this broad who was literally bursting from her maize-colored Michigan crop top.  It's good to be a *star* QB.

All-in-all, a little more *fun* than the Motor City Comic Con.  A suggestion for next year's show: maybe get some of the sexy girl athletes, Olivia Dunne, Cameron Brink, Jordyn Huitema, etc.