Brand name is all that matters. It’s the one constant when selling a product, be it a handgun, jeans or the news. Especially the news. Why do people so blindly trust specific news sources? You name the network and a scandal of fabricating facts or misleading the public is easily uncovered. Peter Jennings should go back to Hell. The networks have a handful of real reporters, the rest are nothing more than notekeepers that sit at press conferences being spoon fed the “news” . You can pay high school students to do that and get an equivalent performance. It would work right into their business plan. They’re not actually trying to expose the truth or inform the public. They’re just trying to present a product that looks like the news, but most importantly they want to entertain. The news programs aren’t produced for the news, it’s for the spaces between the news stories. The commercials, the income, the bottom line. I’m a capitalist, but we still need journalists.
You could tell me that the Illuminati is behind the degradation of the news media and I’d believe it because in the dark recesses of my mind I know it to be true. Right now Col. Sanders and Elvis are at an undisclosed location sipping mint juleps while deciding the schedule for breaking news stories next month. Paul Newman is there also. He’s been assigned the prestigious task of rigging NFL games which requires a considerable amount of time for planning, so he had to fake his own death. The NFL is vital tool for distracting the masses during the Fall season. Their bag of tricks is diverse. Not everyone can be distracted so easily and despite their best efforts, professional football is only mildly distracting outside of Sunday and Monday. They understand the moronic majority and have distractions for all shapes, sizes and stupidities—bowling leagues, book signings and the Madison Overture Center to name a few.
The prudent course of action for a responsible citizen would be to find a busy pedestrian area and kick everyone in the shins. You would eventually hurt the Illuminati and they can’t stand for that. Minions would be dispatched, in the form of municipal police, to oppress you. There’s no sense in explaining your actions. They are after all nothing more than witless tools of the Overlords and you’ll face trumped up charges of assault. You’ll be labeled as unstable and dangerous. A history of unsociable and violent acts will be fabricated. Your neighbors will believe the lies, because it was reported by a trusted news source. Forget your trial. All the fancy legal speak is nothing more than a show to establish creditability for your predetermined punishment. The truth is ugly and it’s getting uglier, much like the old lady on Sex in the City.
I know it’s not very civil to point out someone’s beauty impairment, I was simply making a point. I know plenty about ugly. I see myself in the mirror every morning. That sight only gets worse after several sleepless days of heavy drinking. They say beauty is only skin deep and what really matters is on the inside. I’m ugly there too and it is also amplified by serious drinking. I’m hopelessly ugly. I embrace and celebrate that fact. If you’re going to do something, do it well. I’d drink to that if Air Force regulations allowed alcohol in Iraq.
Giving up alcohol while I’m here is not actually much of a hardship. I’m strange enough without and I can easily entertain myself by inducing a proper frenzy. A swallow or so of fine drink would make it easier to talk myself into a bit of serious fun however. There’s a single place on this base that has a well maintained lawn. Obviously someone takes pride in it. Which means some high ranking official makes many low ranking minions work diligently to manicure and water this stretch of grass. The idea occurs to me that with a pickup truck and a sturdy knife I could take this lawn and hold the sod for ransom. It’s been awhile since I’ve demanded a ransom and I’m feeling the itch. Alternatively I could keep the lawn and with a few other supplies attempt to make a whisky. Iraq sod is certainly not Scottish peat, but one must work with the supplies on hand. If some silly chaste monks can develop tasty beverage, I have confidence that I can as well. Remember, brand name is important and my drink shall be called Babylonian Blended Whisky, Bin 1. A mouth watering handle to say the least.
There is a possibility that I’m spending too much time thinking about the election. Last night a perfectly good opportunity for a fantasy about whatever woman has caught my eye was wasted on a dream that took the form of a debate with Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin. I won’t waste the effort trying to recall the details of the dream. I’m disgusted that my subconscious would taunt me with a vivid fiction involving Biden. I fear that this dream was Universe directed. Does destiny demand I spend time thinking about that rat bastard because the moronic majority is apathetic on the issue? Some sort of sick balancing of an unknown energy?
I don’t intend to fear-monger, but the selection of Biden as a running mate unsettles me deeply. There is a definite possibility that Obama will win the election. If that happens, I believe it to very likely, if not inevitable, that he will be assassinated—perhaps before taking office. The writers of history texts would stumble with that for a time. Would he be the first black President if killed before taking the oath? I would have to say no, but I’m certain many would argue otherwise and perhaps name him the honorary first black President.
That historical debate aside, an assassination would elevate a whorish slime to the Presidency. You simple fools don’t have the proper noses to smell the taint coursing through the veins of that swine. Some of you are probably thinking, whorish slime? Taint! (Not that taint, get your mind out of the gutter) Swine? What about Cheney? I’m talking about right here and now. If you have a time machine then we might have something to talk about. Now get your head back on track. Even a casual observer can plainly see that Biden is a sock puppet for the credit industry. But describing any member of the moronic majority as a ‘casual observer’ would be an undeserved compliment.
Don’t you people understand that a dedicated sociopath needs only a credit card, some wits and Home Depot to construct a weapon capable of killing the President-elect or a jumbo jet? To be sure our wacko would probably be more efficient and would option for a high-powered firearm, likely a .30-06 or 7mm rifle. Never underestimate the abilities of a dedicated man with too much time on his hands. Keeping people locked in prison is a hell of a task because those fiendish convicts have much time and mundane objects such as newspapers that can be shrewdly modified to perform devilish tasks. Convicts are more devious than lawyers and that’s saying something.
I struggle with the meaning of irony. I don’t know if the word is applicable in some situations, but I use it regardless. Would it be ironic Obama is killed with a weapon purchased with a credit card issued by the dark overlords that have a fist firmly up Biden’s ass? Or would it be a carefully planned conspiracy rivaling the mob directed executions of the Kennedy boys?
If you didn’t know, the mob controls the credit card industry. If you lend money with a high interest rate from the back office of a run down pawn shop while wearing a jogging suit and gold chains, it’s called loan sharking. If you do it from a downtown office and wear a nice suit, it’s a government approved industry. The mob is not stupid. They diversified by investing their considerable wealth into “legitimate” businesses. You can make anything legitimate if you own enough Senators. It all started decades back when the Kennedy boys announced they would crack down on the business partners of their father. Ol’ Joe handled the negotiations to get JFK into office. Once there, John decided he no longer needed the mob and treated them as a threat to the Kennedy Dynasty. What if they used their influence to manipulate elections against his fathers interests? Camelot went to war with the mob and lost almost everything. The mob went straight for the head, quite literally, and made a pink mist with JFK. Robert failed to receipt the warning and was forcibly retired. Ted got the message and settled into a life of public uselessness. Joe was broken and without his vital contacts, leaving Camelot a smoldering wreckage.
The mob suffered losses however. Many were incarcerated. That which does not kill you, makes you stronger. Some scattered from the traditional seat of power in New York City and settled in New Jersey, St. Louis, Detroit, Chicago and Las Vegas. Detroit and Chicago were fine cities which the mob could exploit and enjoy. Although Detroit descended into an ugly spiral during the 80’s. Las Vegas is an entity unto itself. The mob still quietly controls much of Vegas, but the weirdness and wealth of Howard Hughes broke their monopoly. St. Louis was exploited for a time, but it soured quickly. The mob fled so quickly they left the toilet seat up. The citizens crafted a monument in honor of that event and they call it the St. Louis Arch. New Jersey is another story altogether. From their homes across the river they managed their operations back in the city. However, the spandex, turnpikes and big hair of the Garden State can wear down even the most capable individual. The wisest among the New Jersey family packed their bags and left that landfill for greener pastures in Delaware. Once there they redesigned their tactics, bought some new cloths, sent their children to prestigious universities and with the help of their puppet Senators, crafted our wonderful credit card industry. The traditional goons didn’t fit the new business model, so they were traded in for lawyers, lobbyists, campaign volunteers and candidates. Biden is one of their goons. He’s not a very eloquent and wasn’t high profile, but he ultimately proved himself useful by assisting with their collection efforts by pushing through new bankruptcy laws.
It’s not even fair to call these Delaware gangsters ‘The Mob’. They are something much more dangerous and fearsome. Gone are the down in the gutter, bloody hand tactics that you could at least fight against if you had the grit. The new methods are much more loathsome and frighteningly legal. They’ve succeeded in transforming something sinister into a legitimate business that destroys thousands of lives each month and receives the seal of approval from the Federal government.
I hope I’m wrong about Obama being assassinated. I’m no anarchist and I’d like to believe we can all work together to at least inflict a minimal amount of harm upon each other. But hell, if you want anarchy I’ll be the one laughing. I have the means, will and skills to protect me and mine. The moronic majority would be dead in less than a year if the system came crashing down. Enough of this anarchy talk. I’m trying to make a point. Stop sidetracking the conversation. Why the hell did Obama pick Biden? What message does that send? I have to believe that Obama plans on being President. Why select this Officer of Scum Villainy? Is there something more sinister at work here that even my highly adapt nose has failed to detect? Is Obama a sleeper agent for the Chicago mob? Is there a time line that reaches all the way back to that hellish year of ‘68? The New Mob was born out of that chaotic year and it was a truly traumatic birth. The felling of the Kennedy boys paved the way for mass riots that fateful week in Chicago. I suspect the mob ordered the riots as further punishment to the Democrats for the Kennedy betrayal. It was well within their ability. Daley was their man. Evidence supports the accusation that the police instigated the riots. A few bad cops and a few thugs mingled in with the protesters is all it would take to ignite that powder keg.
I have no doubt that the mob never surrendered their power in Chicago. The Daley Dynasty, their puppets, is celebrated like saints. How many Chicago politicians are on the payroll? How many have they groomed for higher office? This speculation will only lead to ulcers. I have no intent on defecating blood, so I’ll bring this thought process to idle. These kind of thoughts are easier contemplated with a fermented sedative and for now I am without. Once I’m in the mood for serious fun I’ll get that lawn and begin taking corrective action on this beverage issue.
Expect further writings of unabashed truth for the next few months. I have much time inside my head and the madness is only stilled by speaking its name.