Why I Write– George Orwell 1946

A beautifully written short essay that everyone who writes should read.  At one point Orwell lays out the four main reasons people write.   This one leaped out at me:

(iii) Historical impulse. Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.

Fancy that!

The essay, a quick and rewarding read, is here.

also HERE

 

 

State Park in Bizzaro World

Driving south on the Taconic Parkway last night, about fifty miles north of New York City, we passed a brown state park sign that read: Donald J. Trump State Park.  A true WTF moment, particularly when the next brown sign we passed, a minute or two later, was for Franklin D. Roosevelt (flash-in-the-pan presidential mediocrity and friend of Frederick Douglass, who people are saying burned down the White House) State Park, which is, unaccountably yet undeniably, an actual state part.  

We were both shocked at the sign for the New York State Park named for our still-living celebrity president and, seeing another brown state park sign for WTF State Park after the exit for FDR State Park, actually pulled off the Taconic at Exit 14 to have a look.  I hoped to snap a photo of the park sign with which to bait my hapless liberal friends.

There was no sign pointing in the direction of the park once we exited the parkway (for reasons you can instantly learn below) and, as it was dark black country night, we made a sideways loop on the deserted road and headed south again.  

I texted a friend about the existence of this State Park and he wrote something to the effect that you can’t make this shit up.

Back home I consulted Jeevsie, in the form of Google, and got a result I immediately emailed to that same friend, who this time wrote: I see a pattern emerging.

Check it out for yourself, the jaunty punchline is very much worth the click and 1.2 second wait.  You just need to scroll through the first few search result blurbs to learn most of the story.  Wonderful, horrible shit.  

Clickez HERE, s’il vous plait.

And God bless these United States, with a special tip of the cap to New York State and the very fine partisan (or collegial) imbeciles (some of the finest imbeciles, very, very fine imbeciles) who got this done for the indomitable, deal-making POTUS who has indelibly branded making your name a very fine brand, the finest brand, the classiest brand, the sexiest brand.

Only in America, folks.

a small army of creepy bot followers

I have noticed, during the last year or so, that any time I post something about Nazis, totalitarianism, authoritarianism, Hitler, Himmler, Eichmann, anything mentioning “the president” in a critical light or dwelling for more than a sentence on vexing current events, a small flurry of emails arrives, informing me of new “followers”.   These are not like the ordinary “followers” one may get, fellow bloggers whose “follow” comes with a short list of their posts that WordPress decides you might be interested in reading.  These arrive with no identifying information, no links to themselves, just a “follow” and a randomly generated name that ends @outlook.com.

 They have names like  Jigghitnaxlerd@outlook.com, snitpusscx@outlook.com, Obertfuhrnazdik@outlook.com, Fckyuparanojw@outlook.com.  These fanatical new followers are, from all appearances, some kind of bots.  I mentioned this to Sekhnet, and the fact that I now have a few dozen of these inhuman “followers”.  She agreed it was creepy, told me I should write a post about it.  Might as well, if for no better reason than to share the paranoia.

We live in times where you don’t have to be a paranoiac to be paranoid.  We are spied on by our own government, we have known since Edward Snowden’s revelations (five new followers) that secret American spy agencies have been intercepting and storing billions of private communications between average Americans, probably trillions.   The guy who revealed the massive scope of this secretive, illegal data collection is a wanted fugitive.  President Obama (of the self-proclaimed transparent administration) wanted to try him under the Espionage Act of 1917, a harsh rarely used law that does not allow intent as a defense and carries severe punishments including the death penalty.  Snowden (follower) would be toast under the draconian World War One statute designed to crush American dissent about entering the War to End All Wars, the War to Make the World Safe for Democracy and global Free Trade (follower).

Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to spy on you, monitor your activities, if necessary persecute you, kill you, or at least discredit and cripple you (follower).  With Snowden, Obama never threatened him with the death penalty, just dared him to be a man, an American, come forward to face justice and accept a prison stretch of, say, thirty years or so, like the sentence Manning got, after many months of inhumane confinement and mistreatment international experts, like the UN’s Special Rapporteur (follower) on Torture (follower) called “torture” (there I go again, he called it merely “cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment”, nothing to see here!) [1] (follower)  for releasing, among other things, a video of Americans gleefully committing war crimes in Iraq (six more bot followers).   You know, we are a nation of laws.  You do know that, right?

It is well to recall the current president’s 80,000 vote victory in the Electoral College, (follower) brilliantly engineered by swinging the necessary tiny margin of votes in a handful of crucial districts his way (follower),  which gave him every single elector in each state he needed to beat the opponent he kept threatening to lock up, had crowds chanting “Lock Her Up!” (ten more followers).  If he had his way, it would not be my way, that’s for sure.  

Which leaves the highway, I suppose, except for the roadblocks to check if I am a well-disguised non-Spanish speaking Mexican criminal, or a Mexican with an outstanding parking ticket, grounds enough for ICE (follower) to get on my case, detain me, or someone smuggling prescription drugs for sale to desperate drug addicts.  Or simply a jerk-off too vociferously speaking my political mind, as the First Amendment gives me the right to do, unless I am inciting violence, which I am not, bot.

We now know that the 2016 presidential candidate who made such brilliant use of Twitter was shrewdly aided in his outreach by troll farms for hire, virtual places full of tireless bots, retweeting, liking, loving, commenting, driving up the statistics and the influence of his tweets, to make America realize that literally tens of millions of loyal followers were hanging on this prolific twitterer’s every tweet, millions instantly loving the things this refreshingly candid candidate was shooting from the hip (four more followers).    

Brave new world, or cowardly new world, it’s not for me to say.  I am as opinionated as the next person, IMHO, but it is hard to opine about things that are hidden, seem creepy, seem to show the cold, dead hand of some ruthless, mechanized  digital motherfucker at work, tireless as a maliciously programmed Belorussian hate bot. For every “motherfucker” a new follower.  Oh, well.  God bless these United States!

 

[1]    I quote:

The UN special rapporteur on torture has formally accused the US government of cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment towards Bradley Manning, the US soldier who was held in solitary confinement for almost a year on suspicion of being the WikiLeaks source.

Juan Mendez has completed a 14-month investigation into the treatment of Manning since the soldier’s arrest at a US military base in May 2010. He concludes that the US military was at least culpable of cruel and inhumane treatment in keeping Manning locked up alone for 23 hours a day over an 11-month period in conditions that he also found might have constituted torture.

“The special rapporteur concludes that imposing seriously punitive conditions of detention on someone who has not been found guilty of any crime is a violation of his right to physical and psychological integrity as well as of his presumption of innocence,” Mendez writes.

source

(three followers)

Did the Nazis actually win World War Two? (part two)

The following series of frustrating interactions with corporations involved in my medical care got me thinking how thoroughly the world now seems to run on the principles laid out, for corporations, by the famous Nazi party that ran one of the most powerful modern industrialized nations in the world for twelve of their planned thousand year rule.  These principles extend beyond lying, advertising falsely, assuming no responsibility for anything, blaming the victims, into how individual customers are cared for.  Nazi methods, once shocking, are now the routine way masses of people with any kind of problem are treated. 

Sounds overwrought, I know, to compare the now standard corporate runarounds  to techniques perfected in the Third Reich, but bear with me and you may yet be persuaded I am not merely talking through my tin foil yarmulke.  The amount of stamina and self-possession needed to have a corporation fix it’s own error, no matter how minor, is incredible.  We are often exhausted and resigned before we actually get to speak to a human.  This too is part of Nazi-inspired design.  Think about it.

The burden for correcting corporate mistakes always falls to the consumer.  Fair enough, why would a corporation care about a mistake, as long as it’s getting paid?   Profit is the bottom line, not worrying about the gripes of malcontents here and there.  A series of hurdles are erected to limit the number of complaints the lowest paid workers of any corporation will be forced to listen to on any given shift.  

It is fairly standard to have to navigate 3-5 minutes of robotic prompts and advertising, along with requests to stay on the line for a survey about the “service we are about to provide” before being placed on hold to wait for human representatives who are all busy helping other customers.  They urge you to handle your problem via their website, which enables each problem to be dealt with in a fraction of the time (if at all) and at a tiny percentage of the cost of having humans talking to other humans on the phone.

I’m not naive.  I get it.  Hire enough representatives to help everyone you are providing poor service to, without the long waits, and you cut directly into the corporate bottom line.  A ten minute hold, with blaring, nerve jangling muzak, to talk to customer service weeds out a good proportion of the whiners waiting helplessly in line to express how pissed off they are about some trifle or another.  It is simply the way it is done today in our era of global corporatism.   Corporations do what is best for corporate profits and that’s that, ask the U.S. Supreme Court if you don’t believe us.  You got something to say?  Please continue to hold, we thank you for your patience, your business is very important to us.

I was hit with a nice triple or quadruple whammy the other day just trying to get renewals for prescription drugs I’ve been taking daily for the last few years.   After weeks of looking for a physical therapist to help me with my stiff, painful knees who accepts my insurance, I took a break from leaving voicemails that were never returned and walked up to a nearby address provided by my insurance company and next week I’ll be evaluated for PT.  

“Evaluated?” I said, “I just gave you the doctor’s referral, detailing exactly what PT services I need and why.”

“We have to examine you first and submit a report to your insurance company and wait for approval before we can provide any services, that’s the law,” the pleasant receptionist told me.   Then she said that this approval ordinarily takes no more than two weeks.   Which will only make a total of five weeks since I was referred for physical therapy by the doctor who examined me.  

I vented a bit about American medical care, making sure my satirical, semi-humorous presentation was coming through as nonthreatening and ironic.  I was rewarded with a sympathetic smile from the receptionist who told me kindly that it might be less than two weeks, sometimes it’s much faster.

When I got home I followed up again on the status of getting my prescriptions renewed, a blood pressure drug, a statin and megadose Vitamin D, after hours of wasted calls with the corporation who dispenses them.  I’d had a long discussion with a rep named Don, at CVS Caremark, on May 25th.  Don assured me that he’d contact my doctor and get the prescriptions sent over to CVS Caremark, that I’d have the pills long before my dwindling supplies ran out.  

He then asked me to hold one more time, this was 48 minutes or so into our call.  I asked if he needed more information from me.  He told me he didn’t and agreed he could call me back if there was any problem processing the order.

The only problem is, reasonable as this may sound, that is not their corporate procedure.  If the customer does not stay on hold until the very end, the call is recorded as “customer disconnected” which was the notation Don made on my call, after assuring me everything was cool.  It was all cool for Don, why the hell wouldn’t it be?  The man has a job he loves, living the dream.  

Maybe Don wasn’t as amused as the receptionist pretended to be by my witty send-ups of our sickeningly broken profit-driven American health care system.  Maybe he was politely seething under his MAGA hat, imagining this demanding and ruthless prick he was dealing with, someone who expected to just be let off the line after only 48 minutes, at least five of them spent whining at tedious, didactic length, about the corporatocracy we all take for granted as simply the way the world is.

I learned my order was not being processed only by following up ten days later, when I hadn’t received the promised email confirmations of my order.   After only ten minutes on hold, and repeating all of my identifying info again, I was told the notes the corporation had for my May 25th call stated that the customer had prematurely disconnected from call, with the predictable result that no action could be taken on this jerk’s behalf.

An hour into my follow up call I conferenced in the doctor’s office where all the details were laid out by CVS Caremark rep Liz (only authorized to wait on hold for up to two minutes, exactly, she told me as she instructed me what to find out from the doctor’s office).  I put her on the line with the doctor’s receptionist, after a mere 35 second hold for Liz,  in a conference call and continued taking detailed notes.  Everything seemed to be straightened out, at last, and not a moment too soon.

This, sadly, didn’t result in the prompt resolution of my quest to have my prescriptions refilled.  One reason I prefer dealing with my local pharmacy, before they told me a few weeks back that my business was no good there.   I got an email from CVS in error, as it turned out, informing me that only one of my three prescriptions were listed on the order, which was pending.  

I followed the prompts and logged into the CVS Caremark website where I was able to confirm that only one of the three medications my doctor’s receptionist and the CVS Caremark rep had discussed was on order.  

I wrote a note to CVS Caremark in an attempt to fix this, have them update my prescription order, only to find myself in a permanent error loop “you have failed to update your email address” (which I had done by then two or three times).  Twenty five minutes of this was enough to convince me there was a technical problem with the ineptly written code for their website.  In order to get tech support with the website you must be able to send a message, after logging in.  Seamless and fucking brilliant, actually.

I thought of my former friend Andy and his ilk, mad fucking programmers and coders, well-paid guys on the Asperger’s Spectrum with no clue about humans, except as to erring like one.  The “Contact us” link on the website, of course, required you to be logged in.  You can’t contact anyone unless you update your email address in your profile, or even if you do.  Only option is to go through the standard four minutes of robot prompts and hold to wait to talk to a low paid human, who probably can’t help you anyway.  (Turns out she can’t).

Called the doctor’s office two days later to follow up on the status of the prescriptions.  The receptionist told me she’d left me a message.   My phone showed no messages or missed calls, then, when I went to renew the voice mail list, informed me again that it was unable to synchronize my messages because I  was not connected to a data network (I was).  

An hour call with T-Mobile tech support allowed me to hear the voicemail from the doctor’s office, a forty second tour de force of confusion and obtuseness.  I had Sekhnet leave me a voice mail to test it out, make sure the glitch with the voicemail was actually fixed.  “Error.  Unable to synchronize because you are not connected to the data network”.  

Another call to T-Mobile, another hour.  This time I got a $20 credit from the Nazi fucks (T-Mobile is a German corporation, originally) and delivered a few concise, impassioned but not overwrought, analyses of the inhuman treatment we are forced to take for granted in our corporate world that actually got great praise from the Indian kid I was talking to, the guy who granted me the $20 credit for the hassle I was in the middle of.   He “escalated” my complaint and I had a long pleasant chat with Leo, at the next level of tech support expertise, who couldn’t fix the problem either but promised to re-escalate my situation and get back to me ASAP with the fix (a mere 24 hours ago).  Leo sent me a text to this effect, with his identifying information.

 I am still unable to get voice mail, or log-in to CVS “Caremark” to update my prescriptions, but I am assured that everybody is working hard on my case(s) and I’m sincerely promised that everything will work out, as long as I’m as patient as…

By the way, remaining on the line the other day to the bitter end of a long chat with Liz (not to repeat the nonconsensual phone sex I’d had with untruthful Don), I  learned from the CVS Caremark rep that my pharmacy, who she contacted while I held one last time,  was not being paid by my insurance because they hadn’t updated my insurance information on their computer.  They had my old insurance policy listed, with a non-working customer ID number, and their bills submitted under that number were therefore rejected.

I dread to make the follow up call to CVS Caremark, now weeks after my original request to have the prescriptions renewed and filled by them, to find out why only my statin now seems to be on order.  (A few days ago only my blood pressure medication was on file).

In a country that was not obsessed with eternal, existential “competition” to separate God’s chosen winners (ubermenschen) from all the faceless fucking loser parasites (untermenschen, lebensunwertes leben, the “useless eaters”), masses of people with no rights a winner is bound to respect, it would not be quite so difficult to resolve simple fuck ups by the companies we deal with every day.   But that is the kind of dreamy sentiment only someone not sufficiently impressed with the importance of the corporate bottom line would express.  The dreamy Koombaya hallucination of a fucking born loser (note: most of us losers are born that way, as is the case for most winners).

“Please continue to hold, the Obersturmbannführer will be on the line shortly to facilitate your unrequested relocation eastward.  Meantime, try to control your fucking blood pressure without drugs, loser.  And dig this five second loop, played over and over at sudden wildly increased volume for the next ten minutes, by our house band, the Ultrasadistic Nervejanglers.  We think you’ll dig it, and if you don’t, oops.  Have a nice day and, please, for the love of all that is holy, continue to hold.”

The case for the Nazis having won World War Two (part one)

Mr. Hitler, one of a small, select group of abused children I love to hate, eventually came to believe it was the Jews, not his violent, enraged, authoritarian father, who had fucked him up.   Hitler blamed the Jews for betraying the glorious German army in November of 1918, the army that was never defeated on the battlefield but only by the “stab in the back”, Jews wielding their fiendish powers to force a victorious, superior army to surrender to their inferiors under humiliating terms.   There are klansmen who feel the same way about the end of the Civil War– that it was the goddamned Negroes… somehow… to blame, for all the horrific shit that followed the unjust loss in the South’s heroic war for control of their homeland, their genteel way of life.   Horrific shit that irrationally angry, out of control Blacks are still trying to blame the damn Whites for, according to the Klan.   These fanatical bigots blame the Blacks for forcing the bigots to intimidate and lynch them so they don’t run amok.   Animals!  Violent revenge is the only answer, scream those who dream only of violent revenge.

One of Hitler’s more perceptive followers, it may have been the club-footed Poisonous Dwarf, master of the casting couch Dr. Josef Goebbels, commented that if the Nazis were victorious they would be seen by future generations as all-time great statesmen, while if they lost the war they started they’d be regarded as history’s greatest criminals.  A smart way to put it, I think.   The third possibility never occurred to the fanatical fuck: we can lose the war, and be regarded as history’s most despicable criminals, and win the peace by influencing the next hundred years of history in profound ways unimaginable now as I execute my children, our dog, my wife and prepare to shoot myself in the mouth following the Fuhrer’s final divinely inspired (or mad — it is not our place to question) order.

After the war, many prominent Nazis were secretly recruited by our country’s new secret intelligence agency, now heading into a long Cold War, for their expertise in dealing with Communists.   These Nazis exerted a certain influence in their adopted country, on the ruthless calculations of the organizations they worked in, but it is more the working methods pioneered by the Nazis in their own country that I am thinking of.  

I will get back to the many common daily experiences in our modern world that are proofs of how profoundly the lessons of the pioneering Nazi media machine have influenced all sorts of commercial, corporate, political and military behaviors that affect all of us every day.  I will argue, for example, that corporate customer service, where you almost never get to speak to the supervisor who can actually do something for you, owes a lot to the Nazi model.  In that model the expendable individual is an afterthought, unless he’s privileged, in which case, you know, he must be helped.  It is the corporate imperative, the needs of the leader, that must always be served.  How these common corporate policies translate into increasing rage, powerlessness, dehumanization, a hopeless willingness to blow everything up, even if it means authoritarianism, is worth having a look at.  I’ll return to this main point in part two.

I am listening to a spirited reading of Hannah Arendt’s contemporaneous account of Eichmann’s trial in Jerusalem, published in 1963.  The reader, Wanda McCaddon, reads it wonderfully.   It feels like I am hearing the voice of the author herself, who is also a gifted and expressive reader of her own work.  It is hard to stop listening, it is endlessly fascinating, I love it.   I am falling hard for Ms. Arendt (1906-1975), who, quite apparently, didn’t give a rat’s ass who she offended in her quest for the deeper truths of Eichmann’s show trial.  

She shot from the hip, she was hip, she was brilliant, arch and sincere by turns, deeply read in the historical matters she discussed (a native German speaker she devoured primary sources — including the 3,500 page transcript of Eichmann’s pre-trail interviews, in German, and understood every word and nuance Eichmann and the Court, three German-Jewish judges, exchanged), she wrote beautifully, saying clearly whatever was on her mind, managing to offend everybody, and clearly seemed fine with that.  

One example:  in passing she notes that the anti-Semitic Eichmann had been required to read, and been impressed by, Zionist icon Theodore Herzl’s manifesto Der Judenstaat (“The Jewish State”), the only book the mediocre, uncurious Eichmann had ever read, according to Arendt.  Google refers to the book as a pamphlet, which is even better.

She gives some credence to Eichmann’s claim that the “Final Solution” (kill all of them, especially the babies, the ghastly method arrived at and set forth at the top secret Wannsee Conference, once the previous solutions proved insufficient) was possibly not his preferred way of dealing with the Thousand Year Reich’s intractable Jewish problem.  Eichmann was personally very squeamish, had never killed anyone himself, couldn’t watch gassings or shootings when invited to by death camp commandants,  and hated the idea of mass murder, or so he insisted (Arendt seems to back him up on all but the last of these– he clearly had no problem with mass murder, whatever distaste to the contrary he might have expressed as his life hung in the balance).

The Nazi official initially tasked with getting all Jews to emigrate out of Germany, Eichmann spent a long time formulating various emigration plans.  His basic plan was to get all of the Jews out of Germany, out of German controlled territories, and send them to a Nazi-controlled Jewish State.  Madagascar was one place the Nazis  considered, just send 4-5 million fucking Jews there and let them fight it out with the 4 million fucking Africans already living there, all overseen by impartial Nazi overlords.  

Zionists were understandably outraged by Arendt’s tart suggestion (an ironic aside, clearly) that Eichmann had been, for all intents and purposes, a pragmatic Zionist. She had other unflattering things to say about Zionist leaders, some of whom made pragmatic deals with the Nazis during the war.  These leaders, naturally, preferred less conversation about those pragmatic deals.    Much of what people excoriated Arendt for (many of her most vocal detractors had apparently never read her book)  related to how cooly she seemed to approach the horrendous history she brilliantly outlined, how she used phrases like “grotesque silliness” to refer to some of Eichmann’s more asinine pronouncements, including the stream of cliches he spouted as the noose was placed on his neck.   Her book was not published in Israel, in Hebrew, until 35 years after it’s publication in the U.S.   

I can’t resist an Arendt-tinged thought:  Eichmann’s dream of a Nazi-controlled Jewish state… hmmm… tempting to opine about how, in an odd way, his dream may have come perversely true, at least as shown by the current state’s defense of its most controversial policies, policies that involve the indiscriminate murder of civilians and maintaining concentration camp conditions for many of the millions under their occupation.

What makes a Nazi type is blind obedience to power, a willingness to do whatever is required to show loyalty to your superiors, to advance the infallible leader’s program, and your own career. The Nazis had a word for it, fuhrerprinzip*,  the absolute duty to obey the orders of your supreme leader, orders that are always wise, just and beyond question.   If you are in the party inner circle, the SS, for example, you swear a blood oath of personal loyalty to the leader, loyalty to the death.  No national, moral or personal consideration is of higher value than serving your master with unwavering loyalty.  In fact, you’ve expressly agreed to die before putting anything above the Fuhrer’s commands.

There were, obviously, great rewards for those who climbed the Nazi hierarchy, distinguished themselves by their fanatical devotion to the Fuhrer.    There was not even a need for a highly enough placed Nazi to make any hard sacrifice of beloved things, even if those things were expressly forbidden by Nazi policy.  Hermann Goring, a bloated morphine addict, had a large collection of plundered, incredibly valuable “degenerate art,” art works explicitly banned from Germany.  Vice is fine, if you’re cool, and in a powerful enough post.  Fucking Eichmann had a Jewish mistress in Vienna, although “rassenschande” (“race disgrace”, an anti-miscegenation law like the ones here in the USA for decades) was a serious crime under Hitler.  Just because Nazi policy was at one point to execute homosexuals as degenerates doesn’t mean a high enough ranking Nazi with a taste for boys couldn’t have as many handsome, fit, willing young men as he could requisition.  It just had to be done discreetly.   The rules are always flexible at the top, in any hierarchy, particularly in a corrupt one.  The higher you go the fewer consequences you face, except, perhaps, if you lose the war and face trial for war crimes.  God, how much does that suck?

One looks in vain for a rational “ideology” in any totalitarian state.   The role of the citizen in an authoritarian regime is not to understand the changing whims of her superiors, or the ostensible reasons for them, in fact, the real reasons are rarely, if ever, revealed to citizens.  The citizen’s only duty is obedience to authority and for that reason commands are put in the simplest, most compelling terms.   The choice is obedience or severe punishment, often death. 

The roster of top Nazis, people with the arbitrary power of life and death over everybody under their authority,  is a Who’s Who of disturbingly mediocre and often disturbingly disturbed individuals.  Don’t look for consistency, or a coherent worldview in the Third Reich, outside of power and blind ambition.  Look for ambitious, morally flexible people twisted by a charismatic sociopath’s shabby revenge fantasy, thirstily chasing their dream of power and a chance to be a major player on the stage of world history.  How many followers would Mr. Hitler, the world’s most photographed man in his day, Time Magazine’s Man of the Year in 1938, a mega-celebrity in the pre-television age, eventually a super-villain to rival any,  have had on Twitter?   I shudder to think.  

Speaking of unwavering consistency in one’s iron-clad beliefs, we learn from Arendt that Hitler himself, history’s most virulent and prolifically mass murdering anti-Semite, had literally something like four hundred Jews (356, actually) he personally spared, for one reason or another.  I thought about this for a long time before coming to the obvious answer.   The reason Hitler exempted hundreds of Jews from his death sentence was the same reason he killed millions of other Jews– because he was insane.

Eichmann, when he was read into the “Final Solution” at the Wannsee Conference, where he acted as secretary, taking the minutes of the secret meeting (which were, of course, destroyed) became officially designated a “bearer of secrets.”  This designation meant he had to strictly abide by strict Language Regulations, use only the Nazi sanctioned euphemistic language to refer to the secret mass-murder, words like sonderbehandlung (special treatment) instead of “expedited trip to the death camp,” mild phrases like “resettlement in the east” (Auschwitz).   Lying this way was required of all “secrets bearers” and everybody else.  

The Nazis were cynical masters of euphemism, they seemed to get a kick out of it, a kind of Nazi puckishness at work.   This Nazi tic has been widely imitated by many of today’s leaders and industries, who speak reassuringly out of their asses while committing unspeakable secret evils.  Here in the USA the proposed Clear Skies Act [1], is as good an example as that famous Nazi sign over Auschwitz, Arbeit Macht Frei (work liberates).   Goldman-Sachs, major players in, and beneficiaries of, the massive systemic  financial frauds of  a decade ago, are sponsors of the great Terry Gross’s Fresh Air.  The Koch Brothers, now sponsors of the NY Yankees broadcasts, tout their commitment to a level playing field for the permanent underclass.

The Nazis were famous for the audacity of their lies.  Why tell the truth when a lie can immediately galvanize a nation, if it is told over and over and anyone who contradicts it can be given special treatment, or resettled in the east?  The “Big Lie” was a technique pioneered by Reichsminister of Propaganda and Public Enlightenment, lady’s man Dr. Josef Goebbels.  You repeat the most inflammatory lie you can think of, the one that will cause maximum fear and rage against the enemy, over and over.  The bigger the better, say it over and over in the mass media, hammer it every day, many times a day.  If people don’t actually believe it, the constant repetition of the lie wears down their ability to actively disbelieve it after enough repetitions.  The only thing that is needed for the Big Lie to become the practical truth is to silence all other voices when you broadcast the lie.

The Nazi state immediately Nazified one profession after another (gleichshaltung — “coordination”) and took complete control over the mass media.  Every newspaper article, magazine piece, radio broadcast and newsreel was prepared and supervised by Nazis.  Every news source told the same story.  Truthfulness and lying in the mass media become irrelevant if there is no way for a citizen to hear an opposing view or verify as fact anything claimed on the state run mass media.  Dictators appreciate the flexibility that kind of control of public opinion affords.

Tell an audacious lie, a shocking lie.  Your hated opponent is planning a vast betrayal!  Here is the fake proof, look!   Here is one of the conspirator’s full confession, with pictures of the guilty looking malefactor.   Dress some German political prisoners in Polish uniforms, shoot them at the German-Polish border et, voila, casus belli for invading Poland!   Doesn’t matter what the lie is, as long as it makes your followers’ blood boil, prepares them for the just, merciless retaliation of the State that will be done in their names.   Things like children being plucked from their mother’s arms, thrown on the ground as the wailing mother is shot…. nobody needs to know about something like that.  You know?  Cattle cars crammed full of doomed “enemies of the State” continuously running to massive death factories in the East, merely lies told by those who hate our Nazi freedom.

The first thing a dictator must do is destroy the credibility of his enemies.  Who are you going to believe, me or your lying eyes?  Sheesh.   The mass murder of the fucking Jews?  Really?  Are you kidding me? Who would do something like that? Fucking Jew propaganda, don’t fall for it, son.  You know what they’re like, how treacherous they are.  They’ll stop at nothing to seduce or rape all our women, our daughters, our mothers, our sisters, our wives, dig up the corpses of our grandmothers, rape them, these fucking people…. obsessed with corrupting our DNA, you know what they’re like!  Why would you believe them when your Fuhrer is standing right here, telling you what you already know, that they’re fucking liars?

Can I get a nice “Heil Hitler!” mein friends?

 (to be continued)

 

[*]  The Führerprinzip [ˈfyːʀɐpʀɪnˌtsiːp]  (German for “leader principle”) prescribed the fundamental basis of political authority in the governmental structures of the Third Reich.

[1]    The beautifully named law Dubya Bush proposed would have allowed industrial polluters to spew toxins in the air if the cost of not doing so would be prohibitively expensive to the polluters:

 Environmentalists were already worried about a 2003 EPA rule that weakens the “New Source Review” provision (1977) of the Clean Air Act.  This means that when industrial facilities make upgrades to plants that increase air pollution, even by hundreds of thousands of tons, if the improvements cost less than 20% of the replacement value of the “process units,” the plant doesn’t have to install modern pollution controls. According to one study, the failure to install modern pollution controls at 51 plants (involved in enforcement cases) is responsible for 5,000 to 9,000 premature deaths and 80,000 to 120,000 asthma attacks every year.

 source

Lessons from Eichmann

My picture of this evil motherfucker has long been of a diligent bureaucrat, a clerk, a banal, unremarkable man, a fanatical assistant fanatically doing his infernal job.  I got the banality idea from Hannah Arendt who covered the 1961 trial of Eichmann in Jerusalem and wrote about the stupid ordinariness of Eichmann.  I read one of the long New Yorker essays that later was incorporated into the book, it may have been the essay that gave the book its famous subtitle: A Report on the Banality of Evil.  The real danger, she wrote, was not from “monsters” or evil outliers but from ordinary people doing horrible things in the name of some insane idea they slavishly, even moronically, believe in. [1]   Fucking happens all the time.  It was only recently that I understood that Adolf Eichmann was also this guy, with the death’s head on his fucking hat:

Eichmann_1942.jpg

Eichmann never completed high school, and wasn’t one of the major architects or engineers of the Final Solution, Mr. Hitler’s ultimate idea of what to do with people he imagined were inferior, terminally toxic and devoted to the destruction of the great Aryan “master race”.   Eichmann was simply the hardworking Nazi who kept the trains to the death camps packed, running on a tight schedule, made sure the killing machine was up and running full bore at all times.  Mr. Hitler, we note, was a famously insane monster, as ragingly mad as he was mediocre.   Just look at these two pictures, I think it’s enough said:

 

baby Hitler with adult Hitler.jpg

Israeli agents tracked and captured Eichmann, who was living incognito in Argentina. Thankfully, they didn’t find his location and drop a Hellfire missile on his fastidious Nazi ass from a Predator drone.  The technology didn’t exist in 1961, but the Israeli agents who caught him could have just as easily gagged him, hung him upside down, made a few deep cuts and let him die a long, slow, painful death.    Instead they kidnapped the mass murdering bureaucrat and brought him back to face justice in Jerusalem.

To face justice, let us think for a moment about what this means.   Setting out the crimes charged, publicly, in a way a jury can understand.  Making the case by presenting witnesses, victims, other documentary evidence.  Letting the accused defend himself against the charges.  Arriving at a just outcome after a fair and open trial.

Justice requires this careful process, making sure the State is only punishing someone who has been shown to be guilty of the specific crimes charged, beyond the shadow of a reasonable doubt.  Justice isn’t taking Saddam Hussein out of his cell in the middle of the night, after a summary secret trial, and hanging him in secret, the only record a blurry cellphone video.  That’s called Texas Justice, which is another euphemism for lynching.   Texas, the state that leads the world in executions, and before that led the world in necktie parties.   Not always after a fair and impartial trial, heh, no, not always, pardner.  Not the way justice, also known as fairness, is arrived at, needless to say.

Eichmann’s trial made must-see TV in 1961, it was filmed live by a camera crew, directed by an American filmmaker who’d been blacklisted during the dark days of McCarthyism, and broadcast daily.  It was broadcast worldwide (in over thirty countries)  by an American television network.   The BBC made an excellent film about the televised trial, The Eichmann Show, that incorporates Eichmann himself maintaining his grim composure in that glass cube and includes some of the horrific footage shown to the world for the first time during that trial.  You can see the movie on Netflix, I recommend it.  Eichmann sat in the specially constructed bulletproof glass  booth, two armed guards behind him.  He sits there listening, usually impassively, sometimes looking like this:

 

Eichman 1960.jpg 

The banal bureaucrat, who made sure millions were shipped out to be murdered with maximum efficiency, showed little emotion as a hundred and twelve survivors described the living hell Eichmann had done his best to make possible.   Then he was forced, along with the people packed into the gigantic courtroom in Jerusalem and the rest of the worldwide viewing audience, to watch clip after clip from movies taken by the Nazis, showing life and death in the death camps.  

These clips were shown on TV, the monstrous images broadcast everywhere to be seen by the world for the first time.  Walking skeletons, a bulldozer pushing a hundred jiggling skin-covered skeletons into a burial pit, hopeless, emaciated faces, expressionless, dragging dead comrades.   The kind of visceral, moving images that, in a much smaller dose, made me projectile vomit when I first saw them as a kid.  [2]

In 1961, for the first time, the world saw the visual proof of what the Nazis actually did to fulfill their murderous Fuhrer’s wildest dreams during their Thousand Year Reich.  What doomed Eichmann was not merely the stories told by the one hundred and twelve traumatized survivors who testified, it was also the documentary footage shot by the Nazis themselves.  The Nazis considered what they were doing God’s work, as their type always does.  God wanted them to kill all Jews, Gypsies, Communists, Socialists, Social Democrats, Homosexuals, Intellectuals, non-fascist leadership, genetic defectives and enemies of every kind.  Hitler told them so, and clearly, Hitler, chosen by God Himself as Germany’s savior, knew best what God wanted.   Eichmann appeared to have no regrets, he was only doing his job and he did it at a very high level, a level he seemed to be proud of.  Not everybody can handle overseeing the killing of several million people!   He bragged about being ready to leap laughing into his grave, so satisfied at the millions he’d killed.

 

Eichman quizzical.jpg

The young state of Israel did not have the death penalty.  When Eichmann was found guilty, apparently still convinced he’d committed no crime, the Israeli judge said that although they did not have the death penalty in Israel they’d make an exception in Mr. Eichmann’s case.

Shortly before he was executed, after his appeal failed in the Israeli Supreme Court, Eichmann wrote a request for clemency.

EICHMANN-simian fear grin and handwriting.jpg

That’s part of his clemency request, I love the photo, his great expression, and the way someone has composited it next to his meticulously neat handwriting. Here is the last paragraph of his request for clemency [3], written in a slightly more harried hand:

Eichmann request for clemency.jpg

The request was denied.

My thoughts went from Eichmann in Jerusalem to Jerusalem today, the divided, bitterly contested holy city that now is home to the new U.S. Consulate General in Israel.   A former lunatic fringe right-wing extremist member of Israeli Parliament, Avigdor Lieberman, a Jew from the Soviet Union, is now Defense Minister of Israel under Prime Minister Netanyahu.  Lieberman’s party is called “Israel is our home”, meaning, for their purposes, “not your fucking home, Arab scum”.   He has had many radical, often ugly, proposals for how to deal with Arabs in Israel and the occupied territories he believes God gave to Israel.  Under his orders Israel now shoots to kill anyone who opposes Israel or its eternal, aggressive, often brutal occupation of land captured in the 1967 war.   God, apparently, told Mr. Lieberman it was fine.  

Instead of rubber bullets or water cannons to break up demonstrations, assuming a government has a right to use those brutal, but non-lethal forms of violence against unarmed civilian demonstrators, just shoot these fucks with live ammunition.  It’s fine.  Shoot them in the thigh, in the chest, shoot them without worrying about it, because, as Lieberman says, there are no innocent people in Gaza.   Call them all terrorists and kill as many as you want, let the world’s anti-Semites criticize, they always do, they irrationally hate us, no matter what we do.  Gaza is sometimes called the world’s largest, most densely packed, open air concentration camp.  Only by anti-Semites, according to the Avigdor Liebermans of the world.

It is generally a bad idea to compare people to Nazis, it’s incendiary and tends to end rational conversation.  You wind up arguing the fairness or unfairness of comparing the person or policy to fucking Nazis instead of talking about what you were trying to address before the other N-word came into it.  The Nazis, to a Jewish person, a Gypsy, any perceived enemy of the Nazi state, those who believe in anything but Nazism, were just plain inhuman.  Sure, Eichmann played with his kids after a hard day at the office, a hard day visiting Auschwitz or Treblinka, hearing about the latest poison gas used to exterminate these vermin, but the man was also irredeemably evil, or less emotionally, a war criminal, I think most people would agree.  

Unless, I guess, you like the idea of killing Jews, and the more the merrier.  There are, I do not doubt, people like that.   Very fine people, the finest people, no doubt. Who love their kids, and tell jokes, and strive to help their neighbors, as long as they’re not Jews, Blacks, Immigrants, Muslims, terrorists, union members, intellectuals with their fucking nuance, homosexuals, insatiable parasites on the government tit, people who hate our freedom and don’t want to see our country made great again.

What lessons does the Israeli right wing government take from history, from our own Jewish history?   It is worth thinking about.  You dehumanize an enemy and then it is no problem to have snipers kill as many as necessary to make them shut the fuck up.  In fact, shoot special bullets that explode on contact, causing the most grievous possible injury.  Nothing says somebody wearing a medic’s tunic, or a press vest, is any less subject to being shot in their smug face than the people they are trying to help, the ones throwing rocks, molotov cocktails, trying to cut the wires on the border fence, the ones screaming Death To Israel, the ones demanding, most intolerably, the right to return to their former homes.  Nothing to fucking see here.  One more reason to shoot the press.  No pictures, no problem.  

Ask Eichmann how he felt about those fucking Nazi documentaries of the death camps.  He’d probably have a regret about that. After all, he was a devoted servant only following his master’s orders, trying always to do his very best in the Nazi hierarchy.  Why would his master not destroy those incriminating films? Damn. Everybody now knows, the first thing you do, you burn that shit that could make you face justice.  Shit…

I wonder if Eichmann was thinking about that as several stoic Jews led him to the gallows that long ago night in Jerusalem.  Eichmann apparently conducted himself with dignity at the end, spouting a few final idiotic cliches before he was hanged.

 

[1]   From Amos Elon’s introduction to the republished Eichmann in Jerusalem, a book that apparently met with harsh criticism in some quarters  

Screen shot 2018-06-05 at 6.13.59 PM.png(c) Penguin Books 2006

[2]  The kind of visceral moving images Holocaust Deniers claim is propaganda made by the infernally manipulative Jews themselves. (And truthfully, who among us has not faked his own atrocity films, just to viciously exploit others?)  These historical revisionists also deny any malicious motive for rewriting the historical record, you know, some of their own lawyers and accountants are fucking Jews.  At most, these dodgy history revisers insist, a couple of hundred thousand Jews may have died, maybe, and certainly not as a result of any German policy, if anything those policies were designed to protect the Jews, died not by the Nazis’ hand but of contagious diseases contracted and spread because of their filthy ways.   So much for those never-rinsed asshole ‘historians’.  Don’t even know why I mentioned the little shit stains.   

 

One more from Amos Elon’s intro, to cleanse the palette:

Screen shot 2018-06-05 at 6.44.37 PM.png

and this little gem, from the same intro:

The Israeli psychiatrist who examined Eichmann found him a “completely normal man, more normal, at any rate, than I am after examining him.”

[3]  Eichmann’s handwritten clemency request, not released to the public until almost fifty years after his execution, reads in pertinent part:

  • “[The judges] made a fundamental mistake in that they are not able to empathize with the time and situation in which I found myself during the war years.
  • There is a need to draw a line between the leaders responsible and the people like me forced to serve as mere instruments in the hands of the leaders.
  • Had I been, as the judges assume, the fanatical driving force in the persecution of the Jews, this should have been reflected in a promotion and other rewards, but I was never granted any benefit.
  • I am not able to recognize the court’s ruling as just, and I ask, Your Honor Mr. President, to exercise your right to grant pardons, and order that the death penalty not be carried out.”

source

Quick note about friendship

Friendship is, more than anything, about mutuality.  If you find yourself making constant accommodations, eating bad food doled out in incredibly stingy portions, taking care of somebody who is incapable of returning the favor most of the time, somebody who casually shits on you as you provide that attention, (these often go together, in my experience) can we really call that friendship?

That’s a loaded, rhetorical question, of course.

Grey Skank, on the case!

As much as I sometimes disparage the venerable journal of record, it is one of the most important and influential sources of news in our society.   Recently, because of some shenanigan by Sekhnet who subscribes to the Times for an elderly former neighbor who lives in an institutional hell, isolated, against her will, we both get NYT news clips sent to our phones.   The other day this one arrived.  

The story had been meticulously set out in a long New Yorker profile HERE, (and I wrote about it, more briefly, HERE)  but the NY Times had several more sickening details, gathered recently.

The NY Times headline: 

Origins of an Epidemic: Purdue Pharma Knew Its Opioids Were Widely Abused

the lede: 

A confidential Justice Department report found the company was aware early on that OxyContin was being crushed and snorted for its powerful narcotic, but continued to promote it as less addictive.

by Barry Meier

Purdue Pharma, the company that planted the seeds of the opioid epidemic through its aggressive marketing of OxyContin, has long claimed it was unaware of the powerful opioid painkiller’s growing abuse until years after it went on the market.

But a copy of a confidential Justice Department report shows that federal prosecutors investigating the company found that Purdue Pharma knew about “significant” abuse of OxyContin in the first years after the drug’s introduction in 1996 and concealed that information.

The rest of the article is HERE

Not to fear, a deal was made to keep those responsible out of legal jeopardy back in 2006 and Purdue Pharma’s paid lying fuck had this to say in response to the NYTimes recent fake news story, all evidence to the contrary (and there’s apparently a shitload from before the DOJ let the Sacklers and their company off the hook more than a decade ago):

A spokesman for Purdue Pharma, Robert Josephson, declined to comment on the allegations in the report but said the company was involved in efforts to address opioid abuse.

“Suggesting that activities that last occurred more than 16 years ago are responsible for today’s complex and multifaceted opioid crisis is deeply flawed,” he said in a statement.

Deeply flawed, yes, of course, good line, bitchface, no wonder they pay you the big bucks.  Like corporate cousin Exxon, first to research and find the connection between burning fossil fuel and catastrophic climate change, then funding decades of climate change skepticism.  Deeply flawed to blame a powerful, highly addictive multi-billion dollar profit center, relentlessly and falsely marketed as a safe alternative to the addictive forms of the same drug, for fueling the Opioid Crisis.  Even if, and I say IF (though there is absolutely no ‘if’, as the newly leaked evidence shows), Purdue and the Sacklers knew from the beginning that they were lying to sell a boatload of the highly addictive stuff in every possible way.  

I wonder if Josephson was the former FDA official, later hired by Purdue Pharma, who approved the false and misleading marketing/package insert for Oxycontin that launched the powerful opioid’s meteoric rise to the top of the lucrative opioid drug pyramid [1].  The marketing continued, we know now, long after Purdue and the Sacklers knew all about the widespread abuse of its miracle drug.

The Sackler family, owners of Purdue, always plead ignorance and hide behind a corporate veil, as their ilk always does.   They feel, no doubt, that they’ve already suffered more than enough, having paid an outrageous $653,000,000 in corporate profits back in 2006 in a deal to end the merciless federal witch hunt against them.   If there’s any doubt that these psychopaths are lying about what they knew and when, there’s this:

Then in 1998, as OxyContin’s marketing campaign was taking off, Purdue Pharma learned of a medical journal study that appeared to undercut its central message — that OxyContin, as a long-acting opioid, had less appeal to drug abusers.

In the study, which was published in The Journal of the Canadian Medical Association, researchers from the University of British Columbia in Vancouver interviewed local drug dealers and abusers to learn what legal drugs sold for on the black market. They found that MS Contin commanded the highest price of any prescription opioid with a 30-milligram tablet that cost $1 at a pharmacy bringing up to $40 on the street.

In an accompanying editorial, a Canadian physician, Dr. Brian Goldman, wrote that the findings turned thinking about the supposed safety of long-acting opioids like OxyContin on its head by showing that drug abusers “coveted” such drugs.

“This should ring alarm bells,” Dr. Goldman, who was then a paid speaker for Purdue Pharma, wrote in the editorial.

Purdue Pharma did not send the Canadian study to the F.D.A. or tell its sales representatives about it. Instead, one sales official testified later to a federal grand jury that the company gave him an older survey to show doctors that had concluded that drug abusers were not attracted to time-release opioids.

Mr. Josephson, the Purdue Pharma spokesman, said it was not required to tell the F.D.A. about the Canadian study or editorial. He added that the company did not consider the small study’s results significant because it was already known that morphine could be abused.

The real question, of course, is what kind of fucking traitor leaked these “classified” reports, pages that show the guilty parties had full knowledge of the bad shit their lucrative, fraudulent, abuse-prone baby was causing years before Dubya and Cheney’s DOJ let them quietly off the hook with the corporation paying all fines?

This piquant passage should not pass by un-noted:

The head of the Justice Department’s criminal division at the time, Alice S. Fisher, did not respond to emails seeking comment about the decision not to pursue indictments. That decision followed meetings with a Purdue Pharma defense team whose advisers included Rudolph W. Giuliani, a onetime United States attorney and former New York mayor. Mr. Giuliani, who was then regarded as a potential Republican presidential candidate, is now a legal adviser to Mr. Trump.

Oh, how far the mighty have fallen.  What a fucking country!   God bless these fucking all-powerful, unaccountable winners we have here and God bless these United States of Exceptional Avarice, Death and Shamelessness.  Have a brilliant day!

 

[1] There would have been a neat symmetry to that, but, no, the former FDA weasel for hire was a scumbag named Dr. Curtis Wright:

The F.D.A. approved OxyContin in 1995, for use in treating moderate to severe pain. Purdue had conducted no clinical studies on how addictive or prone to abuse the drug might be. But the F.D.A., in an unusual step, approved a package insert for OxyContin which announced that the drug was safer than rival painkillers, because the patented delayed-absorption mechanism “is believed to reduce the abuse liability.” David Kessler, who ran the F.D.A. at the time, told me that he was “not involved in the approval.” The F.D.A. examiner who oversaw the process, Dr. Curtis Wright, left the agency shortly afterward. Within two years, he had taken a job at Purdue.

source

The Skeleton pipes up

“I don’t mean to push you, Elie, not at all… and it would be hard to do from this remote grave, even if I wanted to — but any thoughts on draft two of my book?” said the skeleton of my father from the lush green graveyard just north of Peekskill.  “I’d hate to see all this work you’ve put in become another albatross around your neck.  That albatross necklace must be getting pretty heavy by now.”

Heavy enough.  It keeps my neck strong, anyway.    

“To the cutting room floor with this bullshit.   Just a question, Elie.  1,200 pages is a lot to go through.  The other night you had the perfect ten second gem of a memory to include, but you didn’t write it down, and now….”  

Over the years I’ve largely lost that once ingrained good habit of jotting everything down, particularly things that came to me out of the blue, things that seem perfectly obvious when you think of them, then are prone to disappearing completely.  

“Well, those things happen as we crawl toward the grave, I suppose,” said the skeleton, motioning around him at the graves, his and everyone else’s.  

I have a sort of plan, and Sekhnet endorsed it the other day.  I need to buy several reams of paper.  We got a new printer that supposedly gets amazingly economic ink mileage.  I have to put the manuscript on an external hard drive, take it to the farm, print out the whole bloody thing.   Then work with pages themselves.  I’ve never seen the fucking thing on a page, only a screen, like the one I’m tapping on now.   It’s impossible to flip pages here, only scroll.   There is a metaphor there for our modern digital world, scroll only.  

“Yes, these algorithmically aided young geniuses, with the world’s assembled information a click away, never flip through books, through indexes, through a card catalogue.  They get exactly what they are looking for when they search, every time.  Specific information, delivered refreshingly free of context.   The human brain seems to be changing in accordance with this streamlined information/opinion delivery system.   I think it’s a good idea to have actual pages to read, mark up, re-order.   Get to it, man.”

I’ve got to find an external hard drive here formatted for the Mac, copy the current pages and selected pages.   Something has been bugging me the last week or two and I need to get it written out, out of mind on to page, put those black symbols onto this nice white screen.

“Use your symbols, Elie, and don’t let my story meet the fate of Whippie the Slave Dog, and your brilliantly simple animation non-profit” said the skeleton, with the proper note of poignance.    Whippie was an inspirational character and her story would have made a beautiful children’s book, in some alternative universe.

Irony is often lost on the nervous

I had a rock vamp I used to play all the time, very groovy little four chord thing that fit together nicely.  One day, years ago, playing an old friend’s beautiful old semi-hollow body electric guitar (a delightfully resonant Gibson ES-335) later sadistically destroyed by a mentally ill musician in a fit of enraged mania, I improvised the following to those chords:

You heard
just what I said
when you had your gun
pointed at my head,
but instead,
you’re dead
I didn’t mean to kill you but…

You should have stayed
home in bed
with a comfy pillow
under your head
Instead
you’re dead
I didn’t want to kill you but…
dah dah dah dah dah dah dah

Then I took a heroic guitar solo as the mentally ill keyboard player beamed at  my maliciously macho little lyrical invention, my rock and roll posturing.  I don’t recall how much later it was that he took a file to the beautiful guitar, breaking the F-holes and prying out the humbucker pickups, gouging and mutilating the lovely red-lacquered body beyond recognition, leaving the martyred, irreparably destroyed vintage guitar floating in a dirty bathtub full of sudsy water, the greasy hair from his half-shaved head as the cherry on top.  He wound up back in the laughing academy after that little caper, though it took a village to get him there.

The thing is, once you hold a gun to someone’s head, trust is usually compromised.  I eventually had to take a dirty stake and hammer it through the heart of this highly intelligent, provocatively mirthful idiot.  I reapply the stake as needed, by posting things like this, periodically, prophylactically, to make sure he doesn’t stagger out of his fucking grave imagining that we can be friends again.  

So it is, and so it must be, with people who unthinkingly treat others solely as vehicles to take them where they demand to be taken.  People who fear they are weak will often take a friend’s perceived strength for granted, until that strength is exhausted.  You may not have noticed, friend, but I ain’t no horse.  While I can pick you up, if needed, I can also throw you down.  Neither of those things makes me a horse.  

“What is this about holding a gun to somebody’s head?”  a concerned voice asks, seeking clarification about this disturbing metaphor.  Hoping it’s a metaphor.

It’s a metaphor, it’s a metaphor.  Picture this: you create an emotional emergency, emergency, emergency!  It must be dealt with immediately, now, now, now!  Ah, never mind.  It wearieth me too much.   For the anxiety riddled, it is rare for them to instantly get the joke, unless it comes at the rare moment when their native anxiety recedes enough to let humor in.   Irony is generally wasted on this type. Nuff said.