What a wonderful world...

The Russians are coming the Russians are coming the Russians are… oh shizzle, they’re here!  Leave it to an ex-KGB agent to pine for the good ol’ days of the Cold War by rekindling old hatreds and fears.  It seems that we in the West need a reminder of how the world sucked back then and Putin is happy to oblige.  Perestroika this, bitches!  Bin-Laden’s feeding the fishes and his cronies have gone to ground.  Let’s leave the left-handed-ass-wipers to their own goat spoiling devices, we’ve got neo-Bolsheviks to contend with. 

What if we just pull a Saigon Shuffle and Huey the hell out of the Boneyard of the Misbegotten?  Who would miss us, besides the women and children and private contractors?  There’s a paranoid bi-polar poobah in charge of the place and who has, on more than one occasion, not been able to keep appointments with ambassadors and other dignitaries due to an inability to keep his ducks together long enough to harangue his guests over not understanding his needs.

Sorry if I seem insensitive to the plight of paranoid bi-polar poobahs but well, I’m sick of the ancillary effects of job creators in the guise of nation builders dry-stroking the daylights out of us taxpayers.  Like marionettes, our elected officials dance cheek by jowl with the monied interests of the military whilst sending our young men and women to far off lands where we have little business other than having a place to wring the bugs out of our latest war toys.   

To that end, the Greenies some time ago started making little squeaky noises about environmental degradation and unnatural acts in the deserts of the Western U.S., once the home of bombing ranges, nuclear blast testing, Native Americans and that sort of thing.  I mean, dang, it’s just a damn desert!  Better we work out the spread pattern of bomblets dropped via sub launched cruise missiles over the New Jersey Pine Barrens?  I gather not.  But still… we are talking about Jersey.

Honestly, I'm not sure about blogging.  The world is already a precarious place in which to ply one's proclivities.  Knowing this, the internet is like a Pandora's Box blown open for anyone able to stab a button or finger swipe a smart phone.  And I like it!  Everyone has an opinion like they have a nose.  Some are big and beautiful while others, not so much.  These are the days of EVERYONE putting their two cents in whether it makes any sense or not.

If you think about the 140 character limit imposed on Twitter, after following it for ten minutes, you'll probably rejoice in that limitation!  I know I do.  Personally, I don't give two shits about what goes on in the Twitter-verse. My time is too precious.  But then, if it could make me money, I'd hire someone to do it for me.  But the newsies grouse that it hasn't turned a profit yet.  Even though the guys who started it are pretty well-off now.  How is that?  It's all about perception.  Face it, we're all drawn to shiny sparkly things.  We can't help it.  It's part and parcel to how we're coded.  Flight or fight stuff.  We in the West have hailed it as a liberator of thought, and as it turns out, thoughtlessness too.  Humanity in all it's "wired" forms manifests there.  Big beautiful noses, pierced and otherwise.

So my question is this, how can an otherwise educated populace deal substantively with it's own shortcomings?  Twitter?  Facebook?  Yelp?

Why not?

Where the stupid meet resistance...

You may ask why, Hissing Turban?  Because it goes to the point of just how messed up we are as a species.  That some madrasa fanboy can infiltrate a funeral in order to blow himself to kibble along with five or fifty of the deceased's closest friends and family and do it for the twisted notion of an almighty deity that rains virgins on males martyred thus.  That and wrapping the less than brightest in shrapnel vests and sending them down to the market for some baba ganoush. "Here, Habibi, take this cell phone with you and call me when you get there. Allahu Akbar."

Give me a break. If the Great and Powerful Oz were to send a bevy of munchkin virgins to me, I'm sure it would be because he wants me to indoctrinate them in the ways of pleasure.  Either that or just to piss me off.  Virgins?  I'll take a talented tart any day over an amateur.  But then again, we're talking about some of the most thoroughly mind-fucked souls known to man.  The kind with little learning other than that of war and warlords.  The kind steeped in the blood of friends and antecedents. The kind of hatred that can only be sustained through clinging beyond any fathomable reason to a religion and its perversion.

But that ain't all.  To pick on the whole of Islam for the misdeeds of a few thousand is misapplied derision.  There's plenty of corners for the cockroaches of mankind to hide in.  There's skinheads and members of GLAAD, PETA, NOW, the NRA, the Supreme Court, effing Super PACs, propagandists masquerading as documentarians, the Republican AND Democratic parties, Chicago politicians, Washington lobbyists, Tea Party chowderheads and the bored and disaffected of the Occupy Wall Street movement.  Top it off with Palin, Bachmann and Oprah, the producers of gay amputee porn, anyone who co-ops their faith for monetary gain and elves.  Actually the elves are okay with me.  Especially that Arwen chick, mm-hmm.

Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream.  One that included everyone.  So let's be clear here.  What we need to talk about is what's going on in the world-at-large and hear what each of us thinks about it too.  If we can find some humor in it, so much the better.  That's what blogs are for.  Start some shit and see where it floats.  And if you find some words here to cling to so much the better.  Come back often.  Leave a sign of life.

Cheers,
J.C. [the younger]