Reality imitates psychosis

Back in 11 February, in “The Kill Everyone Project,” I wrote about a Finnish group called “The Sect of Homokaasu,” or just plain “Homokaasu,” a Finnish word which means “gay gas.” The source of the name “involves a long, breathtakingly paranoid rant by some guy who claims the Roman Catholic church was pumping poison gas into his room to make him a homosexual.”

Then a few weeks ago I ran across a post on “Only in America” (“Democracy at the end of a barrel, gayness at the end of a bomb,”
4 June), based on a BBC News article of 15 January 05, that says the geniuses of military strategy and guardians of American morality whose work our tax dollars pay for really were thinking, in 1994, of “building a ‘gay bomb’, which would make enemy soldiers ‘sexually irresistible’ to each other. . . . The plan for a so-called ‘love bomb’ envisaged an aphrodisiac chemical that would provoke widespread homosexual behavior among troops, causing what the military called a ‘distasteful but completely non-lethal’ blow to morale.” Of course it never occurred to the rocket scientists behind this idea that in certain historic cultures (like Greece during the Trojan War; see Achilles and Patroclus), gay attachments among the troops were an important factor in strengthening morale, although it would have the desired effect among Muslims who, like fundamentalist christo-fascists, are rabidly homophobic. (However, the terrorists do not “fight” in troop formation, so it really wouldn’t work after all.) Fortunately (or unfortunately?), the plans “were never pursued.” The same BBC story also says that “researchers pondered a ‘Who? Me?’ bomb, which would simulate flatulence in enemy ranks.” I like that idea even better. Turn our enemies into farting gay-boys. (“Well, I’d really love to kiss you, if you’d only stop that horrible farting!” “Who, me? It’s you that’s polluting the air!”) Is this a great country or what? How often are the Roman Catholic Church (in Finland) and the U.S. Department of Defense on the same page?

Have a nice day

Let’s face it, that half-assed piece of shit about “Martyrdom and Hate” which I was talking about working on all the way back in March has suffered a well-deserved abortion. Yup, vacuumed all the little bloody pieces out of the, no wait, that’s something else, I mean it’s been on the back burner for so long that it’s simply burned or boiled away. And good riddance; it was me at my most insufferably pompous and bombastic. Besides, I’m not only running out of anything I consider worth saying, I’m running out of any motivation for saying it if there were any such thing. In fact, I’ve become rather more depressed than usual at the rapidly mounting piles of shit which seem to be smothering the world. Joe Bageant, whom I mentioned with such praise back in 24 March (“Life without blogging”), is such a mercilessly acute critic of the present descent of Babylon into chaos and madness that reading him can quickly become something of a bummer. Basically, he seems to destroy any reason for anyone to hope that anything can get any better. His scorn and contempt for the Dummy-crats is, if anything, more savage than that for the Republicans, because the former have treacherously betrayed all the principles for which they are supposed to stand, whereas the latter have steadfastly upheld all those for which they stand. And his loathing for the Dummy-crats extends to all liberals generally, whom the party is supposed to represent. Even before the entire Congress recently begged the Mad Emperor for the privilege of standing in line to suck his cock by writing him a blank fucking check for his evil war, Bageant was warning that any appearance of the “liberals” attaining victory because of pissed-off conservatives leaving the ranks was an illusion because their defection was only a temporary aberration and they would come flocking back to the True Faith when the chips were down. Bageant grew up in the belly of the Beast and speaks from first-hand experience when he says that these people—his people—basically welcome any kind of catastrophic shit which they think will hasten the Second Coming of their sick, vicious, heretical version of kick-ass, meaner-’n-shit Jesus à la that Left Behind vomit—and that includes continuing and even worsening conflict in the Middle East, where the occurrence of Armageddon is an important part of their vision of the future.

Regarding the recent Congressional gang-bang of the Mad Emperor, the satirical White House has a cheerful and typically sarcastic take in “Iraq Funding Approved: President lauds Democrats’ courage to stay true to their spineless jellyfish convictions”: “[A]fter all their chest-pounding and tough talk about pulling the plug on my pet abortion of a war, [they] done went and tucked their packages between their legs. … Hot diggety, I love the smell of political cowardice in the morning.” So much for the so-called Democratic “victory” in November; I was by no means the only one who suspected all along that it was a hollow, fraudulent scam.

Yes, a faithful reading of Bageant has made me lose all hope of anything getting any better, at least in my lifetime, which, at the age of 70, I don’t expect to be much longer—or hope it isn’t. I really don’t want to be here when the shit seriously hits the fan and civilization collapses in anarchy. And when you factor in the accelerating pace of global deterioration from warming, now seen to be happening at a much faster pace than previously thought, it’s not gonna be just here in the Divided States that it’ll happen. We will be in the unenviable position of having been primarily responsible for the collapse of the entire fucking planet.

One of my crazier friends (a lot of them are more or less off), who died about two years ago, had a small arsenal in his home in suburban Lyons CO (have I told this already? do I repeat myself?)—at least twenty weapons with ammo, most of which I can’t even remember the names of, several of them illegal to own—which he said he was prepared to use when the above scenario occurred and marauding hordes of savages came pouring over the top of the canyon ridge across from his house, which he expected to happen in his own lifetime. He also expected to live more or less indefinitely by having all his failing body systems replaced by artificial ones, making him a kind of bionic man. Fortunately, neither of his expectations came to pass. But if I live longer than I want to, or if the shit-storm occurs as quickly as some of the gloomier prophets predict, I might yet see it. And so might you—almost certainly.

So, have a nice day.