Friday, 20 January 2017

The Door

Turns out he was playing eleven dimensional chess all along... against his most ardent fans' stated interests, many of whom remain blissfully unaware, incapable of recognizing or fully acknowledging it, or just don't care. Of the latter, why should they care now?

Well... it comes down to what really matters above all else, today of all days instructive, which is appearances. They'll swoon at the suave centurion but demur when it comes to the signs & symbols that suit the sociopathic job description.

Now the worm has turned. Suddenly the normalization of the long normal is not allowed because of a distinction: a dearth of decorum has poked its hideous head through their sheen of civility. This grants a license to mind certain details of doom.

Doom not because of the longstanding maintenance of nuclear warheads readied mano a mano from all ends of the Earth, but because somebody's like, "Why can't we use them?" Even our tacit acceptance of the survival of these most deadly devices threaten the world only in theory. Certainly, we would never use them again.

Doom not because we insist on dedicating the future of the public's health to personal wealth accumulators, but because our outgoing executive's signature piece of work is facing dismantling. Were they tired of hearing this legacy, more an act than affordable or care, was taken from the opposition party's original, they unfolded in their adoring ruminations a more apt mnemonic that, if you were to fill in the gap in their narrative would be akin to claiming that the Rama did for health care what Dubya could not for Social Security. No, not that he funnelled funds from public hospitals into the private sector, but that he simply succeeded where his predecessor had failed. The enemy of the good was trumped by the fact that he was a winner.

If that was not enough to silence critics, printiN't'fYT media had an econ hero spinning figures from facts hardly in evidence. Anything else was just anecdotal, man. Though they wouldn't hesitate to cite stories that backed their imagination. The bottom line has been — as a former Chief of Staff might shout upon marching into the restroom at Cook County Hospital and one-two punching a public school teacher in each of his kidneys: "We're winners, you fucking retard!"

That is the craw-sticking corn in the turd that's been obliviously shovelled in alternating eight-year terms. Today's enshrining, into which pantheon hasn't even made it out of its 40s, is a nagging indication that you can lose even if you agree to surrender up front for the sake of the appearance of winning.

Appearances do matter. They mattered when, if nothing else, African-American children could at least look to an Oval Office with the mask of a face resembling their own. If nothing else, the twenty-first century could make up for the uncomfortable fact that I don't actually hang out with my many black friends with a makeover of likes & 'bros!' at my growing black friend count. Thanks Obama's Facebook page.


Of Fables' Foibles
The great utility of The Boy Who Cried Wolf is as gatekeeper serving at the pleasure of wolves. Think: Just in case it's real this time, let's not make that mistake.

Those who grieve the departure of their president would appear to be more credulous than ever of the intelligence organ that served at his pleasure. This daddy agency is a master at creating common enemies to justify harvesting public levies for black budgeting said foes' destruction. The list of enemies is, apparently inversely, as long as it is instructive.

Not just the post-ally Soviet menace that got it rolling, but everybody who might've aligned with communism ideologically, from democratically elected leaders abroad to singers, screenwriters, and civil rights leaders at home — overthrown, trailed, ousted, and assassinated. Subsequent enemies consistently follow the path from the enemy of my enemy to public enemy number one, of which Islamic terrorism is the most obvious example.

Now Russia is the enemy of the enemy of the enemy, which seems like something the US would like to see go down in Syria. Euro allies are playing along, largely by default, with tanks having rolled through the streets of Brandenburg and Poland on their way to the Russian border.

As far as the lack of meaningful distinctions go, it's not new that liberals have considered Republicans an adversary and vice-versa. So viewed from a distance it is not surprising that they'd go all-in on the CIA's version of Putin's hold on Trump. But their seeming willingness to go along with even a version of events that would have their nation's enemy — formerly described as the evil empire, a depiction mocked as primitive & bellicose — in the heart of Washington D.C. is, uh... interesting. Let's not pretend we don't know what happens when the CIA has an enemy in the White House.

This link, my reminder that prescience is deceiving:

Flashback Freitag: In Augur al Don

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Whatsoever you do: Manning Morality

If there is to be validity to the idea of righteousness, then open the doors and set them free!
—me, this morning

I know of no code of conduct or rule of engagement that should overshadow the gift of conscience, that which informs the only reliable usage of the word integrity: personal integrity. Other applications are valid — as in when connoting the soundness of physical processes, but no other covenants with morality. Neither the Ten Commandments nor the Book of the Law, nor the US Constitution and certainly not its Uniform Code of Military Justice.

Indeed, as the UCMJ eventually reveals, these rules have to do with the integrity of a mission however vaguely defined at any given time and under any given commander in spite of subliminal service to the vaguest notions of honoring the higher moral purposes of God, country, and family. With that in mind, on the other hand, those who maintain that rules are rules or that "you knew the job when you signed up for it" don't deign to pay to anything other than what they'd like to believe is manning up.


It matters to me zilch that the person with the legal name of Bradley Manning enlisted in the Army for the ostensible purpose of taking advantage of certain benefits bestowed upon its enlistees. For that reason, I don't need to consider potential mitigating factors in that decision, such as family pressure or the possible need for educational assistance. On the contrary, I can be as judgmental of that enlistee as I remain of myself for having done the same twenty-two years earlier, under the auspices of Commander in Chief Ronald Wilson Reagan, no less.

The deciding moment for me is when Private Manning saw murder for what it was and revealed it to the world. Fuck the chain of command. Fuck the safety of spies and diplomats in service to them. We all deserve to have any and all human activity carried out in our name brought into the harshest light of day, always and forever.

Again, I don't need to consider the mitigating factor that Private Manning's leak caused no one's death, for if it had, the UCMJ lawyers would have presented evidence of it. Fuck Judith Miller anyway, who actually "tweeted, "How many people died because of manning' leak?"  By my count, it'd be a million to zero, Miller over Manning. Though in fairness the former figure is an estimate.

So now the outgoing US President has used the power already accorded to him by one of his country's double-dealing documents to commute the sentence of Chelsea Manning. For anyone reading these words who anticipates my not giving him props for doing so, I will not disappoint: It's what he should have done. That it would appear to abide in moral conscience is a paltry concession.

Consider the twice daily reliable printN'tofYT media corps, who called the commutation "a remarkable final step for a president whose administration carried out an unprecedented criminal crackdown on leaks of government secrets."

They also noted what his critics have harped upon regarding his treatment of whistle blowers, which is that his administration has prosecuted "more than were charged under all previous presidencies combined." In qualifying the method of tabulation, they cite nine or ten prosecutions. This too is a kind estimation of his government's actions when "depending on how they are counted" takes under advisement the effect the prosecutions of "the most transparent presidency ever" had on its subject-objects.

Consider that his administration expanded American military activity such that, had it not already been the default policy of every presidency prior to his (thereby the default consciousness of the "American people") one might have thought it worthwhile to spread a petition through social media to curtail his authority over the nation's nuclear war-faring capacity.

As cagey militant chutzpah and kill-count would have it, he measures up well with Theodore Roosevelt, Lyndon Johnson, and Ronald Reagan. As powers extended to the executive handed over to his successor go, just like his predecessor, who in this regard he had in no equivocating terms promised to break with, he is nevertheless unprecedented.

I admit that I did not expect this. Despite the reported short-listing of Manning for clemency, I imagined that the effect the leaks had had on his administration's renegotiation of the status of forces agreement in Iraq — which, contrary to what his presidential legacy'd have you believe, had been working to end the deadline for US troop presence there and extend military activity indefinitely — would mean that Manning'd remain under wraps.

Who knows, maybe instead of enabling this example of what happens when you cross military planning procedures, the President, realizing that but for Manning, he wouldn't get credit for "ending the war in Iraq", decided to give some form of credit where it was due.

Unlike those liberals who would never hold his feet to the fire in spite of his ominous admonition that he'd be a duplicitous asshole otherwise, it is the least he could have done. That he's proven better than his groupies who would've cheered just as heartily for him either way is simply a case for some twisted moral irony.

There will be plenty enough praise for President Bo Rama for this decision. And though I thank my indefinable integrity for having the capacity to hope for it, I choose to see this clemency as honoring a hero who placed herself at far greater risk than the president in stroking his pen. The one who made the real moral choice. I reserve the glory & honor for Chelsea Elizabeth Manning.

Friday, 13 January 2017


a descendant, a darling, a dad, a dude

a decedent adrift a decade
a delivery, a derivation, a dawn
a date
always decimals above dozens
a don't for a doesn't
a don't for a did
accepting dollars already donuts
a description as dwelt: he goes on and on although despite he always don't
in the year of our deceased forerunner and fellow traveler

Sunday, 8 January 2017

Der Parkbank Pinkler
Kapitel XIV: die Geschichte im Voraus gefälscht

„Ab ins Fegefeuer!“
—Blutkotzende Goten - Gefickt & Fertig LIVE!


Von den Nischensitzplätzen links und rechts glich es einem Diner. Am Fenster hinten in der Ecke wuchs die breiteste vom Tisch verborgenen Bank mit ihrem Winkel zusammen. Auf der anderen Seite der Raumbreite verlief die Theke, deren Vorderende eine Diskussion über eine gegenwärtige Geschäftslage knapp verbarg. Der Chef versuchte zu veranlassen, dass gerade der Neuling ihren Stammpenner hinauswerft. Dieser würde das bestimmt nicht wollen, hatte sich schon bequem in besagter Ecke gemacht. „Der Azubi (faktisch gerade dabei, für wenig Zeit & noch weniger Geld ein Praktikum im Gastgewerbe abzuleisten) versuchte die entscheidende Kompromissbereitschaft aus der Lehre zu erproben. Eventuell dürfte er woanders sitzen?

Monday, 26 December 2016

Mourning's bro ken.

If nothing else, I'll be glad when 2016 is over to be finally free of "fuck 2016" commentary. I get the sense that the most recent barrage that includes the lamentation "Can 2016 just end already?" is more than just the ritualized handling of the sadness at the passing of prominent people of personal significance that it seems to be. As a matter of fact, this table was being set already in January upon the death of David Bowie, when it was noted that therewith the still nascent sixteen qualified as inauspicious. Given the easy to find when you're looking for it "everything happens in threes", this could predestine a continuance of the meme that said the year was doomed from the beginning.