Thursday, 27 December 2012


The title's an imperative. As in, Die, already. I almost linked the news of his "guarded condition", but didn't wanna draw the deliberation of the spooks, if you know what I'm sayin' (maybe I should've used 41 ?-)

They say you shouldn't talk shit about the departed, so I'm doing it here preemptively. Get it?

Maybe he'll go today, maybe tomorrow, but definitely for the rest of his life, whenever he does croak (and I do believe that there is no more fitting term to signify his passing than that one, even if he doesn't do the Glottal Stop upon expiration).

I'd've let this pass unnoticed if it hadn't been for 42's kin shooting a secular prayer out the ol' e-Twat. Or, rather, "coverage" of the same.

I can just see 42 eulogizing him already, attesting to his greatness, thoughtfully squinting with his subtle bobbly-head (hey, not unlike 40!). He sure talks smart for a hillbilly, don' 'e?

Then there'll be 44 eloquatiatin' about how he so-honored his nation. And he's got his own head action going on: Look up to the left, look up to the right, look up to the left, look up to the right... Jesus, if that doesn't indicate having been hatched for advanced mind control...

The Red, White, and Blue like to talk about the dudes who founded their company, and they'll be hanging their heads half-mast for this one dude whose founding lineage did as much to shape the current Foreign Sales & Acquisitions strategy as anybody with the word "doctrine" used after their name in the hallowed institutions of higher homicide.

And who would the sanctified political opposition be to bemouth even the devil's spawn itself? I mean, it's not sperm, or their own bloodline, or their own blood that makes them family in Lil' Sicly. It somebody else's.

I can't say Dukakis' hands were too pure to win the chair. And I'm pretty sure the Willie Horton spectacle was little more than something for the savvy voter to be able to rant about during election seasons to come, like the picture of Mike in a helmet. Though I doubt sitting by in a tank while the Ascender-in-Chief was cast as a wimp won him confidence-points with the board of directors. They knew who their guy was anyway, though, and were just waiting for someone better clothed for the job.

After that it's all crooked smiles and golf cart rides.