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Saturday, 28 September 2013

< br >aking < b >ad
Now with fake spoilage!


INT.WRITERS' ROOM.DAY

GILLIGAN sleeps with his head on a laptop at the end of a large table. He is jolted awake by a robovac bouncing off the leg of his chair and heading in another direction.

PANNING AROUND reveals the chronological-end of a decadent binge: staff sleeping on the floor; pizza boxes, popcorn, cigarette butts, and bottles & half-empty glasses lying around.

CLOSE UP of a mirror next to the laptop shows the reflection of an Emmy (TM) framed by a credit card and blue-streaked residue.

On the laptop screen is a page with the title FELINA at the top, but otherwise blank.

GILLIGAN:
What the hell happened?





Raking Rad - 2013

Saturday, 31 August 2013

Cameron to Parliament: "Rally, I do."
[bonus update: Kerry On]

Though action depicted below was clearly, in my view, the result of the basis of the commentary that follows the depiction, it, of course, means whatever you want it to, which is the point. But if you want the actual text of the speech, HOVER and/or click for a slightly larger version in a new window/tab:



[BACK TO YESTERDAY'S DRIVEL]

The British PM may as well have admitted to being in on a false flag.

In fact - even if he didn't flutter his lashes metaphorically with that come-hither look heads of state are wont to work when trying to convince others of the worthiness of the actions behind their titillating entreaties, or bat them in succession in the tell-tale fashion reserved for those who know that what they are saying might come back to bite them in their reputations if not their future public speaking earnings - when he sputtered the sentence,
"In the end there is no 100 percent certainty about who is responsible, but I think we can be as certain as possible that when we have a regime that has used chemical weapons on 14 occasions, that is most likely responsible for this large scale attack, that if nothing is done it will conclude that it can use these weapons again and again and on a larger scale and with impunity."
he blinked. You know, like, how the Irish would say, literally.

Anyone learned in the skill of taking the stand can tell you that "when we have" conceals the nearly indistinguishable but less persuasive "if we had".

I will grant you that making an equally spurious claim about the previous fourteen occasions as if they are a given is a brilliant use of dubious distraction as supporting evidence.

And he almost pulled it off. Of course, it doesn't matter.

It is clear from the reactions of politicians opposed to this military action that coming right out and saying, "We cannot be sure that the Americans staged this latest attack, but given the recent revelations regarding their support of the same on an untold number of occasions, that it is most likely working in cooperation with whoever did stage this latest attack, and if we go along with them on this adventure, they will continue to use these tactics again and again and on a larger scale and with impunity," is akin to smearing your Handcock all over demands for "the truth".

But for the guy who is supposed to be leading the charge on behalf of the limey lapdogs, what his "cannot be 100 percent sure, in the end" actually says is that he knows, or at least thinks he knows, that what he is saying is bullshit.

When you're lying, it doesn't matter if it's a slam-dunk or not. One reason they hired you for the job is to appear to make open shots. Nobody is going to admit that a shorts-less PM just clanged it off the back of the rim until the janitor is sweeping popcorn from between the seats. Cameron looked Michael Jordanesque, switching hands mid-air to wildly spin the ball off the backboard and into the hoop - only to miss an easy layup and crying, "Bloody hell!" I guess he put too much English on it.

Bubba and Blair, now they could lie with distinction. Dubya, despite his rep, was effective at avoiding the truth. Cameron and the Rama would get cleaned out at the poker table. Could it be that the Rama's contorted stammering on the bully pulpit - as compared to his forceful proclaiming on the campaign trail - is his own intelligence blasting away at the arguments in his head just as they are exiting his mouth?

"I'll see your, uh, 'let me be clear' and raise you an, uh, 'uh'."

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Angela Merkel for her part simply did her best Lebowski with a "this will not stand." But it's clear where the Germans stand any time you see Sahra Wagenknecht arguing one against four (four-and-a-half if you count the hostess) on a panel tasked with giving the public a serious discussion on the matter.

Again, she couldn't just come out and say what everybody wonders - namely, that American spies coordinated the torturous murder of all those civilians in Syria - without completely destroying her future in politics, especially with an approaching election, even if it is the least important ever.

The best anyone can do is allow themselves to be forced into the "the evidence is not clear" and "even if it is, your argument for intervention is stupid" corner - an unenviable position if there ever was one - while recreant reporters of embeddedly scooped disinfo like Julian Reichelt use "I've been to Syria" to mean "I know what is good for Syrians more than you" and the production team at the public station on which this propaganda is broadcast uses an iPad with images of writhing poisoned children to poll the public.

Having seen in the past an installment of this programme on which they did a bait & switch with just such a people-on-the-street survey, I was hoping (the whole bile-in-the-gullet inducing time) that it would be revealed at the end that they'd been showing victims of NATO drone attacks or one of the massacres carried out by the US, like the one in Fallujah. Not a chance.

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And not a chance that any serious reporter would call for the punishment of the highest commander of the perpetration of that inhumanity. Then, a full-court press amounting to "there's no evidence that they did it" and "even if they did, white phosphorous is only an incendiary weapon, not a chemical one" was a perfectly reasonable position to take.

And what about the stockpiles of chemical weapons that governments have on hand - at least the ones who sign treaties and trade pacts - and the fact that a larger GDP creepily correlates with the amount of continued production of the same, all while they promise to "completely destroy" them by some date that corresponds to a future presiding tenure? Either they're being used, they're wanting to be used, or they're being sold with the precise cost-benefit analysis of the same in mind, an analysis meant for "the adults" who would never suggest that the purpose of manufacture was to use them in any way.

In short, all the press need do - whether it's our press or their press - is forward the host state's gaming of the evidence. With that, pundits and editorialists have all they need to coalesce with the appropriate conclusions. Even if the media didn't conflate the Doctors Without Borders' reports of victims of chemical weapons attacks with sworn statements that they'd seen the Syrian Army do it, it doesn't matter. Because even if they didn't do it, they probably did.

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

The Rotting Fester of Decay

Between Schillingstr. and Schicklerstr. on the east side of Alexanderstraße in the narrow wood that lines the sidewalk that runs along the bike-path that runs along the street lies a trio of garbage bags containing loosely the barely degenerating leavings of leaves & needles of grass and twigs & bark, or other mulch-like material & who knows what else save the soul who left them there, byhaps discarded upon the completion of a job rendered thus incomplete, or deposited upon completion of another kind of job altogether, one more haphazardly settled than it was finished, the remnants therein only slightly more hidden than thrown out.

Now, my memory scarcely serves me to perfection, perhaps especially when it comes to questions of longevity itself, so even as I have left that spot with each pass feeling a more distinctly divined retrospective omen - my kinship the development of a chosen shortcut involving a half-block roll this side of the wrong side of the street (weaving from sidewalk to bike-path as required) because city planners saw fit to compose a shin-deep, curb-encastled strip of lawn to serve as a barrier between the lanes of opposing traffic on Alexanderstraße, a material finale to the codification prohibiting left turns from Schilling - I nevertheless cannot estimate the expanse of time to match my sense of its vastness or, rather, impart adequately the earthly peculiarity of the remaining of these remains.

In the much better part of the decade directly behind me, I must have cycled through that gap a slight-fewer than half-of-a-thousand times. An indeterminable number those hops have I taken note of the disregarded debris in the wood, nor can I conclude the first time I noticed them at all. But I am most definitely certain that those same sacks have lain in that very spot through at least a dozen seasonal changes.


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There's this urban proverb regarding the ending of a relationship, which likens a lover to a band-aid. It goes, there are two ways to put an end to the unwanted affair: you can nervously tug, beginning with a corner, feeling the slow strain of stretched skin and minor agony of each snagged hair, prolonging the discomfort; or you can rip it off all at once and be done with it.

The point being that the latter alternative might result in soreness, but with the breakup process greatly reduced, it's ultimately less painful. Or maybe the point is that, to reduce the pain of separation, you should take great time & care to separate amicably. Or maybe the point is simply that it's gonna hurt either way, but different strokes and all that.

Yeah, maybe it's less proverb and more conceptual metaphor, descriptive rather than prescriptive. Either way, I'm sure it says something about people who choose one or the other method.

I first heard this nasty analogy when I was asked by an assembly of associates - all women coincidentally - which method I preferred. One and another might have expressed opposing preferences at that point already, I'm not sure, but my answer was neither of the two options.

I said that I did nothing at all - just went on about my business with band-aid in tact, showering with it, for example, casually leaving it hanging, even when only the smallest part of one end remained affixed, clinging to the skin just one side of the wound of a relationship, until it finally just fell off.

My reply got a nice laugh all around - as truth in comedy, not comic relief. And I'm all too aware what it says about me.


Hover for another view; click to reveal the path

das Verwesen der verwesenden Verwesung - Alexanderstraße, Berlin 2013



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Barely related & postly e-dated link (29.08):
If they remain another five days, they'll've outlasted one of 
Barbie's dreams that'd camped out just across the street.



Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Post Emergent Mind Syndrome

The sun's powers of illumination spark a reflection that science and theology might have occasion to reconcile: What's perceived is wondrous magnificence.

But there's always so much more.

A recurring part of the narrative of faith is a merciful anthropomorphic creator who damns for eternity anyone without a blind belief in his rule over things seen and unseen.

Can the allusion behind this source's seeming inconsistency be that refusing the undiscerning acceptance of what steadfastly remains unknown and forever toiling to afix meaning to the most vexing mysteries can have a coevally torturous effect upon scientist and theologian alike?


Twixt Sol & Lunacy - Berlin 2013