Monday, September 26, 2005

All the King's Whores and all the King's (con) Men.

Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again; It’s ripping across the landscape like a great angry sea. It’s leaking and pouring and rushing through hundreds of holes in a massive dike of ignorance that has been constructed out of block after block of pressed stinking shit around the low valley of confused sheep grazing on lies in the hope of more to follow. It’s the truth finding its way like water through every weak spot. The wall of shit was good enough for a long time. But as the wall of shit came up against more and more truth it got built higher and higher. High on the wall of shit sat the shitmeister; Mr. Turtle on a Fencepost, two-dimensional poster boy for McLuddite’s Narcolepsy Elixir; guaranteed to reinforce the denial immune system and build strong golems 12 different ways. The waters of truth built up against the shit levees and washed Humpty Dumpty off the ledge smashing him down; cut to Bush chugging a shot as word of Katrina reaches him. ‘It’s either me or Jim Beam.” Stepford Wife Laura cries. My advice George, “Take the Jim Beam.”

As carnal and stupid a man as Bushligula may be he still knows a great deal more about some things than any of us. He knows about many of the individual shit bricks in the dike of darkness that he signed off on. He can smell the methane stink as the disinfecting sunlight hits it. He knows about the progress of all those grand jury investigations. He knows about the 9/11 realities and the mountains of shit brick lies built up on top of it. There is probably a lot he doesn’t know because he isn’t being told but he knows enough to get himself a stiff drink. It’s time for that warm glow in the belly. It’s time for evil to destroy itself.

We haven’t seen Humpty McDumpty hit. We don’t know that he went down. We won’t know for awhile but he did. Maybe it’s a flash forward or some form of remote viewing into the future. Maybe it has happened in the ideal world of numbers and forces and is only precipitating downward into the material plane soon. It has happened on some level though and the rest is just follow through.

Housing bubbles are bursting on the frothing chemical water. Dollars are morphing in Euros. Jobs are blowing out the back end of the system like projectile diarrhea. Faith is gone and faith, as the stock market can tell you, is everything. Money is moving, moving like a ship on the horizon.

In the exploding hog lagoons of Halliburton the pigs are restless. No one said too much about the polluted Euphrates water being served to the troops, or the spoiled food. Hell, they even went in and sliced off a monster slab of Katrina pie. But, that’s what pigs do. Back in the back, tireless, march those elements of the justice department that can’t be hindered. Brick by brick, the shit bricks are being analyzed for composition and content. The pigs know. But what can the pigs do? The pigs keep shitting bricks and the bricks keep getting piled on to the leaking levees and the truth makes weather that whirls the atmospheric shit; formulated by the radio waves of low lying media moving into a high pressure front of hot air, television signals warm up over the bottomless pit, the smoke from chemical factories are heated up in the ovens of global warming and one shitstorm after another comes at the levees courtesy of the truth that fires and spins the lies spinning… and it’s all natural and biodegradable in the end; even if no one is left.

Under the heavy rap beat, the musical lubrication of the movement of events, under the walls of the shit levee you can hear Cardinal Woolsey holding forth about young boys swimming on pigs bladders and Lucifer falling.

It is not so much that the always unexpected fall will come to the architects of the shit levees. This is manifest destiny. This is the eternal cycle of the unfailing destiny of shit bricks and shit brick manufacturers. For them it is enough to do evil simply for the joy of doing it. Damnation is a part of their portfolio; always has been. It’s no surprise there. The surprise is in the associated fall of all the dung beetles that live in the walls of the shit bricks; the fall of the stupid and the venal, the fall of the talking heads and the florid cheeked alcoholics that have swelled beyond any capacity for balance as they packed their pockets and their stomachs and their heads with all the variants of shit that glittered like pyrite through the special lens filters they used.

Shit is a major player in the game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ when it is played by the boys in the back and the boys waiting in all the front rooms that lead by invitation and arcane ritual through smaller and smaller corridors to the boys in the back. Near the end of the line only the snakes make it through. The pigs and the hyenas and the jackals are all smeared into and sucked into the walls of shit that line the corridors to the last room in the back. As much as the waters of truth can leak through the walls and the levees of shit, the fire of truth can burn the shit; shit is very flammable. The harder the shit is pressed together the more heat the shit generates all by itself. Shit eventually burns without the need of truth. Evil eventually dies without the necessity of good. Eventually it just gets too tiresome and confining. Paper wraps shit. Scissors get glued by shit. Paper covers shit. Shit happens.

All across the world, shit builders in many lands have seen their shit rise too high. There is so much shit that the value of the shit has dropped to where it isn’t even worth shit. The energy required to move shit and shape shit is greater than the capacity to do it. Lethargy and torpor set in, entropy sets in. Humpty Dumpty raises his glass and sways on the precipice of shit.

The Shakespearean drama of the Odyssey of Shit is one of life’s grand epic tales. It is a tale told over and over in coprophagial voices between bites. It is one of the eternal tales of the human experiment. It operates all around us at all times. Sometimes it is in genesis and sometimes it is in midstream. Sometimes it is crowing and rampant in full blown glory like dump-fires and burning tires. This is such a time as that. For the drama to have the full stinking impact required it is necessary for all of the participants to press far beyond what might have ever been countenanced in earlier, more sane moments. It is necessary for them in riotous drunkenness to dance on the edge of the shit levees as triumphant as Gollum with The Ring. It is necessary for us, for us who must needs view the dance as warning and witness that, there but for fortune go you and I.

Long, long ago each soul made for itself a character and a face for this play upon the stage. Long ago we dreamed about our costumes and our lines. Long ago we made our bargain about what we would do, what we would have, what we would be. We did this knowing of the temporary nature of it. We decided if a lifetime of wallow was worth the price of the concluding scene.

Perhaps those who have wallowed made their choice to save the rest of us by example. Perhaps they are weird, sacrificial avatars who went down so that we might rise. We do owe them a debt of gratitude, even as we calculate the pain and the suffering of their words and actions. Maybe Ann Coulter and Condoleezza Rice are modern day Joan of Arc’s who will burn at the grand auto-da-fe of flaming shit on our behalf. Maybe Dick Cheney crackling like bacon on a shit-fired charcoal grill is the sacrifice of a noble soul for the salvation of the human race. Or maybe they are only shit-golems formed by the fascination of the mind upon a world of colorful shit that glimmers like the rainbows upon an oil slick… who am I to say?

Perhaps it is but a dream of every dreamer taken to the world of their pleasure and that pleasure serving for Heaven or Hell depending on the satisfaction gained and the possibilities of the satisfaction’s increase. For herein lies the value of every dream; whether that dream continues forever on wings of expanded rapture through illuminated rooms or whether it descends into ever darker regions of shit. I am not like some and they are not like me. I do not know the meaning of this, all I know is that I am tired of the shit.

Bushligula falls and with him falls his retinue and his lackeys and all the kingdom’s residents for whom the world of shit woven was an acceptable cloth.

Visible sings: 911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible♫ Bush Family History Lesson ♫
'Bush Family History Lesson' is track no. 5 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'


911 was an Inside Job by Les Visible

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

What rip snorting excellence! This really cracked me up.

Ellen

Catnapping said...

ah geez. braVO...I love the metaphors within metaphors...such incisive wit, sir.

And I wanna personally thank you for alluding to "manifest destiny."

cat

Daithí said...

Fake Beer, Fake Sobriety, Fake Presidency.

http://gaelicstarover.blogspot.com/2005/09/fake-beer-fake-sobriety-fake.html

Anonymous said...

Lets not forget the issue of the huge and highly militarized police-force who WILL NOT TOLERATE CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE!!

Without the truth, the whole, horrible truth, the one that sets you free (after it makes you sick), this revolution will be bloody as shit mostly because everyone involved weren't properly told about Global Warming and Peak Oil.

They never knew what to expect and they will be angry ... they will feel deprived. They will shoot people - the wrong people, for the wrong reasons.

I read your previous article about finding the real enemy, the banker behind the banker behind Bush and I think you'd be perfect for the ungrateful job of helping us reveal the important truth that so few have accepted.

That truth, [i]the[/i] truth, is Peak Oil. We're running on empty and everything we do depend on fuel.

Write me and the world a piece about Peak Oil, and spell it out for us.

www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.com or dieoff.org are good sites for researching the inevitable crash of industrialized civilization which, when boiled down to its core, is just big-picture entropy.

Anonymous said...

yur in a class by yourself

so rare the combination of two related geniuses

those are the act of writing and the ability to think beyond the personal construct both of them in the automatic from elsewhere

Anonymous said...

Dear Sir

You are a Poet and a Prince!

signed
La Marchesa de Casati

Anonymous said...

keep writing this stuff, people are listening.

Digital Spy said...

re: anonymous@7:09

You mentioned Peak Oil and it caused me to have a flashback. I flashed back to when i was in my early teens talking in front of my science class where I made the mistake of saying something like(I will have to paraphrase here).
"If all of that oil is the product of decaying dinosaurs and stuff then there must have been a real shitload of it" (i got six of the best for saying shit that's why I remember it).
I still don't believe that oil comes from decaying dinosaurs and biological matter. I believe it is a product of natural processes within the planet. This is borne out by the fact that there are planets and moons in our solar system that are swimming in hydrocarbons. What sort of dinosaurs did they have on Titan?

sorry for anti-peak oil rant ;)

Jackanybear said...

You have surpassed Hunter Thompson, with your laser writing. I envy your ability, and honesty. I always thought, maybe I have the ability to write articles, until I have read yours. Your firm beliefs and talent, should never stop, it is actually a guiding light. Thanks for your insights.

Anonymous said...

Don't forget, you must love all shit equally.

Les Visible said...

People, thanks a million for all your good words. You've made me laugh and you've made me think. Sometimes I feel like the whole world is asleep and I know that can't be the case. Doing this informs me otherwise.

I don't usually answer in these threads. I used to do that another place and it just became a food fight too much for my tastes, especially since we weren't throwing food.

I do appreciate your responses and I do answer all emails- I figure if anyone has anything to say to me or needs something said back, that's as good a way as any with more possibilities all round.

If you do like my work be sure and go round to my metaphysical site listed in the masthead and in the menu.

Les Visible

Anonymous said...

wth does coprophagial mean? :O

Anonymous said...

coprophage = shit eater

Anonymous said...

Reminiscent of Lahey's fine shit-analogies from 'Trailer Park Boys':

e.g., "If you're being pelted with shit-balls, better get yourself a shit-bat."


- - - - -

If Oil is abiotic in origin, then geological processes create it: these are too slow to replenish anything like the 84 million barrels we burn each day.

Robespierre's ghost said...

GET 'UM VIS.

Anonymous said...

"If Oil is abiotic in origin, then geological processes create it: these are too slow to replenish anything like the 84 million barrels we burn each day."

Yup, and that's the only thing that matters. I'm sorry people, but this time it's the real deal ... and don't think I'm some kind of rapture-freak, obsessed with witnessing the end of the world. I was a 23 year-old, comfortably numb suburban white male with lots of bad habits, thoroughly enjoying myself and now I'm a 25 year old, noticably whiter male, disillisioned to the point of complete nihilism, with even MORE bad habits and sleeping problems to boot.

I'm not that worried about the future as such mind you, someone will probably survive and find a better path eventually, but I am terrified that billions of people are going to die while millions more become slaves and mass-murderes, never standing a chance because they were deliberately misinformed or simply didn't realize the situation before it was much too late.

I'm terrified that we'll go into the dark ages expecting a knight in white shining armor to come and rescue us in the form of amazing technologies.

1.)

Technology is the OPPOSITE of energy.

Technology such as cars and air-conditioners are what got us into this mess in the first place; it is thus unlikely that more technology will do anything except make it worse. Defy my logic, defy my thermo-dynamic reasoning, I dare you and remember: No oil - no solar-panel, no oil - no wind-tunnels, no oil - no nuclear plants (probably our best shot despite Peak Uranium being what .. 20 years away or something like it)

Yes people, I'm utterly petrified when the relevant scientists and experts publicly state that we'll head into the stone-ages if we don't shape up, NOW! I can't help it if you didn't hear that particular news-item, but you know, there's a reason you didn't and it's because:

There ... is ... no ... plan ... b.

SO I DON'T HAVE FUCKING TIME TO EXPLAIN TO YOU DIMWITS THAT OIL-FIELDS EITHER AREN'T RENEWED FAST ENOUGH OR NOT ALL, WE WILL NEVER RUN OUT OF OIL, WE WILL JUST GET LESS AND LESS, FASTER AND FASTER AT A HIGHER AND HIGHER PRICE BUT WITH LOWER AND LOWER QUALITY AND WE'RE PEAKING NOW IF WE HAVEN'T ALREADY!

Abiotic Oil is about as childish, illogical, unreasonable and most of all, unsubstantiated as it gets. It REEKS of desperation and mindnumbing gullibility. It is clear evidence that you have failed to do your homework.

Do your homework and you'll quickly realize that the problem is quantity and quality, you cannot drive a car on wind and you can't make petro-chemicals unless you have lots of hydro-carbons - The amazing building-blocks that made you and me, and this entire world and our civilization on it, possible.

We are in deep doo-doo, we don't have time to bicker anymore. Food, plastic, medicine, transportation and basically the entire world economy runs exclusively on forever expanding energy-supplies and when we're suddenly missing 10-15% supply, all hell is going to break lose UNLESS people are informed.

There is no replacement, there is only adaptation and adaptation for a million does not equal survival for a billion and that's the damn truth, the precise, logical, accurate, sickening and to the point TRUTH.

I could go on and on. I'm a bit of an expert in energy, society, nature and the rules of the game by now (no really, I've done my homework. Once I got started I couldn't stop, it's probably an obsession, I wouldn't know for sure as one rarely sees ones own problems lest they get in the way of self-satisfaction and might require me to change which I hate since I'm a human being)

You can read the summary in Heinbergs book, The party is Over (required reading!) or the lighting quick summary in dieoff.org's synopsis or of course www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.net which is a pretty brutal, but honest to God assessment of the situation our collective ass is facing. Combined they cover all three and their troublesome interactions and inter-dependency, (the rules) etc. etc. very effectively and will elevate you from sheep to ... informed or whatever.

What's your take on Peak Oil Visible, is this the first you've heard of it?

PS. You're wondering, if this is true then what's he doing writing these comments and reading, why isn't he preparing??

Simple:

I am a defeated man.

No one Ï love would believe me except for one friend and he refuses to talk about it. Their apathy seems unbreakable, the silence deafening and in the end I simply gave up and had a premonition of nuclear war being unavoidable due to the inevetable tyrant starting a war with China because, as you will remember, they took your jobs!

*sigh*

Yeah, I'm a little drunk. Don't mind me. It all just seems unavoidable, as if it's meant to go really bad, and it hurts. I cannot find any hope right now ... not in regards to saving the (human) world (as we know it).

PPS. Wow, you read it all? Thanks!

Anonymous said...

In answer to Anonymous at 12:38am

I do believe you.
And I do understand how you feel.

There is an old Japanese proverb to the effect that "a nail that protrudes from the floor is hammered down".

Sadly, that is exactly what is being done to those who protest war and violence. And to all those who see the injustice in this world and try to raise a voice in objection.

La Marchesa de Casati