Archive for the ‘Comment’ Category

Short, and sharp, and shit.

That’s how we like it.

No wasted time,

straight to the point,

the message clear,

the bad news,

the cringing fear,

so we can move on

to the next article.

Short, and sharp, and shit.





Happy Independence Day!

Six nights ago, and always…

M16s like candy,

agree or die.

El Presidente is our resident

patriotic rodent

(your oppressor,

our puppet dictator),

obedient to the true ruling classes,

backroom guys,

money gods,

sacred capitalist dogma.

Welcome, motherfuckers, to the land of the free,

coming to your country,

opening a factory,

giving you jobs,


putting you to work,


Put down your AK-47s, too easy to use,

too enabling,

and listen to us

we’ll complicate your lives,

make things interesting,

give you everything you didn’t know you needed,





Drink the kool-aid child and dream,

of freedom,

to buy hollow commodities,

with cocaine-laced dollars,

hell, yeah,

those bastards keep the economy going,

you in the gutter,

*our* dreams, riches and power intact.

Happy Interdependence Day, in deed and fact.




Someone told me that the news man makes $28million each year. Wow!

True, he seems to work hard, presenting the news, gracing our TV screens, informing the masses, looking and sounding good, intoning correctly, solemn and/or smiling when appropriate,

barely pausing for a breath,

everybody’s apparent friend.

But, wow!

However likeable he may seem, what are the implications?

News is free and unbiased?


“This is our country. 25,000 years, my people have been here. … You look, end to end, this land, remnants of my people’s middens. … This is *our* country.”

His voice was proud and indignant with no tinge of irony. He made it clear that I wasn’t a part of “our”.

I nodded, affecting what I hoped he interpreted as respect.

I wanted to live.

I wanted to leave.

Love for environment and connection to the land.

We desecrate, violate, complicate.

We implicate.

Fundamentally, we only love ourselves.



Evolution of the species and

survival of the fittest,


it makes sense.

I look at the animal kingdom and, indeed,

I agree!

But I look at humans and, sadly,

it is all too clear

that the basest,

crappiest pieces of trash

are the ones who procreate the most.

Survival of the fittest?

Just look around!

Humans, society and this world we have made:

inbred freak show,

sick, sad parade.


Preacher says we’re in this world to be Kings and Priests,

not bit-part actors or mere minions,

it’s in the Word, after all,

the righteous, by Jesus, have dominion.

I want to believe.

I need to believe.

But I get no respite,

no relief from the shit of life,

people and systems screwing me over,


drowning at the bottom of the barrel.

And, yes, I can do all things through Christ Jesus,

but why does it always have to be the hard way,

for me,

every day like pushing a massive boulder up a narrow mountain trail.

So tired,

pissed off and rejected,

pissed upon and dejected.

It seems I’ve been forgotten,


A king and a priest?

Like a Romanov and Rasputin?

1916, 1917,

all semblance of propriety lost,

bludgeoned and beaten.

(No, Jesus, no…)


It’s all over.

And I feel empty, deflated, tired and wasted.

Used, abused and confused,

wondering about the point of it all.

Farcical and contentious,

it gives me the shits…

like Caster oil.

Corruption, poverty, moral decadence,

depravity, no one around to bear witness,

to see.

To ask:

Is this the Olympics?


Another day.

Another man sells his soul to the devil.

Professing a religion,

motivated by hate,

self-righteous evil,

he acts

and drags all humanity down.

Endless spiral.

Hell on Earth.


He exited the gym, pleased with his exertions,

feeling the benefit in his muscles and body,

exercise. So pure!

Sweat, cleansing,

so healthy-feeling.

He took a long and satisfying drag on his cigarette.



She exited the clinic,

botox procedure complete,

her face smoother.

Contented, youth restored.

She screwed her eyes shut, squinting dramatically,

the glare of the Sun.


So, a few more people realized, remembered this year,

oh, the human penchant for so-called milestones,

isn’t publicity a wonderful thing?

And, how do *we* feel?


The added attention only serves to highlight people’s ignorance and ultimate apathy.

After distractedly devoting three minutes of half-attention,

they move on, banality beckons.

People are kinetic beings,

like polluted winds,

they move on,

affecting, effecting and infecting somewhere, someone else.

Do *we* ever move on?

(Only in my imagination…)

Generally, we are in a demented kind of kinetic stasis,

like atoms moving frantically, acting and reacting on instinct and memory, agitated, but not actually going anywhere.

(Where would you like to go?)


(What is “home”?)

A concept of comfort and belonging, safety.

(Is such possible in this world?)