December 2007 Archives
If you haven't been following media coverage of Benazir Bhutto's assassination at the hands of the Pakistani government, it's been pretty goddamn hilarious. Javed Iqbal Cheema, the "Interior Ministry Spokesman" for the Musharraf government, has been busy at work making Baghdad Bob look like a patron saint of truth-telling. Fox News has lapped up his every rezonkulous claim and regurgitated his unchecked words as "headlinable fact." Witness:
If you look at their coverage splash from a few days ago, the following UNCHECKED FACTS become undisputed rightwinger currency:
Here's the video showing the shirt on Bhutto's back painted red with her own blood, in perfect sync with gunshots ringing out. Good thing the Pakistani government has assured us that everything will be cleared up once they exhume her and send us a written transcript (no media!!!~) of the re-autopsy. I was confused.
- Al Qaida himself sent a bomber to shoot at/frighten Benazir Bhutto
- Benazir Bhutto was so scared by the bomb that she hit her head on a sunroof lever and died immediately
- "The government says" is good enough, even when said government is pretty decent at routinely being FUCKING LIARS.
Here's the video showing the shirt on Bhutto's back painted red with her own blood, in perfect sync with gunshots ringing out. Good thing the Pakistani government has assured us that everything will be cleared up once they exhume her and send us a written transcript (no media!!!~) of the re-autopsy. I was confused.
America is a country. We're sick; deeply sick. Injured. We've suffered injurious amounts of sickness in a particular dimension of our being, amounting to the current confused state in which we all find ourselves. Who are we anymore?
When there's some awful malady that you can't ignore, the only way out is pain or death. Pain is suffered for the fix; the surgery. Which part needs surgery? The back? Is our back figuratively broken? No. You will never break the back of America. The backbone of America is embodied by some 67-year-old guy named Gus who gets up at 5:30 AM to head down to the city square and clean up your trash. That's the American back, and it remains healthy as hell.
Legs? A broken leg(s)? No, those are just fine. That's our economy, sound as ever. Cyclical, yes. The left leg of the government moves in time with the right leg of the free market. We would go in a fucking circle without one sweeping forward to carry the momentum of the other. There are rough times, but these legs cannot be broken.
Maybe our country has suffered a broken arm. Nope, doesn't seem that way to me. We trade with other nations and we produce our own goods just as well as anyone else on Earth. Maybe one arm takes more than the other produces, but that's not a broken arm. That's just confusion. Why so confused? Hold on a sec.
I have to address the heart. The heart of this country is not broken. They're serving in Baghdad and Kabul and anywhere else they are sent. They enable the flow of freedom through our circulatory system just like they always have, pumping and pumping in perfect athletic fitness. Our defenses alone determine the ability of our arms to reach and build and destroy, all through the providence of freedom's deep crimson bloodflow. Our blood burns hot as our heart suffers blow after blow, but it is not broken. Not yet.
Where are we at? What is broken? Why, it's the brain, you see. We've lost our conscience. Without a journalistic media that oversees and exposes the governance put forth by the other parts of the brain, we are addled by whatever wishes and fantasies those who are in control of every other part so desire. Corrupt and gripped with megalomania, psychotic murder-sick justifications of mass killing, and unimpeded desire to consume and alter everything within our sphere of being, we find our body out of control.
The conscience alone could correct this horrid affliction, but as such an abstract device in our body's function, it has been lost to the omnivorous greed of our brain's center: the ruling class. With the passion in our heart and the freedom in our blood, we the people of these United States (the moral instinct) could compel ourselves to be rid of the sickness that gnaws the inner workings of our brain and drives our entire body ever further toward ruin.
Surgery could fix the conscience. Excision of the old conscience and implanting a new one built on the moral instinct of our blood and moment could be the one fix that saves the brain, correcting the corruptive forces of the dominant ruling section. Our overtaxed and overworked body could begin to relax again. We could stop leaping over oceans and partitions, suffering constant bruises and infections, and we could just be again, walking along with the twin legs of economy, the arms taking and giving what is needed, and the back providing steady guidance and upright movement.
Destroy the mass media. Fuck them all. Let's get together and poison their efforts, check their every injustice, and lay bare their every trick. A malfunctioning part of our figurative mind cannot poison our blood, it can only compel us toward slow suicide. It must be our instinct to push back.
When there's some awful malady that you can't ignore, the only way out is pain or death. Pain is suffered for the fix; the surgery. Which part needs surgery? The back? Is our back figuratively broken? No. You will never break the back of America. The backbone of America is embodied by some 67-year-old guy named Gus who gets up at 5:30 AM to head down to the city square and clean up your trash. That's the American back, and it remains healthy as hell.
Legs? A broken leg(s)? No, those are just fine. That's our economy, sound as ever. Cyclical, yes. The left leg of the government moves in time with the right leg of the free market. We would go in a fucking circle without one sweeping forward to carry the momentum of the other. There are rough times, but these legs cannot be broken.
Maybe our country has suffered a broken arm. Nope, doesn't seem that way to me. We trade with other nations and we produce our own goods just as well as anyone else on Earth. Maybe one arm takes more than the other produces, but that's not a broken arm. That's just confusion. Why so confused? Hold on a sec.
I have to address the heart. The heart of this country is not broken. They're serving in Baghdad and Kabul and anywhere else they are sent. They enable the flow of freedom through our circulatory system just like they always have, pumping and pumping in perfect athletic fitness. Our defenses alone determine the ability of our arms to reach and build and destroy, all through the providence of freedom's deep crimson bloodflow. Our blood burns hot as our heart suffers blow after blow, but it is not broken. Not yet.
Where are we at? What is broken? Why, it's the brain, you see. We've lost our conscience. Without a journalistic media that oversees and exposes the governance put forth by the other parts of the brain, we are addled by whatever wishes and fantasies those who are in control of every other part so desire. Corrupt and gripped with megalomania, psychotic murder-sick justifications of mass killing, and unimpeded desire to consume and alter everything within our sphere of being, we find our body out of control.
The conscience alone could correct this horrid affliction, but as such an abstract device in our body's function, it has been lost to the omnivorous greed of our brain's center: the ruling class. With the passion in our heart and the freedom in our blood, we the people of these United States (the moral instinct) could compel ourselves to be rid of the sickness that gnaws the inner workings of our brain and drives our entire body ever further toward ruin.
Surgery could fix the conscience. Excision of the old conscience and implanting a new one built on the moral instinct of our blood and moment could be the one fix that saves the brain, correcting the corruptive forces of the dominant ruling section. Our overtaxed and overworked body could begin to relax again. We could stop leaping over oceans and partitions, suffering constant bruises and infections, and we could just be again, walking along with the twin legs of economy, the arms taking and giving what is needed, and the back providing steady guidance and upright movement.
Destroy the mass media. Fuck them all. Let's get together and poison their efforts, check their every injustice, and lay bare their every trick. A malfunctioning part of our figurative mind cannot poison our blood, it can only compel us toward slow suicide. It must be our instinct to push back.
