Nice that George Bush has got around to signing a bill starting to investigate the attacks of 9/11. It only took the administration a month or two to get the “Patriot Act” together to completely rape your rights to privacy. Now over a year later he hires an 80 year old fuck who hasn’t done much but grow polyps since his last great feat - orchestrating the covert bombing of Cambodia - to get to the bottom of what happened on 9/11.
Maybe a year from now he’ll call for an investigation on all this whoop-dee-doo about some sniper.
Meanwhile, the inspectors are busy looking for weapons of mass destruction over in Iraq. I wonder if they are taking away peoples nail clippers and Swiss Army knives. This Austin American-Statesman ran an article this morning regarding the inexperience of the team of inspectors, singling out one Jack McGeorge whose experience aside from the Marines and Secret Service includes being the co-founder of Black Rose and the Leather Leadership Conference, both S&M clubs. This guy could see a corn cob or a horse bit as a destructive weapon.
This “inspection” of Iraq will work like the cliché scene where the southern cop knocks out the hippies tail-light and then gives him a ticket for it being out. They will find something benign or non-existent or they will say that they weren’t allowed “full access”.
“We want to check in your babies asses for stores of smallpox.”
“No fucking way!”
“They won’t comply. Send in the air strike.”
I’m not anti-war out of compassion for innocent lives. Most people need dead as far as I am concerned. I just don’t like the painfully obvious dupe-job that this war is somehow connected to terrorism or being done “for the safety and security of the American people.” Maybe Saddam is an insane egomaniac. Most people who find themselves worthy of leading people would fit the description. But I never felt threatened by him.
I don’t think an American has ever felt threatened by Saddam, save for the military that was sent to fight him a decade back. But that’s what they signed up for, ain’t it? To blindly follow whatever orders the leader of the day calls for, to fire upon whatever target the President says is threatening or “evil”? Ask any of them out of context if they trust politicians and 99 out of 100 will say no without stuttering or a qualifying follow up statement. But they will assume that any orders by those same politicians to kill people must be in the best interest of American safety and nothing but. I guess you’d have to force yourself to think that way.
In Nigeria, Muslims hit the streets throwing death and fire in every direction when a journalist made a comment that the prophet Mohammed may well have chosen one of the Miss World competition as a bride. Hundreds dead in the streets for the slight. How this was construed as an insult, I still don’t know. Maybe this years crop of beauty queens are pigs compared to the poon back in Mohammed’s day.
Odd that the Miss World folks expected more from a country that still practices clitoral circumcision and sentenced a woman to be stoned to death for being raped out of wedlock. Maybe they figured that with all that going on they wouldn’t get flack for objectifying women. Hard to cry sexism for having women in bikinis scrutinized by a panel of judges when there’s a mother across the street being beaned in the head with bricks, her baby continuing to nurse off her flapjack tit until the milk goes bad.
If GW came out and threatened to carpet bomb these nitwit Nigerians for no other reason than being backwards assholes with no known benefit to humanity, it would be far easier to support than trying to swallow rhetoric Iraq being a threat to my daily routine when it’s just about greed and personal vendettas.
It really isn’t the leaders and their bullshit that scare me, it’s the masses that buy it like it was 50 cent draft beer.
Timing is everything.
After the cavalcade of Jager double shots at Dante's in Portland, around where the show began to go into endless rambling and I became less aware of my surroundings, someone decided it was time to eat mushrooms.
And in what seemed like minutes I was compeletely aware of being blackout drunk. Rooms twisting and trailing like a a movie re-enactment of a trip. Completely aware of my mouths inability to create words.
Mary's tittie bar where they say we spent half an hour yet I was positive it was no more than 90 seconds - I saw the mother bartender and daughter dancer become so close in age that I had to look away.
Then to the smut shop where I couldn't get a bill into the dollar slot for a quick spank. All the gutteral sounds from adjoing spank booths were amplified like a stadium in my head and I couldn't tell if they were from movies or actual events taking place. All I knew is that my laughter could get me in trouble here and I couldn't stop. Strange people on the street kept talking to me and Andy, as strange people tend to do when you are out of your mind. This would have been amazing if I weren't so drunk.
It was still a little amazing.
Thanks, Goose, for the trip and Chaille for keeping it all together while the rest of us went out of our heads. Sorry to the folks I didn't get a chance to say hello to.
More thanks to Marconi & Tiny from KNRK for helping me pack the joint. I never have more fun on radio.