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Originally posted on Dean J. Baker - Poetry, and prose poems:

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©Dean J. Baker

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I Protest – So?

Cake? Gimme banana

Protest against government is really funny. You have all these idiots who elected the people in the first place complaining. Of course what isn’t so hilarious is if you were one of those warning against electing the person.

If they’re Liberals, it is practically a guarantee that they will lie, distort facts, cheat, slander and claim innocence. If you wonder where do they come from, that’s easy too: remember those fuckpads in school who always had a surreptitiously smug attitude that inferred they knew better than you, were better than you, and that soon you’d be their tool? Those are the ones.
You knew then not to believe anything they said; watched as they manipulated other susceptible kids, laughed about it: and they too infrequently did not get their faces crimped by a fist or a boot.
What kind of ‘tard are you that you’d believe anything those people would say when you’re supposedly wiser, and older?

If what politicians do was accomplished by outsiders, war would be declared. If it wasn’t a politician who bankrupted a province, county, state, there’d be a charge of treason. So why aren’t there any penalties at all? Couldn’t you protest? Write letters?
Sure, but you have the kids, your job, you can’t really take the time off, and there’s always some fuckhead who wants to stay home and watch tv, in case you decide to organize.

Guess who knows all that? And counts on it? Those same kids that needed a good old fashioned punch out. But they went for the daisy-chain gravy train: bureaucrats, government jobs. You know, the same snotty assholes working at government agencies when they know you’re number 787 in line for forms.
And they’re funded by the sneakier shitheads who probably blew everyone from Genghis Khan to Bill Clinton.
And they’re in it for what you don’t have: cash, and security.

They direct the news you respond to, make it impossible to fulfill reasonable demands like transparency in government and media. They have crooked lawyers helping craft laws, constitutional changes, and adverse deeds you find out about afterwards when you can’t do anything but complain.

Ideals are out. They’ve been trashed by the practical realities of cash and security: maintained by agenda, defended by lies.

People used to laugh about the Russian example of entrenched robots afraid of being kulaked (disagree and die or disappear). The sameness of it all. Bland, dreary, mind numbing.
Here it is prejudice being fought, with primary colors. Aggression against stupidity. And really, there are a lot of stupid fuckers out there in high positions, but their support base is a bunch of bent hillbillies who make the Hatfields and McCoys look like pikers.
Which illustrates a point: the ideals proclaimed are so divergent from the reality of the people contriving to make them standards that this allows the pathological twist away from accountability. Fear rules.

Afraid of losing the job, afraid of losing the office, afraid of someone else getting ahead. Etc., etc., all the while pretending the machinery must keep going.

So just who is aspiring to any ideals these days? Know anyone who’s making a living and doing so, not compromised by those ahead of them? Nope. We tow the line, make small noises and whimpers, and the machinery of doom carries onward.

Education can help. But that would be realistic education. The sort that says people will walk over other peoples’ bodies to get ahead. And the stress of that awareness will make still others not only ignore this, but need desperately to ignore it. That’s the creature inside, the animal being. We’re all wolves, some of us just lead the pack.

Where are the ethics’ explorations that would teach a discipline that could overcome such ingrained bullying without becoming one? And the lessons that say this could be a wrong proposition to be considered.
But peoples’ nature doesn’t change: there would have to be a trust that after the loser got brained, the winner would not become the new bully. And if they did, they’d face consequences designed to punish and prevent their like doing so.. until next time.

I mistakenly thought those were the laws and rights of the free world. You know, where policemen were to be trusted, politicians would represent our best interests, school was necessary and good, and work was rewarded not line-stamped to a hamster wheel. Robber barons made huge donations of hospitals and schools, and the rich were genuinely interested in improving the lives of the poor, even if temporarily.

There’s a lesson to be learned from Kuba, Stalin. Once the peasants were slaughtered, they of course had no rights to exercise. While alive, there was always even the remotest possibility they could.

We may be stupid, may not know enough, may vote wrongly, may not have the ability to discern between the fine lines of naivete and gullibility, but by virtue of being alive, we do have the right to living, rather than existing in either a tv land of walking dead, or the simple-mindedness of retarded ideals entrenched as a tool for the powerful to carry on their own ideals.

Start letting go of the tools they use to maintain their status quo. At least be aware of them. Engage in some discipline that can free up whatever remains of your perspective to notice things.
Start learning how to think.

Educate yourself: that’s the only freedom.


©Dean J. Baker

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Cartoons & Caricatures

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

Driving down the road through the small town and I see at the cinema two shows: One’s a cartoon, one’s again the retelling of Jesus.

Scrolling through the home page of Twitter, I see the cacophony of inane Pretty Girls and Disaffected Guys bothering to type out every brain fart, miasmic shit, and idiocy – things that you hope pass through your brain very quickly if you have them, and nothing you’d think worth paying attention to for a second.
You know, sort of like ‘get that shit out of the way, there has to be important things coming through at any moment.’

These people have followers. Implying someone likes that shit, or like me feel as if they’re a forensic psychologist sifting the evidence for signs of firing neurons, not the dismal reality that the majority is usually occupied with suffocation by triviality.
Not that you’d want every single second to be subjected to something solemn and serious, but the majority of those twits ought to carry a designation like ‘This Is Shit Pretending To Itself To Be Funny.’
Reminds me of slutty barmaids and drunken goobers in a poor adaptation of Shakespeare, or Marlowe.

A real high school parade of moronic invocation leading to more. What’s the deal? A hope for popularity that leads to funding and thus enshrinement in culture? We’ve already endured that circle of unbroken crap admiring itself for no other reason other than its existence. These are people that need to be pushed off the planet.
I’d say we ship them off to Mars if possible, or otherwise drop kick them into some Arctic prison when the government finally wakes up and cordons off Alaska as one gigantic prison farm, managed by criminal retards. Or pick some State that when you think of it, say to yourself, nope, never going to that ass-bend in the country.

And the movies? Always from the point of view of the winner. If not, a somber enduring tale of suffragette women conquering the awful world of men. Get fucked! If you’re one of those whose main theme in life is men suck, you’re obviously hanging around a burnt out disco. Same as for the guys who bitch about women. Dumbasses. How about one where the perspective is a little wider, encompassing both: We Were Bitches.

What all of this is would be a complaint about the focus of attention being distilled to the point of insanity. The wall of Babel, the noise of too many mouths yapping.

Really, a world of people with opinions that are not far from being full-bore retarded due to the fact that the world of science and technology has so progressed that what’s apparent to the nitwits are their own belly buttons and other assorted parts by which they allow themselves to be defined. And in so doing represent the culture.

Inane, repetitive, adolescent, and basically, stupid. And these are your voters. Fuck, we’re doomed.

Before 1929, the stock market rose for 8 years straight. Despite corruption indemnified, ‘nothing but blue skies’ was the theme. That’s not happening now but it’s close – now as a culture, we’ve wised up. That would be too silly. But it doesn’t stop us from the tragic replication of those times, minus the jobs, in attitude and enshrinement of the stupid: still, no balance between enjoyment and accomplishment.

We think we’re watching cartoons and we’ve become the cartoon: the narcissistic caricature of what might have been which doesn’t even get to wake up dead one day.

As my father would say when confronted with some particular piece of news, ‘”Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

©Dean J. Baker

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