N.P.: “Get Loud” – Damned Anthem, Southside Dren
Monthly Archives: May 2024
Word of the Day: remembrance
In honor of Memorial Day, our Word of the Day is “remembrance.” Judging by the number of people I’ve heard who’ve very inappropriately wish me or anyone else, “Happy Memorial Day,” a reminder is necessary. This word encapsulates the essence of this important holiday, which serves as a time to honor and remember those who have sacrificed their lives in military service.
Remembrance (noun): The action of remembering something or someone, often a person who has died; a memory or commemoration.
The word “remembrance” originates from the Middle English “remembraunce,” which in turn comes from the Old French “remembrance.” Its roots lie in the Latin verb “rememorari,” meaning “to remember,” composed of “re-” (again) and “memor” (mindful).
On this Memorial Day, let us all take a moment of remembrance for the brave souls who have served and sacrificed. Their legacy lives on through our memories and our commitment to never forget.
May 25, 2024
Either I’m going mad or there is a definite conspiracy afoot in the world, a conspiracy of fatness and blindness, backed up by a sinister mindless kind of reasoning …. ~ HST
I am legitimately confused by a whole helluva lot when it comes to American society today. Most of it, really. Then there are certain things I am completely disgusted by when it comes to American Society today. I am unfortunately both confused and disgusted by the cowardliness and pusillanimity that has spread across this once badass land.
I could here list some of the things I’ve seen this week and go off on some screed about all the different ways the behavior of my fellow Americans has become unacceptably vaginal, but I won’t let myself. Instead I’ll just focus on one particularly pathetic topic: the alleged squatting crisis.
First of all, fuck you: what crisis? There is no crisis. Why would there be a crisis of squatting? The only way that would be possible is if more than one American came home to find someone else in their house and didn’t know what to do. And if this is actually the case, it is a massive and absolutely shameful problem.
Suddenly some people seem significantly more worried about “squatters’ rights” than their own rights. Holy shit. What’s going on with these people? These so-called Americans? What happened to balls, and hubris? What happened to just doing what needs to be done without having to first consider the legal ramifications like some old lady?
I do have some sympathy…after all we’re living in a reality where the federal government has intentionally flooded the country with criminals and then began prosecuting citizens for defending themselves.
But whatever sympathy I may have quickly dissipates because fuck this government. And that’s kind of the point. The American public, at least half of them, have been educated right out of the ability to question and even resent the government, and instead they revere the government and its officials almost as parents, upon which they are dependents. “Can’t make my own decisions anymore…gotta wait to hear what the government says.” Well, fuck that. Absolutely fuck that, sans lube or any pretense of foreplay. Do my fellow Americans not remember that “when government fear the people, there is freedom. When people fear the government, there is tyranny”? When I was working in the state prison, there was a saying that was very popular with the corrections officers: “I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by six.” I shouldn’t have to explicate this, but apparently to the present crappy crop of Americans, it’s necessary: if you feel like your life, family, well-being, or way of life is being threatened, immediately eliminate the threat by any and all means necessary, and legal consequences be damned: better to spend the next year in court testifying to a jury that they would have done the exact same thing you did than to not have the opportunity to defend yourself in court because you are dead due to failure to shoot back, you didn’t know what to do, et cetera. In other words, I’m going to do whatever I think I need to do to protect myself and my family, and the law can go fuck itself.
I guess the real issue undergirding all of this ridiculousness for me is the absolutely pitiful learned helplessness and dependence on the fucking government for basic decision making. People seemed to lose all balls at some point during the bullshit COVID lockdowns. Which is a huge, nightmarish topic to get in to. So we’re going to have to shortcut for the sake of time. Brace yourself:
The current US government does NOT have your best interests in mind. In fact, I believe the present administration and its woke supporters are decidedly anti-American. They are certainly anti-white and anti-male. And I suspect (and sincerely hope) they will hang for their crimes. I’m thinking something like Mr. and Mrs. Mussolini, being machine-gunned and then hanged upside down would be appropriate for the entirety of the current administration.
Look…this isn’t complicated. If someone comes into your home uninvited while you are home, shoot them. If someone comes into your home uninvited while you are out, come home and shoot them. And if someone comes into your home uninvited while you and your family are away on vacation, shoot them as soon as you get home. If you are silly enough not to own multiple firearms, then use whatever is on-hand to destroy the unwanted presence. That these simple rules are no longer innate and instinctual in much of the current U.S. populace is both disheartening and alarming.
And I’m not talking out of turn…in 2006, I came home to my shitty apartment to find three dudes inside my home, with a chair under the front door knob to block my entrance. I was completely alone and unarmed. The second I saw the chair under the door, I started kicking my way in, which probably took three seconds. Within five seconds of kicking in the door, the threat had been eliminated, never to return.
If you are away and come home to discover some shitbag pretending they live there, your first reaction should not be to consult a lawyer – you’re first reaction should be to click the safety off on your AR. They can sue you all you want after they’re dead. And they can deliver your summons or arrest you in your own house, not out in some shitty rented RV parked in front of what was apparently legally formally your house.
Post Script: There was recently a bullshitty meme question that popped up in my feed, which asked, “If someone broke into your house and took whatever was on top of your fridge, what would they get?”
My answer: “Shot.”
And I got a bunch of shit about it, exclusively from liberal white women whining and lecturing about the value of property versus the value of human life. One even sent a follow up meme which basically asked what I’d do if someone messed with my dog. My response was the same: lethal gunfire. I was then hit with outrage and indignation: “You are literally saying a dog’s life is more valuable than a human life.” Of course, I corrected her: “That is not at all what I’m saying. I’m saying my dog’s life is more valuable than some shitbag’s life…no question, no hesitation.”
The truth is I would open up the guns on somebody who tried to take the ashes from the bottom of my bar-b-que. And I find it strange and pathetic that not everybody thinks this way.
Sack up, America.
N.P.: “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
May 19, 2024
I was reading a post from one of my hippie friends bitching about “fake, made-up holidays.” I’ve heard similarly dim people speak derisively about “Hallmark Holidays.” What twaddle.
Rather than spend the next half hour hurling invective at this stupidity like Zeus hurls lightning bolts at mortals, I will instead rhetorically ask the questions I would as this person if she was here.
First, define your terms: what is a fake or made-up holiday? I guess most importantly, what is your definition of “made up”? Can you give me an example of a fake holiday? Now give me an example of a real (non-fake) holiday. What exactly is the difference between the two?
This type of world view truly baffles me. What sort of myopic historical perspective must one have to think that…Jesus. Okay, look: all holidays are made up. How the fuck else do you think they came to be? Like certain holidays always existed in the Empyrion and when the guys sat down to create the first calendar, they said to themselves, “Okay…the only rules are 12 months, 52 weeks, and 12 months…seven days a week…other than that, go nuts. Oh wait…we can’t forget about the holidays…we have this list of holidays given to us from On High…so these holidays have to celebrated on these specific days. But other than that, go nuts.”
Listen, Sunshine: all the holidays, like all of the calendars, like time itself, are made-up.
N.P.: “Cinnamon Girl” – Jeff Russo, Noah Hawley
May 4, 2024
Hello there, you wild beasts of the night (and day) – apologies for the ghastly gap in our saga; the world’s been spinning on a dime, and I’ve been running along its edge, trying not to fall off into the abyss of the ridiculous. It’s been a mad dash, so much so that my liquor cabinet has started to gather dust, a cardinal sin in my universe. This is an intolerable state of affairs; as a scribe caught in the whirlwind of chaos, sobriety is akin to walking naked into a blizzard.
Once upon a time, under the cloak of night, I’d hammer away at the keys, unleashing torrents of words to drown out the cacophony of what we’ve affectionately termed Clown World. It was cathartic, a ritualistic cleansing from the filth and folly of daylight hours. Yet, here we stand, at the precipice where speaking truths, or what masquerades as truth, is a tightrope walk over a canyon filled with dynamite. The game has changed – it’s no longer just about splattering ink on paper but dodging bullets while you do it. Writing, for those of us deranged enough to stick with it, has morphed into a grotesque triathlon where one partakes in blood sports by day, indulges in avant-garde performance art by twilight, and executes counterterrorism operations under the cover of night.
But hell, retreat is for the feeble-hearted, and I’ve never been one to back down from a good fight or a bad decision. In the spirit of refusing to go gently into that good night, I’ve added a purple belt to my collection this week – a testament, perhaps, to my enduring penchant for masochism and my relentless pursuit of… whatever the hell it is we’re all pursuing.
Strap in, dear readers, as we plunge headfirst back into the fray, armed with nothing but a typewriter, a bottle, and a disdain for the insipid. The world may be a circus, but we’ve got front-row seats and an all-access pass to the madness. Here’s to the ride – may it be fraught with danger, drenched in absurdity, and, above all, never boring.
N.P.: “Check Yo Self (from The Predator)” – Ice Cube