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The Walrus Was Right

The US is a myth, a legend in its television mind, a monkey holding a banana thinking it's a cell phone, an ageing, dying, pre-packaged spectacle formatted to fit your TV, edited for content and to run in the allotted time slot...
Post Stupor Bowl Blitzkrieg advertising thoughts. I am not drunk; I didn't beat: the wife, the dog, the meat. I did not consume: snacks, diet soft drinks or pizza. I did not really enjoy the game, much. But I watched, I listened, I learned about the military/corporate/entertainment beast and its emissaries spreading fascism far and wide...and I wondered?

We can put on a spectacle like this but we can't: provide health care for tens of millions of Americans...or a living wage, or adequate schools. But there is always enough money to mount another spectacle, or war. Isn't war just another spectacle to create profit for the privileged and divert the attention of the masses from the real problems at hand, like, the economy is poised to drop off a cliff into oblivion. And the top one percent will profit from the misery of the remaining 99 out of hundred...who sit screaming for their team to win the Lombardy Trophy.

Sir Paul was there, lending his knighted presence to the festivities at hand. And you still think that the global seat of power is here, in the USA. London calling...you, the good ol' USA, to come and do their bidding as the hired thugs.

Interesting thoughts I would like to share with all those who enjoy a good history lesson. The Jordan/Palestinian Army was equipped and trained by the Army Special Forces back in the late seventies (when George Senior was the head of the CIA). The global elite always play both sides against each other. And profit from the conflict. As the jets did their fly by during that crappy, military choir rendition of our bloody national anthem, I couldn't help but think of all the help we gave Saddam back in the late eighties. And how those weapons and training are killing our soldiers today, tomorrow, next year. Fodder in a chess game that will become self evident when their bones have been forgotten. Exactly how is it that we are fighting such a well armed resistance? Is this an accident? We say Bush and Rummy are incompetent. But we ignore the more obvious solutions to the dilemma: our troops are lacking in materials and/or training and the resistance is well armed because...it's been planned that way. From the start, over a decade ago when this military adventure was devised, along with the staged attacks on American soil to instigate this conflict and everything else. Prearranged death, hysteria and insanity to cover up the dismantling of the us economy and our prized individual freedoms, formerly protected by a bill of rights.

And if Paul McCartney wore nothing but a loin cloth emblazoned with a circle A on his crotch, he would still be in service to his majesty, the Queen, and the globalists' capital, London, where all roads lead us onto oblivion, death, disease, misery, poverty, war without end in service of a collection of fat, balding white men with delusions of kingdom come dancing in their pants.

The Walrus was right. Paul is dead--a walking-singing-dancing corpse in service to his queen, prancing on the bones of Linda, George and John.

And the Patriots (from New England), i.e. the Bush family, which are really a bunch of Yankees from Maine, have won the television skies. For a Patriot must be a militaristic, tax paying, SUV soldier who worships these things that we must have: pizza, snacks, diet soft drinks, beer, cell phones et. al.

To all of you patriots: the country you worship doesn't exist. It's been dismantled, owned by foreign banks, global corporations and served up in public imaging commercials. The US is a myth, a legend in its television mind, a monkey holding a banana thinking it's a cell phone, an ageing, dying, pre-packaged spectacle formatted to fit your TV, edited for content and to run in the allotted time slot, which ended, officially, on August 12, 1983.

The rest has been installed, like a time-looped tape in a surveillance camera. The same old shit, day after day, year after year.

Until you're dumb enough to believe: the Spectacle is real; the Spectacle is the truth.

Wonder what the long-deceased Beatles' manager, Brian Epstein, who discovered the lads from Liverpool, would have to say about all this Super Bowl stuff.

The empire has spoken. Do you have a sufficient answer?

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night."

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Beatle Music was Awesome 07.Feb.2005 16:30

The Rat

The Beatles music at halftime was awesome. Paul has pretty much devoted his entire life to his music. He and the Beatles brought joy to the world and were honored for it. Knighthood? Big Deal. In the UK it's like getting a lifetime acheivement award. All this whining. Where were the PC police when child molester Michael Jerkson did the gig? Surrounded by children? Attacking McCartney is an excercise in futility, not to mention stupidity. Some people just hate anything British and will take aim at anyone deemed "aristocratic". At least he stands up for legal Cannabis, even when he was busted with it. That's more than 99% of mega-stars would do. Yeah, that Paulie, he's the ENEMY of mankind, isn't he? I guess the only performers acceptable to you would have been Pete Seeger and Joan Baez, or maybe Wheezer. Paul has raised more Charity $ and knocked down more walls than any 1000 blubbering PC babies. Find someone worth crucifying. Geeez.

curious, sounds like I have heard this somewhere before... 07.Feb.2005 16:42

troll watch

The Rat = 'nosy mouse'?

many names 07.Feb.2005 18:26

rat

Toad: The Rat has many names

The Walrus and The Carpenter 07.Feb.2005 23:17

an eggman

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."


I post this piece not to remind us of Mr Bush and the Fascists rape of the masses. I would not suggest to think of the budget cuts, the enslavement of the masses through debt, the murder of numerous people for oil and profit all while supporting corporate welfare and privatization of the commons. I leave it for you to read into it what you wish to read:




The Walrus and The Carpenter
by Lewis Carroll
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

correction 08.Feb.2005 01:04

blackbird

it was 1987, not the late seventies, when the army rangers, not special forces, conducted their live fire training exercises with the jordan ranger army; the author apologises for this error

Rat speaks truth 08.Feb.2005 01:21

Warfarin

Attacking McCartney is an excercise in futility, not to mention stupidity.

McCartney's music was awesome. That it was propaganda, that you wish it wasn't awesome, cannot change that. You need to find a way to say Paul is a corpse servicing his queen without rousing the anger of those masses who are supposed to rise up against him and her.

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