When Twitter Met Meatspace

From the Shadow Secretary of State, Michael Scheuer via Lew Rockwell. I'm trying to cut down on re-re-blogging, but this is important,

• The leaders of Libya, Tunisia, and Egypt were secular dictators. One thing each of these secular leaders did was suppress Islam and persecute, imprison, or kill Muslims who held too closely to their faith, spoke too publicly and vociferously in its support, or opposed by word or deed the un-Islamic actions of their government. It is worth mentioning that each of these leaders was paid handsomely by U.S. and Western governments for the persecution of Islam. Needless to say, when the tyrants departed, the people of each country became much freer to profess, live, and apply their faith. Islam, at last, had become the way.
• The leaders of Libya, Tunisia, and Egypt were master jailers. Their prisons were full of convicts. There were many common felons and crooks, but there was just as many – if not more – mujahedin fighters, theorists, logisticians, clerics, etc. When the Islamist Spring took down the master jailers, the prisons were opened and the freed Islamist fighters and their supporters returned to local militant groups and traveled far and wide to join al-Qaeda and other such organizations. These men had maintained and probably strengthened their faith while jailed, and they likewise burned to avenge the treatment they had received while incarcerated. Not surprisingly, this result of the Islamist Spring brought mujahedin groups around the world large numbers of experienced, skilled, and angry reinforcements.
• The leaders of Libya, Tunisia, and Egypt were experts at keeping almost all weaponry under their governments’ control, just as President Obama seeks to do in the United States. At the time of the Islamist Spring, the militaries of Libya, Tunisia, and Egypt were exceptionally well-armed with up-to-date weaponry, and their many arsenals – like those of Sadam Hussein in 2003 – were stuffed to overflowing with reserve weapons and ammunition. When the tyrants fell, each country’s internal-security apparatus naturally disintegrated and the arsenals were thoroughly looted by Islamists who ferried away massive amounts of modern arms and munitions for safe keeping in rural areas or in remote regions of nearby countries. Thus the Islamist Spring yielded an international mujahedin force better armed than at anytime since its inception in the 1980s.

and delicious for the end-zone antics:


"I draw attention to myself on this occasion because I know that I am far from the brightest bulb in the shed. In their periodic efforts to get me fired from Georgetown University, in fact, my detractors among pro-Israel U.S. citizens tell the Georgetown deans that not only am I an anti-Semite but the school where I earned my Ph. D. – the University of Manitoba in Canada – is a "diploma mill" and that I am therefore unqualified to teach at the graduate level. Though, of course, I disagree with this conclusion and their slander of fine university, let us suppose that they are correct and that I am a bear of little or even almost no brain. How then could I have been so right about the Islamist Spring and the disasters it would cause, while Mrs. Clinton (Yale); Senator McCain (U.S. Naval Academy); Prime Minister Cameron (Oxford); Susan Rice (Stanford, Oxford), and President Obama (Harvard and Columbia) could be so nearly 100-percent wrong?"

 I took one undergraduate course in International Law and almost failed that, and yet I share Michael's overwhelming record of accurate predictions compared to our "exquisitely educated betters and their media acolytes". It is of only minor psychological interest whether they believe their own lies. For the most part, they know exactly what they are doing and the results are fully foreseeable and intended. It is Arson on a tremendous scale, and not a backfire to burn itself out, but meant to spread to Africa and beyond, with the end to eliminate any "inconvenient" (not suitable for tax-farming) populations. It seems impossible to stop without Divine interference, and it's my understanding He tried a couple of times already without much immediate result. All we can do is hope we're out of the tent when the clowns burn the whole circus down.

Transcontinental Meditation - Evidence of Weakness?

Let's you and him fight!

I might be a reactionary, but as far as religion goes I'm afraid (almost literally) that the doctrine of selection or ideas of pre-ordained, select souls that are destined to success in this world, and the next, may be true. That in fact worldly success was proof of being "saved". How else to explain the eternally baffling why/how some people are golden and untouchable*, unless as favored by some terrible and perverse unknowable deity? You might think this is funny if you knew what a slacker I am, and many people are their own worst enemy, but it's world wide and history deep - the shit always rises. I don't think I can ever stop resenting what is evidently unalterable reality. I even want to resent it, but the non-religious explanation, that the strong and ruthless will always prevail, is almost equally unacceptable, and either would suggest that resistance is futile.

One of my biggest takeaways from Carlyle, was that political history is very continuous and deeper than wars, revolutions, genocides, etc., which seems almost like mere noise and drama compared to the steady unchanging nature of man to breed, plant, build, and trade, while being continually harassed, threatened, robbed, enslaved etc. by their superiors, who are treated similarly, but sometimes more gently, by theirs. Carlyle was miffed, 150 years ago, because the worst had risen, by sham of democracy and reform, to replace the natural order of rule by a true elite, under God (for him a necessary pairing, logically, if the elite were not "elect", they would not be "true"). The only difference with today's situation is we can only know that the elite is not true, but have no real explanation beyond the lengthy indictment of facts and allegations. They obviously suck, yet somehow never suffer any temporal punishment beyond the occasional fine.

At least Caryle could be content that sins would be eventually paid and justice rendered. What do we have? Resentment, ridicule and occasional schadenfreude (my favorite!), and a dim hope that more people can get their personal lives in order and leave the other peasants alone while the "nobles" fight it out. Despite the endless discussions, we don't seem to have evolved much, and maybe worse, the standards of conduct seem to be getting lower as the firepower increases. Please fasten your seat belts and put your trays in the upright position. Note the location of emergency exits (if any).

PM update; from commenter Radical Marijuana on Zero Hedge

"Basically what has happened is the human ecology has bifurcated into a relatively small minority that acted like Vicious Wolves, and a much larger majority that acted like Zombie Sheeple. The Wolves have taught the Sheeple to bleat their morality. The majority of people are constantly told that everyone needs to be better Sheeple. The reality is that the actual systems are run by the Wolves, and the only good solutions are for everyone to become better Wolves. ...
None of the other economic problems could ever be resolved better without that quantum leap to understand evolutionary ecology better. Blaming the lying politicians, or the public that is tricked by them, is way too superficial, although it is partially correct. The greater TRUTH is profoundly paradoxical, since it requires understanding how and why warfare was the oldest and best developed social science, and therefore, understanding the psychology of the various actors within that system."





* I like this guy Israel Shamir.  International man of mystery

Why this Redneck will Always Honor Dr. King

Beyond Vietnam -- A Time to Break Silence

Delivered 4 April 1967, Riverside Church, New York City

"And some of us who have already begun to break the silence of the night have found that the calling to speak is often a vocation of agony, but we must speak. We must speak with all the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision, but we must speak. And we must rejoice as well, for surely this is the first time in our nation's history that a significant number of its religious leaders have chosen to move beyond the prophesying of smooth patriotism to the high grounds of a firm dissent based upon the mandates of conscience and the reading of history. Perhaps a new spirit is rising among us. If it is, let us trace its movements and pray that our own inner being may be sensitive to its guidance, for we are deeply in need of a new way beyond the darkness that seems so close around us."


I was 17 when he gave this speech and almost completely oblivious to the civil rights struggle. Although I had lived in the deep south when my dad was in the Army it was as remote from my suburban world as was Africa, or indeed, Washington D.C. (We used to joke in Arlington that the Potomac was the widest river in the world...) and poverty was only something my parents recalled from the thirties. I'm sure Dr. King's concern for young white suburban jerks was almost as remote, but his reaching out beyond his world caught me up and showed me for the first time the distance between what I had been taught, in school and in church, and the reality of America in the world. Vietnam chewed up a lot of my cohort and would have taken many more without Dr. King. Talk about standing athwart history and yelling "Stop!"

I am more embarrassed than ashamed of the casual racism of my youth, because I know it was out of ignorance, and I do know the difference between that and real hatred that I would come to see later. I always detested sports, but one of my first  heros was Muhammed Ali, who put into words ("I ain't got no quarrel with them Viet Congs") that even I could grasp, what Dr. King was saying so eloquently that was lost my younger self. Later I would learn about Paul Robeson's lonely struggle against the hidden side of the world I took for granted, and Malcolm X speaking reality to black men, but really to all men who want to be truly free. Everyone owes thanks to the brave men and women of the Civil Rights Movement. Like it or not, fellow crackers,  Black History IS American History.

"I Was Born a Snake-Handler, and I'll Likely Die One"

My very adult daughter, wished me a happy Santa's Birthday, and asked when I had lost my faith in what she calls witchcraft, and knowing I was Catholic wondered had I ever been an alter boy. When I was about fifteen, I "played" an alter boy in a special service at a girl's school in Potomac. The priest was a friend of my fathers, an Army champlain, and didn't admonish me for not having the slightest idea of what I was supposed to be doing, That's really all I remember about it: I screwed it up and wasn't embarrassed, and I was perpetually embarrassed at that age. I thought I felt the "spirit" at my first communion, when I was six, and nothing thereafter, but this is at least partially because I lack imagination. When I was eight, I permanently damaged something in there, trying to understand spatial and temporal infinity, simultaneously (never mind omniscience) . In any case, religion became just another one of those meaningless things like school assemblies, only I wasn't paying attention, couldn't see what was going on and what I could hear was in Latin for another layer of incomprehension. 

Two good thing about Catholicism, though. First,  they don't want or try to get into your head, they just lay out their gibberish and if you don't ask questions or cause trouble, everybody gets along. Prots assume you are an idiot and probably a degenerate of some sort, so they want to scare and convince you hell is really real. I went to catholic school for grades 1-3 and truly feared nuns, but not enough to believe their scary stories. Never trusted Priests or Scoutmasters (or any kind of school counselor or official of any type), but I do think most other people would benefit from coordinating with such types. Secondly, Catholics have an element of mysticism beyond the normal, and just say it's too complicated to understand, and to just trust them, which should immediately bury the needle on anybody's bullshit detector, so you kind of think it must be a scam you have to let yourself in on, or some kind of inside joke. I didn't say anything, but from about the age of twelve, I was rejecting all spooky stuff and going along with the rituals, and saving my energy for fighting the important battles, like how long my hair was. Another young schmuck. Sartre with zits...

I try to be consistent in ignoring irrational things, though - ghosts, saints, miracles, vampires, "feelings", intuition, "luck", etc. It's very liberating, really, like not wearing underwear (for guys). I do pray though, when I go to bed and I mentally talk to the regular Judeo-Christian god, and ask him to bless everybody I can think of, but this is just really force of early habit. I'm really taking up Pascal's wager, even though I'm satisfied it has been disproved, plus I just think my prayers rather than actual vocalize them, figuring if he can hear everybody he might as well have our brains bugged as well. If the channels open, might as well use it. I think this could be called voodoo, and I also like pantheism and sometimes "think" the fug's chant to raise the pentagon and beam cosmic hate vibes at DC. I have to admit I don't really believe in it though, as it isn't working (yet).

Lately, I've been routed back to Judaism, routed back because some years ago, I wondered if a goy could "join up", but this is in some dispute (The more I read about Torah the more intrigued I become). For some years I've been jokingly telling people I'm Jewish (Reform) from Thanksgiving through New Years, but the more I see the more I like, although I'm interested in all Orthodox (Eastern and Amish/Old Order), just on the basis of internal consistency of doctrine, not that I think the invisible dimensions exist or whatever; Extremely interesting gibberish? So I was googling "A Serious Man" to see if someone had predigested something I wondered about (Specifically, what did the beginning Shetl part have to do with the rest of the movie, if you've seen it maybe) and came across a discussion about B'nai Noach, "People of Noah" or something, that there are Seven Torah commandments that one could follow to be "Righteous Gentiles" or essentially almost jews. The cool thing for me though was to be "righteous" you had to actually believe in the Hebrew God, but if you followed the commandments merely because you thought they were good laws (that is, without the mystic elements", you would be accepted as a "Wise Gentile". High praise, indeed, and good enough for me. So I'm looking into that...

When anyone asks I tell them I'm a Branch Davidian, and that's usually the end of it. If I had to pick a god, I would (and do) go with R.E.Howard's Crom, made up, but most credible back story; He created the universe and man, but lost interest in his insignificant creation. When wished a merry Christmas, I sometimes smartass back with Happy Solstice, Christian. So, now I'm an older schmuck, still ignorant, but unironically begging supplication from an imaginary god, and Jesus died for this? 

"D'Oh!", he might well say.

Merry Christmas, anyway!

Danny the Car-Wiper is on the Nod

I've always disliked Christmas, but in the last couple of years it seems like every twinkling light and jolly shopper is like a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, every gayly wrapped package a reminder that no one really grows up, every shriek of delight and surprise a passive-aggressive assertion that all's well with the modern world and that Jesus didn't die in vain. Fed up, bloated with existential figgy pudding and heavy gravey, the stupidity and waste piling up like dead Asian catfish on a frozen Chicago beach, I want to spew the contents of ten thousand dead albatross chick-guts on the National Christmas Tree and fill every stocking with 'Cong ears and bandages from limbless Iraqi orphans.

Then, New-Years, the celebration of mindless drunken revelry, the passing and heraldry of another year of death-based consumption as Americans waddle into the future, fat, dumb and happy as cannibalistic chimps on a full moon, unknowing and uncaring of anything beyond what they can eat or fuck or stuff in their pockets. "On Dasher, on Dancer, Comet and Vixen", a turd down every chimney and a rotting corpse under every tree. Let the ball descend on cleaned-up Times Square squares and Williamsburg hipsters celebrating another trip around the old tired sun, while we Surge into another unenlightened Afgan pass; down through all eternity, the whining of humanity, a big mac in one hand and M-16 in the other. Thank god for Burroughs.

Merry Xmas to all, and to all a "Good Night!"

(Cross-posted on my team blog "No Short Counts"

Mr. Peabody Helps Jesus Save Capitalism

"Put down that beaker of Ephadadrine, Sherman, and follow me to the WABAC Machine. Jesus needs our help!"

"But, Mr. Peabody, I think I've found a way to pay our electric bill.  And then some!"

"Never mind, my boy. Thanks to the miracle of time travel, we'll be back literally before you know it."

"Very well, Mr. Peabody. What settings shall I use?"

"Naples, Italy; Jan.25, 1962."

"But Jesus wasn't in Naples in 1962."

"Don't be so sure, Sherman, but in any case we're going to visit one Charles Luciano.  He's ill and may be more inclined to the truth than previously.  I need some information about the olive oil business and Prescott Bush."

" 'Lucky' Luciano, the heroin king? Olive oil? Prescott Bush? Mr. Peabody, I believe I've found the answer to that missing case of Bronkaid!"

"Never mind that now, Sherman, just set the dials and initialize.  Besides you know how my asthma has been acting up lately."

"Well, here we are, Mr.Peabody.  How will we find Mr. Luciano?"

"Quite simple, my boy; although many of these houses have several burley watchmen at the gate, very few also have American Cadillacs with CIA agents waiting out front. Ah, here we are! Signor Luciano?"

"Si?"

"I'm Mr. Peabody, and this is my boy, Sherman. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Ha, you and everyone else! Hey, I've seen you on TV! You're a funny guy. 'Chicken-catch-a- Tory'! Haha! C'mon in!"

"What did you find out, Mr.Peabody?"

"Never mind, for now, Sherman, we need to move on. Set the WABAC for Florence, Italy, June 20, 1527.  We're going to see the great Niccolo Machiavelli."

"Gee, do we have to go right now? The girls here are so friendly!"

"Sorry,  Sherman, but even though we've got all the time in the world, paradoxically we're in a bit of a hurry right now.  Those bills aren't going to pay themselves, and you can always come back 'later'."

"Okay, Mr. Peabody. Hang on! Not the leg! Bad boy!"

"Sorry, Sherman. As you know I sometimes forget my manners when the quarry is afoot."

"Here we are. Florence.  How will we find Signor Machiavelli?"

"As you can imagine, this place is crawling with paranoids, but "Lucky" showed me the secret hand signal. You'll have to give it, though. What with my paws and all.  Here's a picture."

"Gosh, that's the same as the Dogtown Crips! See, LA roxx! It's funny that they all use the same sign. What a coincidence!"

"A coincidence, to be sure. There's a likely-looking ghoul. Try it out."

"Is that the right counter-sign, Mr. Peabody? Like he's stroking his beard. Which he doesn't have."

"No, but we'll probably see it a lot.  Try that guy."

"Yo! Yo. Whazzup?"

"Nicollo Machiavelli?"

"Who want's to know?"

"I'm Mr. Peabody and this is my boy, Sherman. I need to ask you some questions about "olive oil".

"Walk with me. Leave the kid."

"What did you find out, Mr. Peabody?"

"Patience, my boy.  For now, set the WABAC to Tel-Aviv, June 9, 25."

"But there was no Tel-Aviv, or for that matter, June in 25, Mr. Peabody."

"Sherman..."

"Shutting up, now.  Here we go!"

"Wow, look at those dinks! Looks like San Francisco in '67."

"How do you know? Our series ended in '64."

"I meant 1667, but I did look around when we were in  syndication.  Ever heard of the Cockettes? the Fugs? What a stink! Man, when did they invent deodorant?"

"Just start flashing the sign, my boy. There's a likely-looking pair."

"I see you are a sailor. Step into my tent and all will be revealed."

"Pardon me, sir, it's far from my mind. I'm just looking for a good friend of mine. Calls himself Jesus, among other things.  He's mc'ing a wedding party. Five wise virgins...five foolish. Ring a bell?"

"Yes, I know him! Follow me. And all will be revealed"

"Wait here, Sherman, and keep those kids out of the WABAC."

"How did it go, Mr.Peabody? Did you see Jesus?"

"Just for a second, he said he was headed out to the desert to be tempted.  He winked at me. He didn't seem to be surprised to see a talking dog; evidently there's a lot of that around here.  I saw the other rabbis, though; straightened them out.  If they listen to me, no more oil problem, no cruxifiction, no fall of Jerusalem, no diaspora, no crusades, no dark ages, etc."

"But all those things happened, Mr. Peabody!"

"We can but try, my boy."

"What did you tell them, Mr. Peabody? About the oil?"

"Well, as you may know, the five wise virgins had enough lamp oil to last for the entire feast, but the five foolish virgins were short by varying amounts.  'Lucky' told me the thing about olive oil is that it can be all different quality as well as quantity and needs to be mixed right to burn right.  Of course, he was talking about "olive oil", but the same principle applies; to make everybody a winner you got to give a little to get a little, and you always want to have another wise virgin around.  I got that from Niccollo.  Smart cookie, knows human nature. Even Rabbi Paulson got it, I think."

"But, I don't get it, Mr. Peabody.  How does another Virgin solve anything?"

"Sherman, do you mean you've never heard of Extra Virgin Olive Oil?"