Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Obama's West Point Speech and Karl Rove's Congratulations

I am the government's unwilling mule hit with IRS kicks and satrap whips as they drive me up through one last 13,000 foot high pass sucking the biting air in through my helpfully slit nostrils and the atrophied ass of my imagination. I bring strapped to my back explosives down at dawn into another hidden valley to the people hibernating there who when they cry out as loud as human throats can throw sounds of pain and mourning will be muffled in our angels' hierarchies.

When phosphorus bombs were raining down on Tokyo in the Good War to start a firestorm the rice farmer said to the shopkeeper don't worry friend it's only politics. Our man-designate went to West Point again this week in blackface to sing and dance the golden oldies of Al Jolson crooning my Mammy because even the great-hearted become small-minded when faced with the prospect of wild Indians all smart enough to press plastic buttons duct-taped to wires rigged to hypothetical nukes. Myths are far more potent than realities and somewhere there are people who still remember if Zeus slew Uranus or Uranus slew Zeus and super-sized are the fears that gnaw on our comfortably guilty imperial innards.

The War is homeowner's insurance for Uncle Sam and of course it's not meant to be won. The enemies don't even qualify as enemies just as tragically paid extras in gruesome comedies and when all this is gone they'll still be there and victories over cockroaches aren't possible nor do they matter. It's the victories over concepts which are key thus the wars must continue and flow into each other and death to reality as molten ores flow into the forms of shining cities on hills. The thirst for retribution remains and bring me the head of Osama bin Laden speaking of myths may he rest in peace and attentions turn to the next object of collective ire.

The speech was the past and no different speech could be given. Our way of corporation which is to say profit and self-embodiment depends upon the gray pulverized dust of the Hindu Kush so invasion is withdrawal a puppet is a nation and self-determination is occupation. As hierarchies crumble they rely increasingly on lies ably abetted by cupidity base stupidity and meanness but this is simply how it must be done and look look pay attention to the stagecraft and flourish. There's recognition behind the blackface that it can't keep going although it must keep going it will keep we are the noble experiment anointed by the hand of god. Now give us more money and if not just remember how found our embodiment is of saying well if they all hate us anyhow let's drop the big one now. Boom goes London. Boom Paree. More room for you and more room for me.

I am a little toiling mule not invited to parties by the only important party called the Property Party which has politely devolved into arms dealers drug lords and jailors. Its parliament of whores and two right wings plan to keep the poor the black the anti-imperialists and malcontents like me divided and entertained with videos of cats flushing toilets. When you're born into this world you get a ticket to the freak show just like George Carlin said and when you're born in America you get a front-row seat. A
brittle democracy's lost moral imperative may occur to us at any time our burritos are on the line and the war is on all as Bismarck said it's business by other means.

I catch artisanal bread and my wife can get us backstage to the Cirque de Soleil. I feel the ship of state's skin stretching and buckling hear John Wayne's rivets popping bulkheads bitching Elvis is gyrating history is ending and I remember when Rome was the biggest game in town and it went down because they hollowed it from the center and reneged on their veterans' pay. The Senators took their mistresses to their villas and families waiting in Spain and the south of France. They think we're easier to be played on than a pipe and their plan will work until it doesn't and when it doesn't it's going to not work in a very big way.

9 comments:

Vincent said...

Wow! you rapper, you updater of Allen Ginsberg's Howl. Astonishing and deadly eloquence.

小林 said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Zoey and Me said...

I gather you thought his speech went bust. Well, he put the cadets to sleep, maybe the Taliban took a nap too.

isabelita said...

As I read this post, the song "The Great Mandala" by Peter, Paul and Mary, which I heard recently, was going through my head. Lyrics to the effect that "It's been going on for 10,000 years", war has, and there doesn't seem to be much we can do to stop it...

MarcLord said...

Vincent,

thank you for such praise. I ripped off several sources in the post, but didn't think Ginsberg was one of them. Orwell's 'Homage to Catalonia' is in there, as are some of the singer Randy Newman's lyrics and Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall.'

The mule imagery was natural because any army there, even ours, has to use mules to haul heavy weapons up the passes in winter, and do slit the nostrils if necessary.

MarcLord said...

Z&M,

From your lips to Taliban eyelids. It wasn't the speech so much, which may as well have been given by Dubya, it was his acquiescence to something he knows is screwed. He let himself get bulldozed by the Pentagon and cynical politics.

MarcLord said...

Iz,

I've read a lot of factual criticisms, very well done, of why-n-how escalation in Af-Pak is wrong. They all fail because they're using ration on impulses which aren't rational to begin with. It's reptile brain plus modern messaging and iconography. The Great Mandala has it right.

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