Month: May 2021

Both the Los Angeles surf contingent and the Texas cowboy contingent have known this for some time, but I’m only now beginning to clue in on this … Mexico is — in many ways — better suited for future economic stability than the USA. Canada population growth rate is currently about 0.9, they would normally be in a bad spot, but they control about one quarter of the world’s freshwater, and a smiling and willing victim with the USA to dump all their toxic waste. (We call Canadian toxic waste a “jobs opportunity.”) Waste from oil, gas, geothermal, agriculture, whatever you got Canada, just tend us a Telex and we’ll give you the best prices in the region for dumping the stuff you don’t want to contaminate your pristine and beautiful land.

So I think Canada will be okay, but the USA, we spend our money as fast as we make it, it’s the American way, and a lack of Mexican and Central Americans will leave us in a bit of a pickle. We can try to entice Africans to move here, maybe some South Americans, but there is a lot of cultural complexity to doing this. Mexico works well with the USA because so much of the USA is historically Mexico, they were here before we were. And they have a culture that is as ancient and in many ways less molested than China’s culture. They know what they’re doing.

The thing about population inversion, it happens fast and we can’t say “we’ll deal with that shit later.” We have to get ahead of it now. So these are our two obvious options …

1. Do a Logan’s Run type scenario where Baby Boomers and Millennials (there aren’t enough of us Gen-Xers to bother) get on a floating carousel and then float toward the top of the arena, where a laser beam zaps them into a Utopia where they will never need to leave their homes, and everything comes delivered to them by the Afterlife Amazon. If necessary, we can replicate this process genetically somehow, maybe with some weird human-chimera genetic engineering that can only be cured by yet more human-chimera genetic engineering.
   
2. Replace the USA-Mexico border with a strategic and defensible line of picnic tables and food kiosks on our side of the border, from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific. Simultaneously, Mexico can build a similarly-spaced line of strategic and defensible food kiosks and picnice tables on their side of the border. Once both are in place, we would then be able to remove the antiquated border wall, and replace it with the only so-far proven undefeatable warrior juggernaut, which has protected the region since the days of Tenochtitlan, also known as The Unstoppable Five; Fish Tacos, Ceviche, Carne Asada, Ricos and Frijoles, and a secondary tribute to the Rio Grande, the New River of Cantaritos, delivered by little clay pots of deliciousness to each of those occupied tables.

I prefer the second option. We really can’t risk plugging up the Amazon Afterlife with too many Boomers and their Progeny, given that Amazon already nearly owns our U.S. Postal Service.

So with the second option, that would open up a world of opportunities for United Impoverished States of America. Once we’re on the border, we can use it as a kind of jobs hub … shmooze a bit over the fish tacos, see if anyone in Mexico City has any day gigs for an out-of-work hedge fund manager, or a project management specialist. Once we can get some Americans into Mexico, they’ll be able to send us a few pesos now and then, and we’ll be cool. We don’t need that much to survive in the USA, we can mostly live off of the Burger King Dollar Menu and just limit our defense spending to just a few trillion bucks a year.

Clark and I sat in the back booth of the High Country Lounge, I drank tequilla, he drank some kind of craft beer. There is a road crew in the bar, and that little gal that the owner hired to clean up and sing. She never sings, she seems to hate it. She draws cartoons on the back of the paper coasters. Clark is an asshole, but we’re longtime friends, I tend not to notice it. He comes off as something like the Ted Knight character from Caddyshack, deciding who has value, and who doesn’t. He’s a snob. He moved up here back about twenty years ago when he made a few hundred grand in a dot-com before the bubble broke. Now he’s a nurse. He looks at the road crew, and says “look at that mouth breather with the Amped Energy t-shirt, I hope he drowns in the shallow end of the gene pool.”

Clark is a bigot. But he doesn’t see himself as a bigot, since he only hates working class Caucasians, not Black people.

The reality here is that Clark makes his living and pays his bills off of mouth breathers like that, they tend to end up in the hospital in which he works, there are a lot of dangerous jobs at this altitude, including jobs that a person would assume wouldn’t be all that dangerous. Clark had some aspirations to become a surgeon, he thought of himself as sufficiently driven and intelligent to do it. One day he chopped off the end of his index finger while relieving the spring tension on a cocked-up reel mower with the three horse Briggs and Stratton. It gave him a good excuse to quite the pre-med program, he couldn’t hack it anyway, and he looked like an idiot in there with all those kids.

I said “Clark, you’re a bigot.” He laughs, the idea doesn’t even penetrate his skull. He sees himself as a progressive and the idea of hating rednecks gives him a kind of holy progressive aura, he sees it as a character feature.

Clark smells like Clark and anyone who shits on Americans (and even Aussies) who don’t look like you, or dress like you, or vote like you. Do you or Clark know how to run a high tension line to clean out the splices? I don’t know how to run a high tension line to clean out the splices. So therefore, my life relies on those rednecks who do, when I hit the power switch in my bedroom and tell the raccoons to climb back out the same window they just climbed in. My life relies on that redneck whom you hate, that redneck on whom Clark shits and declares that “we’re fucked” because the guy didn’t give him back the ass-kissing look of adoration, “oh thank you wise and kind healthcare provider, for granting me and my wife the ability to continue our lives in a living state, rather than as a corpse in a bag.”

The electricity that comes out of that switch and heads into that light so that I can keep from tripping over all the lingerie scattered about from whatever adventure I had found myself the night prior, that electricity is in part due to the redneck whom you hate. And maybe I don’t agree with him on his political theorems, and maybe I choose not to end my sentences in prepositions as often as he chooses, but I find a a way to find some common ground with people, and the first step in doing that is not hating the breath that comes out of his mouth.

Clark doesn’t see any problem with his hatred, because he sees it as a way to give credibility to his aura of progressivism. Clark justifies his bigotry in a way that I find remarkable, I’m incapable of believing my own lies for as long as he does. I can last maybe a few weeks, he manages to last the larger part of his life.

Maybe someday, Clark will find a way to rebuild his own transmission, or operate a backhoe to clear out a trench to run a new drain from his house. Maybe someday he will know how to operate a CNC machine, or a turret lathe. And when he learns all the things he needs to do to create a functional, vibrant economy, then he can go ahead and hate all the rednecks. But until that day, he’s a prisoner of his own deficiencies. And in reality, that redneck can survive a whole bit better than Clark if the shit hits the fan and our economy plummets down the same well into which they threw the Jews, Armenians, Chechnyans, Sufis and All Black Fans. Because that redneck can keep a truck running, can rig up water filtration, can fix a roof, can deal psychedelic mushrooms for a few weeks to keep food on the table, can keep his wife sober, keep his daughter in nursing school, and keep his son out of prison. These people that Clark hates will end up saving our collectives asses someday soon … and on that day, we will no longer hate the rednecks. But then the day after we will hate them as usual, because we’re powerless, ineffectual and weak, and the rednecks remind us of that in a way that we don’t want to be reminded.

Clark will likely never understand that the mouth breathing voter who keeps the sanitation plant running, saves just as many lives as he does, because a lot of healthcare providers think of themselves as gods who hold the ability to grant life, and when they fuck up, it’s just part of the job. Almost none of those quarter million Americans and two thousand Aussies who die every year due to hospital error will have the words “hospital fuckup” stamped on their death certificate. It will stay something with words like “cardiac” and “respiratory” and “complications” and so forth, because dead people can accept the blame for their death a lot easier than healthcare workers who see themselves as infallible instruments of divine protection. How could Clark ever see himself as a normal human when he is legally protected from fucking up and killing someone?

But you will get this, I hope … this is an American shitfight. You have no idea what’s really involved here because as much as I like to joke otherwise, vast chunks of the rest of the planet solved their class problem a long time ago. That’s part of the reason they hate tall poppies and sit in the front seat of the taxi and influence Yanks to get in the front seat of the taxi after they live in Oz for a few years, and call each other “mate.” They do those things because they partly solved their class problems. Yeah, there are still a few random Pommy fucks who give Aussies a bad name, but you lot know how to laugh and kick the fucking tin, bitch. We haven’t solved that problem here yet. Our economy relies on an unspoken hatred of the “underclasses.”

Our economy relies a pronounced and undeniable polarization of people. Back in the day, we hated the British. That worked well enough for us to get away from them and build the most powerful country on the face of the planet. And then we hated the Indians. We killed as many as we could, but then we found out they were actually a whole lot tougher than any of us imagined they would be, and a whole lot more ruthless and intelligent than we could possibly be, so we found a way to make peace with them. So then we saw all these slaves that we kidnapped from Africa, and we were like “what good slaves, we need to find someone new to hate.” So we hated Mexicans, Chinese and even Australians for a bit, but then before we knew it, the slaves were no longer slaves. They were an underclass that threatened our ability to build the kind of wealth, power and future that we wanted to build. All of a sudden, our vision for a Caucasian utopia evaporated when we realized that our women wanted to fuck the Black dudes, and that these Africans were stronger, smarter and more cunning than we could ever be, with out pasty European weakness. So we then decided to hate the Black men and rape the Black women. And it was a glorious love-affair with hatred. We hated the slaves and the children of slaves and the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of slaves as long as we could, and it brought us wealth, that hatred. For a few years, we even found that we could beat the Nazis by taking a page from their book and rounding up the Japanese Americans and putting them into concentration camps … we hated them really well for a while. But after the war was over we said to ourselves “So where were we? Ah yes, torturing Black people. Black people, please come here, we’re going to accuse you of crimes that you didn’t commit and turn you back into slaves, and we’re going to accuse you of murders you didn’t commit and execute you, just in case those Azteks were onto something with sacrificing their virgins to the volcano gods and we need to sacrifice George Stinny to the electric chair, then perhaps the economy gods will take mercy on us and bring us wealth, power and the utopian future that we want to build.”

Yeah, that’s right, we executed a fourteen year old boy by putting him into an electric chair that was too big to kill him without an unimaginable amount of pain to the boy. And sure, it turns out he had nothing to do with the murder, but it wasn’t really about justice, it was about the gosh-durn volcano gods, and hey it must have worked, killing that boy, because no volcanoes erupted that year, and we pretty much had World War Two beat.

We hated the descendants of the slaves for a good while longer, and it made us wealthy and happy, and we didn’t feel too bad, because we were polite in our hatred, we talked about “giving them a chance for success” and “giving them a decent education” and “giving them a chance at a future.” But ultimately, we didn’t want to live next to them, and if we considered ourselves to be a better class of person than our fellow human, then we didn’t want to come in contact with their body fluids, we didn’t want to inhale their smell, because as Orwell wrote about this unique brand of comforting hatred; “the lower classes smell.”

We didn’t really have the luxury of an actual lower class in the USA, being a nation of mongrels, so it was simple enough to hate the descendants of slaves. And that brought us straight in the 1960s, and we killed as many as we could, but then we found out they were actually a whole lot tougher than any of us imagined they would be, and a whole lot more ruthless and intelligent than we could possibly be, so we spent a few decades getting used to their body fluids, and most of us found a way to make peace with them.

But the elites needed to replace their hatred with something new, and by that time they finally figured out how the British manage to maintain their snobbery for the lower classes and those who “drop their aitches.” That’s when polite society found they could hate the rednecks. And not all rednecks, because there are just as many Black rednecks, Mexican rednecks, Jewish rednecks, Asian rednecks, Native rednecks, and Mormon rednecks. But in this case, they found that restricting their hatred of rednecks to a specific kind of redneck. It worked, it’s the new socially-acceptable hatred. And Clark wants to see his fellow human “drown in the shallow end of the gene pool” because he is a bigot … a bigot who listens to Public Radio, who donates to the limit of his tax deduction to his favorite causes, and yes, even a bigot who allows a robot to drive his car, but a bigot nonetheless.

Nobody knows this stuff. Least of all us.

But genetic work is a different animal. When we get the data from Wuhan, we’ll know. It’s traceable. We have genetic signatures that might as well be as accurate a a satellite roadmap of what exactly went down. And in that case, we’ll know.

Now, that cop that accidentally grabbed the gun instead of the Taser. His career is over, it probably should be, he killed someone. But what about someone that kills 3.5 million people out of a perfectly honest mistake? Should they lose their job?

What about when someone willingly falsifies documents that lead to deaths? Lose their job? Go to prison?

In this case, for the last year, the Planet Earth was operating under the assumption that COVID-19 was something that Mother Nature made. And in this era, with good medical treatment, Mother Nature isn’t really a wanton murderer. A few thousand people here, maybe a hundred thousand people from a Tsunami? But to kill en masse, like COVID-19 does, it takes things like bad sanitation that causes diarrhea or cholera. Human made shit, literally. Malaria from improper dainages, diabetes from too much sugar, air pollution … human made shit, figuratively.

The point here, the salient point is that we were an affected band of asswagons. We’re now in this position which terrifies us kind of people who change the station from our ironic listening of the Christian station to NPR, lest the parking lot attendant not realize that we were listening to the Christian station ironically. All of a sudden, we band of nitwits are going to have to start to examine the “truths” we think you know, piecemeal, like scientists … at least good scientists. And like judges, juries, voters, and engineers that have to do forensic research on a bridge that falls into a river, or forensic work on a lab release genetically-modified, synthetic protein cleavage site, human-chimera, tested on a mouse with humanized mother fucking genes, coronavirus.

Appointed Federal Officers and awarded grant recipients were being paid by our tax dollars. Federal officers signed off on this research, checks were paid. And all through that long line of Americans, nobody was able to poke their head above the insanty, and say, “hey, is this right?”

But you know who did poke his head up? President Obama. And now it seems, President Biden. As far as I can tell, the voice of ration and respect for the miracles of Mother Nature is fighting back against these monstrosities, that seek to gain a function over a hypothetical release from Mother Nature, and instead create something that Mother Nature couldn’t dream in her worse nightmare fueled by half a bottle of red wine, two bumps of coke off her lovely manicured fingernail with the brown nail polish, just like the Policeman’s muse in Bonfire of the Vanities. And also a white wine spritzer, four cigarettes that we shared in the ally behind Bill’s High Country Lounge. A shot of the same tequila that I had, and some kind of antidpressant that her doctor prescribed so she wouldn’t have to wake up in agony each morning because of the child she accidentally killed when she fucked up on that surgery that she had done 23 times previously without a hitch. She’s one of those surgeons that internalizes her failures because she never learned how to lie to herself. And those are the ingredients that fueled her nightmare of some crazy genetically-engineered coronavirus that was optimized with a synthetic protein cleavage that even now is killing people in India.

So what do we do? Do we toss these recipients and officers in jail? It wouldn’t help. We don’t put rich people in prison in the USA because they are not guilty of the crime of being poor. Do we put them in front of Congress? Yup. Do we bring them a coffee and a danish, and thank them for attending? Hell fucking no. We do that for poor people and Black people and poor Black people because we know full well that they are going to be sucked into our legal justice system for a few years. But the people who did this? They know that they might lose their job, but they know they’re not going to see any prison time. They know they’re not going to see the inside of a courtroom filled with poor people and psychopaths and addicts. So no, they don’t get a coffee and a danish, they have to buy that themselves in the lobby of Forrestal before they descend into the the Kafkan wonder of that building, and then answer some questions along the line of “what the actual fuck, man?” Injecting humanized genes into mice to test these engineered virions? Making Human-Chimera genes just in case Mother Nature decides to attack us?

Part of the reason we did that research in China was a trust-building move with the Chinese research community, but part of it was also because China has a deep bench in cell biology. But I can only imagine what the Chinese felt when they saw what we were doing with those genes. I mean, yeah, they’re not Native Americans who believe in the sanctity of the natural structure from the Great Spirit, and the human obligation to safeguard Mother Nature from our fellow humans who don’t respect her as we do. But they’re still Chinese. They’re an ancient culture. Nearly as ancient as us. There is no way that Mao surgically removed the Chinese respect for nature. There has to be a good bit left, behind all that air pollutiona and rare earth mining effluent. These Americans tell them to splice this to that, and that to this, and make the gene do this so that it will enter that better than this. Like a game of genetic Minecraft … like the wet dream of a some demented fifth grader who has never had to worry if someone loved him.

The reality is that we need someone to refocus the NIH. This isn’t it. Deep apologies Fauci, but even if they find that bat that boned that pangolin tomorrow, shit is still fucked up. This isn’t medicine. It’s not humanitarianism. It’s not even really research, because it kills too many of the researchers. It’s a sign of an NIH that may have lost its direction a bit. We got so desperate to find the next big thing that we forgot to look at the pile of dogshit in the center of the room … diabetes, asthma, depression, suicide, lungs that collapse under the weight of 4,000 parts per million particulate in the regime above the Kelvin barrier that currently kills some five million people a year. If NIH sees the need to spend tax dollars on mice that have been granted humanized DNA, then they can go play their weird ass Frankenstein games after children stop dying of lungs clogged with infection, soot and vape. After they figure out a way to work with the EPA and both DOEs, DOI, FHA, HUD, and the rest, to put those salaries to the public good, in ways that assume every American has equal value, and that value is equal to every person in the world, even the child of a hotel worker in Haiti. If we have the money to build robotic flying attack planes, then we have the money to apply equity to all lives on the planet.

It’s time to take away the toys. They fucked up, they killed 3.5 milllion people, and the way things are going in India, and may soon go in the Southern Hemisphere, we might hit a 4 million. We have other tools to fight these diseases, we don’t need to use genetically-modied vectors. We have nutrition. We have sanitation, we have water chlorination, and we have feedback mechanisms in our hospitals. We don’t need gain of function because there is nothing on the horizon that is worse than what we have staring us in the face. Every years, some 11 million people die around the world due to nothing more complicated than our refusal to create equity with their lives and invest in their futures with clean air, clean water and clean soils.

But gain of function was supposed to be the thing that prevented rich people from dying. Cause we sure as fuck didn’t care about poor people dying. Gain of function was to protect the lives of the well-to-do people and then look what happened? An equal-opportunity virus. Rich, poor, it didn’t give a shit. So now, the rich people will have to accept that their lives are demonstrably worth the same as their employees, and their employees’ children in Guatemala. It took 3.5 million lives for us to learn this lesson. If we would have protected the lives of the poor as much as we protected the lives our family out in the Hamptons, maybe Aunt Tilly would still be on this side of the grass.

But none of that matters too much right now sisters and bothers. Because Mannana? Mannana Sol …

You should come to the USA for a week or two to observe. You might understand it then Perhaps you can’t see it in Oz because you’re too close to the culture there.

Here’s the thing man … in the USA, it’s rare that someone will get into the front seat of a taxi or even a Lyft. We just don’t do it because we have residue from our British classism that we were unable to purge.

Australians get into the front seat of a taxi (or I assume a rideshare, but those were’t invented when I lived there,) they get into the front seat of the taxi for the same reason you say “hey mate, got a light?” Because Australia may not have solved its residual British classism, but Australians knew that it exists. Yes, there are some Pommy Aussies that are trying to bring back classism, but the average workaday bob-a-job Aussie harbors a kind of hereditary hatred for it. Unlike the USA, Australia was apparently far enough away from England that it couldn’t be used as a strong trading partner, the ship voyages were too long and too treacherous. So it became a dumping ground, and “farm team” of America. The British knew full well that the future of shipping was  on the horizon with stronger, faster and even steam-driven ships, they built a lot of these technologies after all, and Britain was the global leader in Western-style precision engineering and ship-building. The Germans and the Swiss controlled the guidance of these ships, but Europe seemed to converge on this idea that Britain would control the heavy lifting of the new global economy. And Australia had a future, but it’s future wasn’t then.

Yes, the English shit on everyone, they shit on the Scots, the Welsh, the Irish, Australians, the Canadians, but they had an odd kind of grudging respect for the Yanks, and in typical gentlemanly fashion, once we had our grand punch-up, we were friends again. The Treaty of Paris was in 1783, so that’s about seven from start to finish … seems like greased lightning compared to our current wars that seem to drag on for two decades like like our War against Afghanistan. They tidied that up, the USA made out like a bandit, France, Spain and Britain divvied up what was left, and the USA demonstrated what happens when you put a bunch of religious fanatics in charge of a national economy. They’re going to expand, they’re going to isolate and secure trade chains, they’ll patent revenue sources … basically, a bunch of religious fanatics with guns who are in charge of a global economy are going to do pretty much what they did in the church … they’ll privatize their gains and socialize their losses. So it wasn’t long after the Treaty of Paris that the religious fanatics with guns controlled the center swath of North America. And Britain seemed to see a rising star in their new Client-State Scam so they let us grab some of that loot, and let the USA take charge of revenue direction down through Canada (which remained Canada because they kicked the shit out of us and burned down our White House) and up from Mexico, of which we bought, stole and captured down to the Rio Grande, but we could go no further, and that part remained Mexico, because they kicked the shit out of us and then introduced us to the wonders of smoking their own special blend of hemp, and drinking their own special blend of distilled agave nectar.

So we said “Canada, Mexico, you two are okay with us. Britain and Spain gave us permission to take advantage of your economies … What’s that Mexico? You told Spain to go fuck themselves? … Uh, Canada, remember how a few moments ago we told you that Britain and and Spain gave us permission to fuck you in the ass? Well, it turns out Mexico is out of this one, so it looks like this menage-a-trois just became a manage-a-une, plus one. We’re going to overwhelm your economy wherever Britain tells us we can, since y’all are too polite to tell the Queen to go fuck herself, like they just did in Mexico. Whatever The Queen doesn’t steal from you, we’re going to steal from you, and whatever is left over, you can have that part. We have a funny feeling that in a couple hundred years when the global economy for water becomes critical, that you will become an economic superpower due to all the freshwater you have up there, but what the fuck do we know about all that? We don’t know about disinfection, the radio hasn’t been invented yet, and we still think it’s morally responsible to enslave Africans, hell we don’t even have left and right shoes yet, I mean, would you take advice about virtual water exportation from a timeline of humans who don’t have left and right shoes? Oh Canada … Oh Canada … we were speaking to you Canada, it seems you drifted off into some reverie where you were dreaming about winning a Stanley Cup, which of course you know isn’t going to happen this year with the Avs standing on head and burning up the ice, right. Pay attention Canada!”

So that whole thing happened with Canada, but Australia was like “ooy, wha’ about us, ya cunts?”

And Britain said “oh yeah, didn’t we send a bunch of Cunts down to Oz? I guess we forgot about them. Okay, we’ll just have to manage that one the old fashioned way … we’ll send down a bunch of lower-upper-middle-class managers from the trading floor at Herrods, and we’ll give them the authority to kill anyone who gives them stress and we’ll tell them something like “Now see here, Good Man! I don’t want to hear any of that rot about you missing England. You have a job to do in Australia, and you’re just a lower-upper-middle class manager from Bolton, which means you will likely never amount to anything more than a warm plate of beans for breakfast. Buck up man, take your family to Australia, and when you get down there, you will get to live like Eric Blair did when he moved to Burma, as an upper-middle-class manager from your country of God and King. You’ll have the proper help down there, with servants who will allow you to feel like a member of the actual British public. Doesn’t that sound pleasant man? Now excuse me, I have a letter from our colonies in Australia … what’s that, harumph, it seems that our colonists went and killed most of the natives, you unfortunately won’t have that proper help we promised you. You’ll have to pay some of the prisoners and their children to cook, clean and drive for you, as Tesla has still not delivered those robot cars they’ve promised us. But it will be lovely, you’ll enjoy your new life in a beautiful paradise that has everything that England has, including some extra things that you’re going to love, like deadly venomous spiders, snakes and crocodiles, also a bunch of bats for which we theorize carry some odd diseases that will jump over to humans all of a sudden in a couple hundred years because Eddie Liu is going to eat it in a wet market. Excuse me good man, I digress … You’ll love Australia, you’ll probably die down there, but you’re doing it for The Queen and her kittens.”

Unlike in the USA, there just wasn’t a lot of opportunity to enslave humans that gentlemen and gentlewomen could feel like proper members of a proper society that can only feel that way while destroying their lives and futures of our fellow human beings. So the takeaway here is that the USA could continue a cut-rate version of British stuffy-pants snobbery, and Australia couldn’t. Australia had no choice but to do away with classism because classism was incompatible with the life down there. Much the same thing happened in the USA when people moved out West. Suddenly it was a lawless territory and any slaves that the Easterners brought West would either escape or outright rebel. So it was like legal weed is now, but with Africans deciding that they could fight back, and a life sufficiently difficult that money meant less than ability.

Or course even now, some Pommie influence has crept back into Oz, and there are people who cling to their snobbery, who treasure their snobbishness. Orwell described it better than I can, in Road to Wigan Pier;

A shabby genteel family is in much the same position as a family of ‘poor whites’ living in a street where everyone else is a Negro. In such circumstances you have got to cling to your gentility because it is the only thing you have; and meanwhile you are hated for your stuck-up-ness and for the accent and manners which stamp you as one of the boss class.

But we had a lot more of it in the USA than Australia ever had, and our rapidly expanding economy after WWII launched a generation of well-healed, essentially spoiled-rotten Baby Boomers who have from their birth to this point, received most everything they have ever desired, because it was their birthright from the Post WWII American Way. At this point, the USA has one of the greatest concentration of classist snobs that the Planet has ever seen, and in fact, might ever see. History will remember the planet for these touchstones; the Aztecs threw virgins into volcanoes and the jaws of drug cartels, the Ancient Romans threw those with a streak of independence to the lions, and the Americans threw those of hungry bellies and empty pockets to the snapping jaws of The Great American Snob. 

So here’s the deal man … you want to know why. The why is because The Great American Snob, they — WE — can’t enslave Africans anymore. The government told us we can’t do that anymore. But we have an unexplainable need to think of ourselves as better than someone in our lives. It’s in our DNA, though it isn’t clear yet if this will remain after the genetically-engineered COVID vaccine gets in there and fucks some shit up. But as for now, it’s in our DNA, this need we have to feel superior to someone, anyone, as long as it’s a human. And it can’t be an African, because they taught us in Baby Boomer school that it’s wrong to not only enslave Africans, but we also aren’t allowed to make them feel as miserable as we feel. And we aren’t allowed to hate anyone in the whole world of pain, like Arabs, or Latinos or Asians. We can’t hate homosexuals anymore, and we’re still allowed to hate Jews, as long as we call them “Israelis,” but we aren’t allowed to hate people who are only too happy to kick the shit out of us. We’re the new British after all, still under Her Majesty’s grace, but she seems to like us Yanks better than you English anyway. We pull in a lot more holla’ dolla’ bills for her than you lot.

We can’t even hate fat people anymore, unless the fat person is a man, and the person doing the hating is a woman, then it’s still allowed. But we obviously need someone to hate. So we’ll hate rednecks, they’re still fair game, because they have to work for a living and we’re not going to need them soon anyway, that now that Elon Musk has finally found a way for us to move around town without needing those rednecks to keep our cars running. We’ll supposedly still need them to drive all the trucks, but as long as they drive at night and don’t force my robot car to slow down, then they can do their thing. Ah, I just can’t say how wonderful it is to be alive and woke and progressive and be able to hate rednecks, be able to wish them death by drowning in the shallow end of the gene pool. It’s such a pleasure to be able to hate people who have to get dirt under their fingernails. It completes me as a person. My friend, you know us … atheism is just another way of saying that we don’t need to worship gods because we now know that we can worship ourselves. And people who have religion tend to read People Magazine, which is kind of weird, right? I mean, yeah, we’ll look at the cover to get an idea of what we need to look up on our Instagram and make fun of whatever basic celebrity is hawking her broken down shit. But we have henna on our feet, we can say that “boys lie” and girls go to Mars and boys get stupider, because we still have a hierarchy of hate, thank goodness. And Jews … excuse me, Israelis, rednecks, men and dads have a remarkably stellar rank on the Hierarchy of Hate. We can hate them with impunity, blame all kinds of shit on them, and they’re usually too stupid to even see what we did.

Do we care if a religion provides the death sentence for atheists and homosexuals and feminists and union activists and poets? Of course not, it’s not like were were going to live there, we just wanted to identify with their poor, sad plight for a while, which lets us vampire their sadness to use in our own lives where anti-depressants and staggering quantities of inherited wealth in Baby Boomer Nation has made actual sorrow something that we forgot how to do.

Tee hee.

We are ready with our weapons.
We are ready with out rockets.
We are ready to blow up buses.
We are ready to carry out suicide missions.

All of you 7 million Cats abroad, enough of the warming up,
You have Dogs everywhere!
We must attack every Dog on planet Earth
We must slaughter and kill them, with The Great Spirit’s help.

Oh Great Spirit, destroy the Dogs and their supporters.
Oh Great Spirit, destroy the Dogcatlanders and their supporters.
Oh Great Spirit, count them one by one, and kill them all, without leaving a single one.

Catopia is from the Sea to the River!
And we shall never, never, never recognize Dogland.

People of Catdogland, you cut off the heads of the Dogs with knives.
But from us here in Catopia, they will never get anything but guns, fire,
They will never get anything but martyrdom.
They will never get anything but death and killing.