Chapter XXIV The Taming of The Jafo
"Phee ? Finally a descheissive move by our Leadershit!" mumbled Jafo
through the decrepit edifice of what had been his face, bits of which
tumbled to the rug beneath his Jeff Gannon "love-sheet", or love seat,
in English.
Tricky language, English, when half your face is burnt to a crisp by
..... well, by anything from The Pervert having firebombed you in the
cradle, to falling asleep while the Spankpipe was still smoldering as
hotly as your cheeks from another Republican electoral loss in need of
total cover-up.
"What do you mean, Dirty Uncle Jafo?" inquired Stain de STD, feeling as
though his water might break at any moment, which it might.
"I'm mean..." began Jafo, painfully reassembling his face from the
jigsaw fragments strewn around the floor, "I mean, *I mean*, that ish,
she Adminshit-raytheon hash acted againshit the Poor!"
"Oh, that," bumbled The Pervert, "I'm sure there were greater minds
than even my own at work behind this decision which should, with any
measure of good fortune for The Rich as well as those who truly believe
in The Rapture, lead to rioting and gang warfare in the streets of Los
Angeles in no time, flat!"
They were referring to reports in the L.A. Times that more draconian
and prejudicial measures than ever before were to be enacted in
depriving the economy of the last bit of juice most of it needed to
survive while diverting as much loose taxpayer change into the black
pockets of Lockheed-Martin as inhumanly possible.
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-budget25nov25,0,1437158.story?coll=la-home-headlines
It had come down to this. Them reading the newspaper ? Yep, that,
even.
Anything to take their minds off the humiliation they'd suffered the
previous day, attempting to crash a party that just wasn't there. Not
at the Bilkmore, as foretold. They'd shown up there, invitation in
hand and all sorts of excuses and fake I.D.s at the ready, whereas the
Grand Old Party for which they'd spent hours getting suitably attired
and emotional had been relocated to Bohemian Grove.
Their personal disappointment could be summed up in a few paragraphs
describing Spanked-out neo con freaks in the most obscene of drag
costumes showing up at the wrong place for a good time that wasn't to
be had, at that time, or place.
And what do neocons do when confronted with their personal failings ?
They bully and wreak havoc upon the nearest victims they can lay hands
on, whom they deem least capable of physical resistance.
They'd been doing this since WWII :
In examining the potential of a general collapse of dietary and
hygienic stability on the Japanese home front, the OSS report "the
bulk of the Japanese population lives on the ragged edge of dietary
deficiency." It was, therefore, recommended that "the susceptibility
of Japanese men of military age, especially under the strain of active
warfare, to [beriberi] should be exploited to the full." Even more
deaths by malnutrition could be inflicted by making "a continuing and
concerted effort to sink every enemy fishing boat that is sighted."
Finally, the OSS report contemplated destroying the Japanese rice
supply, observing that next to eliminating access to fish,
"equally important would be a planned attack on our opponent's rice
supplies. Since stored rice tends to lose much of its Vitamin B the
Japanese cannot readily build up large reserves, so that our energies
should be directed towards the object of destroying growing crops that
are about to mature. Furthermore, it would be more rewarding if rice
fields in Japan proper were attacked whenever possible as this would
force the enemy to rely more and more on imported rice, thus adding
materially to his increasing shipping problems.
"Several procedures for interfering with rice production may be
suggested. Concentrations of rice fields might be subjected to
bombing, particularly with missiles that spread laterally and tear up
a good deal of ground; irrigating devices should be consistently
destroyed; the acid concentration best suited to growing rice plants
should be chemically upset whenever possible; and the introduction of
rice-destroying diseases should be seriously considered."
[ source: http://counterpunch.org/price11252005.html ]
So why should WWW, under Genocidal Fruitcake Bush II, be any different
?
Stain clutched his abdomen, expectantly. The baby was kicking like a
hit of Spankodin that went down the wrong hole. Which in a way, it
was.
"Does this mean, I'm not covered...?" monologued Stain most piteously.
"Inasmuch as you are a deadbeat mom-to-be, I think the answer to your
question is a resounding Maybe!" thundered The Pervert, between
flatulent eruptions that made his words less than fully audible to the
assembled throng.
"Wha-at?!" croaked Stain, feeling the lips of his ***** auto-distend to
facilitate the imminent foul birth of yet another Republican. Boy, if
this one was as ugly as Stain, its mother, then if there is a god, pray
let him arrange things so that it can afford a full-sized face mask,
but no internet connection, if not - we are after all humanists here -
strangulation on its own rectal umbilical cord.
Dirty Uncle Jafo, or the cinders thereof, beamed toothily through the
decrepit burnt mess of his former face, enthralled in that "I am your
father" moment each and every Darth Vader fan ever has conjured up as
THE moment both stwpid and yet at the same time - potentially at least
- comfortingly redemptive, to end all moments.
That is, if The Rapture doesn't come first. As usual.
"Bring me a bowl of lukewarm water..." spluttered the Dirty Uncle, his
hands already poised to massage the buttery "nucular" anal labia and
wormy testicles of Stain.
<to be continued>
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