| Topic: |
Religions > Atheism |
| User: |
"" |
| Date: |
28 Nov 2005 06:26:10 AM |
| Object: |
Re: Eisenhower Memorial, Eisenhower the Man. |
History convolutes itself ... on TV
Chapter XXIV The Taming of The Jafo
"Phee ? Finally a descheissive move by our Refuglickin Leadershit."
mumbled Jafo through the decrepit edifice of what had once been his
face, bits of which had tumbled right and far right onto the rug
beneath his Jeff Gannon love-sheet, or "love seat", as those with less
facial damage than Jafo say, 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 or embezzlement
scandal 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 at any time now, 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 again-***** 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
anymore.
Not at the L.A. Downtown Bilkmore, as foretold. They'd shown up there,
invitation in hand and all sorts of excuses and fake I.D.s at the ready
to turn plus-one into plus-fours, whereas the Grand Old Party for which
they'd spent hours getting suitably attired and emotional had been
relocated to Bohemian Grove.
http://www.sonomacountyfreepress.com/bohos/bohofact.html
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, ever.
Their costumes were a complete waste of time. As usual.
The Pervert had gone as Genital Electric, celebrated American war hero,
with dead babies hanging on strings off his sweaty fatigues like
Zionist trophy kills. Stain de STD aka Duly Appointed ***** had gone
as a public transport expert, with "no trains ever run on time around
here" tattooed on his fascist forehead.
Mimi had gone as a woman. DCI was to all intents and purposes, just
plain gone. Tiny Hoofed Parrot had gone as a human being. Jafo had
gone as far as he could, and could go no further without being picked
up for sheer adulterated fascism compounded with sodomy of the
underaged male population, both at home and abroad.
In that regard he was just like The Pervert, minus the (Plame it on the
Dutch) Courage to kill, kill and kill some more. Jafo had OP (Other
People) to do that for him and other priorities with which to occupy
his attention, such as packing for The Rapture.
Everybody loved Chris's Debbilicious get-up , but none of them guessed
it right.
"What are you, Looky-Loo Tookie?" had been racist Stain de STD's best
estimate.
"Heh. Try again"
"A miniature Rasta Bill Cosby?" had been The has-been Pervert's hasty
choice.
"Bzzzt. Sorry!"
"Tom Shhowell!" came in at last Dirty Uncle Jafo's almosht winning
guessh.
"Nope. Give up ? I'm ... Uncle Tom SOW-HELL!" revealed Debbil Chris.
"Thassh wha dye SHED!" protested Jafo angrily, more bits of his face
tumbling to the floor as he did so.
In the general uproar which ensued, they fought over this for a few
minutes, playful nudges and noogies being exchanged between all except
Jafo - whose hair was now completely gone - and DCI, the precise
location of whose head could not be determined without completely
undoing Jafo's colostomy apparatus.
None of them was exactly what you might call a prize. But they had
been ready to par-tay, under W.
And what do neofascists 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. Any
"failed culture" will do.
Just ask Dirty Uncle Jafo. He has a theory or two about this. He
punched a button on his P2 486 speech delivery device.
WE've been doing this since WWII, it said. And went on as follows :
.. . .
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 now kicking like
a hit of Spankodin that went down the wrong hole. Which in a way, it
was.
"Does this mean, insurance-wise, I'm not covered...?" monologued
Stain, most piteously sobbing for air between farts.
"Inasmuch as you are a deadbeat mom-to-be, I think the answer to your
question is a resounding Maybe! Not!" thundered The Pervert, between
toxic flatulent eruptions that made his very 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 - and 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 which each and every Darth Vader fan, ever, conjures up
as THE moment both stWpid and yet at the same time - potentially at
least - mawkishly redemptive enough to End All Moments. [should now be
on TV for you, Jafo, to catch]
That is, if The Rapture didn't come first. As usual, under W.
"Bring me a bowl of Luke-warm water, my s-sh-son..." spluttered Darth
Uncle Jafo, his gloved hands already poised to massage the buttery
"nucular" anal labia and wormy testicles of Stain.
"Remember your hateful laMaze exercises, Stain ! Breathe!" intoned The
Pervert.
"Push!" added Mimi, for good measure.
"More Spanko!" wailed both Tiny and DCI, the dirty little slammers,
slamming like it was the Fourth Day of Christmas already.
"Happy Holidays to them, too," murmured Stain, as he lapsed into a
coma. As usual.
<to be continued>
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