THE WOP FROM HELL AND RUSSIAN TOBACCO

I see her in everything. In every face on the T-Vo screen, in every beautiful silhouette on trucker’s tire flaps. She’s my dream in the night of a thousand dreams, some sonic boom to my ears from above the stratosphere.

Write your local representative and senators and tell them to raise the margin requirements for speculators in the Energy Futures Market. If they do so, it is estimated to bring crude oil prices down by as much as $5 a barrel. This would provide some immediate relief for consumers at the pump.

Like an ancient locust swarm, the cicadas have returned after 17 years of hibernation.

FARC rebel bombing, Panamanian Authority deportations, fake heroes placate the proletariat and whimsical drugs play games in evil ways. Docile humanistic instinct plays out of rhyme to my beastly eyes like some bad Samoan girl scout cookie, sitting in the sun for a dozen months. We listen to “Brand New Cadillac,” as death by al-Sadr plays on the TV.
She ain’t never comin’ back!
Drinkin’ vino.
The giant ants can wipe out Washington.
Girlfriend says, “He looks like a ceramic doll.”
I showed her a picture of an Iraqi boy with his brains blown out.
Impeach Cheney first.
Like we did Encyclopedia Brown and Paddington Bear.

Watched the ridiculousness of Chinese oppression in PTU, the new film by Johnnie To.
It’s about the extremes of law enforcement in Beijing. A little over the top, Chairman Mao. You need to relax a bit.

Listened to Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, The Cars, and Bill Clinton’s audio book.
80’s songs and sex with interns were the overarching themes.

Wake and bake today.

This weekend’s party was over the minute it began. A semiconscious blur for the most part, I remember some wicked DJing and Suicidal Tendencies. The wop from hell and the Russian tobacco will stick with me for a week.

Finally the Olympics are over. What did everyone think of the blatant cheating?

Those Greeks are some intense people. Best damn opening and closing ceremonies I’ve ever seen. Most unbelievably ridiculous sports I’ve ever seen, as well. Bikini Beach Volleyball. The death of American basketball. Drugs. Motorcycle Crashes. Drugs. Genetically Modified Athletes. Drugs. And what about the blatant cheating? And what, pray tell, is with those creepy government created twins that played for the USA gymnastics team?

Bills to pay and shit to say. Be warned. It’s a comin’ down, sir.

SMOKING WINSTONS, SIPPIN’ ON SEAGRAMS

Like any good paranoid Amerikan, I diverted from the realities of city life and took holiday in Battle Lake, MN. Boating, fishing, tubing, campfires, reading, chatting, all the things that one does when not under the constant barrage of entertainment modern living gives you.


Visit http://www.redcolony.com/fiction/030814.html

There, you’ll find one of my pieces of fiction.


You’ve heard it here, first. HILLBILLY SUPERFICTION is the name of my new book. It’s “must read crap from the era of comprehensive advertising.” Available at finer underground bookstores. Like Arise!


World War IV (to date):

9200 US Casualties (killed, wounded, injured, or otherwise)
622 Coalition Casualties (British, Polish, Danish, Ukrainian, Spanish, etc.)
10,800 Insurgents
4300 Civilians
45,000 Iraqi Military Personnel
604 Iraqi Police Officers
150 UN and aid workers

Figures are from www.globalsecurity.org

Some interesting points on who is not counted in the US death toll:

Soldiers with brain damage who are sent home as vegetables and the families are made to decide if they keep them on life support or terminate him.

And soldiers with no next-of-kin are not officially released until a next-of-kin is found. Obviously, there’s a few that are never found.


Listening to Ambulance Ltd. The album is an operatic mindfuck the likes of which only a gorilla on Quaaludes can enjoy. Or anyone with really good musical taste. What am I saying? No one really knows. I don’t know anymore. I’m drinking too much Seagrams.


Visit http://www.brandsoftheworld.com/

It’s a website based out of Russia. Hosted by CUBE.

It’s a riot.


Sleep now in the fire.


This is the Amerikan Communist Socialist Party of the United States of America Workers Union speaking out. We won’t take anymore of your capitalist games. We want our free health care and rights for all workers. It’ll all be for the good of the party. Fuckin’ A. Put your hand up and make a fist for the leader, whomever he may be. He will put bread on our table. No, not really good Honey 12 grain that you like to buy for $3.45 at Rainbow. But worker Bread. That you wait in a line for for 2 hours and then get turned away.

Yeah, we want that. This is the Amerikan Communist Socialist Party of the United States of America Workers Union. Fear us, capitalist swine.

NAJAF AND THE COLLAPSING AMERICAN INFLUENCE

The city of Najaf is situated 160 km south of Baghdad and has a population of 560,000. Comprised of low-level urban sprawl with arched brick buildings and rows of trees lining the streets. Najaf is the spiritual center of Shiite Islam and home to the Shrine of Imam Ali Ibn Abi Talib, final resting place of Prophet Mohammed’s son-in-law. The city is constructed around a massive cemetery, the Wadi al-Salam or Valley of Peace, housing millions of Muslims from all over the world. The circle of graves is often called the City of the Dead.

This is the theatre of America’s helplessness.

American Forces, having invaded Iraq 17 months earlier, have stalled out in the siege of Muqtada al-Sadr in the Holy Shrine of Imam Ali. Gone are the days of Manuel Noriega and blasting Metallica to make the bad guys surrender. We must play the games of politics through the Interim Iraqi Government. We have to wait until someone else solves the situation with diplomacy. And we can’t simply carpet bomb the place. All our technology is for not.

The months of fighting has proven one thing, we cannot be the good guys in this war anymore. We can only be the targets.

Muqtada al-Sadr is the son of Grand Ayatollah Muhammad al-Sadr, killed in 1999 by agents of Saddam Hussein and leader of the Sadriyun Movement, he fights for the end of US Occupation and an Islamic state in Iraq.

Just after the US Invasion of Iraq, al-Sadr used his Friday sermons to denounce the “puppet” regime of US-appointed Governing Council and Interim Administration and establish an Islamic government complete with ministries.

He the formed the Imam Al-Mahdi Army, a group of militant supporters loyal only to him and his holy campaign. Defense department figures range from a 3000 to 6000 participants.

In October 13, 2003, the Madhi Army attacked moderate Shi’ite Grand Ayatollah Ali ali-Sistani’s supporters, drawing the battle lines between hardliners and moderate Muslim influence.

Finally, in April of 2004. Everything came to a head: US troops surround Najaf, the Coalition closed the Al-Hawzah newspaper on charges of incitement, and an Iraqi judge issued an arrest warrant for al-Sadr in the killing of Ayatollah Abdul Majid al-Khoei.

In response, the Mahdi Militia backed by thousands of supporters and stormed government buildings and police stations in Sadr City, Najaf, al-Kut, and Karbala to challenge direct control of the Coalition Provisional Authority.

And then a truce was bartered.

Iranian President Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani praised actions while Iranian Grand Ayatollah Hussein Ali Montazeri criticized Mahdi Army.

Al-Sadr’s forces remained quiet for a few months, until August, 2004, when clashes between US and Iraqi Security Forces and al-Sadr supporters leads to death of 300 militants in Najaf and 19 in Sadr City.

Interim Iraqi Prime Minister Iyad Allawi gave 30 days for insurgents to surrender their weapons and receive amnesty. Indeed, Allawi invited al-Sadr to participate in elections next January, but Sadr responded that he would fight the American occupation of Najaf until “last drop of blood” is spilled

US air strikes began and a Mahdi attack on a Najaf police station killed 7 officers. In Basra, militants set fire to Iraq’s South Oil Company and a mortar attack on the US Embassy in Baghdad injured an American.

Muqtada al-Sadr issued a statement. “Martyrdom or victory.”

The US is stuck between invading the mosque and killing the forces that lie within, loosing the hearts and minds of Iraqis or letting al-Sadr win those same hearts and minds of the Iraqi people, in the form of resistance. Both sides of the coin are a failure.

And what’s worse is the United States cannot remove itself from the situation, no matter which way we turn we cannot win.

This latest quagmire will only strengthen the supporters of an Islamic state and draw out the weakness in the new Prime Minister and the Interim Legislature.

The resistance is finally cutting through to the core of the issue; just as in faulty wars past, the US will not come out of this looking like the good guys.

And we so desperately want to be the good guys.

NOT ENOUGH/TOO MUCH SLEEP

I often have this dream where a giant Uncle Sam marches across Tokyo all Godzilla style. He mangles the train cars, knocks over buildings, and not even the Japanese National Guard can stop him.

Went to Bryant Lake Bowl for a Drag King Musical. Drank Belgium beer. It’s strong.

Leaving for Battle Lake, hopefully make it to the Mdewakanton Sioux Pow Wow later this weekend.

Be good.

THRASHING AND SCREAMING, I WILL NOT GO TO THE FUTURE QUIETLY

The backdoor draft of Operation Stop Loss continues amidst a lawsuit by one soldier, hellbent on not being forced into fighting for this regime.

At the Shrine of Imam-Ali, Al Sadr’s forces continue to stand strong against Iraqi Security and US troops. An Iraqi delegation has given Sadr hours to decide if he will lead his militia to annihilation at the hands of the world’s superior military force or fall back and form a political party. This is a turning point in the fledgling democracy.

Many dead in Najaf.
A passenger bus caught in crossfire in Al Kut.
More mortar shells hitting the Iraqi National Congress.

And a giant robot has been seen saving the lives of motorists in the Oxford countryside.

It Mad Max meets the Transformers here in 2004.
Welcome to the sci-fi certainty bazaar. Top it off with a cherry.

I’M THE TYPE OF GUY THAT SMOKES POT ON A TUESDAY

I’ve realized that the only thing worth watching on television is the national radar. There’s no bullshit there, just facts. Where else are you going to get that?

Rock Against Bush volume 2. Green Day, Bad Religion, OpIvy, No Doubt, Foo Fighters, Rancid, No Use For A Name, Dropkick Murphys, Flogging Molly, Yellowcard, Sleater-Kinney, Mad Caddies, Only Crime. A perfect promotional tool for the left just before the election.

Meanwhile…

Plumes of smoke billow over the cities of Najaf and Al Kut. US Forces and Iraqi Security have begun their final push against Muqtada Al-Sadr’s Madhi Militia. Indeed, reports of Al-Sadr being injured by shrapnel are rampant.

This is the American free speech movement in action. Pray tell the forces of evil preventing this are within our borders and they are no Al Qaida. They are the Bush Administration and Homeland Security. They are the Senators and Congressmen scared of what it really represents. I love my guns. I love my free press. I love my religious convictions. I can worship a giant penguin god and our government can’t do anything about it. Leave me alone and stop trying to get in my bedroom.

Leave those poor Iraqis alone, too.

UNTITLED #42

Woke up on the lazy side of the bed today next to my ravishingly beautiful vixen of a girlfriend. I got dressed, smoked a bowl, burnt some CDs and watched the Olympics for a couple hours. Then I watched the Vikes kickoff. Left for OCB. Ate too much and stopped by the Pizza Luce Block Party. Caught All the Pretty Horses. My girlfriend bought a button and a bumper sticker. Had a couple beers and went to see Charlton Heston be a badass in The Omega Man. Came home and drank some more.

This is a day to remember.

MR. CHAPLIN, CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH

I remember it rained for years and the blood, it left a
stain…--Brody Armstrong

I wish I was a socialist.

From each according to ability to each according to their need.

It sounds like a novel system, better than this capitalist mumbo jumbo. Survival of the fittest is one thing. But survival of the rich is another. Some day a big wave will come and wash this stink away from our great nation. And once again we will be for the people and by the people.

Besides, these crap cigarettes are making me cough. I want good tobacco, not these addictive cancer stix.

So far capitalism’s gotten me zilch.

There’s nothing like the Bosstones to cheer you up.

(That was a segway.)

It’s a funny thing to be loved by someone. You’re always proving to yourself new feats of daring at levels you never thought you’d reach. And you’re always proving to yourself how much love you actually have inside you. I have the tendency to push those close to me away. To shield myself from any real emotion. I’m intent this time to not repeat the same mistakes of the past. The way to do that is to stay positive.

I’m a great catch. And she’s bittersweet like a thunderclap in the springtime, a flickering radiance from the heavens and a warm world to surround me.

DON'T STEP OUTSIDE, THERE'RE PEOPLE OUT THERE.

YOU BRING THE CHECK, WE’LL BRING YOU DESTRUCTION

The motorcycle revs up and so begins 39 minutes and 17 seconds of nonstop madness. Lars Frederiksen and the Bastards new record, Viking, seduces the listener by at first becoming what you’d completely expect and twisting the sound around until Lars has you by the balls and won’t let go until he’s good and ready.

Featuring volley after volley of mayhem-laden punk tunes, Lars speaks of an apocalyptic future or something very closer. He lays out a world corrupt with madness and gluttony, and just as the rest of us, he himself has been swallowed up with obsession and addiction.

Viking is adorned with life stories, introspections, and an overarching fifties feel. One part rebellion, one part psychosis. Hardcore songs like Fight and Blind Ambition pump the adrenaline level, while down and dirty pieces like Switchblade featuring Skinhead Rob bring the whole perspective together.

One the highest moments is My Life to Live, a duet between Lars and his Rancid buddie Tim Armstrong. The song tosses lines back and forth, forcing Lars to delve even deeper into his truths. With lines like I’ve done every hooker from here to Toledo, the fun is rampant.

Indeed Tim produced this record, and although he captures the sound and diverse feelings of this proud Dane and his group of Bastards, he experiments with quite a variety of sounds, which succeed on some levels, but also leaves one with a bit of nostalgia for a real punk record.

The entire package culminates in The Viking – this little ditty is (dare I say it) one of the most beautiful and honest songs ever written. Not gloating or demanding pity, Lars lays out the facts of his life like some surgeon general’s warning.

A quick glance through the liner notes reveals a man at the height of his excess. Or maybe on his way down. Maybe like Marlon Brando in the Wild One. Or maybe like Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now. Either way, it’s a performance for the generations. This record is punk.

STORMTROOPERS IN MANHATTAN

Today, Bush touted about extending the Patriot Act, revising the 1947 National Security Act and monitoring WMD. But most importantly our fearless leader decided to create a National Intelligence Director, a sort of be all and end all of intelligence gathering. Not to mention the strange fascist parallels, this new SS will work with every facet of law enforcement, intelligence agencies, and immigration organizations to control all information about as many people in America and out as possible.

One good thing about said program is that it will not be based out of the White House, so we have no fear that this will in any way, shape, or form affect Bush’s decisions. Oh, thank God, he’ll continue to make all the decisions with his posse and not any new guy. That’s good.

But, either way, there’s stormtroopers in Manhattan and stock prices are flat. This isn’t working and I’m getting scared.