Zero Dark Bullshit

Well dearest motherfuckers, he's done it again. That splendid, glorious bastard Seymour Hersh, the Pullitzer Prize winning truth jihadist who brought you Abu Graib and the My Lai massacre has ripped the scab off yet another American fairy tale, exposing the putrid viscera of harsh reality to all you sheltered sheeple out there in motherfuckerland. This time the lie exposed, via a scathing article in the London Review of Books, is none other then the long cherished fable of America's victorious slaughter of the evil 911 mastermind, Osama Bin Laden.

In hindsight the "official" story reads like the stuff of Camelot.

After torturing there way down a long trail of mysterious couriers leading from Kabul to Abbottabad, the heroic agents of the Central "Intelligence" Agency tracked down the dastardly Bin Laden, naturally living high off the hog in a plush Pakistani fortress in the burbs of Islamabad and sent in two helicopter loads of hearty, farm raised American heroes, real life G.I. Joe's known as Navy Seal Team 6. After a crash landing, these big dick swinging titans of men shot there way into the Devils palace, killing a few well armed demons in the process. After the customary Hollywood shootout, they found there way to Satan's lair and took Bin Laden down with a double tap to the dome before the still spry super villain could reach his nearby A.K. and then they were off like a hot fart in the wind, freshly killed corpse in toe, leaving the outraged Pakistani's none the wiser. The rest, as they say, is history.

Almost sounds too good to be true, right? Well that's because it is.

After carefully checking with the sources he's cultivated over the decades in both the American and Pakistani intelligence communities, Mr. Hersh managed to expose a far less cinematic narrative. Which is probably as close to the uncensored truth as will ever get.

The true story begins about a year before the raid in Abbottabad, after a senior Pakistani intelligence officer walked into the U.S. embassy in Islamabad, looking for C.I.A. station chief Jonathan Bank, with a story to tell and what a fucking story it was for he knew the whereabouts of the terrorist boogie man himself, Osama Bin Laden and he was willing to squeal for a price. Upon assuring our good rat of his safety and awaiting riches, the veteran Pakistani spook went ahead and painted a vivid and hideous picture with his own spew.

Upon escaping George Dubya's withering, half hearted barrage at Bora Bora, Mr. Bin laden found his way to Pakistan, where he was captured in 2006 by the I.S.I., Islamabad's answer to the C.I.A.. Pakistan quickly came to the decision that Bin Laden was more useful to them strategically then the yank's $25 million finders fee. So they kept the Terrorist mastermind a secret to almost everyone so they could use Bin Laden's head to keep there own Al Qaeda/Taliban problems under control, threatening to give the old bastard up to Uncle Sam any time the shit got too rowdy on the Afghan border or anytime the Talifucks considered making a move against Islamabad.

So they put up Bin Laden up in an old crash pad in the I.S.I. vacation town of Abbottabad within swinging distance of the agencies headquarters, turning a modest mansion into a single inmate prison complete with barred windows, barbed wire and 24/7 surveillance to keep there golden goose under lock and key. The Pakistani's however didn't have to foot the bill alone. The Saudi's, Who always seem to mysteriously find there way into the loop on all things Al Qaeda, caught wind that there wayward son Osama had been nabbed by there old friends in the I.S.I.. So they offered a generous sum of cashish to Islamabad, under the condition that they keep there star prisoner a secret from the american's, who might be less then thrilled to hear from the horses mouth of the house of Saud's involvement in the attacks of September 11th.

The C.I.A. agents in Islamabad relayed this shocking information to the White House and then first term president Barack Obama was understandably skeptical. All further action was halted until the agents could scrounge up some solid proof. They decided on acquiring a DNA sample from Bin Laden but this couldn't be achieved without the help of the Pakistani's. So the agents approached the powers that be in the I.S.I. and once convinced that they were caught dead to rights they reluctantly agreed to aid the C.I.A. in there plot under two conditions. The first being that Pakistan's involvement remain a secret. They couldn't afford giving there already fed up populace another reason to resent there relationship with the great Satan and support the jihadists hell bent on there destruction. The second condition was that under no circumstance was the aging Bin Laden aloud to leave his private prison alive. He simply knew too much. The C.I.A. readily agreed, undoubtedly concerned that the veteran cold warrior might leak a secret or two of there own, lest we forget the pivotal role old Osama played as a middle man supplying man power to the agencies own little Afghan pissing match with the Soviets. Obama had zero complaints about the hit either, considering the political ramifications of capturing the Devil alive and giving him the trial of the fucking century, handing the GOP a political football that would make the KSM trial look like traffic court. With 2012 just around the corner the incumbent president couldn't afford to look like that most loathsome of creatures, the "humanitarian"( add shrieks of disgust here). Running under the banner of the bad ass motherfucker who clipped Bin Laden however would officially silence the accusations of Obama being an ivy league, limp wristed, liberal pussy. So it was decided by our own powers that be that Osama Bin Laden would die but not before the I.S.I. had one of there doctors extract a DNA sample, under the guise of an inoculation. With the president finally convinced and the I.S.I. on board a plan was hatched to snuff out the Devil himself.

It all started with a blackout. The I.S.I. shut off the power in Abbottabad and the Pakistani's cleared a flight path for the Navy Seal's helicopters. Bin Laden's guards were ordered to flee the compound the moment they heard the whir of the chopper's blades. After a rough crash landing, the Seals were guided through the darkened compound by an I.S.I. liaison. There was no resistance, there was no firefight and there would be no heroes. The Seals entered there targets pitch black bedroom, armed with night vision goggles and high powered assault rifles, only to discover a crippled, flea bitten, unarmed old man, defenseless and cowering in a corner. The Seals took aim and, in the words of one of Hersh's American sources, they "obliterated him". By the time the ruthless onslaught of gunfire had finally ended there was little left of Bin Laden but blood and guts. The great boogeyman who's ever present shadow had terrorized a generation of young Americans was reduced to little more then a fuming, bullet riddled rag doll. I'm sure there was probably a chorus of high fives and gun cocking to play him out.

Let me take a moment right here to make my own feelings crystal fucking clear. Osama Bin Laden was a cunt. I'm sorry if that word offends you, quite frankly, it offends me too but I cant think of a better word to describe a man who made a lucrative career off the suffering of innocent people, Christian and Muslim alike. However even a cunt deserves there day in court, especially when they have a fucking story to tell. With that being said, back to the story at hand.

With there target destroyed, the Seals fled the scene of the crime with little more then a couple arm fulls of tattered notebooks containing nothing of real consequence. Don't buy into the latest media hype about newly disclosed paper work from Bin Laden's lair. One glance over these documents is more then enough to convince you that there nothing more then the ramblings of a delusional old has-been at best, if not outright forgeries. Just like the fabled, epic firefight, the so called treasure trove of information confiscated from Abbottabad is simply just another White House sponsored myth. Anyway, bullshit in hand, Team 6 annihilated there crashed aircraft with concussion grenades in one last attempt to destroy any evidence of there presence at that loathsome place and hitched the next ride back to Virginia.

The initial plan agreed upon by the White House and the Pakistani's was that Washington would hold it's tongue for a week or so then announce Bin Laden's death via drone strike deep in the Hindu Kush mountains, a tall tale but a believable one, thus allowing Islamabad to feign outrage over yet another Washington over reach and save face in the embattled Islamic world. Obama however had other plans. With his head fully inflated with the bravado of a burgeoning psychopath, freshly christened in the blood of his virgin kill, our darling pacifist president decided to go rogue with out even giving the intelligence community so much as a heads up. In a matter of hours Obama's A-team hastily slapped together there own tall tale, this one tailor made for prime time popcorn munching. The story of Barack the mighty dragon slayer, wiping out the bad guys in a blaze of glory. With his trusty teleprompter fully loaded with this Schwarzenegger grade horse shit, the president broke the news on live television, strutting on stage arrogantly like a Tarantino gunslinger and mugging it up for the cameras about his bad ass act of state sanctioned slaughter. The C.I.A. and Pentagon were beside themselves with fury over this betrayal, but there hands were tied. There was nothing left for them to do but clean up the mess the president made and try to fudge the evidence to make his self serving lies ring true.

Of course the compliant American media ate this modern day fairy tale whole, hook, line and sinker without even bothering to check the "facts". After all what point is there to painstakingly put together a real story when the State Department can right one for you with all the predictable pyrotechnics of a Hollywood blockbuster. So they gorged themselves shamelessly on a buffet of salacious details and made a fucking mint off of trafficking the shit to an equally compliant American public with an orgy of special exclusives, T.V. movies, best selling books and critically acclaimed torture porn.

So I guess it should come as little surprise that these same amoral jackals with the gall to call themselves the fourth estate reacted the way they did to Seymour Hersh's work of legitimate journalistic integrity. Rather than cop to there shoddy reporting and launching there own investigations into Hersh's expose they instead decided it was easier to simply shoot the messenger. Asshole after braying asshole stepped forward to take a steaming shit on dear old Mr. Hersh's impeccable reputation, painstakingly built over decades of the kind of sweaty, white knuckled work totally alien to these loud mouth prestitutes who's only real work is done on there knees servicing the beltway insiders who give there vacant lives the illusion of purpose with candid interviews and indulgent press galas. By far the most disgusting displays of derelict denialism and outright character assassination occurred on the airwaves of MSNBC, the alleged bastion of progressive journalism. These shameless, Prius driving, Apple liberals practically gave themselves a fucking hernia, doing spine bending back flips to defend there precious, beloved, dear leader from the terrible indignities of the truth. Even after there own fact checkers back at the mothership of NBC gave hersh's piece a clear bill of health, they continued to struggle relentlessly to make the laughably absurd argument that the article was simpatico with the White Houses bullshit. I hate to use this same word twice in one post, let alone four times but, cunts, all of them, cunts.

Is this the same media my parents grew up with? Is this the same press that went to the fucking Supreme Court, defending the right to publish the Pentagon Papers? What fucking happened to these people? When did they decide to trade in there integrity for the privilege of whoring themselves out to big business and bad government? Have they no shame? If this were 1973 the calls for Obama's impeachment would be louder then his bombs. On the flip side if Watergate happened today media parasites like David Gregory would probably be calling for Woodward and Bernstien to be waterboarded and shipped off to Gitmo. When good journalists like Seymour Hersh and Glenn Greenwald are blackballed as conspiracy nuts and morally defunct despots like Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton pass for liberal lions, then you really know this countries fucked. Thank Christ for the Internet. Stay tuned dearest motherfuckers. The truth still means something here.

Confessions Of A Fat Male Feminist

I'm fat.... There I fucking said it. In fact, I'll say it again. I, Nicholas Adam Reid, am fat and I'm not talking husky, chubby, pudgy, cherubic, stout, or rubenesque. I'm talking fat with a capital ass. I wont give you my weight and measurements because quite frankly, in spite of the confessional nature of this piece, its none of your goddamn business.

I'm also a feminist. You would think these two things have nothing to do with each other and you would be wrong. You see I'm a feminist because I'm fat. Talk about a mind fuck right? Well let me break it down for you.

I could never in a million years even begin to pretend to know what its truly like to be a woman in this hyper chauvinistic society. To have to check myself in the mirror every time I leave the house after dark, not to see how I look but to ponder if this is the get up that will inspire some inch dicked psychopath to violate me inside and out and I'll never in a million years understand what its like to have the seed of just such a beast growing inside me and having to make the impossible decision whether or not to destroy that demon seed or continue to remain a hostage of my own biology in the name of an unnamed life. No, thank Christ I'll never truly understand that horror....

But I do have some idea of how it feels to be objectified for my body, for something that's not completely within my control. You see I wasn't born fat, in fact as a kid I was a skinny motherfucker, down right scrawny believe it or not, so much so that my parents even worried that I might have rickets because I was so damned emaciated. It wasn't until I started taking antidepressants for O.C.D. and depression that I really began to pack on the pounds, which isn't an unusual side effect of the drug. I found myself faced with a hard decision. Be thin and miserable or be fat and relatively happy. I chose the latter and I think I chose right but that doesn't mean its been fucking easy.

People treat you different when your fat, having spent most of my life crack head skinny this realization was more than a little jarring. Suddenly I was no longer seen as a person but a fat person. My identity was no longer up to me. Other people decided who I was, not based on my character but by the shape of my body. I could no longer eat at a restaurant or shop at a grocery store without being judged by a crowd of strangers who had my whole story all figured out the moment they saw the size of my ass. I couldn't even walk through a fucking locker room or past a construction site without feeling defiled by a cavalcade of jeering snickers and crass half whispered jokes from a posse of muscle bound knuckle draggers, drunk off each others sweaty testosterone. I also couldn't seem to turn on the news without some wispy, new age, weight Nazi blaming me for the downfall of western civilization.

Perhaps worst of all I couldn't seem to make a meaningful connection with a girl without being relegated to the infuriating purgatory of the friend zone. Apparently my flabby body made me permanently un-boyfriendable regardless of my personality. Then again I suppose my karmic taste for skinny girls betrayed me. I know, I know, I'm a fucking hypocrite, especially considering that fat women have it ten times as hard as fat men, but I am who I am. I cant change that and believe me when I tell you I've fucking tried. But is that really so criminal? Should a fat person be any more obligated to date another fat person then a black person is obligated to date within there own race? When did self segregation become a touch stone of political correctness? Anyway, off topic.... Jesus fuck balls! Where in the holy shit was?.... Oh yeah, feminism.

After suffering the humiliating indignities of teenage obesity, my discovery of feminism, through the furious majesty of Riot Grrrl bands like Bikini Kill and Hole, felt like a welcome breath of fresh air in my apnea stressed lungs. I got it. They wanted the same damn thing I wanted. To be seen as a fully actualized human being and not just a set of saggy bitch tits to gawk at. They wanted to be judged based on the quality of there character and not what they chose to put into there bodies. They wanted to be heard and not just seen and They wanted to be taken seriously. In fact they fucking demanded it and they gave me the courage to do the same.

So I'll fucking say it one more time. I, Nicholas Adam Reid, am a fat fucking feminist who also happens to have a dick. Hear me roar! And if any of you chauvinistic trolls out there in motherfuckerland feel like tossing rocks at the girls you call sluts, you best remember those rocks land in my yard too and thanks to bad ass bitches like Kathleen Hanna and Courtney Love I can throw them back like a girl, right in your fucking faces.

Stand strong ladies. As long as my fat ass has you to lean on, you don't stand alone.