Wednesday, December 14, 2016

16 More People Who Don't Suck!

It's hard to believe that it's already been a year since my first annual List of People Who Don't Suck! A lot has happened since then. I may still be an agoraphobic hermit but I can no longer call myself a shut-in. I leave my house every week to commune with other charmingly damaged souls at my local psych-rehab, many of whom I've come to see as friends. I've come out of the closet with my long, silent struggle with gender dysphoria and I've found a sense of community within the queer movement that I've been searching for my whole life. I still don't technically have a job, unless you count being an unapologetic well-fare-queen (better my toilet paper than another smart bomb), but I am looking into volunteering at a local radio station, so Radio Free Happy Valley could be in my crystal ball. I've also managed to get a lot more people to this sight. Not nearly as many as I'd like but I've made a few tiny earthquakes out there in cyberspace and I promise you, dearest motherfuckers, it's only the beginning.

My original idea for this list came from the fact that the few people closest to me often complained about my widespread pessimism and general negativity. They would often ask me things like, "Is there anything you do like?" So I decided to devote an entire post at the end of the year to 16 people who actually don't suck. People seemed to dig it so I decided to make it an annual thing. So here I am  a year later with 16 more people who don't suck. There are renegades, visionaries, iconoclasts and even a few people who I've come to consider friends. They're a tight minority of people who can actually manage to illicit something resembling hope from a wretch like me. I love them all and you should too.

* Ajamu Baraka-  I had every intention of putting Jill Stein on this list. She ran a decent campaign as 2016's only pacifist choice for president. Sadly, however, since the election Jill has chosen to allow herself to become a pawn of the DNC's latest Russophobic witch hunt, calling for a Rust-Belt recount that could only benefit the queen of chaos, Killary Clinton. So, since I can no longer in good conscience say that Jill doesn't suck, I gave her spot to someone who actually fucking deserves it. Her VP, Ajamu Baraka. A legit black radical in the tradition of dudes like Stokely Carmichael and W.E.B. Dubois, who had the balls to call his former running mates recount bullshit and hopefully, just maybe, will have the balls to deny her the Green Party nomination in 2020. Come on Ajamu, we're counting on you.

* Angela Keaton-  Since childhood, I've always secretly wanted a sister. Chalk it up to being a genderqueer child in a mostly cis-male household. But for whatever reason, I've spent most of my life collecting sister figures. None have been finer than Angela Keaton,'s dangerously overworked executive director and all around libertarian riot grrrl. Bikini Kill's classic "Rebel Girl" could have easily been written about her. No one online has been more helpful, more giving, more patient or more kind to me personally than AK. In fact, there is probably about a 90% chance that if your looking at this site right now, it's probably largely thanks to her. I'm proud to call her a friend, an allie and a mentor. Angela Keaton is who I want to be when I grow up.

* Colin Kaepernik-  I hate football but Colin Kaepernik is my favorite football player. Mostly because he seems to have devoted himself entirely to pissing off the average jock. I can't tell you dick about his stats or skills or weapons or whatever the fuck sports people care about. I can tell you, however, that whenever he makes the news, whether it's for protesting the National Anthem, calling out the American police state, defending the late Fidel Castro or refusing to throw his vote away on a sick fuck like Trump or Clinton, it puts a big shit-eating grin on my face. Keep up the good work Colin. It's nice to see an athlete in the news for something other than knocking his wife's teeth out. Steven A. Smith can eat my hairy asshole.

* Adam Reed and Matt Thompson-  The mad genius' behind treasured TV cult classics like Sealab 2021 and Frisky Dingo, not to mention the best animated show on television, Archer. Adam and Matt have been making brilliantly sick cartoons since the turn of the Millennium and they have yet to disappoint me once. Absurd, vulgar, literate, profane and above all endlessly quotable- "Phrasing, boom!" "Slideshow! she's in it." "Chinatown's got something for errvrybody." -Their work has served as the airbag for the endless car crash that is my life.

* Tulsi Gabbard-  Slideshow! she's in it....  Sorry, hard to turn off, but aside from being in my own personal slideshow (if you have to ask, don't), the Representative for Hawaii's 2nd Congressional District is also probably Washington's most consistent voice for peace since Ron Paul's retirement. Showing an endearing, Kucinich-esque willingness to piss off the cruise-missile progressives in her own party, the Iraq war vet and current Army National Guard MP has, in only the past few weeks, broke party protocol by becoming the first Democrat in Congress to meet with he who shall not be named at Trump Tower (wait, oops) in an attempt to convince the President Elect to stand by his word (or one of them at least) and fuck off out of Syria, then punctuated the point by introducing the Stop Arming Terrorists Act, which would finally block tax payer dollars from flowing to ISIS, Al-Nusra or their derelict sponsors in Saudi Arabia and Qatar. If Tulsi keeps this up, I might have to rejoin the Democratic Party to vote for her in 2020. Not sure if I should thank or curse her for that predicament but she's definitely earned her place on this list.

* Thomas L. Knapp-  Though he'll always be Tom the moderator from to me, Mr. Knapp has spent a lifetime righteously raging against the machine. From Act-Up to A.N.S.W.E.R. to his unofficial role as the Don Quixote of doomed third party candidacies, including his own, Tom is a tireless crusader for all the right things in a world too mad to appreciate it. He's also a friend who never stops teaching me new things, whether I want to learn them or not. He's made me a better writer and a better revolutionary and I thank him for this. You can find his work on his blog Kn@ppster and the Garrison Center where he serves as director and senior new analyst.

* Mitski-  Mitski Miyawaki was already the best thing to happen to alternative rock in ages before she released her fourth album, Puberty 2, this year. A reverb drenched, heart breaking and fearlessly naked self-portrait of a biracial twenty-something woman trying to figure herself out in an increasingly xenophobic and chauvinistic nation. Puberty 2 is far and above the greatest album of the year, plunging Mitski into the realm of feminist rock visionaries like Patti Smith, P.J. Harvey and Courtney Love.

* Beppe Grillo-  Beppe Grillo is insane. He also might be the best thing to happen to Italy since Antonio Negri (Google it, you rube). The politically incorrect, Ferrari driving, stand-up turned blogger turned cyber-anarchist anti-hero is kind of like a perverse mix of Ralph Nader, Abbie Hoffman, Willy Wonka and Tyler Durdin. At the helm of his equally idiosyncratic Five Star Movement, Beppe has repeatedly taken on the notoriously corrupt Italian establishment and won, most recently with his triumph over Italian Prime Minister and NATO play-thing Matteo Renzi's attempt to castrate Italian democracy via referendum which ended with Renzi's resignation after the Five Star lead "Vote No" movement left his dreams of Duce-dom in tatters. What's next for Beppe's radicals? Hopefully an even bigger victory in 2018 then their 2013 general election upset, which may see Italy join it's northern neighbors, Switzerland, in embracing direct democracy and rejecting the EU. Fingers Crossed.

* Matt Stone and Trey Parker-  In 2012, Matt and Trey, the cheeky bastards behind America's most beloved, foul mouthed, animated social satire, South Park, found themselves at a creative in-pass. After over a dozen seasons and the surprise success of their Broadway musical, The Book of Mormon, they were bored with their meal-ticket but trapped in a long-term contract with Comedy Central. Most animators would have simply sucked it up and phoned it in. But Matt and Trey aren't most animators. They decided that if they were stuck in South Park then South Park would have to change. The results of this gamble? Miraculously, the show got even better. Stretching their brutally honest and poignant brand of satire into story-lines that lasted entire seasons and diving deeper into the development of their characters, Matt and Trey built on their already near flawless legacy and made the last several seasons of South Park, the best seasons of South Park, with this years twentieth season, an epic exploration of the nature of Trolling, sexism, anti-trolling and anti-sexism, brash and brilliant enough to enlighten and enrage everyone, myself included. Bravo.

* Birgitta Jonsdottir-  I love Iceland. The Volcanoes. The black sand beaches. The quirky art rock bands. It's little wonder that the island is my go to destination whenever I threaten to leave this goddamn country for one reason or another. And, in spite of global warming, Iceland's actually getting cooler, thanks largely to the rise of Wikileaks vet Birgitta Jonsdottir and her Pirate Party, who threaten to return the island to it's anarchist roots, with their recent electoral gains based on their promise of direct democracy, net neutrality and the worlds first crowd-sourced constitution. They are also pushing to offer full refuge and citizenship for Edward Snowden. Save a cottage for me Birgitta. I should be along shortly.

* Mariela Castro-  There's a new revolution going on in Cuba and it's better than radical, it's queer. After decades of stagnant Soviet era homophobia, Cuba has jumped to the forefront of LGBT rights in the global south and it's largely thanks to Mariela Castro, the daughter of current president Raul Castro and late feminist revolutionary Vilma Espin. As director of the Cuban National Center for Sex Education, Mariela has nearly single-handedly made queer liberation an integral part of the Cuban Revolution, even going so far as to pass a measure that provides sex-change surgery free of charge as part of Cuba's National Healthcare Program. Mariela has added to the already legendary revolutionary legacy of the Castro's and seems poised to bring that legacy into the Twenty-First Century.

* St. Vincent-  There are far too few truly unique voices in music today and you would be hard pressed to find one more unique than Annie Clark's who has set college radio on fire as St. Vincent. Her music is undefinable. A veritable genre upon itself, shape shifting seamlessly between pop and avante garde, digital and analogue, overt and subliminal, until the borders evaporate entirely, the distinctions are non-existent and what your left with is something akin to a new language. One no one can speak but her. But one we somehow all understand regardless. St. Vincent isn't an artist. She's an alchemist, a magician, a witch. And I can hardly wait to hear her next spell.

* Adam Kokesh-  I was born in 1988 but I miss the Sixties. I'm not talking about Woodstock, the Kennedy's and all that Tom Hanks approved, limousine-liberal bullshit. The hippies can eat their flowers. I wanna know where did all the flaming dollars go. The Sixties I miss were defined by Malcolm X, the MC5 and Karl Hess. And that's why I love Adam Kokesh. The one modern-day activist who truly embodies that renegade spirit of yesteryear. Whether he's shouting down war pigs like like Alberto Gonzales and John McCain or loading a twelve gauge on Freedom Plaza, the decorated Iraq War veteran is the living embodiment of the Second American Revolution he has promised to peacefully ignite. And Adam has saved his greatest stunt for 2020, when he aims to mount a campaign for the presidency on the platform of liquidating the Federal Government entirely. Don't get me wrong, that's one revolution that this mutualist well-fare-queen isn't quite ready for yet. But that doesn't mean that the very thought of it doesn't put a great big smile on my bearded face and a great big hard-on in my panties. Mmmmmm! You smell that? Smells like flaming dollar bills. Smells like 1969.

* Lisa Reid-  They say that behind every great man is a great woman. Well, behind every great gendequeer there's a great mother. After all, they made us this way, didn't they? Regardless, they don't make them any greater than mine. Lisa Turner Reid is more than just my mother. She's my best friend. And if that makes me a fag, then I'll wear that slur with pride. Our relationship is kind of like the Gilmore Girls, only Lorelei is a Catholic zealot and Rory is a 300 pound, bearded, anarchist with gender issues. Through everything, through the blasphemy and the mental illness and the Lyme disease and the gender dysphoria and the foul language and the prescription drugs and the blatant anti-Americanism, my mother, the conservative daughter of a Marine Corps. officer has stood defiantly by my side and I couldn't possibly thank her enough, so this spot on my blog will have to do. Mom, you're politically and spiritually nuts but you definitely don't suck. To quote Neko Case- This tornado loves you.

Well that's it folks. That's my fucking list. Sixteen people who matter. Sixteen people who make this fucked up planet worth fighting for. Sixteen people who don't suck! Since this will probably be the last post I write this year, I wish you all a happy holiday, regardless of whatever that fucking holiday is. And if you don't have one, make one. If you've taken the time to read my latest ramblings, you more than deserve it.

As always,

Peace, Love and Empathy- CH

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Legalize Everything.

In this current age of Trumpian dystopia, what with the unexpected rebirth of the radical right in this country, it's easy for leftists like myself to feel down (Clinical Depression doesn't exactly help either). But, believe it or not, dearest motherfuckers, there is some reason for hope. In the long run, the great arch of history tends to veer towards the left-lane of liberty. The clearest example of this is the Culture War. Less then a decade ago, the idea of pot being all but legal, in one form or another, from Colorado to Pennsylvania, was nearly unthinkable. Gay marriage being legal nation wide seemed even less likely. But here we are, gay folks are getting hitched, everyone's getting baked and there's not a goddamn thing Trump or his jackbooted fan-club can do about it. But that doesn't mean the war is over and this is one war that this pacifist doesn't want to stop. Not until everyone is free and everything is legal.

When it comes to most things, I'm basically a libertarian socialist. When it comes to matters of vice and virtue, however, I'm more of a libertine socialist. My basic philosophy is that if it feels good and it doesn't hurt anybody but yourself, then it's a gift from god worth indulging in responsibly and it sure as fuck isn't anybody's business but your own. With all that being said, in regards to the good news on dope and gays, my response is, why stop there?

Marijuana is fantastic. It's like green Tylenol. It's good for everything. Got Arthritis? Smoke a joint. Feeling depressed? Smoke a joint. Can't get to sleep? Smoke a joint. Nothing interesting on TV? Smoke a joint. As far as I'm concerned, pot should be legal everywhere for everyone. But why stop there? Ecstasy and psychedelics can do wonders for mental health when used properly. Prescription heroin has been used to successfully keep long-time junkies at bay in Holland for decades and it's far less toxic than that corporate methadone sludge we still push in the States. Hell, even cocaine has fueled some of the greatest cinema ever made (thank blow for Taxi Driver). As far as I'm concerned, if it grows out of the ground, legalize it. Marijuana, salvia, peyote, psilocybin, shit even Coca and Opium. Hill tribes and mountain farmers have been using both peacefully to get through the day since Christ wore short-pants. As for all that grotty chemical shit, I say decriminalize it. We've been bashing our bloody fucking brains out with prohibition for over half a goddamn century and where has it got us? In debt and enslaved by the Prison Industrial Complex. Legalize it!

Marriage equality is basic common sense. Marriage is a simple contract between consenting adults. Why regulate it based on genitalia? But, once again, why stop there? Thousands of people practice polygamy in this country for both religious and personal reasons. Why force them to live beneath the shadows of lunatics like Warren Jeffs? What makes their love any less legitimate than anyone else's. And if you wanna get all Christ-y about this shit, just try slinging a cat through the Old Testament without hitting a polygamist. There quite literally everywhere. So? Out of the Bible and into the streets! Legalize it!

Polygamists and queer folks aren't the only sexual minorities that face oppression in this country either. Discrimination against the BDSM community remains wide spread and totally politically correct. LGBTQ+? BDSM? I happen to be a member of both of these maligned alphabets. Why should it be anymore exceptable to bash me for being a toe-sucking submissive than it is for me being non-binary? I wasn't exactly given a choice on either matter. And while it may not be illegal to be queer, polyamorous or a sadomasochist in this country, it's also not illegal to be fired or thrown out into the streets for being any of the above in most states. I'm not saying lets lynch the landlord but can we at least keep him out of my fucking bedroom? And as long as we're on the subject of sex, why is paying for it still illegal. What's the difference between a prostitute and a psychiatrist? Seriously! They both offer emotional relief for a price, only hookers give you a hell of a lot more bang for your buck. Why should one get a corner office and the other get a jail cell? I say unionize the working girls (and boys), kick out the fucking pimps and legalize it!

And last but certainly not least absurd, there's gambling. Everybody does it. Everybody knows that everybody does it. But still it's illegal or rather should I say "illegal". You can buy lotto tickets, bet on the ponies and buy stock in Uber but shooting dice behind the bodega is illegal? What the hell kind of fucking sense does that make? Why should Nevada get to have all the fun? Just because there a barren, god-forsaken, hellscape? Have you been to Altoona? There is no reason why I shouldn't be aloud to walk into my local fag-bar and bet the drag queen next to me fifty bucks that Mike Pence doesn't get busted for butt-fucking rent-boys by 2020. It's my goddamn money! Legalize it!

Who gets to make these stupid fucking rules? And what gives them the authority to run our lives? The answer to both these questions is the state and they do it because they can, respectively. Which is why I'm a libertarian socialist and banning the state is the one form of prohibition that I'm down with. But until my dream of a stateless society can be realized we'll have to settle for small victories to keep us going. So I say if consenting adults want to smoke opium, shoot craps, get pegged by a dominatrix, get a sex-change and marry her, all the power to em. What with all the war, blood, guts and murder on this boiling planet, don't we have better things to do then regulate consensual human behavior? Bong rips and scissor fights are the tits but, mark my words, its only the beginning. The American electorate may be dumb as bricks but there smart enough to know that prohibiting victim-less crimes is bullshit. Which makes them twice as smart as the dipshits they elect. If that's not a silver lining on the Trump cloud then I don't know what is.

Keep it up, dearest motherfuckers. Live free and legalize everything.

Peace, Love, Anarchy and Empathy- CH

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Godspeed Comandante Castro

I write this post to you, dearest motherfuckers, with a heavy heart. I write this post early because another one of my heroes has died. On November 25 in this year of the devil twenty-hundred and sixteen, Fidel Castro- revolutionary, lawyer, freedom fighter, dictator and all around contrarian bad-ass motherfucker shuffled off this mortal coil into the pantheon of oblivion at the age of 90. I know what some of you must be thinking. That I'm fucking nuts or, even worse, a hypocrite. An outspoken genderfuck anarcho-transfeminist defending a crusty old Leninist strongman. And you're right to judge me this way. Castro has done some horrible things that I wont even attempt to defend. He locked up his critics and followed the homophobic Soviet company line of sending queer people to the sanatoriums. I wont pretend like he was an angel. He wasn't. He could be a real cunt. He was an undeniably flawed human being. But these facts don't change the other facts. The fact that Fidel devoted his life to his people and to poor and maligned people across the globe. The fact that his lifetime of service to these people far overshadows the heinous mistakes he made in their name. And, perhaps most importantly, the fact that this simple son of a school-teacher went toe to toe with the most ferocious empire the world has ever known for over half a century and won. History may or may not absolve the good Comandante Castro but this is one queer anarchist who will be caught trying.

Fidel began his life pretty square. The son of middle-class landowners, he excelled at sports and academics. After a failed attempt at a pro-baseball career, he became a lawyer and then a moderately reformist politician before Yankee backed strongman, Fulgencio Batista liquidated what was left of Cuba's banana democracy and pushed young Fidel into a lifetime career as a revolutionary agitator. In 1953, Fidel led a failed revolt at the Moncada Barracks. After his arrest, the former lawyer chose to represent himself and electrified a nation with his unbowed and unapologetic defense of his crimes against the state and his thunderous condemnation of the very system that he had found himself at the mercy of. He was fearless. The Batista regime and their American handlers didn't know it then but Castro had already one the revolution before it even began. Fidel served two years in prison before being released as part of an amnesty. He fled to self-exile with his brother Raul and a handful of comrades in Mexico City where he plotted his next move.

The Castro Brothers returned to Cuba in 1956 with Argentine revolutionary Che Guevara and 79 others on a rickety old fishing boat known as the Granma. After a crash landing the tiny army found themselves the victims of an ambush. Only 12 of the original members of the 26 July Movement survived the onslaught. Fidel led them limping into the Sierra Maestra Mountains where for the next two years they led a popular rebellion that somehow snowballed into one of the centuries greatest and unlikeliest triumphs against tyranny. By 1958, Fidel and his movement road into the capital of Havana to a heroes welcome. But these brave sons of the Southern Hemisphere had pissed on a wasps nest. Their whole country would have to pay a heavy price for their courageous stand.

The moment that it became clear to the Mandarins in Washington that Castro would not allow himself to be perverted like Batista it was decided that the new Cuban Revolution would have to be strangled in it's cradle before it could gain the strength to take its first step. As Castro ordered that the wage-slave-plantations be returned to their rightful owners, the peasant farmers who toiled in them, and that the nations oil wells should belong to its citizens rather than the American conglomerates who stole them. As he shuttered the Mafia's Casinos and whorehouses and returned dignity to the streets of Havana, the United States gathered the Batista's disgruntled thugs along with a melange of fascist mercenaries and together they launched a reign of terror upon the tiny island nation that would last for more than half a century.

Fidel wasn't always a communist. Far from it. His original intention for Cuba was to hold popular elections once the last remnants of the Batista dictatorship had been thoroughly decimated. But before he could make this happen, Fidel found his nascent revolutionary government under siege by foreign funded terrorists and saboteurs. Trains were derailed. Harbors were mined. Crops were torched and scores of innocent civilians were slaughtered in cold blood. Once it had become abundantly clear that Uncle Sam was the source of this wave of madness, Castro was left with nowhere else to turn to but East towards the Soviet Union. The Bay of Pigs Invasion was the final straw. Castro had selflessly joined his own soldiers in personally thwarting off that American siege. He returned to Havana a very shaken and changed man. He came to the hard conclusion that democracy would have to wait until the threat of American Imperialism subsided. Sadly this day never came. Cuba joined their allies in the USSR in becoming a stifling state capitalist bureaucracy. The once bright and vivacious Cuban Revolution had been rendered to a permanent warfare state.

This was America's aim all along. The boys in the Beltway decided that if Castro couldn't be bought off or overthrown, he would be pushed by the threat of violence into suffocating his own revolution under a wartime dictatorship of the proletariat, Just as the Bolsheviks had. You see, the Americans didn't fear Castro for his nationalism or his flirtations with socialism or even his close friendships with Marxists like Che. They feared Castro's dream of a a successful anti-capitalist, post-colonial democracy. They were scared shitless of the prospect of Cuba becoming an example of hope to Uncle Sam's other banana republics in the Western Hemisphere and beyond. So they goaded Fidel into sabotaging his own revolution in order to defend his people from a greater tyranny. Tragically, it worked. Sort of.

Cuba's revolutionary democracy may have never came to fruition and the nations savior may have been pushed into the unwanted position of dictator, but Castro refused to let all of the revolutions promises die the same death. In spite of being shackled by the most brutal international blockade in world history, Cuba managed to develop healthcare and education systems that rivaled that of the First World. As illiteracy and infant mortality went the way of the Dodo, Fidel sought to export his nations hard gained bounties. Sending doctors to the poorest parts of the globe and trained revolutionaries to the most oppressed. Castro supported Nelson Mandela's fight for freedom while Washington still backed apartheid. He sent troops to aid Angola in fighting off a South African invasion. He gave a helping hand to the Sandinista's Nicaragua and Maurice Bishop's Grenada when the Soviet Union couldn't be bothered to give a damn. He even offered to send a thousand Cuban doctors to New Orleans after Katrina. Bush said no thanks. He preferred to let poor people drown as long as their floating bodies were black.

Most importantly, though the US succeeded in turning Cuba into a dictatorship, albeit a decidedly benevolent one, they ironically failed to prevent Fidel Castro's greatest threat of a good example. The children of the South, who watched in awe as this bearded mestizo defied the greatest empire on earth, dodging assassination attempts in the hundreds, grew up to lead the kind of revolutionary democracies Castro had failed to create in his own country. Venezuela, Bolivia, Ecuador, Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil. One after another, nearly fifty years after the Cuban Revolution, a Pink Tide of Latin American nations declared their independence peacefully and Democratically from their Northern overlords. In a strange way, Fidel Castro had to sacrifice his own revolution in order to save Latin America from greater American imperial tyranny.

Perhaps inspired by its radical progeny, Cuba didn't turn out so bad either under the circumstances. Decades after the Soviet Union fell, they stand proud. Poor but free, at least from foreign domination. Most countries in the Third World  can't say the same. And they've even come a long way in the formerly dismal department of queer rights. Several years back, Cuba made history by becoming one of the first nations in the Global South to offer free sexual reorientation surgeries for their trans community and has also repealed their deplorable anti-gay laws. Speech is becoming more free, small business is thriving and the dreaded embargo fell before Castro did. Proof positive that it's never to late to change the world and good things can still come to those who go down swinging.

Was Castro a perfect man? No. But he was a courageous leader in the global fight against imperialism until his dying breath. He continues to stand tall as a hero to the poor and oppressed and ignored across the globe, from Columbia to Palestine and even right here in Happy Valley. At a time in my own life when mental illness and gender dysphoria made me a prisoner of my own home, heroes like Che Guevara and Fidel Castro gave me the courage to persevere over the oppression of my own demons. I read volumes about the guerrillas of the Sierra Mastra and it gave me hope, not just for myself but for my own seemingly hopeless country. I may not consider myself to be the hard line Marxist-Leninist that I considered myself to be back then but I will always be a Castroite at heart.

Godspeed Comandante. This is one queer anarchist who salutes you.

Peace, Love and Solidarity- CH

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Trump's Hybrid Moment

"If you're gonna scream, scream with me. Moments like this never last." Those were the first words, lyrics from an old Misfits song, that came crashing through my skull like a Katyusha rocket the moment I learned that our next president would be reality TV rapist and spray-tan enthusiast Donald Trump, followed shortly by "what the fuck?!" I, like most of the rest of the known universe* didn't see this coming. Not that I was hoping for a Killary win, far from it. I've long been one of the few leftists to take the decidedly politically incorrect position that a Trump presidency, while undeniably loathsome, would be far less dangerous than a reign by the self-anointed queen of chaos. But I had prepared for this outcome, both emotionally and pharmaceutically. Shit, I literally swung by my shrink's office on my way to the ballot box to stock up on Valium so I would have something to dull the shrill sound of the victory speech Killary has been rehearsing since preschool.

In case you folks aren't aware, old Comrade Hermit is just a tad bit agoraphobic. Which means I don't exactly handle change very well and as far as change goes, a Donald Trump presidency lands somewhere between an alien invasion and Tupac showing up for Thanksgiving dinner. I'm still not sure how exactly I should feel about all this mass hysteria, about Trump's hybrid moment, the strangest end to the strangest movie I've ever lived. The million dollar question on everybody's lips seems to be, how the fuck did we get here? And more importantly, who do we blame?

The Democrats and their loyal surrogates in the media already have the second part covered. The blame-game has become a cherished pastime for these malignant twats. Every time one of the Dem's sacred cows gets slaughtered in a presidential election they go on a finger-wagging shaming spree, blaming everyone but themselves for their own shortcomings. Naturally, with their queen dethroned by a moron, this year was hardly an exception to the rule.

This year the shouting heads have a veritable rogues gallery of malicious villains to shout about. Blame Wikileaks! They yelp, for picking up the mainstream media's slack and reminding us what real fucking journalism looks like. Blame Jill Stein! For giving lefty-peaceniks like me a non-violent alternative to Trumpizmo. Blame James Comey! For finally caving to feds sick of giving the Clintons a lifetime pass for every fucking crime in the book (before chickening out again, naturally.) And blame Putin! It's always his fault somehow, isn't it? Yeah, that's right shitheads, blame everybody! Everybody but yourselves, that is, for trying to pass a trigger-happy, Wall Street, oligarch off as an agent for desperately needed change.

The stone cold truth of the matter is, and neither side wants to hear this shit but they both need to, Trump didn't win the election, Killary lost. In spite of all the bullshit about Trump's great white surge, Clinton lost the white vote by virtually the same margins that Obama did to Romney in 2012. Trump got 1.5 million fewer votes than the viciously thrashed Mitt-ster, period. This should have been an easy win for the Dems and it would have been with almost any other candidate. But Killary got a whopping 5.4 million fewer votes than Obama did last election. The reason for this is clear, or at least it should be by now. To put it bluntly, the bitch is simply unelectable.

She's unelectable to working class whites who watched her husband sign their futures away to NAFTA. She's unelectable to blacks, five percent fewer voted for her than Obama, who have had to sit through decades of her patronizing pseudo-Baptist revival bullshit while she sold their kids out as "super-predators" to the prison industrial complex. She's unelectable to queer people like me who aren't buying her conveniently timely bromides about tolerance after years of DOMA. She's even unelectable to Trump's favorite scapegoats, Latinos, six percent fewer voting for her majesty than Obama, who, surprise, surprise, were paying attention when the latter wiped his ass with their votes and shipped their loved ones back over the border in record numbers.

When it all comes down to it, in spite of all of Trump's bigoted bullshit, this election wasn't about race or gender or the identity politics that Killary invested as much time into divisively exploiting as her competition did. It was about class and even next to an obnoxious, old money, slime-ball; poor folks could still smell Killary's elitist bullshit from a mile away. Apparently, we're all fucking deplorables now ("Jesus Christ and my mother too!"). So if you're going to blame anyone for this mess, high-holy-liberal-people, try taking a look in the fucking mirror. You blew it, not us.

As much as I may fear and loath the new president elect, a deep, sick, twisted part of me has no choice but to salute this hybrid moment, if for no other reason than that it insures that, after a lifetime of getting away with one crime after another, the last line of Queen Killary's obituary will undoubtedly read, "Finally put out of power by reality TV star." Yes karma certainly is a mean bitch and so am I.

If your gonna scream, scream with me, dearest motherfuckers. Just let me pop a few more pills before we start this terror ride.

* The only person that I know of who even came close to predicting the election results is my friend Tom Knapp over at who called every state that Trump won except for two, back in fucking June and got a mountain of shit for it. Apparently he's some kind of libertarian wizard and he runs the second best blog online.

Peace, Love, Empathy and Anarchy- CH

Thursday, November 3, 2016

The Madness Of The American Way

As I scratch out this latest post on a crumpled piece of white computer paper at my local psych-rehab, it is less than one week until election day and this emotionally unstable blogger is desperately fighting the urge to swallow his/her own tongue. Yes dearest motherfuckers, after what feels like a century in this foul election season, your favorite genderfuck anarxist is finally fucking losing it or at least whatever's left of 'it' to lose. I'm seriously considering upping my Valium dosage, shit, I'll try fucking Thorazine at this point. Anything to calm the demons in my head. Only they're not in my fucking head. Their on my phone and my machine and the radio and YouTube and every motherfucking goddamn TV channel and sweet zombie Christ!

 I feel like Ray Liotta in the last scenes of Goodfellas. Coked up, freaked out, searching for helicopters from my speeding Cadillac as Harry Nilsson caterwauls "We can make each other happy!" in the background. Be cool. Maintain. I can just hear my inner Raul Duke trying to coach me through this hell like a trip sitter preaching the gospel of calm to an audience of jimsonweed addled Mansonites, "Never mind these sick visions of American apocalypse. In spite of the rapidly growing mountain of evidence to the contrary, Helter Skelter is not in fact coming down." Oh but it is Dr. Duke. It most definitely is. And the most fucked up thing about it is that I don't even give a shit anymore. Go ahead and nuke the globe you goddamned oligarchs. Anything to end this fucking circus ride. Cause I just can't fucking do this shit anymore.

I can't watch Donald Trump yelp his way through another white pride rally, denying that he ever fucked that sexy endangered aardvark at the Bronx Zoo. Not because he wouldn't but because his day-glow orange dick is clearly too YUUUUGE! to fit inside that poor, raped to death critter. Plus she was a fatty. Never mind the tiny claw marks on his baby-doll hands. Just focus on the hate speech.

And I can't listen to Killary wretch about James Comey being Putin's latest puppet for committing the high treason of caving to his own agent's refusal to drink another gallon of lukewarm Clinton piss and bury yet another of their skeletons in the fucking basement next to Jimmy Hoffa and J. Edna's evening gowns. As for the latest child prostitute covered in Bill's jizz, well clearly she's also a part of the vast Russian right-wing conspiracy to deny Queen Kill-em-all's coronation. Aren't we all at this point.

And I can't stomach seeing another ostensibly liberal celebrity that I once admired pretend to be inspired by the prospect of voting for America's preeminent neocon chicken-hawk just because she's technically a Democrat and just because she happens to possess a vagina, even if it is loaded with scatter-bombs. If World War 3 is the price trendy people have to pay to break the glass ceiling than so be it. World peace is so 2008 anyway.

And I can't watch the "liberal media" make all of Roger Ailes bullshit lies true by openly campaigning for their beloved Clinton's and against Trump. Not because he's a race-baiting career con-artist or a knuckle-dragging malignant narcissist but because he's committed the unspeakable atrocity of using the podium they gladly gave him (Ratings! Ratings! Ratings!) to suggest MAYBE calling off the new Cold War to make nice with Russia. A crime apparently worse than rape in today's mass media zeitgeist.

And I will literally fucking die if I have to read one more deluded softcore Trump puff piece from my former favorite paleolibertarian muckraker, Justin Raimondo, trying to convince himself as much as anyone else still listening that the Donald is the second coming of the Old Right just because he accidentally sounds vaguely antiwar in every fifteenth sentence he barks out. Apparently even our renegades have gone batshit fucking mad.

I just can't fucking do this anymore. Voter fatigue is one thing but when you mix it with the host of other festering mental ailments I'm already infected with you get something that resembles psychological mustard gas, scarring the lungs of my imagination. What makes it even worse is that regardless of which megalomaniacal psychopath happens to win next Tuesday, they will undoubtedly be the worst president this already wretched nation has ever seen. No matter what there will be more war, more death, more innocent blood drowning the howitzer cracked streets of planet earth's poorest cities. My heart feels like it could vomit hydrochloric acid right now. My brain feels even worse. And of coarse election day has to fall just days after the end of daylight-savings plunges my universe into months of seasonal affective darkness. If this sick fucking charade qualifies as democracy than I have officially had enough of it. It's times like these that made me desperate enough to look towards despots like Castro and Lenin for hope during my youth. And maybe that's the point. The same way that public schools murder free thinking by making "learning" an insufferable chore. The American election season spoils whole generation's appetites for true democracy by turning it into a mental illness. That's the sick, twisted madness of the American way. Is it really any wonder that the majority of Americans don't even fucking bother showing up at the ballot box?

But not this basket case. For me voting amounts to an almost sadomasochistic act of protest. A sort of electoral propaganda of the deed, if you will. The more people that vote for legitimate, renegade, third party candidates, the clearer it becomes to those poor souls who don't vote that the tyranny of the two-party cartel is nothing more than a demented illusion. We can opt out. We can tear it down. So next Tuesday, I aim on dragging my fat fatigued carcass out of bed. Driving down to my designated voting place, in a fag-bashing baptist church, naturally, and voting for Jill Stein and Amaju Baraka and any other third party candidate I can find on the ballot. Then and only then will I return to the relative safety of my basement to pop Benzos, light candles and hyperventilate.

Stay sane if you can, dearest motherfuckers, it's already too late for this twisted bitch but it's not too late to vote for real change. If I can do it, anyone can.

Peace, Love and Empathy- CH

Thursday, October 20, 2016

November 2016: Pick Your Favorite Rapist!

Well dearest motherfuckers, it looks like it's finally all over but the barking. After what felt like a fucking century at the circus, that snarling, rabid, human chow-chow known as Donald Trump finally appears to be fucked beyond all repair or at least on his way to the pound for gassing. And all it took was both major parties and half the fucking media to do it. The final nail in the proverbial coffin? A nauseating 2005 recording of the Donald bragging about his a adventures in unsolicited pussy grabbing to giggling tabloid news gimp Billy Bush, which just happened to hit the news like a goddamn scatter-bomb on the same day Wikileaks was set to drop its latest load of damning information on the Clinton campaign (Coincidence?). What followed, naturally, was a shit storm of epic proportions. At least nine women charging Trump with everything from manic groping (the word octopus will never sound the same) to full-blown rape. While I feel contractually obligated as a feminist, half a woman and a quarter of a descent human being to join this pile on, I feel equally obligated to level the fucking playing field, because, while Killary's fingers may not be grabbing any pussy, they sure as fuck aren't clean.

As the stories of Trump's growing flock of victims began to pile up like Tetras pieces, I couldn't help but feel an uncanny sense of deja-vu. That's because Trumps crimes bare a striking resemblance to the nineties exploits of old Kill-dog's hubby and semi-impeached ex-president Bill Clinton. The harassment, the indecent exposure, the octopus groping, even the rape. All of which was covered up by his supposedly feminist wife, who also lead the campaign to demonize and slander Slick Willy's victims. She even convinced the bastard not to drop out of the '92 election after getting his hand stuck in the cookie jar. All so she could climb the ladder to the Oval Office. The Clinton marriage has always been one of political convenience. Bill's chauvinistic womanizing goes back at least as far as his days as Governor of Arkansas (after Florida, America's second most rape-vibe state). Killary didn't care then and she doesn't care now. That oddly charming, southern fried fuck freak of a husband of hers is nothing more than a bird-brained Clydesdale that Killary expertly used to ride to power.

All of this has been conveniently forgotten by the pillars of moral superiority in the mainstream media, currently sneering at Trump from their high horses for crimes that only earned their precious Bill a couple of cheap laughs for being a fun-loving randy boy. Strangely enough, the only people who seem to be taking Bill's moonlight hobby as a sexual predator seriously are those silicon female chauvinist pigs over at Fox News. Apparently everyone's a fucking feminist when it's convenient for them. It isn't even November and it's feeling like Killary's America already.

Also forgotten by the talking heads of network and cable news is the creepy link between both Bill and Donald's crime spree's and a mysterious billionaire sex-offender named Jeffrey Epstein. Epstein was busted in '08 for running a massive underage sex ring that provided many of America's 1% with a steady flow of underage ass. Epstein also happens to be good friends of both Trump and the Clintons. And both Bill and the Donald are known to be frequent flyers on Epstein's own personal flying brothel, known as the Lolita Express, in spite of the fact that both men already own their own private jets. Epstein has also financed the Clinton Foundation to the tune of millions and was known to instruct his young sex slaves to keep tabs on their johns personal predilections for the purpose of future blackmail. It's little wonder that one of Trump's anonymous accusers is a former Epstein girl.

There is something profoundly rotten about this picture. We don't have all the pieces to this Kafkaesque puzzle yet but it has Killary's signature all over it. The shit just gets stinkier when you read the section of Wikileaks' latest Podesta Files that exposes the Clinton Campaigns strange involvement in secretly supporting Trump's presidential run even before he announced his candidacy. Maybe Killary knew something we didn't. Maybe she pushed a candidate to GOP victory that she already had the dirt to destroy. The only candidate she knew she could beat. I know, I'm starting to sound like Ollie Stone again here but who else but Killary would and could use, not one, but two rapists to guarantee her place in the White House?

Perhaps an even more important question is what kind of a fucking country has this become when both Democratic and Republican candidates can be tied to sexual violence and Jill Stein is still polling in the single fucking digits? What the hell is it going to take you people to grow a pair of fucking ovaries and vote for a real goddamn feminist. But no, you people are slaves to the lesser of two evils. Well you fucking got it. Congratulations. November 2016, ladies and gentleman! Pick your favorite rapist!

Begrudgingly yours,

Peace, Love, Anarchy and Empathy- CH

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Jill Stein: The Rothbardian Candidate

In case you haven't noticed, my political beliefs are kind of all over the fucking map. Most of them seem to fall under the generally anti-statist left-wing umbrella of libertarian socialism but it's a pretty big umbrella. When it comes to philosophy, I turn to Young Marx. However, when it comes to political solutions, more often than not, I turn to Karl's mortal enemy, Mikhail Bakunin. When it comes to big business, I'm a hardcore syndicalist. When it comes to small business, on the other hand, I'm much more of a mutualist. When it comes to big government, I'm definitely a social anarchist. Then again, when it comes to small government, I generally air closer to the side of council communism. But my political influences aren't even relegated solely to the radical left. Over my years of reclusive research, I've pulled inspiration from some pretty odd places, even some elements often considered to be on the radical right.

Sounds scary, right? Well, let me explain. I've always been fascinated by extremes and since middle-school I've considered myself to be a part of the radical left. This dichotomy naturally led me to seek to understand my perceived enemies on the other side. What I found, quite frankly, shocked me. While there certainly existed more than a fair share of malignant fuck-heads, Your Nazi's, your racists, your elitist charlatans and your Christian wack-jobs, there was also a fair share of common ground on the fringes as well. Try as I might, I couldn't help but draw comparisons between thinkers like Oswald Spengler and Karl Marx or tragic heroes like Che Guevara and Yukio Mishima. But my favorite new frenemy was probably right-libertarian iconoclast, Murray Rothbard. Who, in many ways, changed the way I looked at politics completely.

Rothbard was a character after my own heart. An ideological renegade who took great pride in shaking the system and spitting in the eye of doctrinaire orthodoxy in all its many forms. Getting his start as the new voice of the Old Right, Rothbard first broke bad when his beloved Grand Old Party ditched the relatively peaceful isolationism of Taft for the hyper-statist Cold War hawkishness of the Rockefeller's. Rothbard came to the harsh conclusion that the state itself was the problem and that the whole stale left-right paradigm only served to legitimize it. While the rest of his former comrades toasted Tricky-Dick and Victory With Honor, Rothbard was busy breaking bread with their dope-smoking, long-haired enemies in the antiwar movement. Along with his fellow Republican renegade, Karl Hess, Murray sought to build bridges between the disaffected anti-interventionists of the Old Right and the young anti-imperialists of the New Left. Defending the Black Panthers, meeting with members of the Students for a Democratic Society and eulogizing the late Che Guevara after his execution at the hands of the CIA, Rothbard devoted himself entirely to upending every conservative convention that he could get his fucking hands on. I didn't agree with the man on everything, not by a long-shot. But few American wonks remained as consistently antiwar over the decades as Murray Rothbard. During no time was that principled stance more true than during election season and it's Rotbard's basic philosophy on responsible antiwar voting that has had the most lasting impact on my own world view.

The Rothbardian philosophy on voting is basically a sane, moral version of the lesser-evil principle. The notion goes that a true pacifist should vote for the least interventionist candidate available, regardless of their over-all political ideology, because there is no problem more severe than the need for world peace, especially in the belly of the beast of history's deadliest empire. Rothbard believed that the source of all the woes of the state could be traced back to a nations foreign policy. I personally believe in that old Marxist theory that imperialism is the highest and deadliest incarnation of capitalism. Either way, our goal remains the same, Bring peace to the White House by any means necessary, whether that means electing a libertarian or a socialist.

The Rothbardian choice for president has never been easier than it is this year because sadly there is only one anti-interventionist candidate running and that candidate is the Green Party's Jill Stein. As Donald Trump and Killary duke it out over who can be a more repulsive tyrant, even the so-called Libertarian alternative, Gary Johnson, is singing the praises of drone strikes and foreign bases. Regardless of how you feel about Jill Stein's other policies, it is undeniable that she is not only the most anti-interventionist candidate running, she is the ONLY anti-interventionist candidate running. She stands alone in her call for a cut of at least 50% in military spending and shuttering every last American base on foreign soil from Thule to Riyadh. Both Killary and Trump call for drastic increases in military spending and global intervention and Gary Johnson's latest flip-flop has him cutting a measly 20% while continuing support for NATO. The choice is clear. Regardless of whether you consider yourself to be right or left, whether your a Marxist, a libertarian, an anarchist, a conservative or any mix of the above, their remains only one choice for peace. Jill Stein is 2016's Rothbardian candidate and this crazy, mixed-up, radical officially endorses her.

Come together, dearest motherfuckers, right now, over Jill.

Peace, Love, Empathy and Anarchy- CH

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Joe Knew And So Do You!

In a dimly lit room at an undisclosed location, aging soldiers of a shamed and once fearsome army gather in the tacky regalia of their misspent youth and drink to the memory of their long lost fearless leader, a man disgraced by history who's grainy black and white image flickers like an electronic ghost on a nearby wall, ten feet tall. No, these aren't the Boys From Brazil mooning over their dearly departed Hitler. These are wealthy Penn State alumni celebrating the 50th anniversary of their alma mater's appointment of my communities local demigod, Joe Paterno, best known by the sane world outside of this counties confines as the worst rape-appeaser west of Vatican City. But this isn't the sane world folks. This is Happy fucking Valley. The place I call home. And these people aren't Nazi's, their my neighbors.

I wish I could tell you that these kind of sickening displays of affection for the morally derelict are an anomaly here. The campus trustees would surely have you believe this, thus the clandestine nature of the above mentioned creepy little shindig. But it's not. It's been at least forty years since Joe knew and it's been over five since the rest of the Nittany Nation has too and they remain as complacent and undisturbed as their revolting hero. Their are over fifty children who's lives were mercilessly eviscerated by Jerry Sandusky and his willing accomplice Joe Paterno and those are just the ones that we know of. The real victim count is likely much much higher. But the Nittany Nation couldn't fucking care less. Who cares about ass-rape and strangled childhoods when there's football games to be lost to teams with half the funding and a third of the resources as the multi-billion dollar student-debt factory known as Penn State. This is the twisted fucking mindset of your average Nittany Lion who lives in a state of perpetual denial and outright indifference.

According to your average Nittany Lion, JoPa is innocent. In fact JoPa is the real victim here and all the mountains of court documents, eye witness accounts and quote unquote evidence are all just part of a vast conspiracy to destroy dear poor old JoPa and abuse the carefully constructed illusions of his sick little fan-club. The sane world has deemed these pretentious little twats Penn State Truthers and they have made their presence known world wide on the world wide web, trolling every message board from here to Timbuktu  that dares to mention their dear leader's name without licking his crusty nut-sac and often threatening his critics with acts of sexual violence that would get Sandusky hard. Anybody who has had the supreme misfortune of spending more than thirty seconds online with one of these human toilet-bowls has a new appreciation for the revolting level of depraved ignorance that human beings have become capable of in the twilight of our own self-imposed extinction. Try living with these motherfuckers and you'll also have a new appreciation for my festering issues with agoraphobia.

In my savage minds-eye, old Joe became as guilty as Jerry the moment he found out about his grotesque extra-curricular activities and decided to cover them up for sake of his career rather than doing the right thing and calling the fucking cops like any sane person with half a soul to squeeze. And the whole damn Nittany Nation became just as guilty as Joe the moment they decided to ignore and silence the truth about their soiled hero rather than growing the fuck up and excepting the harsh reality that his carefully crafted cult of personality was a fucking lie. You are all complicit! Joe knew and so do you!

Yes, dearest motherfuckers, I live in a community full of collective sex offenders. And people wonder why I'm afraid to leave my fucking house.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

The Rojava Screw-Job

I've never made much of a secret out of my affection for the Kurdish Independence Movement, particularly of the PKK/YPG variety. I've earned something of a reputation on my usual message boards for being their whitest cheerleader. Part of it's political, self-determination and all that shit. But its also become something very personal. Partly because of what I like to call the Irish thing. Coming from a lineage of proud and often doomed struggle against imperial oppression and subjugation has made me into something of a serial fellow traveler with third world independence movements from Gaza to Grozny. But mostly it has to do with the fact that the PKK and their Syrian cousins in the YPG have followed an ideological trajectory that is nearly identical to my own. Over the last couple decades, we have both evolved from garden variety, New Leftish, revolutionary socialism to a kind of post-Marxist anarcho-syndicalism without ever losing our cheeky zeal for radical chic. The Syrian YPG have even managed to construct a successful stateless society that reflects these shared ideals.

From the toxic dust of the American Empires latest Middle Eastern jihad, the YPG have erected the autonomous democratic confederation of Rojava in Syria's north eastern Kurdish region. What began as a basic defense mechanism against the growing genocidal scourge of ISIS has blossomed into a secular, poly-ethnic and self sustainable example of bottom-up, Athenian-style, direct democracy. A true leaderless, borderless society. Proof positive that social anarchism can still work. No gods. No masters. And all of this achieved while leading the regions most successful counter-insurgency against Wahhabist tyranny. For the longest time, support for Rojava was the one thing that most of the major players in the Syrian cluster-fuck could agree on. Over the last couple weeks, however, things have changed. And the rare, hard won good fortune of the Kurds has shifted towards a strange new darkness.

It all seems to have started shortly after the failed July coup attempt in Turkey. A month later nearly to the day, a firefight erupted between the YPG and their supposed allies in a pro-Assad militia in the city of Hasakah which led to the first Syrian Air Force strike against Kurdish forces in the five year history of the war. A week later Turkey invaded Rojava under the guise of fighting their friends in ISIS who turned tail and ran the moment they saw the tanks, without firing more than a handful of bullets. The real target was obviously the YPG and their alleged allies, east and west, didn't seem to give a shit. The US even supplied the Turks with logistical support and just days ago, as I type this, Russia, America and Turkey agreed to a week-long ceasefire to be topped off with unprecedented joint US-Russian operations against ISIS and Al-Nusra. So what the fuck happened? What changed? How did the US, Russia and Turkey all get on the same page? And why did the Kurds get screwed in the process? In order to answer these questions we have to ask ourselves, what do these three countries in this weird new alliance want?

What Turkey wants is pretty simple. It's what they've always wanted. A return to the glory days of the Ottoman Empire. The two biggest obstacles to this goal are the Kurds and the Assad regime. That's why it's little wonder that Turkey and their new Sultan Erdogan have consistently been ISIS and Al-Nusra's best friends in the region. Sending them guns, gas and maniacs and buying their pilfered oil in bulk. All this had put Turkey at odds with Russia and naturally Syria. This all seemed to change shortly after the failed coup against Erdogan which leads us to Russia.

What Russia wants is to avoid the creation of another bottomless vortex of never ending terrorism within shooting distance of their borders. The only way they can achieve this relative peace is to keep the Assad regime in place and destroy the foreign jihadis sent by Uncle Sam and his Gulf buddies to turn the Levant into a smoking ash heap. Russia has been pretty successful at doing this so far with their loose coalition of Syria, Iran, Iraq, Hezbollah and the Kurds. But as long as Turkey remains committed to the overthrow of Assad there will always be a permanent flow of armed Wahhabists spilling over the border to unleash holy fucking hell. Russia was left with only two options, beat em or join em. And since Putin doesn't share America's lust for endless war, they were left with no choice but to find a way to rope Turkey into their orbit. This is where the failed Turkish coup comes into play.

The attempt to overthrow Sultan Erdogan lasted less than 24 hours and was basically squashed before it had even begun. What followed was Erdogan's self-proclaimed "gift from god". A massive purge of tens of thousands of the Sultan's biggest critics in the government, military and judiciary. As well as the evisceration of the last feeble vestiges of Turkey's so-called democracy. What also followed was a very public break-up between Erdogan's Turkey and their alleged NATO allies in Obama's Washington and a previously unthinkable reconciliation with Putin's Moscow. What appears to have happened is that Russian intelligence caught wind of an American backed plot against Erdogan, hardly unusual, historically speaking, and tipped the strongman off in advance in order to pull Washington's favorite Sultan into the Kremlin's tent. What likely transpired next was a Faustian bargain of sorts. Erdogan would thank Putin for the heads up by laying off Assad and Putin would return the favor by keeping his hands in his pockets while Erdogan rips Rojava to fucking ribbons. And how does America play into all this? I'll tell you my theory.

What America wanted from Syria was an oil pipeline to undercut Russia's burgeoning integration with Europe. When Assad shot this idea down, America wanted Assad gone and was willing to do just about anything to make it happen. They tried arming rebels including the Kurds as well as terrorists (with the exception of the Kurds, there was hardly a difference between the two). They even tried blaming Assad for these same terrorist's poison gas attacks in order to justify an American invasion. But Putin outsmarted them every step of the way with better rebels, popular peace deals and successful interventions. America's last hope became using their partners in crime, the Turks, to launch the NATO backed intervention that they couldn't get away with doing themselves and maintain an indefinite no-fly-zone from which to launch a never ending barrage of jihadist mayhem into Syria and eventually, in time, an American invasion to clean up the mess once the world becomes frightened enough to let them get away with it. There were only two problems with this devilish little plot. Turkey didn't have the guts or the firepower to take on Russia, who stood between them and Syria, and they didn't have the support from their own military to launch a Yankee proxy war.

I believe America solved the first problem by using their old buddies, the Gulenists, to launch a purposely doomed and half-assed coup, with Erdogan's full approval, right under the noses of Russian intelligence. Thus giving Putin the opportunity to play the hero and Erdogan the opportunity to play the spurred former allie desperate to make a deal and find a new pappa bear to protect his crumbling fiefdom. All this gave Putin the false impression of having the upper hand and convinced him to make a previously unthinkable concession to his former enemy by unofficially green-lighting a Turkish invasion as long as it ended with Rojava. And just like that Putin fed the Kurds to the treads of Ottoman tanks.

This brings us to what I believe was America's solution to the second problem. With the powerful Turkish Army unwilling to fight their brothers in ISIS or the Russian backed Syrians, a scapegoat was needed and in Turkey their is know better scapegoat than those dastardly, unruly Kurds. So what does America do? They back the Kurds of coarse. Supplying the YPG with guns, air power and even Green Berets. As the territory held by Rojava spread, so did the anti-Kurdish anxiety among the Turkish military elite. By the time the YPG was given the green-light by the US to cross the Euphrates, Turkey had been given the green-light by Russia to invade. It was a fucking set-up from the drop and the Kurds never saw it coming.

The Kurds biggest flaw has always been their seemingly boundless faith in the myth of America as the savior of oppressed peoples. No matter how many times we screw them, they just keep coming back for more abuse like a battered spouse loyal to lover-boy till the bloody end. I'll never understand it. It's as if they were all raised on a steady diet of Sodium Pentothal and John Wayne movies. They still buy into that old post-World War legend of the indispensable America. The America without sin. None other than the late, great Ho Chi Minh once shared this same delusion. Sending Eisenhower opium peace pipes while he sent him agent orange and erecting shrines to the Founding Fathers who would have treated him like a mutt. But Ho finally woke up and grew up. Realizing that Russia would always make a more dependable allie because they knew the taste of Uncle Sams jack boot. He lead his people to freedom. I had long hoped that the Kurds would do the same. That the combination of Vladimir Putin's pragmatism and Abdullah Ocalan's idealism would prove to be the perfect cure for the Middle East's endless woes. Perhaps I was being as foolish as my friends the Kurds. But so is Putin if he believes that he'll ever be able to trust Erdogan and his fellow revanchist barbarians. He had a rare opportunity to win over the most fiercely loyal warriors in the Middle East and he fucking blew it. My admiration for the man has taken a serious blow in the process. I guess the Kurds didn't count as much as the Crimean's or the Abkhazian's. Oh well, Fuck him. My Irish heart will continue to beat for Rojava in spite of my Russian soul. I guess it just goes to show that the only nations you can ever truly rely on are the ones without leaders.

Peace, Love, Empathy and Anarchy- CH

Friday, September 2, 2016

My Shitlist 2016

About a year ago I penned a raucus little rant-page called My Shit List. Goddamn, it seems like it's been so much longer then that. It was basecally a list of the people who happened to be pissing me off most at that moment. It wasn't exactly my best work but I had a lot of fun writing it and I always intended it to be an anual thing. I figure now, amidst my late election season malaise, is as good a time as any. As with the last Shit List, I don't discriminate and I don't pull punches. I'm an equal opportunity bitch. I'm gonna say some mean but very necessary things about all kinds of fucking people, some of them you may hate as much as I do but you're probably just as likely to find someone you like or even admire below and you're gonna get offended and you're not gonna like it and you're not gonna like me and I'm not gonna give a fuck but that doesn't mean I don't like you. Any asshole can tell you what you wan't to hear. It takes a real friend to tell you your god is a cunt. So try to keep that in mind as I burn the dozen or so cunts bellow a new asshole. I hurt you because I love you dearest motherfuckers and it hurts me a lot more than it hurts you. If you cetch me smilling it's only because I'm a bit of a sadomasochist.

Donald Trump & Bernie Sanders-  I'm not putting these two shits together because they represent the same thing. No way, fuck that tired anti-populist cliche. I put Bernie and the Donald at the top of this list because they EXPLOIT the same damn thing for all the wrong reasons. People in this country are pissed and they have every fucking right to be. They've been fucking corn-holed three ways to Sunday by both major parties, who have spent decades feeding them lies and false hope while they send their jobs to third world sweatshops and their sons and daughters to die in third world quagmires. It's about damn time they fucking pushed back. It's just a crying shame that they chose to do so with a phony socialist sell-out and a two-bit con man with a flea-bit hair-piece. Fuck em both, America. You can do so much better.

Trevor Noah-  When I first learned that Jon Stewart was calling it quits last year and leaving his post at the Daily Show, I was heartbroken. When I first learned that his replacement wasn't the obvious choice, Samantha Bee, or the dangerous choice, Vanessa Williams, but some South African, pretty-boy, meatball surgeon named Trevor Noah, I was furious. But I bit my tongue and counted to ten and decided to give the fucker a shot. I shouldn't have. He fucking blew it. He's not the worse comedian in the world, at least not as long as Dane Cook is still alive, but he's got no fucking heart. Which is what made Stewart so brilliant. He also has no fucking brains. Which he made painfully obvious one day into his coverage of the Democratic National Convention when he all but endorsed Killary and forfeited an entire weeks worth of top shelf comedy material to tired Trump burns and limp wristed "laughing with her" jostling. Way to let us down Trevor. You might as well just spit in Jon's fucking face.

Gary Johnson-  Just like Trevor, I wanted to like this guy, I really did. But much like his fellow pseudo-libertarian, Rand Paul, he made this task impossible by becoming a careerist, flip-flopping, chicken-shit. In order to wack off the Never-Trumpers and hustle massive cabbage from those Randian oligarchs, the Koch Brothers, Gary remade himself as the official unofficial pro-war antiwar candidate. First he's for the Iran peace deal, then he's against it, then his for it again but only if we hold on to Tehran's frozen bank accounts because grand theft is so free market, apparently. First he supports drone strikes, then he doesn't, then he does, sort of but not really but fuck you, whatever. Last week he wants to cut military spending by 43%. This week it's 20. Next week, who knows, maybe he'll be naming new battleships after Bob Marley songs and Kush strains. Is this the "new" Libertarian Party I keep hearing about? Because I'm not impressed. If I wanted to vote for a watered down, pot smoking Republican I'd vote for Bill Clinton. Then I'd shoot myself.

John Cena-  In my last Shit List I came out of the closet as a lifelong wrestling fan which was only slightly easier than admitting my occasional desire to have a cunt. I did so to trash wrestling's greatest asshole, Hulk Hogan. So this time around I figured I'd gun for his successor, John Cena. Vince Mcmahon's homo-erotic Ideal for the quasi-Nietzschean New Superstar. Roid juiced muscles? Check. Neckless head stump? Check. Knee-jerk nationalist pomp? Check. Nearly non-existent skill-set? Check. Marky-Mark style black culture appropriation? Check. Shameless marketing to children under the guise of "family friendly" heroism? Oh that's a big fucking check. Yep, I'm pretty sure that's everything it takes to be a modern day Hulk Hogan. Now just add a rapidly receding hairline and a dash of racism and your set. You're the ultimate sports entertainment douche-bag. Now go out and give someone brain damage (preferably yourself) you big dumb piece of meat. Can you see that asshole? Or should I repeat myself. (Sigh) god I miss ECW.

Paul Kagame-  Every neoliberal's favorite African dictator. Paul is probably best known as the rebel Tutsi savior of the Rwandan Genocide. The harsh reality is that their are probably few people more responsible for that tragedy than good old Paul himself, who led a CIA backed Ugandan invasion of his home country in 1990 and spent the next four hellish years slaughtering and torturing the nations long oppressed majority, known as the Hutus, until they finally snapped in '94 with Kagame's assassination of the Hutu presidents of both Rwanda and neighboring Burundi by shooting down their plane. That is when the genocide began and it wasn't just merciless Hutu's killing defenseless Tutsi's. It went both ways, with Kagame himself taking part in his share of the madness. But once the dust settled and CNN got control of the narrative the picture became childishly black and white- Hutus bad- Tutsis good- and Paul Kagame became the heroic president for life. And Paul hasn't exactly mellowed with age. He's spent the better part of the 90's and 2000's cultivating the endless chaos in the Congo, adding a few million to his already staggering body-count and he seems to have his eye on mineral-rich little Burundi next. No wonder he's one of the top recipients of US aid in the dark continent. It doesn't get much darker or more American than that.

Gloria Steinem-  All hail the queen of mainstream liberal feminism, a stuck-up, hypocritical, demagogic, bigot who we must all bow to or be banned forever from the kingdom of equality over which she reigns supreme. Gloria first dug out a groovy little niche for herself as the photogenic poster girl for Second Wave Feminism. She didn't waste much time before using her newfound limelight to disgrace her own cause. The first sign of the growing hypocrisy of Gloria's megalomania reared it's ugly head at the '72 Democratic National Convention where she threw her alleged comrade in arms, Shirley Chisholm under the fucking bus in order to earn a plush spot on McGovern's doomed campaign team. From here Gloria would go on to build the National Women's Political Caucus and Ms. Magazine. She also went on to bash trans-women, sex workers and anyone else who didn't conform to her shallow perception of feminism including female supporters of Bernie Sanders whom she all but deemed defacto sluts for not backing her foul little bestie and fellow feminist exploitation expert, Killary Clinton. Gloria, sister, coming from one feminist to another, go fuck yourself.

Dennis Leary-  I can basically sum up my feelings for this piece of shit in just two short words- JOKE THIEF. Dennis Leary built a multi-million dollar comedy career on ripping off the material and persona of the greatest stand-up comedian since Lenny Bruce, Bill Hicks, a man who use to be his friend. A man who went to his death bed watching his former friend use his life's work to sell-out to MTV for a gimmick. And as if that wasn't enough he went on to rip off the greatest comedian since Hicks, Louis CK to create his hit comedy jam "Asshole". You know what Dennis, you earned that last one. You really are a fucking asshole.

Alan Dershowitz-  You probably know him as a member of OJ's Dream Team. Geeks like me know him as the worlds most litigious plagiarist (think Dennis Leary with tenure.) The only thing Harvard Law professor Alan Dershowitz hates more than innocent Palestinian children and decapitated blondes are fellow members of the tribe who not only condemn his racist brand of apartheid apology but also point out the blatantly half-assed plagiarism he uses to defend it. The Dersh-bags solution to this particular Jewish problem is to use his Ivy League cache to demolish these men's careers. Sometimes he succeeds (poor Norman Finkelstein), sometimes he fails (lucky Noam Chomsky) but either way he damages the very real plight of his people by using their memory to bolster his own morally and academically derelict behavior.

Caitlyn Jenner-  Now what kind of self-respecting bitch would I be if I didn't include one of my own on this list. First and foremost, I must recite what has become the new tranny mantra- I, Comrade Hermit, gendefuck man-dyke, do solemnly swear that I respect and admire Caitlyn Jenner and what she represents as far as normalizing relations between my people and the hate-fucks. -With that being said, I also happen to think that Caitlyn is a pompous, sexist, elitist cunt and the strange timing of her coming out has a lot to do with that. Back when Caitlyn still went by Bruce she mowed down a 69 year old animal rights activist named Kim Howe with her SUV in what looked suspiciously like a texting and driving wreck. The very next month, mere weeks after the incident, Caitlyn came out and suddenly the narrative shifted from "Bruce the granny killer" to "Caitlyn the hero". I'm not suggesting that Caitlyn's whole transition is a fucking hoax. She had been visibly going through hormone therapy for years before this incident. So why then did she choose to officially come out with the pigs hot on her trail, which is usually a particularly hostile place for a trans-person to be in. My theory is that that is exactly why she choose then and there to come out. She flipped a coin on America's tolerance and she flipped the fucking script on the LAPD by daring them to reveal their ignorance and become the police force that bashes the worlds most famous trans-woman by performing the all too common heterosexist practice of tossing a woman into a men's prison and it worked. In February Caitlyn killed a woman. In April she came out. And by June the cops tossed the charges. Game, set, match, Caitlyn. I guess it goes to show, you can take the girl out of the Kardashians but you can't take the Kardashian out of the girl. And I know what some of you are going to say, "But Comrade, she's soooooo inspiring!" Too that I'll quote someone who became one of my own early female role-models with her part as foal-mouthed Amy Blue in the 90's cult gem The Doom Generation, one Rose McGowan who said of dear, inspiring Caite, "Being trans doesn't make one immune from criticism." Thank you Rose. Amy Blue couldn't have put it better herself.

John Lewis-  From one sacred cow to the next. No one on this list has fallen farther than John Lewis, a legit civil rights superstar-cum-congressman who headed up the righteously radical SNCC and got his noggin cracked with MLK during the struggle for voting rights in the height of the sixties Dixie darkness. Sadly, like all too many radical sixties heroes, John went on to go the way of the Clintons, riding up the Washington yuppie-gulch to become a loyal apparatchik for the Democratic Party, often using his well earned historical cache to legitimize an organization who's true dedication to the black community hasn't evolved much since the days of Strom Thurmond. Don't tell them that, of coarse. They still suffer under the delusion that PC lip service equals social justice. John's less than secret legacy as a putrid sell-out has never been more brazenly obvious than it was this summer when Lewis led his putrid sell-out  party in a phony sit-in on the Capitol floor in protest of the GOP's refusal to vote on a bill that robs people of their Second Amendment rights based on the fascist Bush era No-Fly-List which reduces the very premise of Habeas Corpus to toilet paper. All for a chicken-shit, popcorn headline during an election year. And that's not even the worst part. The real fucking kicker is that Lewis himself had been a target of the tyranny of the No-Fly-List and it took him, a veteran congressman and self-proclaimed pacifist, months to get off it. One wonders what Dr. King would make of his former comrade now, as he uses and abuses the memory of the movement he died for to deprive others of their own civil rights. I imagine he probably wouldn't say a word to Brother Lewis. He'd simply turn his back to him and walk away, shaking his head in disgrace.

Bono-  If you ask any random working-class Irishman, from Dublin to Belfast, what they think of Bono, their countries favorite son, They'll tell you straight up with a snort and a scoff, "What fuck'n wanker!" So what do my ancestral countrymen know that the rest of the world apparently doesn't. To put it bluntly, maybe they can smell his fucking ego from the Netherlands where he chose to hide his money to dodge the Emerald Isles taxes during it's worst financial crisis in generations. While every Pat, Tom and other Pat was losing their fucking shirts to the bursting Irish corporate bubble that Bono so vocally championed, the fair-weather patriot was too busy burying his Euro's between the windmills to give a fuck. Or maybe it's his paternalistic treatment of Africa, which he insists on saving, as cameras blaze, by making the continent dependent on white charity from the very oligarchs who rape them blind of the resources that could grant them true independence. But then who would Bono use for props to prove his messianic awesomeness to the waiting world? Or maybe it's just the fact that the shithead hasn't released a halfway listenable album in over twenty years yet he still has the fucking nerve to team up with Apple to force albums down non-consenting iTunes users fucking throats in a faux-punk stunt that earned him and his band mates over 50 mil. But if you ask me it's all of the above. I think the gross spectacle of Bono can best be summed up with a popular Irish joke- "What's the difference between Bono and Jesus Christ? Jesus Christ doesn't run around Dublin telling everyone he's Bono."

Jay Z & Beyonce-  Jay got his start slinging rocks to his people in the hood. Now he slings moronic, sexist and materialistic crap to the wrest of the world. I'm not sure which is worse but both pale in comparison to his sickening response to Harry Belafonte's righteous complaint about Jay and Bey's total lack of interest in giving back to the black community. And I quote- "My presence is charity. Just who I am. Just like Obama's. Obama provides hope", Spoken like Nino Brown. BTW Jay, Obeezy also provides drone strikes to all his Africans back in Somalia, but I digress. In spite of Jay's little hissy-fit, the power couple soon began making quite a show dolling out the bucks to save face. I guess Black Lives Matter couldn't write a check with Jay and Bey's "presence". Beyonce earned her own place on this list by pimping out the Black Panthers to sell records with the inspiring message that institutional racism can be cured by "making that paper". Somehow, I don't think that's what Huey Newton had in mind. A power couple indeed. Fuck em both.

Killary Clinton-  Just like my last Shit List, this one wasn't written in any particular order. But I always save the worst for last. Last year the worst was celebrated Satan impersonator and real life Sith Lord, Dick Cheney. So I figured it was only fitting that this years bottom bitch be old Dick's female counterpart, Madame Secretary Hillary "Killary" Clinton. What can I say about this femonster that I haven't already said a million fucking times? She's a back stabbing, black pandering, tax evading, money grubbing, war mongering, welfare cutting, prison building, coupe throwing, email hiding, Qaddafi killing, Bernie fucking, Putin blaming, blood drinking, baby eating cunt with a capital C and worst of all she's probably our next President and we're all totally fucked. Oh well, I guess every Raul Duke needs his/her Dick Nixon to troll and I plan on giving mine holy hell over the next four to (gulp!) eight years. Here's hoping I make it to the bottom of her own Shit List. I couldn't think of a greater honor.

Stay angry dearest motherfuckers.

Peace/Love/Empathy & Anarchy- CH

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Turn and Face the Strange

I don't usually do this, mostly because I don't usually give a fuck, but this week I feel it necessary to warn the few dearest motherfuckers who haunt this blog that some of the things that I am about to say are a bit shocking even for me. Like I said, I usually don't give a fuck, but seeing as I have family who read this site, I thought I owed them a fair warning. Don't worry, I'm not a serial killer or a Trump supporter or anything heinous like that. I just thought you deserved a warning because shit is about to get unprecedentedly weird. Anyway, you've been warned, so no bellyaching in the Christmas letters.

OK, with that being said, lets rip the fucking band-aid off this bitch....

Sometimes....     I wish I had a vagina. There, I fucking said it and I'm not talking about other peoples pussy, because I'm always down with that (Yeah!youknowme!) I'm talking me, myself and I, minus a pole and plus a hole. The professionals call this phenomena gender dysphoria but I prefer to call it pussy envy, a kind of aching, overarching feeling of disconnection with my own genitalia. But, and with me there's always a but, I'm not trans. OK now your more confused than I am. Maybe I should start over.

In a past post, one of my personal favorite posts, I came out as a queer heterosexual. While not a lie this wasn't quite the whole truth either. But I needed to be openly queer before I could be 100% honest about my gender identity, not just with the few people in my life but with myself as well. I know this is such a fucking queer cliche but I really did need to feel safe. You see, dearest motherfuckers, your old frenemy Comrade Hermit is genderqueer, gender fluid to be exact which basically means that my gender identity exists and shifts and changes somewhere between the male/female binary. Not quite male. Not quite female.

It took me years to figure this out. I spent a good portion of my life assuming I was male, the gender assigned to me at birth, but I never felt quite normal. I spent most of my teens and twenties going through intermittent identity crises, wondering to myself if I could be transgender and then ultimately coming to the same conclusion over and over again. That in spite of these alien feelings, I definitely wasn't a woman so I must just be some kind of weird, mixed-up male. That is until I discovered that there was more than two options. When I first read about the phenomena of gender fluidity I knew that that must be where I fit in. The only problem was I didn't quite fit in.

The description fit the way I feel like a glove but as I searched the net, I couldn't find anyone quite like me. All the other gender fluid people that I came across were flamboyantly androgynous, bold and beautiful people that expressed elements of both traditional genders and everything in between. I found there fierce, visual androgyny refreshing but it wasn't quite me. While a part of me is very much female, I've never felt a great need to express my femininity in any of the traditional ways. I like to dress simple and casual and I love my beard. I just think it might go better with a cunt than a cock. It's little wonder I've long felt a deep kinship with bearded ladies, trans-men and bull dykes. I always felt more like a manly bitch than a girly man and this left me feeling out of place even within my own new found community. It made me feel guilty, like I was some kind of traitor or phony or something.

But why the fuck should I? Why should any of us feel guilty for who we really are just because we don't fit into some kind of fucking stereotype. Isn't that the whole point of being queer, not having to follow these stupid fucking rules? But somehow that's what a broad cross section of the LGBTQ community has become, a nasty, cliquish sect of stuck-up, assimilationist snobs protecting their newfound privilege as a politically correct minority by enforcing there own slightly tweaked version of the same damn set of stupid fucking rules. Telling bisexuals to pick a hole to fuck. Telling genderqueer people to pick a gender to conform to. And telling us all to fucking tone it down so we can earn favor with the straight world that we use to reject. Well let me go on the fucking record by saying fuck that shit! this isn't what those fierce queens at Stonewall bloodied there fists for. Queer liberation doesn't come with a government stamp of approval and it doesn't play by anyone's fucking rules, not even it's own. I didn't wait 28 goddamn years to come out of the closet just so I could step into a new one draped in rainbows.

I made a promise to myself this year after we lost one of my heroes, David Bowie, that I would take his advice to courageously turn and face the strange no matter where that strange takes me.

So I'll say it again, loud and clear, bold and queer, I Comrade Hermit, sloppy, bearded, commie anarchist, sometimes wish I had a vagina. And I'm not a queer heterosexual. I'm a genderqueer bull dyke and don't you fucking forget it. Don't get me wrong I'm not about to go full castrato. Bottom surgery costs out the ass and hurts like a fucking bitch. Not mention that most girls who dig beards also dig dick. But if we're talking about magic genie scenarios here, my second wish is probably going to be a cooch, right between world peace and a three-way scissor fight with Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman. What? just because I want a cunt doesn't mean I'm still not half guy. Drown me.

Turn and face the strange, dearest motherfuckers, turn and face the strange.

Peace, Love, Empathy and Anarchy- CH

Thursday, August 4, 2016

The Dog Days of Trump

I've never really bought into the whole "liberal media" conspiracy theory. It's always struck me as a shrewd marketing campaign to wrangle terrified geriatrics for Rupert Murdoch's ratings and ex-Dallas cheerleaders for Roger Aile's bottle blonde harem of unwilling victims. That's not to say I buy into the equally ludicrous theory of the hardworking, hardscrabble, unbiased media. No, that farce only exists in star-studded, Hollywood, Oscar shoe-ins and in the colossal egos of Robert Redford wanna-be's like Chris Mathews and Charlie Rose. The real media bias has always had more to do with big business than partisan bullshit. Even in the most heated presidential races over the past half-century, the big networks may have had there favorites but they always seemed to give more than enough neutral air time to both major party blowhards. That is until the dog days of 2016, the dog days of Trump.

The hysteria started to really take off at the beginning of the Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia, when those fantastic folks at Wikileaks released a treasure trove of damning information that proved what most of us have already strongly suspected. The documents, which Wikileaks received from an anonymous source with the fabulous nom de guerre Guccifer (has to be queer), revealed the full extent of the Democratic National Committee's collaboration with Madame Killary's campaign to nip Bernie in the bud. The leak was particularly damning to DNC head and Sandernista hate-throb, Debbie Wasserman Schultz, who's comments included suggestions to use lingering American bigotry against Bernie's alleged atheism against him. Schultz complicity was made all the more garish when her morally derelict behavior was rewarded with a cushy position in Killary's campaign the moment she was fired from the DNC.

All of this mess should have damned Killary's Philly coronation to PR clusterfuck status. But the news was barely a day old when the queen of mean took a bad song and made it better. Without anything even resembling verifiable proof, Killary announced that the leak was the work of Putin's Russia, in a dastardly conspiracy to deny her her god given right to the throne. As if this load wasn't vile enough, the former First Lady then suggested that Trump's whole damn campaign was part of this convoluted Kremlin plot. Even when compared to some of Trump's zaniest racist conspiracy theories, this has to be, by-far the looniest fucking campaign accusation since JFK was accused of being the Popes personal odalisque. But the fine, hardworking folk who populate the bullpens of the network newsphere gobbled this load whole and spit it back out verbatim, word for word, like a propaganda snowball, as if it had come from the cock of god himself. No questions asked and not even a pinch of skepticism. And just like that (SNAP!), a totally legit Killary scandal became a completely facetious Trump/Putin scandal.

This probably shouldn't come as much of a surprise, considering that these same people have had it in for Russia since it became clear, well over a decade ago, that Putin wasn't about to bend over and take it like Yeltsin. Since then, America and it's business partners in the Filth Estate have launched an all-out assault against the Kremlin that has included everything from overthrowing the democratically elected governments of it's neighbors to accusing them of launching fabricated, full-scale invasions of those neighbors when Putin refused to take the bait and retaliate. This campaign of chaos and deception has been described by many as the New Cold War. Which would be accurate if the old one had ever actually ended.

The Cold War began in 1917 when the Bolsheviks overthrew the western client state of the Czar. The US and it's allies retaliated by supplementing the remaining Czarist's White Terror with a force of over thirty-thousand American, French and English troops, fresh from the trenches of World War 1. This succeeded in achieving nothing but transforming a popular socialist experiment into a blood drenched, permanent warfare state, paving the way for the rise of Stalin. The Cold War entered it's second stage when Truman dropped two nukes on a defeated, white-flag waving Japan in order to send a message to Stalin, who was still basking in the unexpected triumph of his victory over Hitler, that we were in charge now. What followed was more than forty years of terrorism, sabotage and proxy wars which only ended when the USSR finally ran out of gas (an inevitability since Stalin shelved Lenin's New Economic Program) and fell apart in 1991. The third and stealthiest stage of the Cold War was waged largely from within the new Russian Federation by our drunken tool, Boris Yeltsin who attempted to subjugate his own nation with an American designed campaign of economic warfare known as shock capitalism, all topped off with the rapacious post-Soviet expanse of NATO to the motherlands doorsteps.

The fourth and current phase of America's longest war has been the war on Putin and, with the rise of Killary towards her lifelong destination on Pennsylvania Avenue, it has been pushed farther than it's been since the halcyon days of the Red Scare and the Cuban Missile Crisis and the sickest part about this is that the New McCarthyites are the same Baby-Boomers who routinely cream themselves over Edward R. Murrow's grave. Black is white. Up is down. Yesterdays flower children are today's Birchers and there first high profile victim is none other than Donald Trump.

Trump may not be a fucking pacifist or even a half-descent human being but much like Kennedy in the twilight of Camelot, he's one overprivileged imperialist who sees the common sense in detente and this alone makes him dangerous to the system. That is why, more than any other major party candidate in my lifetime, the media has declared Trump persona non grata and launched a relentless, one sided multi-media campaign to destroy a clown they created, now that his pranks aren't funny anymore.

I didn't have an easy time deciding to write this post (what else is new, right?) I despise Trump and everything he fucking stands for. I despise his racism. I despise his dishonesty. I despise his greed, sexism, Islamaphobia and total lack of respect for basic constitutional rights and human dignity. But those aren't the reasons the mainstream media has decided to declare total war on Trump, though I'm sure that's what they tell themselves in the mirror everyday. They've unleashed the fucking hounds because of the one thing this bastard got right, the basic fact that Putin and Russia are not America's enemies. If I didn't speak out now, just because I share a target with these assholes, then what kind of fucking journalist would I be. They may be going after the Trumpsters today but who knows who it could be tomorrow, the Libertarians? Black Lives Matter? Genderqueer agoraphobic anarcho-Marxist bloggers?

And to all the self-proclaimed liberal progressives reading this latest rant in horror, I ask of you just one thing, WWERND? What would Edward R. Murrow do?

Peace, Love and Empathy- CH

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Trump V. Killary: A Tale of Two Evils

Well, dearest motherfuckers, it looks like it's official, what with Bernie's inevitable return to the feet of his DNC masters like a purring cat and the Republicans finally, reluctantly, swallowing the cyanide forced into there mouths by there own, long abused, electorate with the rapacious zeal of a prison bitch who's finally turned the table on his tormentors, 2016 will undeniably go down in history as the most repulsive display of defunct democracy in this unholy empire's history.

2016 is the year that this damnable nations two largest (and, naturally, most damnable) political parties has chosen the two worst human beings on earth to run for the presidency. In an age of apocalyptic upheaval, when leadership of any kind is more desperately needed than lead-free water, our choices for leader of the "free" universe come down to Donald Trump and Hillary (Killary) Clinton. A mobbed up, neonazi, snake-oil slinger and a sociopathic, body stacking, post-feminist, murder machine. This is what it comes down to? This is democracy?

Of coarse, as I've been desperately struggling to drill into you fine folks numb skulls for what feels like a millennia, there are, in fact, more than two fucking choices. In most states there's at least four. Aside from carpet-head and the dragon lady, there's Gary Johnson for the Libertarian Party and my personal favorite, Jill Stein for the Green Party. While these two candidates are far from perfect (Still miss you Ralph) they beat the ever-loving Christ out of the other two options.

But, for the sake of argument, I'll play dumb like the rest of the country and pretend our only two options are the toxic twins of eternal chaos. In which case this election becomes a game of; who do you hate? Which is worse? Which ego-drunk, wanna-be tyrant scares you less? Or, as this twisted national pass-time is more commonly known; who is the lesser of two evils?

So who's worse, the Donald or Killary? The choice should be obvious, right? The slumlord. The con-man. The proudly racist Butthole Birther who barks, cheerfully, about torturing civilians and ethnically cleansing the Southwest of anything browner then a bleached tube-sock. When it all comes down to the wire, as scandalously deceitful and shamelessly plutocratic as Madame Killary might be, Donald Trunp has to take the cake, right? I mean, shit, even my childhood mentors Noam Chomsky and Courtney Love have come to this conclusion and I, myself, on this very blog, have accused the Trumpster fire of being everything from a Killary puppet to the veritable reincarnation of Benito Mussolini. OK ,if your still with me here,  you've probably realized I'm doing a bit here. So I'll cut the shit and rip the needle off the record right now. Trump maybe a lot of gross things, racist, sexist, homophobic, Islamophobic, repulsive, tasteless, incestuous, verbally incontinent, morally retarded. Sure, sure, he's all that shit and then some but one thing the Donald is not, at least not this year, is the worse of two evils. Not with Killary still breathing gasoline.

Don't get me wrong, this motherfucker is dangerous. What he appears to represent is not only a rejection of the status quo (hardly a sin) but an embrace of the same racial scapegoating and chest-thumping glorification of state power that plagued the dying empires of Old Europe between World Wars. Yes, Trump may indeed be a new breed of fascist or at least so it seems to the naked eye on first glance but upon inspecting the Donald more closely, under glass, after scratching off a layer or two of noxious, pseudo-populist Cheeto dust, it becomes readily apparent that Trump is something far less terrifying. He's a fraud. A flim-flam artist in the first degree and this whole damn election has just been one big, long grift. That's why his campaign engine is held together with pantyhose and running on empty. That's why his rallies, in between the race-baiting violence, play like a bad late-night infomercial with Donald playing the part of the solicitous televangelist, slinging his ghost-written self-help books and holy water like rock cocaine at a Detroit swap meet. That's why this motherfucker has no discernibly consistent policy on anything.

But, once again, lets play dumb and pretend that Trump believes a goddamn word that passes through his slimy, jacked, lizard lips. Lets say the Donald really does want to pack all the Mexicans into a south bound train, build a Great Wall of Trump on the Rio Grande and launch drone strikes against all the girls who wouldn't blow him in high school. Hows he gonna do it? Who in his or her right mind is going to take orders from this ginger rodeo clown? The Pentagon? Congress? The Supreme court? I don't think so. They'd laugh in his fucking face just like those girls in high school. But the Commander-in-Trump demands it! Him and what fucking army. Who's really got the Donald's back aside from a drunken brood of inbred hicks and a mish-mosh of D-list celebrity has-bins. In spite of his bluster and bullshit bravado, Trump has no friends in high places. No high-powered industrialists or four-star generals to give his Fourth-Reich teeth. Hitler and Mussolini didn't act solo. They were well connected and even better organized. Trump is neither.

 In all likelihood, a Trump presidency will be the most feckless, uneventful, one-term snoozefest this country has ever seen. The Donald will make scandalous pronouncements. No one but the turkey-vultures in the media will listen. The Donald will have a hissy-fit and the American people will be treated to a front row display of exactly how powerless the president really is. Trump's best hope is to pull an Obama and hand the reigns of power over to the leadership of his party but Trump won't do that. His colossal ego won't allow him to. A Trump presidency will likely serve as nothing more than yet another epic failure in the career of a life-long loser. The same, sadly, can not be said for the queen of chaos, Killary Clinton.

Killary knows exactly what she's going to do and she knows exactly how she's going to do it. She's going to further her lifelong mission of guaranteeing America's domination of the known fucking universe and if her long career of grossly over-trumpeted achievements is any indication, we're in for a bumpy ride. This is the same woman who micromanaged her husbands brutal bombing campaign on Kosovo, all in the name of a genocide that never happened and all to deplete Russia of its last Allie in the region with the end result being the creation of a racist, ethno-gangster state that now serves as Europe's capitol for heroin, sex slavery and black market organs. This is the woman who turned Libya, once one of Africa's wealthiest and most socially equal nations into a smoking heap of Islamic terrorism that is slowly engulfing the entire continent. All so she could hang Gaddafi's head on her fucking mantle. This is the woman who quit as Secretary of State over Obama's initial refusal to directly fund Al-Qaeda in Syria. This is the woman who served as the architect of a neonazi coup-de-tat in Ukraine in order to suck Russia into a black hole of endless ethnic warfare (Thankfully, unlike Milosevic, Putin didn't take the bait.) and sabotage there integration with Europe. This is the woman who turned a long peaceful debate between China and it's neighbors over the ownership of a cluster of unpopulated Islands into a giant, nuclear powered game of Battleship. And this is the woman who wants to start World War 3 with Russia by going head-to-head with there fighter jets in both Syria and the Baltic's. With Killary as president we will be closer to nuclear apocalypse then we've been since the Cuban Missile Crisis.

For all Trumps military tough talk and foreign policy inconsistencies, he has shown more hesitation to expand the American Empire to the gates of Russian hell than any candidate for either major party this year. He's still all for killing Muslims, so much so he wants to invite Putin to take part in the bloodbath but Trump doesn't appear to share Killary's lust for Russophobic holy war. A Trump presidency may be chaotic, violent, racist and dangerous. It may even include a couple race riots and a few crimes against humanity. But it is far less likely to be as downright apocalyptic as a Killary regime. So if your looking for the lesser of two evils in 2016, my vote is on the racist moron over the worlds finest female mass murderer since Elizabeth Bathory. But I'd personally rather get a prostate exam with a fucking chainsaw then vote for either one of them. Please, take it from me, dearest motherfuckers, vote third party this November. Then hurry home and start digging. We're gonna need a lot of fallout shelters to survive this mess.

Peace, Love and Empathy- CH