Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Bathroom Liberation Front

Nearly a year ago, on my 27th birthday, I wrote a post celebrating the Supreme Court decision to essentially legalize same-sex marriage nationwide. I used the event to remind myself, in the haze of my annual birthday depression, that even in fucked up little Amerikkka, good things come to those who wait. After decades of discrimination, humiliation, violence, disease and repression, the queer community in this country that I've come to see as a kind of extended family of proud misfits finally had a bright, shining victory to celebrate for all the heartache and backbreaking hard work and it felt like a victory for the whole fucking country. One that gave me hope when I needed it most. We had witnessed true radical change in this country for the first time in a very long time and it felt good, damn good. The people had come together and together we were heavy.

Unfortunately, like most great moments of cataclysmic change in this country, it came with a price. One step forward and two steps back. And those steps were to be taken on the backs of the queer communities most vulnerable minority and the one nearest to my heart. Those fine folks at fag-basher's INC. set there sights on the trans+ community and set there phasers to kill. What transpired and sadly continues to transpire is not legislation or even a backlash. It's revenge. Our happiness angered the gods of hate and they demanded blood.

They got it over the last year as a slew of states across the Bible Belt got busy creating legislation that targeted queer people under the guise of defending small business' and civil servant's right to discriminate as long as they invoked the name of god to do so (they always do) giving everyone from bakers to pissed off crazy cat ladies like that bitch Kim Davis the ability to deny services to gay couples. But that was just the proverbial lubricant. The real dick in the ass came with the anti-trans+ bathroom laws.

They differ slightly from state to state but they all follow a similar line of thought, if you can call it that. In order to protect the delicate sensibilities of our precious daughters from the off possibility of seeing a wiener (GASP!) women's bathrooms had to be policed by laws that barred anyone born with a prick from entering them. Now, aside from the fact that these laws are totally unenforceable, which I'll get to shortly, they seem designed and marketed to humiliate, dehumanize and demonize a minority that already suffers from more gruesome brutality then any other. The vile commercials for these campaigns routinely go out of there way to paint transgender people and trans-women in particular as depraved sexual predators only interested in using public restrooms as a hunting ground to prey on young children. They did everything but invoke the name of Buffalo Bill.

These laws weren't designed to be effective. As stated above, there totally unenforceable unless your going to put an armed state trooper at every fucking rest stop to check peoples birth certificates at the door like a goddamn bouncer. No, these laws are designed with only one purpose in mind and that is to unleash a witch-hunt style wave of persecution against transgender and genderqueer individuals which can only end in violence. I'm not being hyperbolic here. The letter of these laws is written word for word by "faith" based, designated hate groups like the Liberty Council. These laws are about hate, pure and simple. There is no room to mince words on this. There is yet to be a single, solitary recorded case of a trans+ person assaulting anyone in a public restroom. Yet over 70% of polled transgender people report having experienced traumatizing encounters in public restrooms. Many of those incidents include violence and even rape. Many of these victims are trans+ kids who also experience record shattering rates of suicide, largely because campaigns like this make them feel like loveless monsters. But I guess those precious daughters don't fucking matter to all the fine Christian folk at the Liberty Council. Well, they fucking matter to me. To quote Throwing Muses- They can no longer move and I can no longer be still.

To be clear, I may be some yet to be defined variant of genderqueer (still figuring that out) but I'm lucky enough to be able to say that these laws don't effect me directly. However frustratingly complicated it may be, my predominant gender identity still matches my biology. I have no problem using a men's room aside from the fact that there fucking repulsive. Even if the prototypical jarhead fag-basher pissing next to me knew I was genderqueer, one look at my mountain man beard and my Haystacks Calhoun physique and he would probably just assume that a guy like me being genderqueer just meant that I liked to wear women's lingerie while I slaughtered my victims with a fire-ax (I actually prefer kimonos and chainsaws.) Long, hypothetical story short, Johnny Fag-Basher would probably sooner piss sitting down then risk a bloody death in my basement choreographed to the tune of "Goodbye Horses". What can I say, even the most hideous stereotypes can be fun sometimes. My point is, I have the luxury of being able to blend in with the straight world. Even my feminine side is pretty butch. But most gender non-conforming folks aren't so lucky. And since I can't be in every men's room from Kansas to Mississippi with my kimono and chainsaw to protect my people, I have no other choice but to once again fall back on the sadly limited power of my mighty little blog.

My solution, aside from castrating the Johnny Fag-Basher's of this universe, is actually pretty simple. Down right obvious in my opinion. Desegregate the bathrooms. Seriously, why the fuck not. I don't think even the most heavily chromosomed mongoloids out here in cousin-fucker country suffer under the delusion that not everybody poops. The very premise of gender segregated bathrooms is actually relatively recent. About 127 years to be exact. Which in the scheme of human existence is equivalent to a fucking pin drop. Furthermore, it's a relic of an antiquated and sexist era.

During the burgeoning Industrial Revolution of the late 1880's, the mustache twirling patriarchy of Victorian America jumped at ways to protect or rather control the growing population of female factory workers. What they came up with in there infinite, manly, Caucasian wisdom was that good old stand by of segregation. They figured, shit, it worked on those troublesome colored folk down south, so fuck it, why not? And thus we had ladies reading rooms in libraries, ladies parlors in department stores, ladies train cars (in back, naturally) and ladies restrooms. Most of these brilliant, paternalistic advances fell by the wayside of progress. So why hold on to the last vestige of a stupid era. Especially when it oppresses and violates peoples basic dignity. Privacy would simply be a matter of locking the stall door. Urinals and open showers would have to go but I'd hardly call that a tragedy. And I know what you ladies out there are thinking. Men are fucking animals in the bathroom. My OCD has made me painfully aware of this fact. But ask any straight married man if his bathroom habits have become more human since cohabitating with a member of the opposite sex and they will promptly give you a defeated sigh and concur. The more women in a house, the more cleanly the bathroom. Never underestimate the power of a good example. We can fucking do this people. It's not fucking rocket science. All we have to do is grow the fuck up and evolve. Segregation of any kind is bullshit. Lets liberate the bathroom, NOW!!!

Friday, April 1, 2016

Putin's Last Laugh Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Great Chess Game

It was a beautiful dream. A dream of blood and guts and conquest. A dream of sword swinging Mujaheddin. A dream of transcontinental pipelines. A dream of an ethnically cleansed, Wahhabi quisling state, a hatchets throw from Russia's jugular. It was a hideous, ghastly wet dream straight out of Churchill's musty spank bank. It was a nightmare about secular Syria in chains, splay legged and prepped for Yankee rape. And it almost came true. They would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those meddling Russians.

Yes, dearest motherfuckers, on March 14, Vladimir Putin, that most wily of Kremlin bastards, announced before a shocked global audience on the eve of the Geneva Ceasefire that Russia had achieved its goals in Syria and would be pulling the majority of its combat forces out of the country less then six months after they had arrived. In other words, checkmate.

But to fully understand and appreciate the gravity of Putin's victory speech you have to look at how we got here and start at the very beginning of this Syrian mess.

It all started with a pipeline. In the year of our lord, two-thousand-and-nine, Qatar, one of America's finest little oil-rich terror state-lets, offered the secular regime of Bashar Al-Assad the opportunity of a lifetime. You see, Qatar, with the full support of its American handlers, had cooked up a grand scheme to funnel its plentiful oil stash directly into the EU by way of a pipeline that was to run through Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Turkey and hopefully Syria. Thus cutting a huge chunk out of Russia and Iran's own Euro driven oil profits and further isolating two of America's final targets in its century long quest for global domination. Syria was the last state necessary to make this scheme come true.

Naturally, Assad said no. Which only came as a surprise if you've spent the last fifty years up your own asshole (AKA the US State Department). Syria wasn't about to fuck over two of its oldest and most loyal allies just to hop in bed with a nest of serpents who would (and have) gladly devour there own young just to see there stock value rise half a point. As if that weren't enough to finally due in this little anti-imperialist pariah state, Assad then went ahead and signed on to a counter deal to start a similar pipeline with Iran in 2010. That was the point of no return. As far as Uncle Sam and his Wahhabi quislings were concerned, Assad's ass was as good as grass.

Thankfully the villains of our story had just figured out how to hijack the once troublesome Arab Spring vis-a-vis the magic of social media and use it for there own evil plots. This reckless formula had already (pseudo)successfully brought down Gaddafi in Libya. All part of then Secretary Killary's new wave of American imperialism, ironically deemed Soft Power. Now it was time for a sequel in Syria. And Killary, in her perma-infinite wisdom, decided to use the war-booty of Muammar's massive weapons cache to do it. Soon literal shiploads of Libyan weaponry began to find its way to rebels on the shores of Syria. But after this pipeline got hit by Killary's own once loyal freedom fighters in Benghazi, slaughtering Ambassador Steven and his entourage in the process, Obama got spooked and rejected Killary's plot to directly arm what was essentially Al-Qaeda with the emphasis on directly. This wouldn't do. Madame Killary, not accustomed to hearing no from someone who, as her charming hubby once mused, would have been getting her coffee a few years ago, left in protest. This didn't stop Obama from getting a little help from his friends.

With Madame Killary out and the post-Benghazi arms tide too toxic to touch with American fingers, the job of moving Gaddafi's deadly loot to our latest proxy jihad was outsourced to Turkey who dutifully began to flood the Syrian deserts with a searing hot ocean of high-powered weaponry. Meanwhile Qatar and Saudi Arabia did what they do best and gathered the disaffected maniacs of the world and sent them into another poor secular nation in dire need of destabilization. All while Obama and his cabal of little Eichmann's in the State Department went to work pumping the compliant western media-sphere full of propagandist tall tales of brave Syrian rebels being violently repressed by big badman Assad, infringing upon there there god given right to slaughter infidels and sell there daughters like cattle. Naturally, the bright, wholesome folks of the fifth estate, entrusted to educate the American people, ate this devil's dung like fine chocolate and spit it back out into the gaping mouths of there already thoroughly debased audience.

Not that this was nearly enough. The reality on the ground in Syria was that the manufactured rebellion never had the support of more than thirty percent of the local population and that number plummeted once it became undeniable that this supposedly homegrown uprising was in fact comprised largely of foreign mercenaries who couldn't give two shits about democracy or even humanity itself for that matter. The Syrian people did the only sane thing they could and stood by the devil they knew. Russia did the same and continued to back there Baathist Allies against yet another uprising clearly aimed at weakening there presence in there own continent.

In spite of all the free guns and man power or more then likely because of it, America's latest mujaheddin loverboys quickly had there asses handed to them by the very people they claimed to be liberating. It rapidly became painfully clear to Obama that Killary was right about one thing. You couldn't have your imperialist pie and eat it too. He could have pulled a JFK and realized that he was in over his head with his dusty Bay of Pigs and pull the plug on it. But no, the Nobel Peace Prize winner decided to double down on his mess. It was time to pull a Dubya and go balls deep in this bloody bitch. The only problem was Obama didn't have the 911-style support he needed to commit such an act of imperial pasty rape with his dovish posterity in tact. Even with the waves of State Department approved propaganda being vomited at the American people, they still couldn't stomach another Middle Eastern quagmire. The corpses of Iraq and Libya weren't buried deep enough to stop reeking. Obama would have to get crafty with this one.

So the Commander in Chief came up with a plan, A wickedly ingenious plan. With Assad's boys enjoying the joyful sadist's end of a glorious ass whooping and with the full knowledge that the rebel's re-gifted Gaddafi arms stash included biological weaponry, Obama sent his whip-lashed errand boys a thinly coded message through the western mass media. The crafty young president made a series of public announcements the he would not interfere (directly) in the Syrian Fracas UNLESS, that is, someone (anyone?) crossed the "red line" and used chemical weapons (wink wink). The desperate Jihadi's heard the message loud and clear and launched a series of nerve gas false flag attacks against Syrian civilians. Obama and his NATO posse wasted zero time waiting for the bodies to get cold before declaring unequivocally that the then victorious Assad had inexplicably crossed the red line that insured his own doom. And of coarse, once again, Obama's devoted fanclub in the media joyfully jumped aboard another war bandwagon with the unblinking giddiness of kindergartner's on an Autumn hayride. It looked like Obama would finally have his war. But Putin had other plans.

As Obama began to circle the wagons and prep for a full blown Syrian invasion, complete with fleets of menacing gunboats gathering along the nation's coastline, even going so far as to fire a warning shot over the bow of a locally stationed Russian battleship (Gulf of Tonkin, much?), Vladimir Putin, ever the Russian chess master, carefully plotted his next move. A weaker leader, like Yeltsin, would have simply abandoned there embattled Allie. A dumber one, like (insert American president's name)
would have over reacted with military bombastics. Putin chose a third way and against all odds it fucking worked.

With a little help from a fellow anti-imperialist hell raiser in the Vatican, Putin brokered a peace deal with the Assad regime. Assad agreed to hand over his own antiquated chemical weapons stash, left-over from his feud with Yankee armed mustard gas enthusiast Saddam Hussein, to the Russians for disposal if the "free world" agreed to step off there throat. The lion share of the so called free world was pleased with this option. Obama was beside himself with frustration but what could he do? Putin caught him with his pants down, spanked him and called his bluff. Without the already played out specter of weapons of mass destruction, Obama didn't have the support he needed at home or abroad to engage in a "humanitarian" bloodbath. What was even better was that now Obama's Heroes(TM) in Al-Qaeda could no longer gas people without exposing the lie of the previous false flag attacks. In one fare swoop Putin managed to not only kill Obama's war but he also depleted him of an option in provoking another one. Obama, who had previously poo-pooed the constitutional necessity of congressional approval for war powers, was forced to send his plot against Syria to die in the Senate and anti-warriors such as myself welcomed the rise of Putin as an unlikely champion for peace.

Putin had humiliated Obama. He made a wanna-be warmonger look like a fucking pussy in front of the chicken-hawk set. The cruelty of cold, hard reality didn't stop Obama's liberal fanboys however from ludicrously giving there dear leader credit for preventing a war he carefully designed himself. It also didn't stop this wolf in doves clothing from seeking revenge. But he'd have to look north of Damascus to get it.

As the Russian people basked in the new found glory of there international leadership at the 2014 Winter Games in Sochi, Obama's minions in the State Department busied themselves manufacturing an uprising in Russia's neighbor and former heartland Ukraine. By the Games closing ceremony the democratically elected government of Viktor Yanukovych had been violently overthrown and replaced with an openly Russophobic, neofascist junta who wasted little time antagonizing the nations sizable Russian speaking population when the people of Crimea rose up and decided, democratically, to return to there motherland. Putin stepped up again and bravely accepted the will of the people followed immediately, of coarse, by another toxic campaign of slanderous vilification from the lemmings in the western media.

The point of the Maidan coup was to provoke Russia into a confrontation that would permanently alienate them from the European market they depended on for oil revenue. Putin recognized this right away and adamantly refused to take the bait. I myself, as a lifelong Russophile and history nerd was livid with what appeared to me to be Vlad's cowardly indecision on Eastern Ukraine. I was all to familiar with the long plight of the Novorussiyan people. I had read extensively on the grotesque horrors they had suffered and against all odds survived at the hands of the Nazi's and there Western Ukrainian henchmen. Millions of bullet riddled bodies in mass graves. Only now to face skinheads marching beneath the same treacherous flags there forefathers had died beneath. I supported there independence. I still do. And I was furious that Putin refused to do the same, especially after Crimea. I was wrong. Though I may possess a Russian soul, I lack a Russian mind. You see, Russians play the long game and Putin was no exception. Putin played for keeps.

While Vlad had little choice but to respect Crimea's wishes in order to maintain Russia's indispensable Black Sea fleet in Sebastipol, he wasn't about to be suckered into another Afghan trap like his Soviet forefathers before him. So he played it cool. He aloud NATO to go out of there way to harass him and he aloud the US to discredit itself and expose there own duplicity with there relentless and increasingly unhinged tall tales about fictional Russian invasions. Sure enough, it took less then a year for Europe to grow exasperated by the constant Yankee wolf crying. These cultured self righteous Euro-twats may have been ready and willing to indulge in there innate Slavophobia with sanctions and economic warfare but they weren't about let the US use them as a front for starting the third world war. So they cautiously decided to go against Obama's wishes and give Putin another opportunity to play peacemaker. And so it was that Putin brokered another peace deal that still stands strong today. Novorussiya has held on to there hard fought autonomy while the fascist American rump state of Banderastan has devolved into a colossal despotic money-pit, totally dependent on funds the US and the EU can barely afford to pay. Once again, Putin had shrewdly turned the tables on his foes.

This didn't mean he was out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. While Vlad was distracted up north, Obama's black budget henchmen devised a devilish new strategy to destabilize Assad. Two armies were built. One, the ironically titled Syrian Free Army, was built out in the open as a force of American armed and trained "good guys" ready to fight for mom, apple pie and democracy. The other army appeared just as suddenly but from the shadows. ISIS, as they called themselves, seemed to have mysteriously rose from the sands of Iraq like Ozy-fucking-mandias. It's leaders were all former Al-Qaeda fighters who met in the same American run prison and were summarily released for reasons still shrouded in mystery. The nucleus of there rank and file came directly from the Sunni death squads used by Petreaus during the Fox fabled surge. I think you get where I'm going with this.

While America had zero traceable ties to ISIS, our client states in Turkey and the Persian Gulf pulled out all the stops to bankroll these bastards. As did our own Free Syrian Army in there own weird way. While officially enemies of ISIS, our boys seemed to act mostly as a recruiting ground or even a conduit to the army of darkness. A common narrative unfolded. A Syrian rebel is vetted by the US. Trained by the US. Armed by the US. Sent back into Syria by the US. Then summarily joined ISIS the moment there boots hit the fucking sand. Obama puts up his hands and says oopsy-daisy. But it happened way too goddamn much to just be a coincidence. That tasty, cinnamon flavored neocon Marco Rubio was right about one thing. We need to dispel with the notion that Obama doesn't know what he's doing. He knows exactly what he's doing. He's doing what right-wing chicken-hawks like Rubio only dream about and he gets away with it every fucking time.

After destabilizing the Iran-friendly Shiite government in Iraq, leading the once resistant Al-Maliki regime to get down on there knee's and beg us to re-occupy there country, ISIS turned there attention to Syria and quickly pushed Assad's back back up against the wall. After a Grand Guiginol-esque orgy of depravity on YouTube, Obama finally had the support he needed from the thoroughly terrified western populace to justify his presence in Syria. America, along with a coalition of other ISIS backers, began dropping bombs but unsurprisingly most of them seemed to be directed at Syrian infrastructure, while those sly little cretins in ISIS always managed to slink away with only minor damage. Meanwhile our presence in the Levant served another twisted purpose. Keeping Assad's allies and ISIS' real enemies like Iran and Hezbollah at bay. Brilliant, right? But as we all know, things quickly got completely out of hand.

Obama's Free Syrian Army rapidly devolved from winkingly unreliable to a total multi-billion dollar embarrassment that Obama could no longer just shrug off with a flippant "shit happens" pose and there predecessors fared even worse. All the while the Black Plague of the Islamic State had grown far too powerful to contain and swiftly spread across three continents. Yet our Frankenstein monster still couldn't manage to dislodge Assad quickly enough to make Obama's inaction look less then suspicious. Obama's plan B? Killarys Plan A. Arm Al-Qaeda directly and proclaim them to be newly minted "moderates". Shit was going to hell in a hand basket alright. That is, until Putin stepped up and stepped in to end this mad imperialist circus once and for all.

Flash forward some six months later. Al-Qaeda and it's other "moderate" Yankee Doodle head choppers are fucking decimated. In spite of it's cowardly attacks on civilians abroad, ISIS is on the run like scared rabbits caught in a surly old Russian's turnip garden. There territory shrinks day by day. As I type this Palmyra is being liberated and Raqqa appears to be next. The bullet-proof umbrella of the Russian air campaign has allowed the true enemies of jihad, Iran, Iraq, Kurdistan, Rejova and Hezbollah to flourish and Russia's sudden removal of this umbrella has both empowered these forces reclaimed sense sovereignty and forced Assad to get serious about reform. The myth of a America, the great and mighty imperial peacekeeper has been shattered by Putin's mastery of the great chessboard and the people of the Middle East aren't the only ones to realize it. From England to Germany, America's quisling Allies in the EU establishment are fighting a losing battle against there own citizens, who are drowning in a deluge of the refugee's created by there own reckless support of America's war on Russia. An uprising of anti-establishment populist movements on both the left and the right now threaten the very fabric of the EU and NATO's existence. Similarly Obama's heir apparent and the architect of the Syrian conspiracy, Imperial Queen Killary is dodging a barrage of shit being flung by monkey's on both ends of the Bipartisan Washington Zoo while both major parties are beginning to lose control of there own constituents.

And somewhere in Russia, on the porch of a rustic old dacha in a birch tree grove an hour outside the Kremlin walls, Vladimir Putin watches the winter ice thaw with his dog Buffy at his feet, a glass of vodka in his hand and the wind at his back. On a distant television reports of Putin's unprecedented high approval ratings are interrupted by news of Donald Trump's victory in another Rustbelt primary. Vlad cracks a wry little smile and takes another sip of Stoli. Like a Screwdriver, revenge is best served orange with a splash of vodka. Drink up Vlad. You've earned it. But I'm still moving to Canada.

Nostrovia, dearest motherfuckers, Peace, Love and Nostrovia.