Sunday, April 26, 2020

Fear and Loathing in Coronaville Volume 6: Rage Against the Quarantine or How I Learned to Start Worrying and Swear About It On the Internet

You motherfucker! You goddamn, cocksucking, clitlicking, shiteating, dickless, cuntless, gutless, motherfucking piece of fucking shit!! Ahem, sorry about that, dearest motherfuckers, but apparently on day 3678 of this government sanctioned shutdown my Hunter S. Thompson-with-cunt-jokes routine has been reduced to Joe Pesci with Tourette's Syndrome. Its gotten to the point where I'm not even sure who I'm swearing at anymore. Is it our thin-skinned bronzed asshole of a president, who couldn't be bothered to skip tee time when this plague was first popping off but is more than willing to use it as an excuse to launch a Third World War with China? Is it my governor or yours, who sees the very real threat of this thing as a giant blinking greenlight that reads 'FASCISM!'? Or is it the smug millionaire celebrities, cracking wise on Twitter about the white trash proletariat protesting the rapid erosion of our civil liberties back in Idaville from the comfort of their palatial castles in Belair? Or how about our heroes in blue, who gallantly risk their lives to pistol-whip Sunday drivers for daring to leave their two-bedroom prison cells then cry like fucking children when we fail to applaud them loudly enough for their latest ultraviolent ego-trip? It's all of them. All of those goose-stepping, fuck-faced-fascist, mother-raping, sons of six bastards! Those cum-guzzling, blood-belching-cunt-headed, authoritarian, fatherfucking motherfuckers!! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck your mother! Fuck your stupid butthole god! Fuck your flag! Fuck your authority! Fuck this country! Fuck the police! And fuck this goddamn motherfucking quarantine!! You motherfuckers better ban me from Facebook for another goddamn century, cuz this big-dicked tranny cunt is off her fucking meds and swinging like a goddamn samurai.

I have been sick upon death with a litany of diseases, both mental and physical, for all my life but I have never been sicker than I am right now of this constitutional shredder known as the government shutdown. Our dear leader, Little Lord Fuck-Pants, the Orange Duce of Fifth Avenue, may fain outrage for the white populist vote while he sells their children's children into lifelong debt slavery with his big, beautiful, wonderful, budget-quadrupling, pork-barrel, corporate bailouts, but he doesn't know what rage is until his been a morbidly depressed, genderfuck, basket case who can't even get a goddamn wonton. The only thing keeping me from blowing my motherfucking brains out is my primeval savage lust for pure fucking rage. I wanna torch the Pennsylvania State Capital to the fucking ground with a goddamn flamethrower. I wanna wipe my shit-caked ass with every Blue Lives Matter flag from here to Ferguson. I wanna shoot a drone from the fucking sky with a rocket launcher. I wanna raid the nearest food court like a crossdressing Mongolian warlord and social distance with 16 half-Asian prostitutes in the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. Hell, I don't even care if they're on the rag. I'll snort their blood off a goddamn Metro toilet seat, damn the dental dams. I wanna rage against the quarantine!

But I'm not gonna do that. Because I'm a responsible member of this human race, even if they are a swarm of earth-raping germs with tennis shoes. I'm going to stay inside and social distance and chew my chipped toe nails down to the bone, but I'm not going to do it because some law, some decree, some dick-swinging doctor or civil servant commands me to, and I shouldn't fucking have to either. That's the point of this foul-mouthed tirade. It is completely fucking possible to be a morally responsible Judeo-Christian Humanist and oppose the way our government is steamrolling over civil liberties and people's livelihoods with this obnoxious fascist government shutdown. And I am sick, I am downright fucking plagued of getting called a heartless baby-killer just because I don't believe a virus, even a deadly one, justifies pumping steroids into an already lethal police state.

"So does that mean a bunch of drunken frat boys should be able to cough into their grandmothers gaping mouths after a long night of bro-hugs and forties at the beach?" Fuck yes, and If I have to be the villain who finally says it out loud, then so fucking be it. I put liberty before safety, even if it means death, because I don't want to live in a world with my arms chained to the government's radiator. If that means people die, then let them die, let me. Call me a crazy limp-wristed anarchist, but I'm actually not willing to torture a terrorist's children to save Manhattan from a dirty bomb. It's not worth it. The ends don't justify the means, and with government, they never fucking do. Nail my fat ass to the cross and set it the fuck on fire. I am the heretic willing to live free or kill trying. Ban me from every social media platform from here to Pinterest, just don't dead name and misgender me on my fucking gravestone.

Maybe this isn't hip in desperate times like these, but I'm a Voluntaryist. That means that even though I may be a card carrying, Che worshipping, Molotov chucking, Kulak killing, Sorelian Maoist, I still believe that all human interactions must be 100% consensual. That means no taxes, no wars, no prisons, no borders, no standing armies, and no motherfucking, cunt-munching, goddamn quarantines. And if any of you limp-dick breeders have a fucking problem with that, then you can take it up with me at my parents split-level. I should be trapped here until at least fucking January.

Fuck you and good night.

Peace, Love, & Motherfucking Empathy- Nicky/CH

Soundtrack; some songs to listen to while dying.

*  Sabotage by Beastie Boys
*  Suspect Device by Stiff Little Fingers
*  Sunday Driver by the Raconteurs
*  I Don't Care by Black Flag
*  Superman by REM
*  Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine
*  Sweet 69 by Babes In Toyland
*  I Fought the Law by Dead Kennedys
*  Violet by Hole
*  Wave of Mutilation by the Pixies
*  Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle by Nirvana
*  Freedom of Choice by Devo
*  Kerosene by Big Black
*  Date with Ikea by Pavement

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Fear and Loathing in Coronaville Volume 5: The Patriot Act and Maximum Security Healthcare (Cuz Every Day Is 9/11)

It's such a played out cliché that it's downright corny, but if you were born sometime before the mid-Nineties, you really do remember exactly where you were on 9/11. It was an event too cataclysmic to not happen on a normal day because everything before that surreal shit-show seemed almost Norman Rockwell normal by comparison. I was a 13 year old 7th grader at Saint John's the Evangelist Catholic School. Hardly a simple time for a painfully closeted obsessive compulsive misfit, but a time before the heavy issues war, liberty and empire ran my life. I was too busy writing down Korn lyrics, washing my hands fifty times a day, and struggling to ignore the nagging suspicion that my feelings for Caitlyn Feelow were anything but heterosexual.

I was already a frightened little nervous wreck before some faceless administrator interrupted Mrs. Teeple's English class to inform us that somebody had just blown up America, as the late Amiri Baraka once put it. Both Twin Towers, which I mostly knew from the second Home Alone movie, had been struck by commercial airliners. By the time I got home they were both gone, vanished into a volcanic cloud of dust. I remember my mother looking up at the sky and wondering aloud when the planes would stop dropping from the heavens like a Ballardian rain of ballistic machinery. I remember the near pornographic replays of the tragedy, the money shot of sinking skyscrapers, being played on Fox News over and over and over again. The news never stopped blaring. Twenty years later and it's still on. The memory itself makes me want to wash my hands.

In hindsight, we should have seen it coming, especially our government, and shit, maybe they did. We spent decades repeatedly backing up over the Middle East with our colossal pick-up truck of a country, only stopping to syphon more gas from the desert to keep the party going. We had overthrown democracies and replaced them with dictators, armed those dictators to the fucking teeth, then declared war on them when they used our toys on the wrong neighbors. But on 9/11, none of this seemed to matter. Even the adults were too busy being traumatized by the evening news to think straight. Everyone was scared out of their minds and we were quite willing to vote for pretty much anything, pay any price, to anyone who appeared to be in charge, just to feel Norman Rockwell normal again.

So America wandered blindly into the on coming traffic of uncut tyranny. My parents and my teachers accepted the Patriot Act and it's many shadowy tentacles like a booster shot, as they did the increasingly unhinged forever wars that followed. But somewhere along this line, something broke deep inside me. I couldn't help but notice that the same people who spent their illustrious careers provoking this attack all seemed to suddenly have their shit together when it came time to react to it. None of their excuses added up and all of their solutions seemed to fulfill their long expressed desires to take an empire and turn it into an Orwellian global police state. I began listening to Rage Against the Machine a lot more than Korn and started reading books by Noam Chomsky. Soon I was getting into angry shouting matches with the various adults in my life on a near daily basis. But they were all just too damn scared to listen to a genderqueer brat with a head full of inconvenient contradictions.

Twenty years later and the adults are more scared than ever. The Patriot Act and the forever wars continue to grow into terrifyingly grotesque new shapes. It was all supposed to be temporary. It was all for our own good. Now the War on Terror has lead us to run to the aid Al-Qaeda themselves in order to prevent another secular dictator from harboring another 9/11. The Patriot Act led to FISA courts, warrantless wire tapping, and a gargantuan apparatus that keeps us all safe by collecting our emails in a giant hole in the Utah desert. And now the Coronavirus has hit us like a thousand commercial airliners and every single day is like 9/11. The bodies never stop pilling up on cable news, being hauled away in refrigerated army trucks and buried in mass graves not far from where the shadows of those towers once loomed, and once again, all the wrong people have all the right answers. All we have to do is hand over the keys to the pick-up truck and let them run over the Constitution a few more times and everything will go back to normal and we can all make believe that we're the good guys again. As the plague plateaus, the police state just keeps rising.

As our governors do their damnedest out-fash Trump, the gestapo state is running roughshod across this diseased nation like a Mongol horde on holiday. In Kentucky, cops are writing down the license plates of yokals committing the high crime of practicing the First Amendment on Easter Sunday. Social distancing has officially brought stop-and-frisk to the Bible Belt. Meanwhile, in the quarantined Gaza Strip once known as New York, our pigs in blue are taking it a step further, macing black couples and dragging them out of their parked cars to lock them up in concrete boxes with a dozen other unwashed denizens. In my own state of Pennsylvania, small business' are being forcibly shuttered and people are getting fined up the ass just for taking a short drive in the country to clear their heads of this crap.

This is just the beginning. They want more, way more. They want so much more and they promise that they just want it for a minute, just like before. As Trump continues to scapegoat China for his derelict lack of preparedness, creeps like his son in law are in talks with big tech on how we can adopt the Great Red Dragon's successful model of medical apartheid, tracking the sick like cattle with everything from cell phone apps to certificates of immunity, and the left's response to this unquestioned tyranny is to hand these same motherfuckers total control of our morally bankrupt healthcare system. It's little wonder that suddenly Tea Party Republicans are talking up Sandernista welfare programs. Panic really does bring people together.

This has always been my issue with national single-payer healthcare. While I have always believed that healthcare is a fundamental human right, it is just not a right I trust the federal government to uphold. And that's really what it all comes down to; Do you really trust the same people who gave us the Patriot Act with running your healthcare? Do you really honestly believe that they wont abuse that access to intimate information? You might as well just let Joseph Goebbels rifle through your underwear drawer. Across the globe, from Israel to Taiwan, we are seeing centralized government healthcare systems being turned into maximum security prisons. Everything from drones to facial recognition software and tracking bracelets are being utilized, all in the name of public safety and national security, and it is these governments unfettered access to their citizens healthcare that makes this dystopia possible. Our healthcare system is shit but this is not the answer.

The biggest difference, really the only difference, between 2020 and 2001, is that in 2001 the far-left in this country was unified by its opposition to the tyranny of globalism. It was Noam Chomsky and Ralph Nader who showed me the way to rage against my parent's gullible faith in this countries political institutions. Today, the far-left is united only by it's support for free shit from these institutions, even if that means handing Donald Trump himself a full-metal-speculum. Bernie Sanders could give two fucks and a shit about the global military-economic system that made Covid-19 as inevitable as 9/11. His solution is to hand our guns and our papers over to the same fascist fucks he half-heartedly rages against before he sheepishly endorses them. What the fuck happened here? And why do I still feel like the only kid who realizes that the adults are all fucking crazy?

You figure that out, dearest motherfuckers. I gotta go wash my hands again.

Peace, Love, & Empathy- Nicky/CH

Soundtrack; songs that influenced this post

*  Making Bad Decisions by the Strokes
*  Shoots and Ladders by Korn
*  Norman Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Ray
*  Guerrilla Radio by Rage Against the Machine
*  Just by Radiohead
*  I Wanna Be Sedated by the Ramones
*  Go Home by Julien Baker
*  Police On My Back by the Clash

Sunday, April 12, 2020

Fear and Loathing in Coronaville Volume 4: Insanity is a Virtue in a Mad World

As I scrawl the sloppy copy for my latest manifesto on a window pane between my thoughts on string theory and Kevin Bacon's connection to 9/11 (Madoff made him do it!), I am sincerely struck by America's latest outpouring of affection for the pathologically eccentric. We may be on the veranda of a new black death but it has never been a better time to be mad in America. Not only is the evening news waxing hysterical and joining the angrier voices in my head like a Henry Rollins gospel ensemble, but every corporate huckster from Viacom to Disney apparently wants to be alone with me (I'll be Daria if you play Snow White).

Even before this country was strapped down into the straitjacket of corona pandemonia, a movement to normalize and destigmatize the scarlet letter of mental illness in mainstream America was well underway. Finally, it's OK to be nuts! Fuck, it's downright sexy. But this brings to mind a question that has long haunted me. What exactly is mental illness in this age of post-modern collapse and synergistic corporate hysteria? What does it mean to be crazy in such a sick sad world?

According to all the back-slapping do-gooders in the medical establishment, as well as the cultural icons who pander in their jabber, mental illness is just that, an illness of the mind. But just try and ask your therapist what the fuck that really means and he'll likely smugly reply, "Well, what do you think that means?", before charging you half a grand for his insightful Freudian evasive maneuver. The fine folks at the DSM seem to agree that mental illness is a condition affecting mood, thinking, or behavior in a way that negatively affects functioning in mainstream society. But that's just it, have you taken a fucking look at mainstream society lately?

Palestinian children are starving next door to wealthy kibbutz's, the coral reefs are bleaching like goddamn gym socks, the Amazon is burning to the fucking ground, supposed democracies are fighting a plague with a growing police state, and you fuckers still care more about Kylie Jenner's bleached asshole than your own impending doom. If this is what passes for mainstream society, why the fuck would any person with half a conscience even want to function in it? I may be sick, but you people are fucking depraved. Let's have another Whopper and bomb Iran, oh what a normal world!

I have always been pathologically at odds with the normal world and the normal world has never made their disdain for my inability to conform to its wishes a secret. At a very young age, I learned the harsh lesson that I was different and that wasn't OK with the upstanding adults in my life. My issues with what is commonly known as mental illness have always been deeply intertwined with my dizzyingly fluid gender identity, and why not? Just like gender (not to mention race, sexuality, and adulthood), mental illness is essentially a social construct defined by class and civilization.

In fact, it wasn't so long ago that the DSM considered all queer bodies to be insane. I happen to agree with them. Your average Jane is just peachy with normal. She puts on the appropriate uniform, performs wage slavery, and goes home to accept all the right organs in all the right holes. Us queer and crazy folk are biologically driven not to blindly embrace such preconceived notions and for that sin we must be carefully categorized and heavily medicated before we can serve the only role deemed fit for us to play by the sane world, as well behaved tokens of progress and tolerance. Ooh! Doesn't it just feel yummy to belong?

But some of us don't want to fucking belong. We've had a look at your beige Barbie Dreamworld and we can smell the corpses baked beneath the plastic veneer. And now there are more of us, more every single day. You see, it is society, with its amoral global capitalist bloodbath and the diseases this fosters, which is truly unhinged, and the harder this hard truth becomes to ignore, the more insane people proliferate. Do you really think all the mass shooters work for the NRA? Do you honestly believe that kids are throwing themselves from tall buildings because they're simply bummed out? We've had enough. We see the writing on the fucking wall and we don't like what it says. Coronavirus is just a dress rehearsal for the upheaval that is to come. So civilization finally sees us, and welcomes us, and cherishes us, just so long as the growing horde of pathological malcontents stays home and stays properly medicated.

Well I've got some writing for your wall- Fuck. You. This is one crazy person who wont keep quiet while the sane savages rape and pillage what's left of this planet in one big craven mass suicide attempt. I will rage like a proud lunatic against your twisted designs and you're gonna need to build bigger pills and bigger prisons to shut me up. Better get to work. Your time is running out. The dawn of the day of the mad dog is upon us. 

Peace, Love & Insanity- Nicky/CH

Soundtrack; songs that influenced this post

*  Downtown by Majical Cloudz
*  Crazy Motorcycle by Daniel Johnston
*  Mad Dog Front by Fugazi
*  On the Floor by Perfume Genius
*  Lithium by the Polyphonic Spree
*  Nervous Breakdown by Black Flag
*  Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers
*  Pilot Can at the Queer God by Flaming Lips
*  Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle by Nirvana
*  Crazy by Patsy Cline

Sunday, April 5, 2020

Fear and Loathing In Coronaville Volume 3: Forced Social Media Distancing

It has recently become abundantly clear that Facebook hates my fucking guts. I've suspected as much for a while now but this week it became pretty much undeniable. After posting my praise for the latest victories of the fabulous Houthi rebels, those faceless censors at America's biggest social media juggernaut regretfully informed me that I had violated their pristine standards by supporting "dangerous individuals and organizations", and since this was my third offense, they're blocking me from posting on all their platforms for thirty days. They tossed another 7 days of forced isolation from instant messaging on the fire when I attempted to finish a comment on a friend's post that I was in the middle of when they spanked me. Apparently, I've been a bad bad girl. Pappa Zuckerburg needs to send me to bed without supper thirty times in a row, all at the height of social distancing season with my clinical depression already in full bloom. I can't even message my epileptic bestie back in plague ravaged England to make sure she's not ice cold on the kitchen floor of her girlfriends flat. And for what exactly? What the fuck even is a dangerous individual or organization?

According to Facebook, their are several markers that identify such undesirables. But none of them really fit.

1.) Terrorist activity. The Houthis are in no way shape or form a terrorist organization. They are a civilian militia fighting off an American backed genocide. Even MBS' ginger gimp in the White House has decided not to designate them as such. The Saudi Arabian government on the other hand has been a devoted supporter of Wahhabi terrorism for decades and, last time I checked, none of the western rags who kissed their ass before they went Scarface on Jamal Khashoggi have been banned.

2.) Organized hate or violence. OK, sure, maybe the second one, but doesn't the US Army have a Facebook page? Who's got the higher body count, the wolf or the wheat thresher? As for the first, I won't deny for a second that the Houthis treatment of Yemen's Baha'i minority is deplorable, but this hardly makes them a hate group, especially in the sectarian minefield of the Middle East. The Houthis' declared mission is to liberate their land from foreign influence, pretty much everything that follows is another specter birthed in the fogs of a war they didn't start.

3.) Mass or serial murder. Only if defending their people from these very crimes counts. Yeah, I call horseshit.

4.) Human Trafficking. Nope. No smoke their either. Once again, I'm pretty sure that sweatshop archipelagos like the Gap and Old Navy have unmolested Facebook pages.

5.) Criminal or harmful behavior. Harmful behavior? What, like anorexia, drug abuse, crippling debt, cancer, climate change and obesity? By those blatantly vague standards you could hang the entire Fortune 500 with the flick of a single lever. I can think of worse ways to get a boner before lunch. 

But you're not gonna see that show trial in this lifetime or the next. That's because Facebook is like the rest of the colossal institutions of this terminally sick fucking country. Not only do the rules not apply to the rich and powerful, they were designed by the rich and the powerful to be arbitrarily enforced against the rest of us riffraff. Over the last several years, social media has been on a rampage, censoring the shit out of anyone with an unpopular opinion and this fire hasn't just burned the Alt-Right. My friend and agitprop sensei, Keith Preston, who runs my site, Attack the System, was banned from Facebook for life this year.

Is Keith some goosestepping Proud Boy? No, he's a fellow eccentric left-libertarian who earned a place on the status quo's shitlist for two primary reasons. First off, He's an analyst for Iran's English language channel, Press TV, who are trying to pervert our blessed democracy with the inconvenient fact that we've been raping Persia stupid since the Shah wore short pants.The other reason is perhaps even more telling than the first. Keith's message boards were the last bastion of untethered free speech on Facebook. Anybody could say anything and it was fucking fantastic, like some strange cyber CBGB's. You could catch neo-Maoist tankies sparring with crypto-fascist trolls, pone both of them for being wankers and then trade "...Three radicals walked into a bar..." jokes. Somewhere between Altamont and Lollapalooza, this brand of open cross ideological sparring wen't from weird to dangerous on the scales of the powerful.

I'm an open borders loving, kitten petting, transgender, social justice warrior. Facebook is supposed to be my safe space. But I don't know my lane. I also support gun rights, cryptocurrency and un-hip anti-imperialist freedom fighters like the Houthis and Hezbollah. The fact that I'm a minority just makes this even worse because I smash their assimilationist tokenism to fucking bits and lay ruin to the lie that liberal democracy is the only thing that can save a wretch like me. My first two strikes before Facebook's latest were violations of their rules against hate speech because I proudly self-identify as a fucking tranny rather than mind my place, seen but not heard, in the mild mannered alphabet soup of LGBTQ. The straight cis lord giveth. The straight cis lord taketh away.

I've essentially been locked in the Facebook penalty box for being a bad minority and having too many weird friends in weird places. Well fuck them. I have only 230 followers, making the Zuckbots' hissy fit doubly absurd. But these friends include anarchists and communists and nationalists and paleoconservatives and libertarians. We don't agree on much, but they never made me feel like a faggot. It took the supposedly woke liberal babysitters that run Facebook to achieve that. The one thing my weird friends and I can agree on is that this brand of corporate censorship is fucking evil. And that is precisely the kind of solidarity Mark Zuckerberg and his faceless flunkies want to see mopped up, because they know, deep down in their throbbing little chicken hearts, that the freaks have their mansions surrounded and the moment we stop flaming each other is the moment we burn them to the fucking ground.

Until then, or at least for the next 30 days, you can find my clinically depressed faggot ass on Minds. But I'll keep coming back to Facebook until they give me the same death sentence they gave my sensei. I'm not done with them yet. Those cunts pissed on the wrong electric fence.

Peace, Hate & Apathy- Nicky/CH

Soundtrack; songs that influenced this post.

* Vomit Heart by Babes In Toyland
*  Criminal by Fiona Apple
*  Dicknail by Hole
*  Chainsaw Gutsfuck by Mayhem
*  Floyd the Barber by Nirvana
*  U-Mass by the Pixies
*  Credit In the Straight World by Young Marble Giants
*  Strange Little Girl by Tori Amos