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busy, busy, busy

Tuesday, February 10, 2004

This nation has finally started its inevitable plunge from the tallest mound in the landfill of history. Eventually this corrupt and filthy mass will find itself slowly rotting at the bottom of the pile like so many other empires before it, dumbfounded at how it became dislodged from its peak. All we can do now is watch from within as gravity performs its duty. Most won't even know it's happening until the massive landslide of refuse in which they're riding smashes to a halt and breaks into countless piles of unrecognizable matter. They'll try to drag the ruined scraps back to the top, but it will be an excercise in futility. History does not cease. Today's capstone of power is tomorrow's crushed, stinking itch under the foundation of another pile of garbage.

Album of the day: Stephen Malkmus "Pig Lib"
Most increasingly obsession-inducing website of the day: NationStates.net

Sunday, February 01, 2004

There were five or six of them, laughing, giggling, hanging out before a high school basketball game. Their uniforms were crisp and neat, caps perched at just the right angle on their heads. Their boots had been polished to a mirror-like perfection. They faced the national flag, right arms held rigid at a slight angle before them, palms facing the floor.

"Sieg Heil." More giggling.

During the opening ceremonies of the night's game, where they presented that same flag to serve as the focal point for a ritual patriotic sing-a-long, those children were introduced as the Lee's Summit High School Junior Air Force ROTC.

God Bless America.

The crowd gave them a triumphant standing ovation, presumably started by the parents of the miniature stormtroopers, who apparently feel it is just fine to allow their children to become trained killers before they can legally drive an automobile. It's never too early to remove children from civilian society to teach how to wage war so that there may be peace, to murder so that life can be preserved. It also keeps the children away from the influence of illegal drugs, something they will someday wish they had as they're cowering in a foxhole in the desert waiting to die.

For Amber Waves of Grain and all that.

Today they are considered part of America's Bright Future. In America's Bright Future, they will be steaming piles of nameless meat spattered across the landscape of an as-yet-unknown Rogue State most Americans will not be able to locate on a map. If America's Future turns out to be not so Bright, the direction in which we seem to be heading at the moment, those children will be turning other Americans into piles of meat in their own hometowns. It will be their duty, their obligation, their pleasure.

After all, they do get a scholarship to the local community college.