I'm not stupid enough to be....

04/05/06

On being a political fringe in America, at this time and place....

I yell and scream. I proselytize and evangelize. I shout from the mountain top and echo my cry of malcontent from the heavens. I catalog and research and theorize and postulate.

I critically evaluate, analyze, and extrapolate my findings. I document and make notes.

I archive, notate, bring to light, and poke fun at the artificial constructs that rule our lives.

I lambaste the system of fallacy I so despise. I walk the thin line between obsession and compulsion, sometimes engaging in my duty with such veracity I loose sight of my own humanity.

I bring up religion and politics at the the dinner table, because I think we need to start talking about this shit. I mention it in passing frivolous conversation because sometimes I want to discuss something more pertinent than last nights episode the of finger banging five.

I refuse to allow myself any excuses for my frequent longing to "let it go."

The rabid sense of obligation kicks in like the fight or flight instinct of a dying animal, and I must expose the demons to the light for the rest of my ignoramus moron fucking human brothers and sisters. I write pages upon pages of material pointing out the flaws in our existential paradigm, that nobody ever reads. I've screamed my voice to prostration in futility trying to wake my fellow slaves from their self imposed intellectual bondage.

I've taken the stage and mastered the mic, extolling righteous truths from the poets lectern on cold nights for mean drunks. I've stood tall, proud and indignant in the face of glassy eyed cows looking for their quick fix redemption, my convictions seeing me through another day in the plantation state of retail purgatory; and it's always been this way for me in one form or another.

The day I moved from a passive dissenter to active radical was the same day I saw a Fresno PD beat cop smash a flashlight over an old man’s head, that’s the day in my mind when police officers became pigs, and the system became incomprehensibly corrupt.

My hard line shift was the by-product of will to power tyranny of the cruelest order.

A side effect of bullying browbeating behavior so reprehensible it’s makes my bile flow just to think about it. Yes I became a political fringe of the most despondent caste, the radicals, the lunatics, the conspiracy theorists. Oooogaly Moogaly! Yes, the modern day philosophical equivalent of lepers. And I was cast out of grace.

Ya know, the greatest revelation threshold I’ve ever reached is the suspicion that something is fucked up on planet earth and it’s a whole lot more complicated than this infantile good and evil chicken crap, so I did my homework. And holy Shit did I find of cavalcade of disinformation, lies, treachery and assassination’s stretching to the very pinnacles of power.

I found a history of colonization so fucking ruthless it would have given Satan wet dreams for a millennia In a hell filled to the brim with busty nubile virgins; A catalog of atrocities so vile is makes the stench of cat-fish and ass seem like grandma’s fresh cookies; like vomit and chum poured over a grease fire.

Yes, I was convinced I was onto something. And the reluctance of teachers and other authorities to address my concerns was met only with the collective conclusion that if I could sum up into two words would sound like this: SHUT UP! That’s when I knew I was onto something. The system of bullshit and propaganda was rallying its immuno defense against a troubling uncooperative organism.

The Hard line shift had me in its gravity well, never to return me to the old world. A small voice from my pineal gland whispered to me as I descended the double helix of political and philosophical fringe.

“Welcome to the world and everything in it, you shall be given no quarter nor will you be inclined to ask for it. This is the jungle and we are animals in the food chain, if anybody tells you any different they are trying to sell you something you don’t need. Those people should not be trusted, and you should take a dump on their birthday cake the first chance you get.”

Upon examining the label bestowed upon me by mainstream culture there is this to consider.

There exists a name for someone who investigates, researches, and connects various power structures and assets of political, industrial, military and media. This someone also takes their research criteria outside the official press releases of the spokesman of these arenas in order to obtain un-biased information.

This someone will often make educated conjectures that conflict with “a common conception”, there-by rendering it controversial at best, unpopular at worst to the lay person. This someone is often called a conspiracy theorist. The negative connotation associated with the stereo-typical conspiracy theorist is that of the crazed bitter computer hacker or pseudo-intellectual college professor obsessed with personal paranoia.

The proverbial “your just being paranoid…” or “why do you have to always focus on the negative…” uttered by skeptics who feel informed because they watch crossfire once a week is a result of gentle social conditioning perpetuated by a society obsessed with convenience, comfort, and psychological contentment.

This conditioning comes in the form of periodicals, television networks, and magazines in thousands of formats the world over that are carefully manicured, edited, and approved by and for corporate interests, the same corporate interests that provide the infrastructure for what you hear on the radio, what you see on TV, and what you read in the news paper every…day.

These are the same infrastructures that “conspiracy theorists” avoid vehemently for lack impartial news with no agenda. Somewhere along the time-line the term “conspiracy theorist” became somehow discredited through exaggerated stereo-types in popular media; much like the stupid pot-head stereotypes who are unemployed and dim-witted; much like the racial stereotypes of fried chicken eating malt liquor chugging crack addicted black welfare mothers. And even the stereotype of the twenty something pierced tattoo sporting slacker who uses limited whitewashed Ebonics. But unlike these stereotypes, the conspiracy theorist archetype is based in the behavior model, meaning you have a choice.

A convenient marginalization is it not.

The man who discovered germs was locked away in a mental institution because people thought his theories were so implausible he must be insane,
Something to keep in mind.

As a self proclaimed crap hound, atrocity archivist, and bullshit documentarian I tend to get into a lot of political debates with people. I live on the edge of western civilization at the turn of the century. I’ve seen my native land involved in 3 wars in my lifetime. I’ve seen the networks of institutions I’ve been told to trust dissolve into an orgy of corruption, bribery and nepotism. I am smarter, more talented, and more capable than most people I meet that are twice my age, and I serve them coffee. Yes, disillusionment and righteous indignation are the order of the day.

With the second American excursion in Iraq quickly degenerating into civil war, more Americans than ever are turning a blind eye to the crimes of their nation. On more than one occasion have I heard this incredibly intelligent debate point from the maw of some slack jawed moron:

"If you don't like it why don't you move to Iraq!"

This kind of blind nationalism combined with a concerted effort to remain stupid has our cultural awareness backsliding into the butthole of the dark ages. It’s gotten so ridicules that I’m running out of absurdity to attack.

And I think to myself. Why?
Why is it so easy to ignore the growing shit storm in our own back yard and pretend like we can't smell it?
You wanna know why, I’ll tell you why.
With the illustration of this true story.

I was at a bar one night having a few beers with a compatriot. We were parked in the corner under the TV that was swiveled in the direction of the bar. Suddenly we heard a wave of anger wash through the room on the edge of everyone’s breath. A gasp, a fist pound against the railing, and a woman shouted from the back “THIS ELECTION IS BULLSHIT! THE WHOLE THING IS RIGGED!”

The outrage was tangible, wafting through the ambiance of the watering hole this night. We both paused, aghast at sentience within the heard. Could this be it, could some new shocking development shaken the public from the icy grip of indifference?

Could some new bombshell have been released about the Bush regime deep south election rig that is pulling people out of the black hole of celebrity worship? Are people as finally as outraged as they should be?

I sprang out of my seat eager for some new hope that my fellow citizens have finally woken from their stupor and I rushed over to the screen to witness this catalyst. Alas my hopes shriveled in the cold glare of pop culture. Yes, they were watching the American idol competition. A glorified version of the gong show where affluent whelps compete in flagrant mimicry so one may win the ultimate prize of becoming a corporate mascot.

And after all my sermons, all my musings, all my ponderings, reflections, introspection, perception honing, and outrage; people call me the cynic, the nihilist, the doomsayer what have you. Because I give a fuck.

An actual quote from a co-worker:

"Oh, your just a Bush basher."

I wonder if anyone ever said

"Hey shutup! Your just a Stalin Basher!"

My avalanche of plausible information dismissed in a nano second by the knee jerk reaction of a frightened weak kneed sissy.

When one acknowledges injustice in their midst, one feels obligated to do something about it. It's a whole hell of a lot easier to turn a blind eye to the crimes of your fellow humans and just try to look on the positive side of things.
If if takes a nihlist or a cynic to fail to see the positive side of bullshit oil wars, Gestapo style prohibition, and a bunch of end times fanatics with their hands on the most powerful nuclear arsenal in the world then count me among their ranks.

Ya wanna know what political debate is like in middle America right now? Find 5 random people, push them into a broom closet and get them to all to plug their ears and scream their fucking heads off for about an hour while they try to ignore each other. Or just stare at white noise on a TV set until you get a migraine.

That's what it feels like to "think outside the box"

-Scurvy

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