I've been thinking a lot about the government bullshit lately. Everyone on the internet won't stop talking like it's a grand conspiracy freak out all over the globe. Bildaberg and the Illuminati and Nafta and the Amerio. It's all nonsense. The Greatest Conspiracy ever hatched was the idea that there is a Great Conspiracy. What better to occupy the minds of dissenters and intelligent folks who aren't fooled by the mask of government amicability than a Tale Tale ripe with misinformation?
But, no, there's no grand over-arcing plan set in place by the ancestors of George Bush back in the 1200's.
It's just business as usual. It's greed and the special kind of arrogance that comes from getting away with murder.
What we've had here in the USA is an 8-year long ROBBERY.
An elaborate smash and grab.
They don't want to take over the world, they don't even want to run the country.
Because even in a totalitary government, even if you don't care about the people, you have to keep them fed and happy and surveiled. They don't GIVE A SHIT.
They just want the money.
And then they're gone.
Like burglers in the night.
All these laws, they aren't to limit our personal freedom as much as they are to keep us OUT OF THEIR WAY
while they do whatever they want, raping and pilaging up and down the countryside flying flags of "liberty".
That's the only control they need. Shutting us up. Keeping us dumb with inadequate school systems and reality television and lowered expectations. It's a grand act of misdirection.
"Look over here! War! Secret Government! Aliens! Nazis on the moon back in 1928!"
Meanwhile they just lifted your wallet.
-M
Monday, June 2, 2008
Oil
Oil gets a neckpunch because he's a liar and a thief.
Demand goes up, prices go up. Demand goes down, prices go up. They just discovered Unlimited Oil on the moon, price goes up. There is no law of supply and demand in effect here - no law at ALL, really. It's a "Fuck the Little Guy Free-For-All" and we all LOSE. The only thing affecting Prices at the Pump is some mathematical threshold that Oil Companies continue to push - the formula of "Ass Raping vs. Economic Viability". The Stick their cocks in as deep as they can before the Consumer starts to feel a bit of tightening and some pain - "Ow! Too much, Oil! Too much!" But now we've been primed, they can pump us a little deeper. Deeper each time until we'll bleed. Bam! There's Gold in this here bumhole! Black Gold!
-M
Demand goes up, prices go up. Demand goes down, prices go up. They just discovered Unlimited Oil on the moon, price goes up. There is no law of supply and demand in effect here - no law at ALL, really. It's a "Fuck the Little Guy Free-For-All" and we all LOSE. The only thing affecting Prices at the Pump is some mathematical threshold that Oil Companies continue to push - the formula of "Ass Raping vs. Economic Viability". The Stick their cocks in as deep as they can before the Consumer starts to feel a bit of tightening and some pain - "Ow! Too much, Oil! Too much!" But now we've been primed, they can pump us a little deeper. Deeper each time until we'll bleed. Bam! There's Gold in this here bumhole! Black Gold!
-M
Friday, May 23, 2008
COMICS
I've been a fan of Comic Books since I was wee. I have an extensive reading collection - I say "reading" because I'm not a Collector; I buy comics to read, I'm not a snooty completest who sees comics as investments. However, recently my relationship with comics has been strained. To be honest, I think I've grown and, well, frankly, I'm thinking about seeing other entertainment.
And as I'm walking out the door, taking my stuff, and all the CDs we bought together but I'm not fucking splitting these up, I'm going to punch Comics right in the goddamned NECK. You've got it coming, Comics. Time to own up.
It's been a slow dissolution of our relationship over the past couple of years. Perhaps it's just growing older, changing views that no longer mesh. Or maybe it's because I've started writing and drawing my own comics, which is much more entertaining to me than reading what is being currently published, that killed the spark. Maybe it's just a realization - a moment of clarity - where I came to see that no matter the characters, the complexity of the plot, the detail of the art nor the "revamped edgy for the next century reinvisionment" IMPLIED, It comes down to only one thing: Shallow characters punching each other in the face. After years of quality television (a fine example of creative execution of a serialized dramatic form) like the Sopranos, the Shield, et al, maybe I've just come to expect too much. Maybe it's ME, comics, and not YOU.
This image was the final straw, the final insult:
The "top" writer and artist in comics have taken one of the most exciting, classic, universe-spanning adventurers ever and reduced them to, you guessed it, having a punch up with a giant robot. I cry FOUL, Marvel. I call BULLSHIT, Mr. Millar. If you're going to just not even try, take your ball and go home. Let some of the usual hacks write this insipid shit. You sully the very property you were given to protect. You've been given a Galaxy Hoping, Mind-boggling, Epic Adventure to write and have given us Ladies' Aid meetings, reality TV, and giant robots punching other giant robots. You should be ashamed.
This comic is SO BAD that it's enough to make me give up on comics. But it's not just that it's bad, it's that this is a symbolic turn of form, a narrowing of concept, a dumbing down of the function of creativity. It's a symbol of the glut existent across the whole spectrum of popular comics. It's a sign of a deeper sickness. A CAT Scan showing signs of the cancer inside.
It's prompted my decision to not buy any more new comics and go retro. Reading old school collections and classic runs of once great books. There were goofy puch-ups back then too, but, well, that's what I EXPECT out of them. It was a simpler time in the medium and in the world. Today, well... I guess I just expect too much.
And as I'm walking out the door, taking my stuff, and all the CDs we bought together but I'm not fucking splitting these up, I'm going to punch Comics right in the goddamned NECK. You've got it coming, Comics. Time to own up.
It's been a slow dissolution of our relationship over the past couple of years. Perhaps it's just growing older, changing views that no longer mesh. Or maybe it's because I've started writing and drawing my own comics, which is much more entertaining to me than reading what is being currently published, that killed the spark. Maybe it's just a realization - a moment of clarity - where I came to see that no matter the characters, the complexity of the plot, the detail of the art nor the "revamped edgy for the next century reinvisionment" IMPLIED, It comes down to only one thing: Shallow characters punching each other in the face. After years of quality television (a fine example of creative execution of a serialized dramatic form) like the Sopranos, the Shield, et al, maybe I've just come to expect too much. Maybe it's ME, comics, and not YOU.
This image was the final straw, the final insult:
The "top" writer and artist in comics have taken one of the most exciting, classic, universe-spanning adventurers ever and reduced them to, you guessed it, having a punch up with a giant robot. I cry FOUL, Marvel. I call BULLSHIT, Mr. Millar. If you're going to just not even try, take your ball and go home. Let some of the usual hacks write this insipid shit. You sully the very property you were given to protect. You've been given a Galaxy Hoping, Mind-boggling, Epic Adventure to write and have given us Ladies' Aid meetings, reality TV, and giant robots punching other giant robots. You should be ashamed.
This comic is SO BAD that it's enough to make me give up on comics. But it's not just that it's bad, it's that this is a symbolic turn of form, a narrowing of concept, a dumbing down of the function of creativity. It's a symbol of the glut existent across the whole spectrum of popular comics. It's a sign of a deeper sickness. A CAT Scan showing signs of the cancer inside.
It's prompted my decision to not buy any more new comics and go retro. Reading old school collections and classic runs of once great books. There were goofy puch-ups back then too, but, well, that's what I EXPECT out of them. It was a simpler time in the medium and in the world. Today, well... I guess I just expect too much.
BIlly Quiz Boy
Normally I'd give a NECKPUNCH to anyone taking, administering or Posting a fucking Internet Quiz Bullshit fucking WHO CARES assjackery... but... well, when they're right, they're right. And M The Mordant is the first to admit when someone is right...when they agree with me, of course.
What is Your World View? created with QuizFarm.com | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You scored as Cultural Creative Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.
|
Monday, May 19, 2008
Bluetooth Headset Guy
NECK PUNCH!You've seen these douchebags all around. They're swerving into you during rush hour, cutting you off in the grocery store checkout lines, and probably stealing your 401(k) fund without you ever even knowing it. These self-important, assclowns are SO IN DEMAND that they need to be on the phone all day long, 24/7. And they want YOU to know it.
So they run out and buy these Bluetooth headsets. What kind of bullshit is this? There are exactly two classes of people in the world who should maybe be wearing a Bluetooth device:
1) Military folk, while serving in the military. I'm not talking about some part-time weekend reservist who's lost in Home Depot and has to call Information to get directions on how to find his own ass and then how to make his way toward the exit. I'm talking about the brave men and women who are in service on the battlefront and need to keep in touch with the rest of their platoon.
2) Lobot. Since this group contains precisely one member, this ain't you, Dakota. Get that goddamned thing out of your ear and concentrate on driving your ridiculous Humvee home from the mall.Sunday, May 18, 2008
Mountain momma, take me home
And the neck punch goes to: WEST VIRGINA.
I don't even have any words to fucking SAY to this INSANITY.
It boggles my mind:
And THIS
I am flabbergasted, horrified, and thinking of moving to Canada. You should have to pass an IQ test before you're allowed to fucking vote.
You inbred fucks.
GAH!
I don't even have any words to fucking SAY to this INSANITY.
It boggles my mind:
And THIS
I am flabbergasted, horrified, and thinking of moving to Canada. You should have to pass an IQ test before you're allowed to fucking vote.
You inbred fucks.
GAH!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
A long time ago, in a throat punch far away...
George Lucas, pictured above and to the right, has been in need of a serious NECK PUNCH for some time now. Going on 10 years now, we've suffered as he slowly, painfully, willfully, chipped away at the veneer of our childhood, until the sticky, pink interior was exposed, sensitive and swollen like new formed skin... and then shit razor blades all over it.
George Lucas, like Stephen Spielberg before him, and all Rap Stars, Michael Vick, the Cast of Sienfeld, and that douchebag in the Lexus on the highway talking on his phone, thinks he's way more important, talented, and intelligent than he really is. Lucas and the others suffer from an affliction that cause them to whole-heartedly believe their own hype to the point of lunacy. The Prequels are unwatchable drivel. Schlocky, hokey, boring, badly written, badly acted, badly paced, unimaginative fucking GARBAGE. There's no redeeming qualities to them whatsoever save Liam Neeson's acting, and Darth Maul (both of whom Lucas killed off immediately because he didn't know what to DO with good characters).
Lucas needs an editor. Someone to stand up to him and keep reminding him that just because he HAS an idea, doesn't mean it's a GOOD idea. This guy won the lottery - he was in the right place at the right time and assembled an unbelievable team of musical and effects talent that made his hackneyed shit look good. But then left all that behind along with any original ideas he had 30 years ago to make us watch fucking dreck. Because he knew we'd watch it. Why bother working hard on it?
An extra NECK PUNCH goes to the fans who keep defending this SHIT. They go as far as to clammer for MORE!! Getting excited about TV shows and 3-D Cartoons that look like demo reels from people who dropped out of animation school before the class on fucking ANIMATION, or Design, or basic fucking COLOR THEORY. You really want more shit? Lucas made us a pile of SHIT, charged us to look at it, made us feel bad for not liking it until we were tricked into thinking he was a genius, and you want MORE of that shit??? If he really wanted to fuck us he'd make another fucking trilogy.... And don't get me started on that Indy 4 pile of steaming, shit-filled vomit. "Oh, I'm old now! Oh look! Remember when I did that thing?" Fuck that. It's like that fucking asshole from Family Guy wrote the movie, since it's nothing but a never-ending series of ironic, pop-culture references and therefore his baliwick.
Oh GOD I hate Family Guy. Can I make this a double neck-punch post-o-rama? Sure I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want. You don't like it go start a "that Neck Punch guy made fun of my favorite Cartoon Family Dad Guy dude with Kids comedy I'm a hopeless loser, cry cry" blog, you fucking wussy. I won't get into it right now, but if you think Family Guy is funny, you're at least 95% retarded. Take your dick out of the vacuum cleaner and stop being such a douchebag.
M
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