This from late 2001:

As I careen around the edge of what my mother would call polite society, it occurs to me several times daily that the culture that we live in has basically stopped telling itself the truth. Are we really better off not letting the school principle spank our kids when they act like we did when we got our asses pounded? Are the hyper-active fruits of our loins truly deserving of that little Ritlin capsule that turns them into something out of One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest? Is a public ban on such things as cigarettes really worth the corresponding erosion of our personal liberties? Apparently, many citizens have set aside whole seconds to think things over and have decided that yes, all of the above are truly wise and benevolent decisions. I have spent whole liters of low-rent whiskey, whole twelve inning games, whole boxes of TeAmo Cigars contemplating these very things. Below, I alliterate how I come down on such things as Rule by Mob and child-rearing according to Spock, as well as the omnipresent verbal beat down of Oprah and Rosie fucking O'Donnell.


Gentlemen, I'm here to deliver the weekly

BILE
Volume II

1) The Logical Trap of the True Democracy:
Okay folks, let's get a few things said upfront. First, not one of our founding fathers ever, in his wildest dreams, contemplated making these United States into a true democracy. James Madison fucking said it. It's right there in the Federalist Papers. Words to the effect of:

Hey, I know you want representation, but let's not bullshit ourselves. Some of you people are fucking idiots who have no more right deciding the fate of a nation than you do trying to teach a domesticated animal to play a reeded fucking instrument. However, me and the guys gots us a plan. So, take your ignorant unwashed asses to the polls and vote for whichever of us can manage to stay sober for six consecutive hours into these positions of power and let us decide what oughta happen. If we fuck it up, don't vote for us again. If the fuck ups are really bad, these other cats whom Georgie Treeteeth will appoint will slap us on the ass and get us into line.
Cheers,
Jamie the Madman

All people are not created equal. The founding document was a little unclear on the basis of that concept. While all people are endowed with an inalienable right to equality of opportunity, some people are fucking dolts while others tend to make use of the grey matter provided us by the Omnibenevolent Problem Drinker With the Bad Ass Temper. The current trend of doing focus groups and taking polls about everything is fucking the whole system over. I get called all the time by people wanting to know what I feel about this product or that product. There are companies who exist for the express purpose of asking people these questions. Other companies exist to call up and query folks about their feelings (not thoughts, feelings) about fucking policy issues. I mean, shit, we can't even make it through a regulation nine inning ball game without the yammering fools in the booth throwing out a topic for a fucking online vote. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, QUIT IT! I give false info to these fuckwads just on the off chance that I can jack up their sample and maybe get them to market pickle juice flavored bubblegum. These sorts of polls have directly attributed to me screaming at the TV in the middle of the eighth because fucking CarrotTop is selling goddamned long distance. Market research has directly resulted in not one, but several Ernest fucking movies. The scariest thing of all: politicians are making fucking policy decision based on the outcome of such polls and focus groups. Howzat? We have shitcanned the tenth amendment and are on the way to wiping our asses with the second amendment because Chet, Bobbie Lou, and several other inbred lunatics have been brainwashed into thinking the constitution is a "vague" or "growing" document? I may fucking weep. No, it was a document founded on the principle that people are short sighted by nature and should not be concerned with making decisions beyond choosing matching pairs of knickers to wear with those godawful 18th-century platform shoes. Make the rules minimal. Leave the idiots to their own devices. Keep the Man outta their bidness. Let 'em have guns to keep us honest. This is the doc that I took an oath to, not some ephemeral, vague sandskrit that can't be interpreted unless I'm a member of the fucking bar. Long Live the Republic.

2) Raising Children as if they are Adults
At some point in the last forty years, and I haven't bothered to research the subject out of scorn for its very nature to find the actual date, an entire fucking generation of people decided to stop teaching their kids by punishing them when they fucked up. Not you and I, mind you, we got the shit beat out of us. Naw, I'm talking about the rest of these slacker motherfuckers who think that they have no obligation to act like sentient beings because they are dealing with "issues", because they are uncertain of their "life choices", and because they claim to feel "marginalized" by their boss, who is a former Marine, and who routinely refers to them as "that Fuck-head". These idiots don't realize that they have "problems", (not issues,) because they can't deal with "responsibility", (not "life choices") because they are weak Fuck-heads who needed the shit beat out of them before it was too late.

Kids, I'm glad I got beat. It made me aware of the gravity of every decision I made. I took shit seriously, ‘cause I might get hided if I missed something. When I did get hided, I learned that I got less if I owned up to it, and never to be so careless as to actually be caught again. Thus, I learned responsibility, the ability to weigh risk versus gain, and attention to detail in covering my own ass. If that ain't a fucking life lesson right there, I'll deal cards with my ass cheeks. Positive reinforcement? I got to fucking eat. Good enough?

It ain't the violence that is the important aspect of this thing. I've spanked my kids maybe three times in the last year. It's them having the expectation that doing something wrong will result in something harmful. Kinda like when they grow up, huh? Spock should have his rectum arc-welded shut for the nightmare that he helped bring about.

3) The Multimedia Bovines
Would somebody explain to me what it is about fucking Oprah and fucking Rosie that is so noteworthy as to merit periodicals in their respective names? Its tough enough for me to dodge their omnipresent lowing on the idiot box without having their huge countenances peering at me from the magazine rack at the fucking check out line. I noddingly accept the fact that the Commandant of the Marine Corps has a reading list, but I cannot, for the life of me, fathom what lowly creature would give a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut that Oprah has a list of books that she approves of. What breed of egomaniacal bitches are these?! Two women who have made a huge living out of openly displaying human idiocy/depravity/suffering for their own profit on daytime TV have seen it fit to hire a fucking editorial staff to further push the tripe that they spew like an infected boil. The two things that scare me are these, my friends: First, someone actually proudly works on their editorial staffs. These people wake up everyday and look proudly in the mirror at the prospect of pedaling this incoherent shit. Second, the publications wouldn't continue to exist, and thus drive me fucking bat-shit, if people would stop purchasing these warts on the genetalia of the national soul. Who buys this shit? Gotta be the same people who watch Ernest movies and groove to CarrotTop commercials. Shoot Me Please.

The Monthly UNclean award For Uncommon Courage (the UNFUC) goes to Pat Tillman. Pat was a Safety working for millions of dollars as a member of the Arizona Cardinals. Amidst much media attention, all of which were ignored by Pat, he enlisted in the US Army with the stated intention of becoming a Ranger and shooting a motherfucker in the face. Coulda used ya in the Suck, Pat. Hat's off to ya. Good luck big guy.

Immundus Saecula Saeculorum,
Unclean