It came to me as I piloted the space ‘tween fully awake and dead sleep the other night. (As does indigestion… as well as most of my flights of epiphany, which are roughly equivalent to indigestion, in a qualitative sense anyway.)
Folks, the seals have all been opened. Seriously. All of them. The End is at hand. The Rapture is nigh. Soon, we’ll have the place to ourselves, by God.
First, the Tampa Rays went to the World Series AFTER winning the AL East.
Second, the Yankees didn’t even make the playoffs, AND George Steinbrenner officially turned over the club to his sons within the same two week period.
Third, the Phillies (the only professional sports franchise to lose more than 10,000 games, for the Love of Christ) won the World Series.
Fourth and most remarkably, the words “National Championship” and “Texas Tech Red Raiders” have collided in the same sentence on several occasions within the past three weeks.
(Yes, yes. Please save the responses that would remind me that they were beaten like frenchmen by the inbred products of the Indian Territories. I watched the game, and now know what the subjects of a live-dissection feel like. This is the main reason why I did not write this missive last weekend, by the way, as I got hideously and morosely drunk after the 42-7 halftime score, but back to my learned discourse.)
Fifth, a former Commandant of the Marine Corps has agreed to be President-elect Obama’s National Security Advisor. With Hillary as SecState. I’d love to be a fly on the wall of those policy discussions…
The fact that all of these things have occurred in such immediate succession has me wearing a tinfoil hat with a loaded shotgun in my lap, most nights. What’s more, due to the crushing irony that surrounds me at every turn, I have been uncertain as to how to continue in this relentless habit of public reflection and analysis that I have taken up since some point in 2001, when Mike and the rest of my Reserve company were sitting in Cuba, and I became the first unemployed active-duty Marine Officer in recorded history.
Do I continue to shout into the forest with regards to the tyranny of the Leviathan and the insipidity of the sheep who continue to suffer the indignity of the domesticate? Do I turn up the volume on the vituperative sarcasm regarding these items, in hopes that it will become even more widely circulated, in the footsteps of H.L. Mencken? Or do I continue as I began, following in the impressive footsteps of Dave Berry, and simply point out the absurdity and confounding simplicity of the human condition?
Or should I just stop making this so Goddamn hard and just drink a lot, while sitting in front of an empty MS Word document, until I impose my will upon it?
I think I’ll do the latter.
Kids, it’s like the “alcoholic” to your “beverage”, the “fore” to your “play”, the “fire” to your “maneuver”, it’s…
The New Prohibition and All the News That’s Fit to Print
“It will be found an unjust and unwise jealousy to deprive a man of his natural liberty upon the supposition that he may abuse it.”
1) “Oh! I get it now! So if we levy a tax on bodily fluid expenditure, we can reduce the instances of sex, sports, masturbation, and sneezing!” Sometime in the late 19th century, the United States became settled from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans. What followed was a period of urbanization and stabilization in which the forces of “civilization” were to finally take over the chaotic, uncivilized, and dangerous continent that we had finally conquered. This is to say, your Mom became ruler of the entire nation. Wonderful, unruly freedom for that part of the nation that was located west of the Ohio River was replaced with a litany of: “Stop running with those scissors”, “drink your milk slowly”, and “don’t pinch your sister”. This would eventually result in that Edsel of domestic policy: the Constitutional amendment prohibiting the manufacture, transportation, and/or distribution of distilled spirits.
Ever wonder why we evolved as a societal model? Well, I’ll tell ya. It was booze. Seriously. I learned this in Western Civ 1301, by God. One theory that is accepted by historians for the gathering of people into an agrarian collective is the discovery of fermented fruits as an intoxicating agent. As one might expect, this makes sense to me. Why in the hell should I chouse around elk and buffalo when I can settle down in one area and grow stuff that can feed my family the day that I harvest it, and get me shithammered three weeks after I squeeze its fluid into a vessel, add sugar and yeast to it, and bury it underneath yonder tree?
So, contrary to the human nature, these United States of America agreed to stop drinking on 16 Jan 1917. Completely. Like, or “go to jail if ya do”, completely. It was about as well thought-out as snake mittens.
Well, we’re headed back in that direction. Despite the fact that Christ turned water into wine…not the other way around. Despite the fact that grog is the one unifying aspect between every culture except that of the Islamic bent. Despite the fact that it most likely began the entire cycle of human collective interaction. The government doesn’t want you to drink.
I’ll give you a minute to read the article in the above link, and soak this in, as I freshen my drink and chuckle into my glass.
Ready? Okay folks, follow the bouncing ball. Now that you’ve read how alcohol is the driving factor behind untimely death, read this from the Mayo Clinic. I’ll finish my drink as you read…
People, this is fucking insane. I absolutely cannot stand stupidity and shortsightedness of this magnitude. Hands down, the biggest four causes of death in the world are: the application of combined arms, heart disease, stroke, and diabetes…not Drunk Driving, Liver Cirrhosis, or Bar Fights. Heart disease, stroke, and diabetes can be ameliorated by moderate consumption of alcohol. Yet the government is pushing, along with their lapdogs in the media, to reduce or eliminate your ability to consume by increasing the amount of currency necessary to purchase said tonic.
Fact is, our bodies seem to LIKE alcohol. Truly. In the same manner in which our bodies appear to like exfoliants, fiber, and spinach. Unlike spinach, however, alcohol facilitates my ability to sit here and vent my spleen. While moderate consumption of spinach enhances my ability to shit with relative regularity, the moderate consumption of alcohol enhances my mood through turmoil, contributes wildly to the capacity of creativity (name one puritan painter, author, or poet…thank you), and paves the road of societal interaction. Thirty years ago, when we were not so fucking anal retentive, how many “spinach parties” do you remember hearing about? Contrast that number with the number of “cocktail parties” that were thrown during that period.
Consumption of alcohol, in this society, has been viewed as vicious for time immemorial. This is in large part due to the fact that it was once outlawed by Constitutional Fiat. The fact is this: unless you are forced to swear it off due to behavioral considerations, it can actually contribute to a longer and more enjoyable life.
As I read the above argument, one may ask why, in fact, does the government object to moderate tippling? The dealio is this, people: there is a perception of safety and caring on the part of the the government in their concern about your intake of alcohol. It shows that those assholes are “doing something”. The fact that this particular “something” stomps on a right that I have, as a paying customer, to use this legal substance in a responsible manner gets lost in the overarching concern for the plight of those who use this substance irresponsibly.
Don’t think that your mom is running the government in your state? Check this out.
They’re after your right to buy and consume a beer at a reduced price in Massachusetts…
And New Jersey…
Now, you won’t see a headline crying out at the injustice and inhumanity of the tens-of-thousands of tea-totallers who die annually at an early age due to the fact that they would not drink alcohol at all, which may have staved off whatever natural cause ended their trip around this mortal coil. In contrast, you will see report of every single individual who uses this substance in an irresponsible manner, resulting in the death or injury of another. While this is tragic, and is part and parcel of this mortal imperfection, it is not the fault of the substance itself, nor should it be an issue that is considered by the legislature for penalization through taxation or legal fiat. We, as a society, have sought to insulate ourselves against the results of irresponsibility for decades. We’ve tried to ban booze on one occasion, and are well on the way to banning guns. We’ve prohibitively taxed gasoline, although consumption of that resource has yet to be proven as harmful. We are becoming a culture that would rather reduce the access to a given good by way of taxation, in the name of safety, than demand that the individual be responsible in the use of that commodity at market value. I do not revile in the refusal of tea-totallers to imbibe the occasional cordial, as that is their right. However, no individual nor assembly should revile in my responsible consumption of alcohol.
Alcohol is just one area in which the government is hedging into your ability to spend your money or time in the manner that you, as a free human being roaming this planet, wish to do so. Other things on the chopping block: toting a gun (background checks, limits on the ability to buy ammunition in quantity, etc.), smoking a cigarette (taxation), driving a car (taxation), and saving money (taxation and redistribution to a class that will re-elect those who will redistribute). People, you’ve seen the news. We’ve been writing checks that we can’t cash as a nation, despite the amazing creation of wealth. Kick around on this site: http://www.mises.org/.
Ron Paul is right. The Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve is wrong. Tell a friend.
Actually, it just occurred to me. I’ll out-live all those tea-totaling assholes anyway. So fuck ‘em.
2) Reasons for getting out of bed in the morning…
…is finding shit like this:
a) The Italian Job
Oh my God! Yes! I LOVE YOUR MARINARA SAUCE!
Apparently, in Newcastle, Australia, they love their Italian food. We thoroughly enjoyed the random listing of contraband found in the car. I’ll bet that the Jack Russell Terrier is happy that his owner spent time on the inside. Fucker.
b) “Drop the poultry, lady…”
A North Carolina lady REPRESENTS, by God.
The term “weapons of opportunity” gains a whole new meaning in NC.
c) “Police admit that they have a lead in this case…”
Why everybody gotta be hatin’?
I telephoned an excited Wally last night, as I searched for additional material that he had sent me earlier last week which would buttress my argument in section 1 of this Bile. I was in relatively good form at the time of the conversation, and assured him that I would finish this and get it out last night. This was before I started drinking white russians. 2230 rolled around to find Laura standing over my left shoulder, watching me as I slept at my post, hat pulled down, arms folded, snoring.
I awoke at 0630 this morning, in my bed, in an utter panic, as I did not remember exactly how I got there, or if I had sent this, or even if I had finished editing this. I was molified by the fact that “The Bile List” had been lost, when Sean got his revenge on the Adams family for Sarah painting the toes on his right foot bright pink by putting my computer on “system restore”, which summoned the bi-annual return of the Retarded Mexican Mennonites, who immediately wiped my hard drive clean of past information. I spent a goodly portion of today in the reconstruction of said distro. (By the way, I’m sending this in the clear (with all of you on the “TO” line) this one last time. Look up there and see if I missed the inclusion of anyone, and send me a message identifying the fortunate soul who was spared the receipt of this fishwrap. The only one that jumped out at me was J.D. Martin. Eric, please send along his email, assuming that he still wants to receive this shit. I am certain that there are others. Your efforts are appreciated.)
In other news, Sarah has only recently returned from Tibet. Her efforts without the usual support were noteworthy. She did secure the release of Jack Bauer from the Chinese Government, after all. Her return, as well as that of her brother, Joel, were all well received, as all returned to the nest to scavenge…ahem!…um…I mean, partake in the bounty of the tribe during the yearly Thanksgiving feast. I caught several “looks” throughout the weekend, though, which would seem to indicate that something is, indeed, afoot. Whether it be direct action, or information ops, I reckon we’ll all either hang or succeed as part of the same unit, so wish us luck…we’ll need it.
I am just a worthless liar.
I am just an imbecile.
I will only complicate you.
Trust in me, and fall as well.
Immundus, saecula saeculorum,