Tuesday, January 26, 2010
I've always thought that mass beachings by marine mammals were a little like Masadas and Jonestowns and various other antisocial actions taken by individuals and groups of individuals and even little communities of socialists that had not been corrupted by the allure of voting that could be probed, alien puns intended, for deeper meanings about the interactivity of various idiotic lifeforms the various idiotic Gods had decided in Their wisdom to dump on this doomed and dying planet for their sheer entertainment value.
When I designed the cover for the One Minute President, I chose to construct a collage of a big black whale (presaging former Secretary of State Colon Bowel, not some albino honkey Moby Dick, but a mean blooded buck) having his back broken by a rampaging Statue of Liberty after already having written in the introduction to the book that transformed George W. Bush from an inquisitive young drunk into the most powerful developmentally disabled asshole on earth: The One Minute President is not merely the stinging indictment of a system of government and thought so bereft of meaning and morality that even whales beach themselves on our shores to protest it.
I'm sure my conviction that marine mammals and I share a commitment to self-annihilation stems from having encountered herds of the beasts in a small boat on the Long Island Sound during my deformative years and having those butt hole surfers scare the fecal detritus out of me by flipping the boat en feet into the air in a playful display of inter species bonding that I still do not fully appreciate.
I write several pages every day outside my paying jobs and have been writing several pages every day for more than 40 years. Assuming that I only averaged 10 pages a day (although I sometimes write 50 pages in a single outburst and rarely write fewer than 1,000 words) during this period of ludicrous production of virtual cave graffiti, in the more than 145,000 pages of invective and satire and savage indignation I have produced over the years, who would be surprised that I often return to the idea of mass suicides among various species on a planet ruled by idiots and mock such events with the same ferocity I exhibit when discussing common poopadoodle?
For instance, today I happened across a piece I originally wrote in the third year after 9/11 (note the coded news cycle info), when the calendar changed because the world had suddenly become such a new and amazing place where everything was possible and people, plants, animals, and pure energy were for once able to share their perceptions about reality, fantasy, and poopadoodle. Or did I just imagine the horse exhaust about 9/11 changing everything?
I found the contents of that post particularly apropos considering the situation in Haiti and the entertaining coverage of that entirely predictable catastrophe on the InterWeb and the broadcast news.
You can read the whole thing here.