LUIGI

by Peter Breschard

SEE IT FROM MY POINT OF VIEW.

YOU UNDERSTAND IT, DON'T YOU? 

IT'S YOU AND ME.

IT'S ALWAYS BEEN ME AND YOU.

SURE I'M IN PAIN. 

GREATEST PAIN I'VE EVER KNOWN. 

IN MY LIFE I'VE RARELY BEEN DENIED. 

THIS PAIN WILL BE WITH ME AS LONG AS I LIVE. 

OR POSSIBLY NOT. 

WHEN THEY FIND A WAY TO MAKE MY AGONY GO AWAY. 

I'LL BE FIRST IN LINE. 

I'LL ALWAYS BE AT THE BEGINNING. 

I DON'T MIND BEING ONE OF THE FIRST, 

AS LONG AS NOBODY ELSE HAS TO SUFFER OR DIE.

I'M TAKING ADVANTAGE OF PRIVILEGES I HAVE HAD NO DUTY CONFERRING. 

YOU UNDERSTAND DON'T YOU? 

YOU GET THAT DON'T YOU? 

IT IS OUR SYSTEM. 

IT'S A PAYOFF. 

A BRIBE. 

SAID THE ORANGE PUSSYCATS. 

WE ARE IDIOTS ABOUT EVERYTHING. 

WITH ONE OR TWO EXCEPTIONS. 

IF THAT MANY? 

RIGHT? 

RIGHT OR WRONG? 

YES OR NO?

HOW CLOSE DO YOU HAVE TO BE? 

DO YOU HAVE TO LOOK AWAY FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD? 

HOW CLOSE DOES CARNAGE HAVE TO COME? 

TO YOUR CITY? 

IN YOUR COUNTRY? 

TO YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD? 

TO YOUR HOME? 

TO YOUR BED? 

DOES CARNAGE FOLLOW YOU TO ITS GRAVE? 

TO YOUR GRAVE? 

AND WHAT WOULD YOU DO TO STOP IT? 

WHAT DOES THE LAW HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING? 

THE GREAT ABOLITIONIST JOHN BROWN FAILED AT HARPER'S FERRY 

BUT SUCCEEDED ELSEWHERE. 

HE RAIDED PLANTATIONS WHERE SLAVES WERE KEPT. 

BEFORE HARPERS FERRY BROWN MANAGED TO FREE SOME SLAVES.

HE TOOK HOSTAGES WHILE DOING SO. 

WHERE WAS THE MORALITY THERE? 

IS FREEING SLAVES NOT THE MOST NOBLE OF AMBITIONS? 

NOW THERE IS A MAN DEAD WHO PARTICIPATED IN, 

NO, 

HE LEAD, 

A DEADLY HEALTH INSURANCE FLIMFLAM

 CAUSING INCALCULABLE PREVENTABLE DEATHS.

THE SLAUGHTER OF INNOCENTS.

THE RIGHT TO DEFEND A THIRD PERSON 

GENERALLY COMES FROM THE RIGHT OF SELF-DEFENSE. 

FACTS THAT WOULD EXCUSE A KILLING IN SELF-DEFENSE

 WILL ALSO EXCUSE A KILLING IN DEFENSE OF ANOTHER. 

MAKE NO MISTAKE

THE MAN I KILLED WAS A KILLER.

AND HE WAS KILLING EVERY DAY.

MAYBE WHAT I DID WILL STOP THEM. 

OR, AT LEAST, BEGIN TO STOP THEIR CARNAGE.

Texas Two-Step

 12/16/2022

 “I pity the fool attempting to diagnose Breschard.” said Doctor T.

It has come to my attention that a rumor or story or factual report has been circulating that I have recently been discovered to be the proud owner of a bladder cancer. At this moment in time I want to put an end to the speculation that I have been so afflicted by stating categorically that I am indeed dancing with bladder cancer.

Not to worry. It's being dealt with.

Let's go back a few months, late June. My BW, Nell, is teaching a miniatures class in Castine, Maine, when she comes down with COVID. She could only remain housed where she was for three more days and quarantines were meant to be at least seven, so it came down to me to make the 1,100 mile drive from our home in Michigan to Castine to pick her up and take her back to our suburban paradise. I like to drive, but a 2,200 mile round trip does put a bit of a dent into one’s weekend plans. The emergency evacuation went well, but on the first day of my drive I made a rest stop for the usual reasons. While visiting the porcelain upright throne I noticed my urine was not its ordinary pale yellow but a glorious crimson.

Not to worry, probably just a kidney stone seeking its freedom. The rest of the rescue mission was non-eventful and from then until now my body has remained gloriously asymptomatic.

Back at my home WiFi I promptly did what any 2022 citizen does and Googled what to do when you see blood in your urine and haven’t recently received a pounding kidney punch from your significant other. What you do is see your doctor. Checked it a dozen times and they all said see your doctor. Probably not a serious problem, could be from driving too much, but you should see your doctor.

I made a non-emergency appointment with my GP. In three weeks.

Saw my GP and she had me take all the usual tests.

A few days later an appointment was made with a urinary surgical oncologist (my dream job as an eight year old). Three weeks.

Meet the oncologist. He fist bumps me and calls me “Buddy”. Twenty-five years my junior and he calls me “Buddy”.

Schedule an exploratory procedure. Let’s say in another two weeks. I could look up all the exact dates, but why bother?

I get set for the procedure where they are to send some kind of alien technology probe up my penis for a look see. I’m cool, relaxed, and wearing a backless dress for maybe the second time in my life. Everything going swell, three other people in the room, and I’m not sweating this at all. They swab or whatever my Willie, and my “Buddy” says that will numb me sufficiently. I have no problem with drugs designed to keep pain in abeyance.

Then they send the Raquel Welch piloted probe up my Precious.

I doubt any of you have ever heard me scream. Let me say here that I was quite loud. It was a feeling I can only imagine to be similar to having a saguaro cactus shoved through that tiny, tiny hole at the tip of the penis. Aside from what might be considered impolite screamed verbiage I distinctly remember yelling at the top of my lungs that I should start singing in my usual horrible voice so at least the three of them could experience some pain. I don’t know how long the pain lasted but rather rapidly my “Buddy” called a halt to the procedure. My guess is “Buddy” didn’t wait long enough for the pain killer to take effect. But that’s just an amateur’s opinion.

Buddy came in later and apologized. I was most gracious and said words to the effect of “shit happens”.

Schedule a procedure where they’ll put me under general and try to remove a tumor in my bladder. Three weeks more.

Meantime I see my GP again and she reads the report, which I’d already perused

Apparently there were some code words I’m not privy to, that indicated I didn’t have a swell time with my last procedure.

Meantime I’m having MRIs or other very expensive shit like that. Again I could look it up, but I’m not going to. Interrupts my narrative flow.

Three weeks and I’m on an operating table for the first time since I had my tonsils taken out when I was about 10. I’ve been one healthy camper much to the surprise of many.

They put me out. They go in. I wake up. Eventually my “Buddy” let’s me know that he couldn’t do the whole job since my bladder is the proud owner of a “diverticulum” which is basically the same thing as a corner pocket on a pool table. Buddy couldn’t get into the pocket to remove everything. Probably never played pool in a barroom when he was cracking those texts in undergrad. Lab says definitely cancer.

Schedule another what they call a TURBT. (trans urethral resection of bladder tumor). Buddy also informs me around this time that I’ll probably have to have my bladder removed. Happy! Happy! Happy!

Another month passes and Buddy goes in again. Gets most I guess. Lab tests, similar shit.

Buddy recommends me to one of his work pals who I guess will be handling my chemo. Three more weeks to meet the guy. New doc comes to my appointment and shows such concern for my case that he’s reading my file for the first time as he’s talking to my BW and myself. Such professionalism. I can do cold reads better than that.

I have to credit Buddy and the other guy with one thing. They both suggested I get a second opinion. Nearest good hospital is University of Michigan about an hour away. Buddy told me some of his patients don’t get a second opinion because it’s too far away. I don’t kiss my bladder goodbye that quickly, and I like to drive.

A month later at U of M. Welcome to OZ. New doc is another surgical oncologist. It seems to me, although my BW disagrees, that she was ready to remove my organ (What - no monkey?) until I ask her if there is a way to treat my condition other than surgery.

And she says “When you have a hammer.”

Anybody who knows me reasonably well understands my style includes a healthy respect for non-elaboration. Basically I aim for an audience which is at least as clever as a bright sophomore in high school. At that age you shouldn’t need to have everything explained to you. “When you have a hammer” should be enough for a good reader to bring to mind “When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” What’s necessary with a little mental work, and no more.

Click.

New doc suggests I see a radiologist in her group. An alternative including radiation and chemo is proposed instead of removing my pal, myself, my bladder.

Radio guy gives me a COVID fist bump but definitely doesn’t call me “Buddy”.

Another TURBT is scheduled in a month which happens to have been yesterday.

I’m writing this with another catheter shoved up my cock, that’s what happens after every one of my TURBTs and this is my third TURBT. Definitely not the definition of “A real pisser.” (Pissah for youse Bostonians.)

Yesterday my BW chats with my second opinion first doc while I’m still under anesthesia and I’m later informed that the doc says that she’s “cautiously optimistic” after scraping my bladder again that I might not need any further treatment. We’ll hear about that in another five days or so but will probably have to schedule another extremely expensive MRI. (I love the way the medical profession makes up imaginary numbers for their billing departments. Hey, we’ll charge the government 30K for this and by the way you still owe us a hundred bucks. I bring them an imaginary 30K worth of business and they still want a hundred bucks from me? I’d say decimate the MBAs but I’d lose too many friends.)

As of now it’s all looking pretty good. Even if I still need some treatment, radiation and chemo appear to work pretty well. But there’s hope that I might not need any at all.

With any luck in couple of weeks I’ll be able to say, like Emily Litella, “Never mind.”

Couple of weeks. I could probably do that even with a catheter up my cock the whole time. Fortunately the catheter is coming out Wednesday.

…………

A quick note. When I get past all of this, I hope to Thor nobody refers to me as a fuqqin cancer survivor. When somebody or something attacks someone and they beat them back and away, you don’t call the victor a survivor. When Ali wiped the canvas with Foreman, nobody called Ali a survivor. When I beat the crap out of this cancer I’ll allow all of you to call me Champ. And Champ I’ll remain until I’m Champ no longer.

................

12/22/2022

Word from the pill pushers is that the cancerous growth has probably been totally removed and has not invaded the rest of my corpus. Will need a few more tests to confirm but this is the best news I could have expected.  I'm so happy I think I'll go out and play in traffic!

AND THEN WE WIN

It’s been a while since I last put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, or chisel to rock, but at the moment I think I might have something to say. Usually I try to write about the moral depravity of corporate Democrats, but since Chump has placed his orange ass all over this country, making jokes about those in power has been so easy just about everyone is doing it.

For a change I will not indulge in my dentured biting satire and tell all of you how to finally get Medicare for All passed. 

STOP TALKING ABOUT HOW TO PAY FOR MEDICARE FOR ALL

Theories about how to divvy up money are like assholes, everyone has one and they all stink. Once the Republicans and corporate Democrat hacks start talking about money, you’ve already lost the battle. You’re talking about meaningless economic theories which leads to a Tower of Babel from where you will never return. Leave money out of the conversation.

HERE ARE THE TALKING POINTS TO WIN EVERY MEDICARE FOR ALL DEBATE

#1) BODY COUNT

Approximately 59,000 Americans died during the Vietnam War.
Since 2014, the first full year of the Affordable Care Act, until now, academic studies have estimated that between 90,000 and 200,000 Americans have died from a lack of health insurance or from inadequate health insurance.
So, in the last five years almost two to four times as many Americans died from the for-profit insurance industry as Americans died in Vietnam.
Medicare for All would have prevented all the deaths from these causes.

#2) GUILT

If you oppose, or do not fully support, Medicare for All, you must bear your share of responsibility for those Americans who will die because they remain uninsured or under insured. Approximately 30,000 of your fellow citizens will die this year and all following years for these reasons. 
If you oppose Medicare for All you must bear responsibility for your words and actions.
Medicare for All will bring to virtually zero the number of these preventable deaths.

#3) WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?

The problem isn't paying for Medicare for All, the problem is 30,000 Americans needlessly die each year because we don't have it.

#4) DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH?

What kind of a human being are you if you let 30,000 Americans die each year rather than support Medicare for All?

#5) YOU ARE GUILTY AS SIN AND YOUR ASS IS GOING TO HELL

In opposing Medicare for All you are actively keeping Medicare for All from preventing the preventable deaths of 30,000 Americans each year. You, and people like you, bear responsibility for these deaths. Hope you have a good night’s sleep.

#6) IF YOU DON’T LIKE WHAT’S ON THE MENU, GO EAT SOMEWHERE ELSE

If you have a better plan for preventing the preventable deaths of 30,000 Americans a year, I'd like to hear it. And how many people will unnecessarily die every year from preventable causes if we go your way?




And that should shut them up but good.

These are the talking points. Go get ‘em, kids. Watch those idiots squirm.

Pro-Obamacare Demonstration Outside White House

“This was today’s headline, ‘Healthcare Advocates Demonstrate Outside White House Demanding Obamacare Be Expanded.’ Following a protest outside the White House today, we had a chance to sit down with one of the organizers. This spokesperson agreed to our interview only under conditions of complete anonymity. We agreed to his request. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“You are most certainly welcome. We just want to reassure you that our viewers will only be seeing a vague outline on their screens and your voice is being electronically altered so that it will be entirely unrecognizable.”

“I appreciate your efforts.”

“So, there were a few hundred representatives of your organization marching outside of the White House today. What message were they attempting to deliver to President Trump?”

“Well, Charlie, as I’m sure you know, the demonstration in Washington was all about Obamacare and why it should be kept in place. We’re hoping to convince President Trump and the rest of the Republicans just how much it would hurt the health insurance business if Obamacare were to be repealed.”

“But aren’t the insurance companies you represent complaining about how much money they’re losing? I mean every day we read about companies withdrawing from the exchanges? What about that?”

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, what business person in their right mind would ever say they’re making too much money? If you want to raise consumer prices, anyone savvy about business will always complain they’re not making enough money. I mean, come on, Charlie.”

“And the companies withdrawing from the health insurance exchanges?”

“There really isn’t any need for more than a single insurer to be on any individual exchange. When one organization withdraws from one market, you’ll see a complimentary withdrawal on a different exchange. Some might call this monopolistic; we prefer to call it efficient.”

“But why the need for this demonstration now?”

“Obamacare has a long history. Even when this program was first called Romneycare, Republicans have had to travel down a very narrow road. You have to realize, Charlie, that Obamacare is the largest raid on the U.S. Treasury ever made. When the Affordable Care Act was signed, the health insurance companies were basically given a blank check to charge as much as they wanted along with millions of new customers who were being forced to buy their product. As long as the consumer had no idea how much the Federal government was being charged, they really didn’t care what the costs were. As long as enough Republicans and Democrats were in our pockets, they didn’t care either. We’re probably talking trillions over the next decade.”

“But what about all those who couldn’t get insurance before Obamacare?”

“Charlie, that was the finest brand of snake oil ever sold. Even before Obamacare, everyone could buy health insurance. For a price. The price for those with situations like pre-existing conditions was exorbitant. Out of the reach of almost all individuals. All Obamacare did was shift that cost to the Federal government. The insurance was still out of control expensive but the consumer never saw the bill. Big checks were sent to the insurance companies along with millions of new customers. There were absolutely no cost controls. We were in pig heaven.”

“And now with Republicans threatening to repeal Obamacare?”

“Grass roots Republicans are demanding the repeal. It’s like a fever. It took a very long time to convince Democrats that Obamacare/Romneycare was actually a Democratic program. Unfortunately, along with that, a lot of Republicans seem to have forgotten that it’s actually a Republican program. Those folks were out there today to remind them.”

“And your prognosis for the future?”

“Charlie, the health insurance companies I represent are fairly certain Obamacare will remain. There’s far too much money being made for the entire program to disappear. We’ve just sent a few hundred of our interns out to the White House today to remind everyone who’s writing the checks.”

“So today was a gentle nudge?”

“Yes, indeed it was, Charlie. They can call it Obamacare. They can call it Romneycare. They can call it Trumpcare in big, gold letters. We don’t care as long as they don’t cutoff our pipeline to the Treasury. Wake up, Republicans. We’re the ones who send you all your money.”

“Well, that pretty much says it all. Thank you for being here. And thanks to all of you for watching. Goodnight.”


----------------

Sale - AK47s - Free Lobotomy with Purchase

John was wondering why he was where he was. After all, he’d purchased the weapon weeks ago.

“And when was it, exactly, that you decided you needed an automatic rifle?” Filling out a form, Marsha, an intake worker, concentrates on her computer screen, making no eye contact with the new admission.

“I don’t know. I saw the ad online. You know. Don’t we all have the right to protect ourselves?”

“Yes. Of course. And how were you planning to use this automatic weapon?” John couldn’t see Marsha’s fingers on the keyboard but he could hear faint clicks as she typed away.

“Well, like I said, I’ve taken it to the range a couple of times. Just to get the feel for it, you know. Ammunition ain’t cheap.” John shifted his butt on the metal chair. He wondered how long this would all take.

“No, it is not. Now, John, I’m sure you didn’t purchase the AK47 just to fire it at the range. Am I right?”

“Certainly not. Not at all. A man needs to protect himself and those close to him. It’s my right. I bought this particular weapon for self-protection.”

“So, John, when you think about your AK, what do you imagine doing with it? Do you visualize real targets when you’re at the range? And did you read the advertisement for what you were buying? ‘Sale - AK47s - Free Lobotomy with Purchase’” This time Marsha looks up from the screen and meets Bob’s eye. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure do. Mostly when I’m firing off rounds I try to concentrate on the targets. But sometimes, you know, I do imagine a whole bunch of fellas running at me with guns, trying to kill me and take my stuff. But I’ve got the AK and I mow them all down. Superior fire power wins every time.” John misses the feel of the AK47 in his arms.

“So, John, you think there are armed, dangerous, people out there who are going to attack you and the best way to deal with the problem is to shoot and kill them?”

“Roger that.”

“And the people you imagine attacking you? Who are they?” Marsha looks at John with all the compassion she can muster.

“Well, sometimes they’re terrorists and sometimes they’re minorities trying to break into my house and sometimes it’s like they’re zombies or carrying some other disease. Citizens need to protect themselves.”

“I understand, John. Is that the reason you carry yourAK47 around town and to the mall and places like that?”

“Absolutely.”

“And like I asked before, did you understand exactly what you were getting with your purchase?” Marsha smiles her sweetest smile.

“Absolutely. I bought one fine combat rifle.”

“And what else, John?”

“Oh, that.” John nods. “I was wondering exactly who was going to get the free lobotomy though.”

Marsha removes her fingers from the keyboard. “John, if you’d accompany me into the next room, I’m sure the doctor will answer all your questions to your complete satisfaction.”

-----------------------

The New Health Care Marketplace - "Nice Rash, Buddy"

Published by
Dissident Voice

“Nice rash, buddy.”

Saul believed Wednesday morning would be the best time for his visit to the New Health Care Market.

“Hey, $55 dollars and we’ll have that urticaria off your face in no time at all. Money back guarantee!”

They must think Saul is a real greenhorn. Everybody knows whoever has the first stall near the auditorium’s entrance was sure to be peddling overpriced, shoddy product.

“Don’t listen to him. $40 and we’ll have you all looking like new in half an hour.”

Another one. Saul understood they figured he wasn’t just browsing, but he was beginning to feel like chum surrounded by ravenous sharks.

“Johns Hopkins trained. Not like any of these state university assholes. Johns Hopkins. Where else you going to find a bargain like this? Number one medical establishment. No finer school represented in this entire bazaar.”

Saul kept walking as two belligerent doctors screamed and waved diplomas at one another. Fisticuffs looked likely to ensue, so Saul and his rash just kept on moving through this health care maze.

The New Medical Marketplace came into existence two years previous. The World Court ruled for-profit health care to be both a human rights violation and a possible war crime. The existing medical industry, pharmaceutical companies, medical insurers, as well as for-profit hospitals and doctors, all folded up like the cheap suits they were. Not a single bank was willing to front money to organizations subject to civil and criminal proceedings certain to bankrupt them. Without lines of credit, the for-profit health industry disappeared almost overnight.

Saul had enjoyed observing the ensuing medical/corporate shit storm. Hospitals and private practices which had utilized most of their manpower filling out insurance forms, soon brought their investors to their knees. Insurance companies, their corporate model based on percentages above cost, began focusing on real competitive business rather than seeing how high they could drive medical billing. Used Cadillac and Lexus SUVs soon flooded the market. Saul, since he drove so very little, and the price was even better than right, indulged himself a little and purchased the last ridiculously large gas guzzler he was sure he would ever buy. He only used it short trips around town. For serious driving, he now rented.

For the vast majority of citizens, the demise of the for-profit, insurance driven medical community was a great bonus. Eventually certain corrupt diehard congressman would lose their seats and Medicare for all would become the law of the land. For now, until public funds were available to hire all qualified medical professionals as public servants, these true free market medical farmers’ markets fulfilled a need.

Saul made his way through the crowd, eventually he spotted the booth where Dr. Bob, the Falafel King, peddled his wares. Saul had done his homework. He knew the Falafel King provided good service for an extremely reasonable price.

Dr. Bob remained one of the few medical professionals at the market still employing a nurse. “He does great work. There’s always enough money to share.” In and out of Dr. Bob’s establishment in under forty-five minutes, Saul agreed with the prescribed treatment and the fifty dollars out-of-pocket included a month’s worth of the prescribed drugs. On his way out, the satisfied patient purchased enough falafels for dinner that night. Dr. Bob certainly knew how to keep a business running.

Driving home in his gently used SUV, Saul did feel a moment of compassion for the doctors who these days had to scramble for every nickel. Eventually they would all come around and accept salaries topped off at what was paid to U.S. Senators. Until they learn the lesson of what a real marketplace is, rather than the rigged insurance racket they’d help perpetrate for so many years, these M.D. gurus would have to share mall space with the local farmers. Until they learned their real value to the community, they’d have to sell their services by the side of the road just like everybody else.

Saul pulled into his garage and returned to the warmth of his home, a satisfied medical consumer looking forward to a tasty dinner.

--------------

A Rash of Terror

Reading further internet text, the terrorist becomes ever more convinced in the righteousness of her cause.

“God’s will be done.”

For months she stood firm. Agents of the oppressor surrounded her, wanting to subsume even her youngest child into their heathen world government. Only moments before she tucked blankets underneath his chin as he continued his fever sleep. It was not right only her child should have to live so.

“Even if my child is the last, he shall live free.”

By keeping her infant unregistered, she hopes to avoid the medical experimentation these occupying forces perform on innocent children, often with the compliance of ignorant parents. But this is merely a delaying tactic, the terrorist knew at some point her child would be discovered. They would demand he be delivered to one of their many “health” facilities. He would become another statistic, furthering their obscene medical procedures and research. 

She knew she must do her utmost to avoid this cruel fate from befalling her child. 

Eleven days before, she brought her child to the group.  All the mothers attending were also true believers, even if most were cowards. They would not subject their infants to the oppressor’s whim, but they hadn’t the nerve to strike out against their oppressor. One blessed child was introduced to them all, and the children spent an hour playing together.

It was not until yesterday that her child showed signs he too had been blessed. She immediately took him to his bed. This morning God’s mark, in all its glory, appeared on his skin. This will be the day. 

The terrorist wraps the child in its blanket. Donning a long, dark, hooded coat, she covers herself, hoping to make her appearance as unmemorable as possible. With a scarf she obscures her face. Cameras positioned by the oppressors will certainly be recording their actions when mother and son arrive at the final destination.

She knows her actions will appear cruel to some. But God has selected these children. Some will survive. Some not. God’s eternal and glorious will.

She cradles her son in her arms as they leave the house. She feels his fever heat as they get into the minivan. She buckles him into the car seat. 

Finding a place to sit near the center of the indoor shopping center, the terrorist slowly uncovers her child’s face, allowing the boy to more freely breathe in and out the recirculating air. Soon hundreds of children within the mall’s confines will also be blessed. 

The measles virus is truly God’s will. The Lord be praised.

----------

AUTHOR TAGS:

Guns, Police, and Gift Bags

At the Hill Street precinct house, another shift begins.

“Settle, people, settle.” Behind his podium, a balding sergeant conducting this morning’s roll call brings the twenty-five police officers to order. “Just a couple of things to run through before you get out into today’s bright sunshine and fresh air. First off: we’re all working this weekend. Demonstrations downtown are expected. Everybody works. No exceptions.”

The sergeant waits for the grumbling to subside before continuing. “Think of it this way, you may be on the street all weekend but it’s another couple of boat payments you won’t have to worry about. Second: Officer Buntz is recovering from a bowel resection so when the cap goes around, donate generously. We’re going to get the family something nice. They’ll be suffering enough with Buntz moping around the house all the time for the next couple of weeks.

“Finally, we have a visitor. A visitor bearing gifts no less. People, listen up, allow me to introduce Ms. Jane Parker, who is here representing this precinct’s corporate partners, the National Firearms League. Ms. Parker.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Good morning, officers. My name is Julia Parker and I’m the National Firearms district liaison for your Hill Street precinct. It’s my pleasure to be here this morning. 

“As most of you are undoubtedly aware, today marks the third anniversary of the Affordable Cop Act and our employers at the NFL would like to mark this occasion with a special gift to all of you. On your way out, my assistant, Robert, will give you each a gift bag. It’s a small token of the NFL’s appreciation of all your hard work. Included in the bag, among other items, you will  find a brand new, never been fired, Glock 19.” 

Ms. Parker takes a moment’s pause as the ripple of surprise subsided.

“I’ve been tasked with reporting to you all that percentage sales for the Hill precinct this past year have more than doubled corporate projections. A bonus check for each one of you will be transferred to your individual accounts next pay period. Congratulations one and all!”

Ms. Parker begins the applause but soon all the officers join in.

“Yes, congratulations! But today we’re starting a new sales year and I just want to remind each of you that you are the face of the National Firearms League out there on the streets. You should all remember that each time you discharge one of your brand new Glocks. We at the NFL, based on historical data, anticipate a ten percent increase in local sales for the following week each time an officer discharges their weapon in the line of duty. So, remember, if given the slightest reason, protect, serve, and fire.

“One other thing before I let you get back onto the streets. You’ve all been doing a great job as NFL public relations reps, but I want to emphasize one point. Whenever any of you are dealing with the media; television, radio, blogs, whatever, always remind the media that police officers never feel safe on the street unless they are carrying a handgun. If you can’t display the weapon to the cameras, at least put your hand near the weapon so it’s included in the frame. We want every civilian in the Hill Street precinct to know that if the cops; well trained in martial arts, self-defense, and all that; can’t feel safe unless they carry a gun, what chance does a middle aged non-combatant have unless he or she is packing too? That’s the sales pitch and it’s a winner! Guns are fun! What protects the police can protect you too!

“Thank you all!”

To polite applause Ms. Parker leaves the room and the Sergeant once again addresses his troops. “You heard it all. Pick up your new pistols on the way out. And Pearson Avenue near 5th is closed until this afternoon. Plan your patrols around it. OK, that’s it. Hit the streets.”

The officers assemble their equipment, pick up their gift bags, but before anyone can leave the room, the Sergeant speaks once again.

“Hey, let's be careful out there.” 

WHEN MONSANTO OWNS YOUR SPERM

(Published by CounterPunch)

Should have learned by now but how were you supposed to know you should always read the fine print on your cereal box. 

You sit down at the kitchen table. Pour breakfast kibble into a bowl, add milk, and eat. That’s how it’s done. Maybe you take a glance at some cartoon character on the front of the box, but that’s about it. Nobody expected you’d need a law degree before a post-dawn get down with good ole Cap’n Crunch.

You don’t expect to hear someone knocking on your front door at six o’clock in the morning. At least you shouldn’t. Cops, bill collectors, and religious zealots sometimes pick that time in the morning since they know you’re probably home. They don’t particularly care if you think they’re entirely obnoxious for waking you up from a sound sleep. Oh, and process servers like early morning visits as well.

CEASE and DESIST

Well, that’s certainly plain enough. You open the front door and a funny looking little guy, resembling the Cap’n himself a bit, hands you official looking papers, smiles, and strolls back to his car. CEASE and DESIST. Well, you can’t please all the people all of the time.

You pour yourself a second cup of coffee and read the damn thing. Blah, blah, blah, your name, blah, blah, Monsanto, CEASE and DESIST, all activity involving, fluids, your body, blah, blah, implied consent, CAP’N CRUNCH, your supermarket reports. You live alone...read the cereal box. CEASE and DESIST.

You need more coffee and your reading glasses. On the back of the Cap’n Crunch box, in infinitely small letters, you read, “By consuming this Monsanto GMO product, you agree that Monsanto shall retain all rights to all material produced in conjunction with this Monsanto product.” You wonder if that isn’t just the slightest bit odd.

Back to the CEASE and DESIST order. “Blah, blah, blah, all products produced by ingesting this Monsanto product including, blood, muscle, flesh, bone, hair, nails, internal organs, ejaculate, sweat, tears, and manure. Use of any and all of these Monsanto products by you without suitable recompense....”

Reading further you are delighted to discover that you need not immediately stop using the Monsanto products which now constitute your body.  Upon monthly payment of one hundred dollars, for a single gentleman such as yourself, every 30 days Monsanto will allow you to maintain control of up to one inch of fingernail clippings (per digit), the equivalent amount of fluids and solids commensurate with up to four flushes a day, one inch of overall hair,  the product of 15 ejaculations, and the donation of a pint of blood to charitable organizations. Any use above these limits must be shipped immediately to the Monsanto processing facility nearest your home.

This seems relatively fair to you. After all, you did eat the cereal and failed to read the small print on the package. “Ignorance of the law is no excuse,” as they say. And since Sergeant Scalia maintains that corporations like Monsanto are human, and you’ve got the product of Monsanto seeds in you, in a way you’ve been royally screwed and Monsanto wants its child support, or something like that. Threats regarding dragging you through every court in the land and hounding you until the end of time are most definitely implied. 

On the final page of the CEASE and DESIST order are instructions for proper payment as well as an offer for additional use of your Monsanto body products. For an extra fifty dollars a month, you are allowed unlimited use of the Monsanto products which now constitute your body. You don’t think you’ll be donating more than a pint of blood, or growing more than an inch of hair, but you decide to kick in the extra fifty anyway.

Not the best way to start off the morning, but you feel better once you’ve authorized your bank to pay Monsanto on a monthly basis. You figure it’s cheaper than court costs. Being jerked off by a lawyer would probably cost at least twice as much.

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BLOOD MONEY

(Also published on Dissident Voice)




BLOOD MONEY means different things to different people. In some cultures it’s the price paid to the victim’s family by the perpetrator, after a family member is murdered. Elsewhere it can be a fine paid for committing libel, theft, physical harm, or rape. If you employ a contract killer, their payment is also BLOOD MONEY

In cultures influenced by Christian traditions, BLOOD MONEY refers to an historic market transaction. When you talk BLOOD MONEY there, you’re talking about those infamous thirty pieces of silver paid to Judas Iscariot for squealing on his boss. After the fact, when Judas tried to return the money, even the bankers wouldn’t have anything to do with those particular shiny silvers. Business leaders back then thought those coins would pollute their existing supply. Money earned by a heinous criminal act. BLOOD MONEY. What a concept! 

Today people are divesting from those international criminal corporations whose business models depend upon the massive combustion of carbon based fuels. It’s been over forty years since everyone with a conscious mind realized the world was overdosing on oil and coal. For decades those involved in profiting from combustible carbon have worked their damndest to disguise the inevitable conclusion that their currency is BLOOD MONEY, and their industries, if not reigned in, might well destroy human life on Earth.

But these are not the only organizations where BLOOD MONEY flows. No pharisee would ever touch the BLOOD MONEY of a nuclear weapons manufacturers like General Electric. Insurance corporations, pharmaceutical companies, and like minded criminal operations who ration healthcare, with profits as their major consideration, should be committed to their own circle of hell as well. Cartels pushing oil, gas, and coal aren’t the only merchants of death.

As in the case of Conflict Diamonds, civilized society should turn their backs on the BLOOD MONEY generated by businesses that are acting against humanity’s best interest. When today’s investment bankers say the money is all green, and everything fungible is of equal worth, they are participating in a convenient lie. Just as trade in diamonds from countries involved in brutal wars has been outlawed; financial dealings with, or stock ownership in, corporations that engage in activities detrimental to the lives and human rights of all homo sapiens should immediately cease. If you do business with a criminal organization, knowing full well their crimes, you become as guilty as they.

Simply coming into contact with BLOOD MONEY corrupts us all. Like Ebola, letting BLOOD MONEY even touch you, can be fatal to all of humanity.

At the present time in the United States, there is little hope of a legal remedy to eliminate the activities of these corporate merchants of death, so a cultural solution must be found. Those dealing in BLOOD MONEY: oil company executives, and those trading in their stocks and bonds; nuclear weapon manufacturers, and for-profit healthcare rationers should be shunned as the criminals they are. If you know someone who owns shares in a petroleum company, turn your back on them, and tell them why. If your doctor is a part owner of a for-profit hospital, take your business elsewhere, and explain that healthcare is a human right, and a the person’s freedom, should not be traded in the marketplace. If a business is dripping with BLOOD MONEY, their employees shouldn’t be given awards by the PTA. 

Extremists will say that some corporations will always do some harm. On occasion some people will kill other human beings, but that doesn’t mean murderers should be accepted in a civilized society.

If you’re doing business with merchants of death and their BLOOD MONEY, there is really no way to wash the blood off your hands.

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Ahab Shorts the Market

(published at Dissident Voice)


Imagine owning warehouses full of second rate bootleg hooch at the very moment Prohibition is repealed.

Imagine still owning a buggy whip factory.

Imagine possessing  billions of gallons of oil, just as renewable energy sources begin chopping major chunks out of your market share. Watching as the worth of your reserves decreases day after day after day.

With every advance by alternative energy industries, the potential price of the world’s oil reserves decreases.

Today, 30% of Germany’s electric power is being produced by alternative sources. How do Germany’s new power producers effect the value of known oil reserves? Replacing oil based energy generators with renewables very simply reduces the value of the known oil reserves. The same supply with less demand equals lower value. It’s a rudimentary equation.

Will a tipping point soon arrive? In the near future, will there be a time when renewables control such a share of energy production that the demand for oil might be so low there is no financial incentive in opposing laws restricting carbon based fuels? Will there soon come a time when the wealth of some nations is not measured by the amount of oil beneath their sands?

Perhaps. It’s one possibility.

What would happen then? Many things. You might be witnessing some of the inevitable results right now.

For decades upon decades the Middle East has been the industrial world’s oil bank. Keeping that particular neighborhood in turmoil has been of extreme benefit to oil consumers. The Oil Crisis of 1973 was just one illustrating instance of how expensive it can get when oil producing nations agree on anything. Middle Eastern instability has been a key element in keeping energy prices low.

But what if the price of oil becomes so low that the instability of the Middle East is of little consequence to the industrial world? What if there is no financial benefit in keeping those nations in turmoil? What if alternative energy sources turn the current flow of oil into a glut on the market?

For many years Israel has been America’s forward base in the Middle East. What if, when oil becomes a too plentiful commodity, the United States no longer cares about events in that portion of the globe? Would Israel remain such a valued ally to its greatest benefactor? What would Israel do if it realized it would soon be of decreasing value to Imperial America? Would it seek to annex certain real estate immediately, instead of waiting until a time when its currency is of decreasing benefit to its benefactor?


Change of any kind involves cost. As renewable energy sources continue their march to eventually replace oil, markets will shift, the earth’s atmosphere may well change, and nations will reevaluate their geopolitical alliances. Some will see the future and act upon it sooner than others.

When employing disruptive technologies such as today’s renewable energy generators, there will always be consequences.


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Thank You, Justice Alito

Thank you, Justice Alito, that for once and for all you’ve produced irrefutable proof that five members of the current Supreme Court are entirely bat shit crazy.

Thank you for illustrating how extremists can carry any insane notion to a logical conclusion. The conclusion being, in this case, that you and those other four judges are indeed bat shit crazy.

But I really want to thank you for something else entirely.

Hey, Secretary Clinton, how would you like to make the Supreme Court decision mostly moot, help women receive affordable healthcare, while submarining a leading light of the Republican Party and playing havoc with the opposition as well?

Secretary Clinton should support Republican Governor Bobby Jindahl in his call for having the FDA classify oral contraceptives as being available for purchase over-the-counter.

Isn’t that pretty simple?

Now nothing other than a few retirements will undo the harm done by the Moron 5 currently holding sway on the Supreme Court, but making oral contraceptives available over-the-counter will certainly make Alito’s decision a little more meaningless. And at the same time we could all thank Hobby Lobby for assisting in making oral contraception more easily available. (Them old pesky unintended consequences.)

Secretary Clinton would remain a champion of human rights. In associating herself with Jindahl, she would compromise the governor forever in the eyes of most Republicans, eliminating one of that party’s brighter lights. And Secretary Clinton would make a life saving drug available to as many women as possible give present legal circumstances. This can be done right now.

Which begs the question: Why didn’t Democratic Presidents have the FDA classify oral contraceptives as over-the-counter in either the Clinton or Obama administrations?

It could have been easily accomplished by either Presidents Clinton or Obama. No need for legislation or anything complicated . All it would have taken was the stroke of a pen by a department entirely under the jurisdiction of the President of the United States.

It would take a fairly cynical person to come to the conclusion that Democrats refuse to classify oral contraceptives as over-the-counter drugs when they have the chance because they want to keep the argument with  Republicans over contraception raging as long as possible. If oral contraception being easily available ended a fierce debate that has brought more women to the Democratic side, perhaps the Dems really don’t give a damn about the health and well being of women, as long as they keep voting Democratic.

But that’s probably too cynical. A less cynical reason is Democratic Presidents are far too dependent on the cash criminal pharmaceutical corporations send their way.

Or perhaps both.

So here’s your chance, Secretary Clinton. You can immediately aid women all across America by insisting oral contraceptives be more easily accessible, while at the same time compromising the opposition party .

Or, you can do nothing and show that like most national Democratic leaders, you’re more interested in winning elections and accumulating money than in the lives and well being of American women.


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Are All Capitalists Scumbags?

We have become unstuck in time. The dj plays the same eight bars over and over and over again. There is no progression. Immature minds dominate the discussion and an entire nation has become fixated on problems which at one time would have been decided in moments and now explode upon the national consciousness in an eternal loop of noise and flashing lights. The accountants have taken over the asylum and all they know how to do is count pennies.

When Jesus Christ drove the money changers from the temple, how was he to know they would all end up on Wall Street and in the Oval Office?

For the record there are certain occupations which will exist for the foreseeable future. There will be firefighters. Probably police. Certainly garbage collectors. And sewer workers. And, one way or another, there will be money changers.

Money is simply a tool. Like interstate highways or contract law, money exists to facilitate social existence. Money is not an end to itself. It should never be a reason for either vetoing or promoting vital national interests. When was the last time someone immediately created a spreadsheet when a major hurricane hit? Were accountants the most necessary professionals following Pearl Harbor?

Jesus Christ has already put these bean counters in their proper place, and it’s not anywhere near where major decisions should be made.

The United States has become a nation which focuses on the sewer system at the expense of creativity and stability. When those in charge of designing Paris sought to put their vision into effect, of course they kept the sewers in mind, the sewers will always be a factor, but first came the vision. In today’s U.S., the sewers of money have taken over the conversation and the vision has been discarded by those who can only see as far as the pennies in their hands.

Are all Capitalists scumbags? Probably not. But anyone who describes themself as a Capitalist might very well be. Citizen. Parent. Republican Democrat. Conservative. Liberal. Progressive. Golfer. Humorist. These are some of the choices one might take to describe oneself. Why the hell would anyone describe themself as a Capitalist? “Hi! My name’s Fred and I’m a Capitalist. I believe we should pile together all the money we can, take as much as possible for ourselves, and fuck the rest of you. Hi! I’m Fred, and I’m a Capitalist.”

Never forget that Wall Street isn’t filled with the masters of the universe, it’s populated by immature egoists who think the money is all green, and as long as they can get theirs, who gives a fuck? That’s about as elegant a thought as you’ll ever get from those money changers.

Think about it this way. We all have to stop Global Warming. That’s the goal. If we don’t, there will be billions of dead grandchildren. How to do it is the problem. Shut down coal. Solar. Wind. Geothermal. All of the options have to be taken into consideration. These are critical times. Life and death.

And if some Capitalist says coal is cheaper and we should keep those smokestacks blowing cause there’s a market and all that, well, what can I say, that’s pretty much the definition of a scumbag.


Money is an important tool. But only scumbags put it before the air we breathe and the earth from which we derive our sustenance.

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The Affordable Care Act - The Human Rights Violation for Liberals

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” 

Unalienable Rights. Self-evident Rights. You might say the modern definition of Human Rights springs directly from that unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America. You probably wouldn’t be given much of an argument. 

President Obama on healthcare. “Well, I think it should be a right for every American.” Obviously healthcare as a right isn’t self-evident to President Obama. 

Let’s make this all very simple. Healthcare is a Human Right self-evident to most of the world. Healthcare is as much of a Human Right as Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. This self-evident fact might not be evident to President Obama and his ilk, but that does not mitigate their Human Rights violation. 

What is Slavery, if not a Human Rights violation? A human being is commoditized and their right to Liberty is forcibly taken from them and sold in the marketplace. Slaves are perpetrators of no crime but, often legally within a state, their right to Liberty is bought and sold like so many shares of stock.

What is it called when a person’s self-evident Human Right to Healthcare is bought and sold? Certainly not slavery, since that’s when the Human Right of Liberty is bought and sold. Murder is when Life is taken for no justifiable reason. And the ability to deny a human being the right to dream has yet to become marketable.

We don’t know what crime to call the “for-profit” Healthcare system in the United States, where the ability to ease pain is withheld until a certain price is met. “Pay or die” comes very close to the situation at hand. Simple extortion. The protection racket. The most base terrorism. The AMA. The for-profit medical insurance business.

And that’s where the Human Rights violation for President Obama and the rest of the Affordable Care Act’s supporters comes in. The ACA, at its core, is a funding mechanism for the present corrupt for-profit Healthcare system. 

Imagine for a moment, a 55-year-old man in the center of an auction ring, the bidding is expensive and furious. Various hospitals vie for the right to slice him apart like a salami. They can run up the price of any operation as much as they wish since the sucker at the center of attention and his friends are the ones who are paying these cartels to cut him up. The 55-year-old paid good money so these doctors and businessmen could exorbitantly profit from withholding life-sustaining procedures until their price is met. 

What the Affordable Care Act does is pool all the extortion payments into one big pot where insurance providers (Human Rights violators) skim 30% off the top before making inflated payments to for-profit extortionist hospitals and doctors (more Human Rights violators) so that the next year they can up their premiums in order to continue making 30% off the top. Simple, isn’t it?

In other words, ACA simply tosses more fuel onto the fire which will eventually make wage slaves out of an entire nation. Obama and friends are abetting the anti-Human Rights for-profit Healthcare industry. If this were the old slave system, the ACA would be the Yankee clipper ships plying the Triangular Trade, keeping the slave markets profitable. 

So there you have it. The Affordable Care Act helps maintain the anti-Human Rights for-profit Healthcare system as it continues to plunder the American people, “your money or your health.” 

ACA supporters - the New Anti-Abolitionists.

Healthcare Slaughterhouse 5

The common cow. In the best of circumstances all of a cow’s needs are met from birth to the final reckoning by businesspeople who shell out real money to maintain its good health, and fatten it up before the final knife. There are many expenses involved before the big payoff, when the fully grown bovine amiably strolls into the slaughterhouse.

Now imagine, if you will, that same cow having to pay for its own feed and medical services out of its cowshit minimum wage while doing all the work. Basically, the industrial rancher would be paid for the cow to serve him its entire life. Wouldn’t even need to send the cow to the slaughterhouse. The cow just pays the last of its wages for a few shots of morphine at the end and is buried to fertilize where the next cow will grow its own feed.

It’s the perfect market, for the industrial rancher.

It’s the perfect market for the American Healthcare system.

Now, instead of the lowly cow, imagine that you are the profit center for the delightful American For-Profit Healthcare system.

From the moment you are born, from before you are born, the insurance companies, the for-profit hospitals, the pharmaceutical companies, take 20%, 30% off the top from every dime spent, on every transaction, for your medical care and well being. X-rays, vitamins, consultations, money goes through the insurance companies (who encourage price gouging in order to continue to raise their rates and skim their sometimes set percentage from a higher gross), to the hospital administrators (who enjoy all the benefits of interlocking boards of directors), to the pharmaceutical companies (get as much from the healthy, sick, and dying as a docile government will allow), eventually dropping a set fee on your friendly neighborhood MD.

Every day for the rest of your life you will pay a fee to the For-Profit Medical Establishment so they do not withhold life saving drugs and procedures. Don’t think for a second that you will ever work for yourself. You are working for them. They are literally holding a scalpel to your throat. Don’t assume for a second that the present horrific situation is as bad as it will get. There is a distinct possibility of things becoming much, much worse.

Imagine, for a moment, if all the members of the For-Profit Medical Establishment had their way and could charge as much as they wanted, as their brothers and sisters in the pharmaceutical companies already do. Hospitals would be able to demand as much as they wished, because the insurance companies profit each time the hospitals charges more since they get to charge higher premiums owing to increased expense. And the insurance companies are supposed to control costs! Whoopsy! It’s such a lovely racket. Whoopsy! It’s already happening. But now that everyone has to have insurance, where is next quarter’s profit increase coming from?


Right now hospitals all over the United States are performing useless, expensive procedures on the terminally ill in order to inflate their bottom line. This type of scam will continue and spread, given the for-profit nature of our Healtchcare establishment. There is a distinct disincentive to control costs. It’s only going to get worse. Much worse.

Similar to the way Capitalism doesn’t care one way or another whether a product is produced using slave labor or not, a For-Profit Healthcare system doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the health and well being of any individual. It’s For-Profit, you moron, it’s not For-Humanity. If a For-Profit hospital could get away with it, they’d hang the terminally ill up on a hook in cold storage, barely keeping them alive, and perform every outrageously expensive procedure they can imagine. The insurance companies encourage this. The pharmaceutical companies will always be in for a cut and, unfortunately, there are probably enough MDs around willing to line their own pockets at the expense of those about to die and the general public.

This is already happening. Rest assured these business procedures will only spread to every aspect of America’s Healthcare system. Shouldn’t be long before little Jane and Johnny are going in for an MRI every single time they stub their toe. Can’t be too careful these days! Suckers.

And then, surprise, surprise, everyone starts paying half their wages to the insurance companies. The structure is already set. Who do you think is going to stop it?

Just remember, to any For-Profit enterprise you are merely a cow.

And “To Serve Man” is a cookbook.


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