Mammon's Chosen

I keep not keeping up with this. I should stop doing that. But I have a shitload of other stuff to do. Check out Rob' New To-Do List: 

1. Generalized world domination via horror, metal, hip hop, or a like thing--that's where at all starts. I almost had that in the bag in 2007. I hate even writing that. I don't know whether to laugh, cry, kick myself in the balls for being a dipshit, or just keep doing this, so I'm going with the latter. Goddammit. Anyway. 

2. Learn this new 61 key MIDI controller I have that came with fucking Pro-Tools (YEAH!) and a bunch of effects software. And tutorials. I kind of need those if I want to play a piano the way I ever played the guitar, which, when I wasn't fucking trashed, was pretty goddamn great.

3. Confessions from the Think Tank. Thing is fucking excellent, man. Everyone put out tougher than a dope sick prostitute riding the plug's favorite cousin while he watches. I guess this isn't too terribly pressing since it isn't coming out until March, but it's on the list. 

4. Polarity. Holy fucking FUCK this thing is a--it has that second-album feel. If you still dug metal after 2001, you know what I'm talking about. Iowa. Toxicity. Anti-Christ Superstar (Smells Like Children is one of those .0 albums and doesn't quite count) Around the Motherfuckin' Fur. You know what I mean. The things I'm doing to it are pretty amazing to me. Big horror element in the crime--I love it.

5. Other shit but you're fucking bored... 

SO--

Since I'm having a bipolar ADHD day--I think the two are linked, they must be, if reels are to be even somewhat believed. Every time I watch one on ADHD, I feel not only like I'm looking at a slightly more sweetheartish, oblivious version of myself, but I wonder if things aren't getting twisted up on Carl Jung Way. Or maybe we both just share the racing thoughts, and they don't get the electric gut eel.

Dagon's gift to one of his fire kin. Maybe the ADHD kids come from the moon. But I digress.

Speaking of fucked up Gods, let's get on to Mammon! That's why you're here, right? This is what I subbed to Fumptruck. I shouldn't have. Not because it sucks, it's just there's no way that this is what they were looking for. This isn't H2te Mail to the Prick, and it isn't a satire starring Donald Trump--Paul, if you're reading this, and I know you are, you should've subbed something to them a la These Beams Don't Melt. Evidently, dude running the thing knows Palahniuk. If I'd have known that before yesterday, I might have said so. And I goddamn digress again.

OK. Here's my schizophrenic-break reaction to King Cunt's election. 

Sort of. 

I'm going to brutal it up for you guys. You're welcome.

God’s Man is an Orange Hitler Turtle. Mammon the Yahweh, that murderous fuck of a deity loves Donald J. Trump. Piper paying time, kids. Drop jaw to accept the throbbing wand of King Cunt. The meek shall inherit the Earth doesn’t mean that sweetie-pie bullshit everyone thinks it does. The meek wind up dead because they won’t fight for themselves, and in our case the meek are delinquent. They couldn’t get the money together to make a good show of themselves. Unacceptable. Within the problem lies the solution. The problem with the delinquent is that they are alive. That is means you have to pay for them. Your entire paycheck goes to the guy flying a sign on the corner. This is what the Orange Hitler Turtle would have you believe. In truth, you are paying for American ICBMs. For the cop that pulls you over. For the technology that spies on you. For the tax breaks enjoyed by billionaires. For the fact that if all the uber-wealthy fuckers in the country got together, they could pay off the National Debt at very low cost to themselves, that they know this but will never do it because debt makes you relevant in the Global Market. It also keeps a manic populus Under Boot very nicely—national debt—excuse to gouge gas and grocery prices. But no, it’s the POOR! It’s the POOR TAKING YOUR MONEY! The LAZY POOR! And it’s your entire paycheck that goes to the Superfluous Welfare Mother’s kitchen table. She makes $2,000 a week. It comes out of your check. It’s not $250.00 a month if she’s lucky the liberals would have you believe that it is, oh no! That’s just what the radical left wants you to believe. 

Worry less, the fix is in. The Orange Hitler Turtle will give you the Police Purge! Do your civic duty! Join forces with your Local Nazis in cleaning the streets of vermin! Damnable bottom feeders. Too many rats who don’t have a job we can extort for bomb money. How dare you not pay for genocide? Ya tax dodgin' pile of steaming fish cloaca! What, are ya some kinda pinko? Yes, something must be done about this, the parasite, the criminal, you, and that something is Donald J. Trump. America, we need you to get behind the mule on this one. Hail the Superfluity Act, illegal not to have a job, the new unemployment offices are located in the FEMA camp down the block. Report today. Free showers, bring the kids!

If you feel like I meant all of that lunatic shit then I did my job.

Thus Spake Propaganda.

The Orange Hitler Turtle was chosen so that history may repeat itself, maybe for the last time. I can’t think of a world in which this isn’t true. I’ve known since the day he announced he was going to run again that he would be president. No one wants to believe that I'm telling the truth about that except for John Bruni because he's been listening to me scream it and arguing against it for just about that long. The Day--like I say, the fucking DAY--he said he was running again, I knew and never doubted for a second. They could've run Actual Jesus and Trump would've beat him. And as fucked up as it sounds, I never disagreed with anyone who said he was chosen, I only said that if he was chosen in any divine fashion, it was to be the Little Horn of Revelation. 

Presupposing you're not having a little hardy-har at my strange set of beliefs, there is a Bible verse that talks about a false head injury being sustained by the Little Horn. He gets big on account of this because people have been possessed with the spirit of it. Why? To fuck shit up because that's what happens at the end of days, shit gets as ugly as it can. King Cunt's face is the face of a golden devil…his face is how you’d really imagine Satan. Not the cute hapless club owner Satan from Preacher. Not the sex-all-the-time-but-have-a-job Satan of LaVey. Not the fun-loving Levi goat who doesn’t care what you do with your genitals Satan. The real Satan, which is the all-too human psychology of the Tyrannical King.

The Tyrannical King brings down the Empire. It has always been this way and always will be this way. He starts wars he can’t win too close to home. Caesar, Napoleon, Hitler. Donald Trump proposes to go after the cartels with the military, he wants to round ‘em up, first it was anyone he didn’t like and now it’s supposed to just be the criminals, wink. He wants to do that and figures there won’t be any retaliation. If the cartels bow down heartbeat-quick to the Orange Hitler Turtle I will be beyond flabbergasted. I will literally go out and score some H and use it to chop my own foot off and eat it on fucking YouTube, and I feel perfectly comfortable making this pledge under the auspices of it’ll never fucking happen. Sinaloa is not going to bow down to the Orange Hitler Turtle. Preppers all over the country are currently feeling stupid for the things they bought. Don’t, because unless he’s a lame duck, chances are you’re going to need all that stuff. 

Cartel members and their affiliated gangs live down the street from you. If the Orange Hitler Turtle starts rounding them up, the fighting will happen outside your local Walmart. This isn’t propaganda, it just makes sense. Think about itm, man, how the hell does it not? Where else are they going to fight? Are they going to pick battlefields nicely away from the bourgeois? I'm sure they think that. That's how they imagine it. Heh. That's kind of funny to me. No, the fighting will happen right outside your front door. This will create the need for martial law. My guess is that the Orange Hitler Turtle not only knows this--he is counting on it.

I wonder could we the people could ask Stormy Daniels whether or not Trump makes that hemmpf noise that real turtles make when he fucks. You’ve seen that reel of a turtle giving a slipper unholy phallic hell. Hemmpf. Hemmpf. Hemmpf. I could see him doing that, only it would be a bit lower pitched and gravel-y. Hemmpf. It’s likely I have that wrong. I’m not going to think too deeply of our president in rut. I like my gorge right where it is. But I could write whole fucked up fictional (?) sagas about what sort of ugly shit he gets up to with that shaftless dog’s nose. You dig that’s why he was admiring the golf man’s pecker, no? Awestruck, Arnold Palmer and the Magnificent Penis. And here I said I was done talking about his genitals. Questions keep begging themselves, though. Hemmpf. Hemmpf. It’s purely patriotic that The Trumpster (the rags called him that in the 80’s) would enact all of the tyrannies in his lily-white playbook strictly from over-compensation, that is to say like a man with a goatee buys a truck as wide as a four-lane highway even though he’s single and works in an office. Hitler didn’t have that problem, did he, a problem with his dongle? I don’t know. We never had much cause to think of Hitler’s cock. Or maybe we did, and I just wasn’t alive for it and the Silent Generation wasn’t like Gen X or the following Gens. If they had been, we’d know everything about Hitler’s cock, and Eva Braun would’ve posed for Hustler or the like. Or made a sex tape. Hitler was kind of buff. He could do it.

Yeah. I vote sex tape. But I digress.

Wait, someone once told me he had a testicle blown off. Was he short a ball?

We are talking about the construction of a Janus, a deity born of a GWAR song, like ol’ Dave was that kid from the Twilight Zone who drew monsters that came to life— “Hitler realizes his crimes are so vast. he must merge with your Jesus...right in the ass.” Well, that’s Donald Trump, a flesh conglomerate made of Hitler’s rape attempt on Christ a la Sodom and Gomorrah and then presto—instant Little Horn. Only guy to ever get shot* in the ear and yet still keep the ear. A character plucked straight from the pages of Revelation, bullshit head wound and everything. And all the people went yay-yuh. Not enough of us said boo, most of us said yay-yuh. That’s what’s bothering me the most. Trump hasn’t really had the chance to do anything yet, and with all of the script-flipping and back-pedaling we’ve all seen him do, it can only be safe to predict that Trump will be a lame duck.

Did he not lame duck the first time? I don’t want to act like I know. I lived on the street during his first presidency and wasn’t very perceptive. I may not have paid attention once to politics or the news until I was told by my friend Red about the perverted lunacies taking place on Little St. James. Yes, I was homeless in Houston around the time that Jeffrey Epstein didn’t kill himself. I can, however, tell you how people treated the homeless while he was president. They hated us for the most part. The white people threw stuff at us and spat and called us piles of shit and so on, I learned very fast not to fuck with white folks, I am white folks though I try not to let that factor into my thinking so much. If I did so I’d probably be writing something about how much I want to salaam before the Orange Hitler Turtle, and maybe even calling him God’s Man. 

(I write horror but that chilled me far more than any story, that thought of a parallel dimension me who chose MAGA. Alien. I’d have to be an alien…or maybe it is this me who is the alien. I always felt like one of those anyway.)

Schadlingstatigkeiten is a German word for the struggle against vermin. We’ve all heard King Cunt talk about his opponents as vermin. And parasites. Things to be rooted out, rounded up, and exterminated. His followers are pearly cocked for the round up. His followers are tired of the status quo but not in any good way. They want to see revolution for the most wrong of reasons. They want us to take our dialectic back to the nineteenth century. They want civil war, inspiring their fanatics to fight you because you don’t have straight sex, to kill you because you believe in human rights for people who aren’t white, a bloodbath with you because you don’t believe women are property. They want a battle of realpolitik, the Twilight of the Idealogue, Resurrection of the War Ghoul—it’s not settler-colonialism this time, kids, that's so yesterday--this time it’s a fight between the misogynists and…everyone else. Funny how in 2024, in a year we all thought was going to be full of flying cars and freedom and equality that we are working so hard to track civilization back to 1861. 

Okay, I’m being harsh, 1977. How can there still be people out there who think like Archie Bunker? I guess that’s not hard to answer for myself. Most of my generation seems to think like that guy. Most of Gen X had parents who were that guy, so to speak, they dressed and thought like him and perhaps had the same sort of thankless job for the same sort of thankless pay. With shows like that they’ve taught us all to be narcissistic slaves, accepting our yoke from the corporate overlords while at the same time treating our fellow pleb like shit, driving us further into the mindset of the Lumpenproletariat—what we these days call a redneck, illiterate, only watches Fox News, thinks women don’t have a say in who has sex with them, that’s the lumpen. No wherewithal for critical thinking—he’s too busy keeping down with the Joneses…whoever he thinks they are. The people in his face, generally. On every block the rule of thumb is When in Rome…the corporate overlord makes the slave feel shitty for being a slave and the slave, with no one else to take it out on, takes it out on his fellow. The unemployed guy is a bum. I’m not going to say what the gay, black, or Mexican guys are to the lumpen. The Company is Daddy and New Age Archie is the Abused Child who grows up to be Daddy to a family of Losers and treats them terribly for their disenfranchise, but he does it because he loves them, and he never turns on the company and that’s The Way. Never turn on the company, all of the irritations in your life the fault of whatever “losers” there are around you and goddamn if that isn’t why Donald J. Trump is your All-American Grand Slam Breakfast of a Leader. 

We love calling each other diseased and toxic and poisonous and whatever else comes to mind when our insulas are white-hot and the back of our throats taste like rage and copper. We love the idea of being able to point a finger at a person and declare them guilty, then watch them suffer some sort of death penalty. That shit gets Americans stiff as fuck. It’s in our movies, our songs. It’s in everything we emulate. None of us are exempt to this.

It does not have to be this way. The problem is consensus. No one can come to it. Perhaps that’s because the problem and possible solutions have not been presented properly, even though it seems as though every political platform and possibility must have, over many years, been tried and tested by human beings from here, there, and everywhere. I don’t agree with that. There are eight billion of us here. That means each person has the potential to present a political platform based on his or her beliefs. Since we’ve not seen eight billion political platforms presented, I say we haven’t even tipped the iceberg of political possibility. It seems to me like humans, and Americans especially, have actually been rather myopic and gutless when it comes to our political experiments. Everything we’ve come up with so far always turns out to be another oligarchy. All politics based on the reductive Rich vs. Poor and/or Hero vs. Game have got to end. It’s an uphill battle. 

It may even be Pride Rock. We will have damn fine luck getting everyone to redistribute his or her wealth. But there’s no sense in cutting my own legs off before I get a chance to try walking the path. Maybe you could feel alright sharing this feeling with me, and we could walk together. Because I don’t believe it. I don’t believe—

“We’ve tried everything. Only Capitalism works!”

In this country, we haven't tried bitch ass shit but Capitalism. That argument can fuck off.

A shift would be tough if not impossible. 

I have real trouble accepting any platform that presupposes one group of people could be trusted with all the goods. That can only turn into oligarchy because humans are flawed. I’ll say it just like that—or I could call them cruel, greedy, lying assholes who are proud of how enveloped in avarice they are and think you should be too, those are the people who always end up looking after the Great Egg Basket. Perhaps a better idea would be for there not to be an egg basket. It’s funny. We could all run our own farms. Or maybe we’ll just keep doing what we’ve been doing and see something even worse that the Orange Hitler Turtle. For my own part, I’ve had enough of Hitler Turtles, be they orange or otherwise. Goddamn politicians. Imagine being born into a world with no ruling class. I do. I guess that’s why they call me a neurodivergent, whatever the fuck that's supposed to be. Sounds like a buzzword for a biploar, which doesn't mean I'm stupid and myopic. LOoks to me lie the ordered are more fucked up these days than the disordered. The other thing is ADHD. 

Yet there are those who think I'm an idiot because I’m not entirely certain the Orange Hitler Turtle won’t include me in his radical leftist round up if he doesn’t duck out.

That's right. I'm not sure. 

But that's okay. If and when I stand before the Zyklon spout, I’ll shout Hail Eris just to confuse everyone. This only if for some reason I don't die going berserk on the cunts who come to collect me. I'm cool with it. I never expected to get off this planet alive, anyway.