A Bless the beasts and the children …. chief Punk and faux Mafioso, his randy little Punkettes, Punksters, and all his little jack booted and brown shirted little fetishers
B Vain, you are. So very vain,
A The smarmy little punks just love our smarmy little man child chief… the reflections in the mirror …. punks, punkettes, punksters …closeted, super charged., in love,
B Ahh, the hero speaks. The savior opines.
A The big lie …. punkettes, punksters, jack booted fetishers … The big lie.
B So stern, true, self righteous, self loving you are.
A The fascisti speak. The fascisti want The fascisti shows their plumes. Hail the authoritarian man-child con man for the fascisti, closet facisti, all sweet and mellow interested parties.
B With a cross of fire and a white charger you ride.
A Guns for the militia. guns for the cause. guns against the vile deep state.
B Now you’ve got it. Now you ride. Love those guns.
A The purpose, the fun. The kill. That punk authoritarian kill. There is no other joy. The is no other is. There is no other. Mana of life. Mana from heaven.
B Sounds damn good to me.
A The fire. The fist. The power. The glory. Punk and punkette, Punk and punkster …. Hand and hand, with the angels. Punk. Punkette. Punkster.
B The sickle. The sythe. The smile over your shoulder. Watch your back.
A It hustles. It bellows. It flows. Specticles of sinister self inebriation. The atmosphere grows thick … “the last hard man”
B You cannot worship. Blind you are. You of weakness, banality. I need of thE ghostly fighter fom hell. My boy.
A Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. The payoff comes tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. The ground work comes today and today and today. The foundation of rancid. The foundation of disdain, victimhood, the chosen one. hate. Bless the beasts and the children …. chief Punk and faux Mafioso, his randy little Punkettes, Punksters, and all his little jack booted and brown shirted little fetishers.
B ….. The cool, cynical hero taking the measure of the useless, downtrodden vapid. Play me a sad song.
A … the useless, downtrodden vapid … the beliefs of the oh so needy …. the happy lure of the mafioso of their dreams….”There’s no fascist bastard like our fascist bastard.“
B I’m white and a nationalist … so screw you.
A You damn fascisti are just a poor unrepresented group. Harangue the commies,. Harangue the socialists. Harangue the radicle left wing scum.. Just never harangue the damn facisti. Too damn genteel to go that extra mile .
B ..again and again …screw you … and your fellow travelers and your anti American socialist scum.
A BGut babe …” “Comfort the afflicted. Afflict the comfortable.” – Finley Peter Dunne. “The state rests upon the acquiescence of the poor.” Chateaubriand. ” ….. It takes a special soul to harness the pathological banality of the one incapable of a second paragraph or an adult moment ..
B …. Fool ….. emptiness. You wish not to be freed from the want of vigorous thought and left to the purity of visceral hatred.
A The sting. I stand rebuked … So …yes … Bless the beasts and the children …. chief Punk and faux Mafioso, his randy little Punkettes, Punksters, and all his little jack booted and brown shirted little fetishers.
B You should come to an understanding as to those things that are best for you, your country, and your health.. Punks, Punkettes relieve the body and mind of the stress of having nerve, sleepless nights. Gain the hates that grow manhood, the fire in the belly, the volcano in the chest.
A So in the end one must merge with the fates … chief Punk and his dancers..
B So be it and so be your salvation..
A So be it.
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Dominance Games: The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true.
Posted in Commentary,, News, Politics, Uncategorized, writing with tags Books, Commentary,, political drama, political fiction, politics, politics noir, power, social criticism on April 20, 2011 by B SchiffThe dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true.
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