Blood
and Oil 9/11/02
How Soon is Morrissey?
L'anniversaire. Tragique. Peut-etre? Eternal cynic, me. Maybe. Innocents dead? Definitely. American lost innocence? Huh? How many times can a nation lose its innocence? Didn't we have the Kennedy Assasination, Vietnam and Watergate to take care of this? How many times can sweet, glowing virginity be restored before the wound finally wakes up and says, "Fuck you, I've learned my lesson. Get the fuck away with that needle and thread. Let me be the whore that I am!" Time to get wise. At 5:46am, I took a Nixon in honor of our unelected king. Thank you Justice Reinquist for being our better, for knowing what's best for us. Thank you for the moron rather than the robot. We may now shut off our minds and return to our job of sucking the world's resources dry, oblivious to the real price that we don't have to pay. Sweatshops, installed dictators, environmental ruin by gold mines, stripped rain forests, and the countless endless middle eastern oil field that got us into this mess and that our GM, Ford, and Daimler Chrysler fueled addiction won't let us stop as we go spiraling further down the slippery slope of world ruin. Infantile masses whine and moan, "why! why! Why would anyone attack our sweet virtuous nation?" Shut and smell the coffee picked by the $2/day Brazilian coffee picker who doesn't have shoes, much less a mule or a porcelain coffee cup. Keep pumpin' that gas into your SUV and expanding that gap in the ozone over Anarctica and southern Chile. The little Chilean Ninos can keep going blind and succumbing to skin cancer, as long as we don't have to look at them. Keep wearing those corporate brand clothes from the sweatshops of Indonesia. The guns at the workers' heads are American made (craftsmanship!) and the soldiers of misfortune get their little cash stipends from the American companies whose right to exploit they so dutifully defend. Yes you are innocents Americans.. 4% of the world's population using 90% of the world's resources. Yes, you are so innocent. So pure. God's chosen ingrates. Destroying the world one gallon at a time. I raise my glass of Kenyan AA and soymilk to our bloated, oblivious selves who can't admit that one year ago today the chickens came home to roost and they were really big, pissed off chickens. Gosh, if we did that, we'd have to change everything, wouldn't we. Put a bandage on the wound and buck up you brave campers. Turn on that telly, open up that Big Mac, drive that SUV through your suburb, you are a happy hobbit, the contented, blameless denizen of the United Corporations of America. You oh so love your corporate masters, fueling your insecurites, your desires, your deepest basest fears. It keeps you hurtling to your own destruction and everyone elses. Sayanora my hideous, futureless lemmings. Good night.
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Morrissey in Berkely this weekend. I've already waited too long, and all my hope is gone. Broke. Broken spokes on the bike, and money thrown in its direction. His pathetic majesty will have to wait until next time. Opportunity will be missed. Too much money, too much time. No money, too much to do. Work. Work. Work.
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