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DIEWHY? by Prof. Jorge Hirsch
DIE"TIRANNT" by Michel Chossudovsky
". . If you are born at the right time, with some access to family fortune, and you have a special talent for whipping up other people's hatred and sense of deprivation, you can arrange to kill large numbers of unsuspecting people. With enough money, you can accomplish this from far away, and you can sit back safely and watch in satisfaction." Martha Stout
Is every family member in the lineage of Bush helpless victims of Political Ponerology? Are they suffering from paranoidal characteropathia?
A brief intro into the mental illness governing AMERICA
Random Thoughts in a Summer of Despair
To repeat, he was truly the most humorless man I have ever met; in this respect he is surpassed only by Bush and his neo-cons, who have every prospect of dying of a wretchedness compounded by their own deep-rooted humorlessness and the dreary monotony of public life, which, under their domination, has taken on the rigidity of a corpse.
In accordance with the style of this regime, which has simply discarded decency as so much excess baggage, he was promoted shortly thereafter to a much higher post.
We have, therefore, every prospect of losing whatever remains of our freedom of movement, and of thus becoming completely the prisoners of this horde of vicious apes who six years ago seized power over us.
Munster was a city-state set up by the Anabaptist heretics in the sixteenth century. I read accounts of the “Kingdom of Zion” by contemporaries, and I am shaken. In every respect, down to the most ridiculous details, that was a forerunner of what we are now enduring. Like the USA of today, the Munster city-state for years separated itself from the civilized world; like Bush and his ninnies it was hugely successful over a long period of time and appeared invincible. And then, suddenly, against all expectation and over a comparative trifle it collapsed….
I stand before these 400-year-old records, startled by the thought that the resemblance may not be coincidence at all, but may be determined by some frightful law decreeing periodic draining of psychic abscess.
My life in this pit will soon enter its fifth year. For more than forty-two months, I have thought hate, have lain down with hate in my heart, have dreamed hate and awakened with hate. I suffocate in the knowledge that I am the prisoner of a horde of vicious apes, and I rack my brains over the perpetual riddle of how this same people who so jealously watched over its rights a few years ago can have sunk into this stupor, in which it not only allows itself to me dominated by street-corner idlers of yesterday, height of shame, is incapable of perceiving its shame for the shame that it is.
Isn’t this the kind of thing that happens when a people is sinking in the cesspool of its own disgrace? “All that they did was as it should have been, because it was God’s will.” This I read in the 16th Century Munster chronicle.
The unclean essence of a monstrosity.
It was that little-man Machiavellianism by which foreign policy became a series of legalized burglaries and the activities of its leaders a succession of embezzlements, forgeries and treaty breaches, all designed to appeal to the assortment of bureaucrats and stenographers and advertising executives who have since become the true support and bastion of this regime … as a fabulous fellow, a real political Genghis Khan.
He had the look of a man
trying to seduce the cook. I got the impression of basic stupidity, the
same kind of stupidity as that of his cronies - the kind of stupidity
which equates statesmanship with cheating on a horse race.
“In the almost deserted restaurant, I could easily have shot him. If I had had an inkling of the role this piece of filth was to play and of the years of suffering he was to make us endure, I would have done it without a single thought. But I took him for a character out of a comic strip and did not shoot.”
On seeing the not yet in power Hitler
I have been in Washington- Washington, center of all diligence, activity, and perfection – by its own statement. In my humble opinion, however, it is like an immense machine, all sound and fury and producing nothing.
I do not believe in any of it. I know all about ‘telephoning with both hands and feet’, and appointment pads on which every minute for the next three months is scheduled for engagements and ‘conferences’. I know all about production-at-any-price, and the desperate hankering after a pseudo-Americanism. It is the viewing of a life as a kind of gigantic Army barracks which has brought on us the aversion of the entire world. As long as this country allows itself to be represented by this basically hopeless city, we will go from one foreign policy disaster to the next.
I do not believe there is any substance to the idea that people in Washington work harder than elsewhere. They have an hysterical drive to keep moving, probably an indication of a flight from the knowledge of their own inner emptiness. I believe that it is the same kind of false front trickery that turns the slave-driver of two barmaids into an “assistant secretary’, the backyard shack of every housing project into a “Garden Pavilion”, and every discussion on how to cheat a customer of a shipment of dehydrated soup into a ‘conference’.
What is most typical of Washington is deception: functional form, without solidity in either materials or execution, mechanics’ apprentices who are above mere careful workmanship, and at one declare themselves fully fledged inventors or builders: streamlined kiddy cars with brittle imitation leather, ‘functionally’ constructed flashlights with inoperative connections, and the ‘new functionalism’ which would make desks and beds out of reinforced concrete.
No, I do not believe that there are many cities in which as much time is lost in useless bureaucratic reorganization, rejoinders of “On the other hand ….”, purposeless chatter, and directorial pontification.
These gentlemen are all enchanted with my script. Then, just as everything appears to be settled, out of the shadows springs a dramatist’s apprentice in horn-rimmed glasses. This is a type perfectly aware of its own superfluidity, and so expends vast efforts in an attempt to find something wrong, and thus provide at least the shadow of justification for his paltry salary.
‘This gentleman rises to say that the script is certainly wonderful, but that such and such scenes may give offense to the pressure group organized by the Wallpaper Manufacturers, and that such and such other place in the script may not be comprehensible to inhabitants of Mars, prospective civil servants, or functionaries who may not have graduated from high school. The reply that whatever purports to cover every contingency actually covers none, has no effect. The signal has been given for the elderly gentlemen to awaken from their lethargy long enough to attempt to legitimize their own, much higher, salaries. Each now racks his brain to add his own “now, on the other hand …” to the discussion. And so begins the nerve wracking period of weeks of conferences, meetings, telephone calls, breakfasts, and still more conferences which ends finally in the complete junking of any plan for change. The new version has carefully eliminated every natural association in favor of a super-clever artificiality. In accord with the principle “Why have things simple when they can just as easily be complicated:, an attempt is made to fly to the moon.
When I got home, I turned to Dostoyevsky, to him who is proscribed among the bureaucrats as no one else. I read once more in The Possessed the words spoken by Peter Stepanovich, the son of the General’s wife:
All are slaves and equal in their slavery. Everyone belongs to all, and all to everyone, and the great thing about it is equality. To begin with the level of education, and science, and talents is lowered. A high level of education and science is only possible for great intellectuals, and they are not wanted. The great intellectuals have always seized power and become despots. Great intellectuals cannot help being despots, and they’ve always done more harm than good. They will be banished or put to death. Cicero will have his tongue cut out, Copernicus will have his eyes blinded, Shakespeare will be stoned. Down with culture. We’ve had enough of scholarship. Discipline comes first. The one thing wanting in this world is discipline. The drive for knowledge is an aristocratic drive we will destroy; we’ll employ seduction and drunkenness, slander, spying; we’ll stifle every genius in its infancy. We’ll reduce all to a common denominator! Complete equality, absolute submission, absolute loss of individuality. But one or two generations of vice are essential now; monstrous, abject vice by which a man is transformed into a loathsome, cruel, egoistic reptile. There’s going to be such an upset as the world has never seen before. Russia will be overwhelmed with darkness, and the earth will weep for its old Gods.”
I know that this land is the living, beating heart of the world. I will go on believing in this heartbeat, despite all the covering layers of blood and dirt. But I know also that the thing up there that rumbles and thunders is the denial of right and justice, of truth and faith and everything that makes life worth living. I believe this is a caricature, smeared by a malignant ape escaped from the leash.
You, up there; I hate you waking and sleeping. I will hate and curse you at the hour of my death. I will hate and curse you from my grave, and it will be your children and your children’s children who will have to bear my curse. I have no other weapon against you except this curse, I know that it withers the heart of him who utters it, I do not know if I will survive your downfall.
But this I know, that a man must hate this USA with all his heart if he really loves it. I would ten times rather die than see you triumph.
Writing this, I shrink within myself. Soon it will be Easter, and as though in derision the final chorus of St. Matthew Passion rings out from the radio at just this moment.
Now, still, overhead, these white savages steer their moronic automatons, flying toward brutality and crime, drowning out the peaceful stillness of this spring day. I am crying. But it is more out of fury and shame than out of sadness….
Besides, it depends on whether or not one recognizes this regime, born in chicanery, blackmail, and swindle as a legitimate government. I have, since its inception, never ceased to view it as criminal in nature, and as a fraudulent counterfeit of a modern state.
What appears here to be courage in the face of death is merely mass-man apathy. What appears to be stoicism is merely the expression of the condition of mass-man; neither good nor bad, but basically and with a certain satisfaction at being so, nothing. I really do not know how to characterize the spiritual condition of my dreary contemporaries better than that.
The people is insane. It will pay dearly for its insanity. The air of this summer is full of foreboding, and fire and iron must heal what no physician can any longer cure.
But this is how it is with the dear Republicans, and even with this poor imitation neo-con: try as they may, they cannot hide their basic recruit mentality, not even when a caprice of fate wafts them into places of power.
As a man, he is a fat bourgeois whose fears about the coming world storm center about whether his nap with fishing pole and cigar on the shores of the lake will be seriously disturbed.
Images of a world so near in time, yet already become like a legend from the past.
I pressed the man’s hand. For what will soon be seven years, he has suffered and hated as I do. I have no doubt that immeasurable suffering is coming, and that it could not be avoided. But I also have no doubt that the thing that has sustained me for six years, and maintained me in the darkest hours of my life … the certainty that the great monster has signed his own death warrant.
I hate you in every hour that has gone by, I hate you so that I would happily give my life for your death, and happily go to my own doom if only I could witness yours, take you with me into the depths. When I let this hate free, I am almost overcome by it, but I cannot change this and so not really know how it could be otherwise. Let no one deprecate this, nor fool himself about the power of such hatred. Hate drives to reality. Hate is the father of action. The way of our defiled and desecrated house is through the command to hate. Only so will we earn the right to search in the darkness for the way of love.
Frankly, I do not believe there is an ideology behind all this. I believe neither in Founts of Youth nor little political plans; neither in dragon-killer eyes, nor in cherubic cheeks; neither in the retouched blond braids of girls demonstratively bouncing off their shoulders, nor the drums of the imbecil youth. I believe neither in the New World Order, nor in this whole Wotan and Americana gods business … And the Wotan they are talking about probably came into the world in a Houston suburb as the son of a fantasy-minded judo instructor, while his Edda will turn out to be a high-school teacher from Kansas.
No, based on a perspective gained by many years of watching them, I say that it all comes down to colossal self-deception, behind which lurk all the inclinations of fettered masses; greed and resentment, looseness, and rut, and sexual libertinism, and a complete closing-off of the individual, not just from God but from the gods. The mobs in the cities during the decline of the Roman Empire showed the same drive to be considered a “young people”, the same belligerent uproar, the same challenging of other nations; then too, whatever demands were made, the rest of the nation must accede, because that is how it is.
In actual fact, what we have here are irremediably sick and futureless mass-men, whose ideal of amorphousness, whose ethos is a formlessness, and who hate nothing so much as discipline, form, definition. It may very well be that the responsibility for all of this is largely to be attributed to the businessmen and industrialists, great and small, who give impetus to the process by which this largely uprooted people huddled together to make mass-men any heap.
In any case, America has been sinking deeper and deeper into unreality ever since …. It is now completely drugged on its own lies. The cure will be more awful than anything seen before in history.
One must hate this country now, truly and bitterly, in order once again, if only for the sake of its glorious past, to be able later to enfold it in all of one’s love – like a parent with his unfortunate and misguided child.
The virulence of a dwarf.
No sparkling squadrons of cavalry gallop forth today. To a large extent, battles are now matters of movements back and forth of standardized machines. It may well be that this complete mechanization of war has a great deal to do with the complete idiocy on those who look on at it.
But what good does it do? Business pulls the strings. The instrument of power is terror, and the businessmen hold tight to it. They control every means of influencing public opinion, and have stupefied the great unproductive mass – salaried people, office workers, most of the lower ranking government employees – to the point of idiocy. The rest is a mixture of business people and nobility come down in the world, melted into a middle class lump with the newly created officers and quick turnover fellows. These people are materialistic, live from day to day, and haven’t the slightest conception of the grim little game that has been begun here.
Yes, and this is truly effrontery enough to take the breath away, they are now demanding that a man forget everything he has learned in the course of travel and conversation abroad, and adopt comments about other countries of the Homeland Security – an agency of salesmen turned diplomats, informed by teachers turned foreign correspondents. To resolve my differences with God, I am supposed to adopt a thoroughly base and godless contention that right is what is useful for Republicans! I, who believe I know something about the laws of history and geopolitics, am expected to lower myself to the level of the canaille as scum of this nation, and believe in the permanence of a regime whose Magna Carta was a broken treaty and whose foundations are largely lies.
In their immense vanity, Satan’s own have overreached themselves, and now they are in the net, and they will never free themselves again. That is the fact, and this it is that rejoices my heart. I hate you. I hate you waking and sleeping; I hate you for undoing men’s souls, and for spoiling their lives; I hate you as the sworn enemy of the laughter of men.
And so we continue to vegetate in our life of shame, our life of dishonor, our life of lies. And our protest, at least the protest of our cowardly bourgeoisie, is the retelling of old jokes about the regime, while their remaining days are spent swallowing propaganda.
A query brought the information that these bovine figures with their lymphatic faces were from Phoenix. I would dare not to say whether what is involved here is opposition, self-derision protest, or merely more of the cow-likeness into which the Neo-Cons have turned American women. Probably it is just one more example of the general state of idiocy here.
At best, these things mirror the cowardice, and the lethargy which the Neo-Cons have set in motion here with their complete castration of the American people.
Ah, gigantic psychosis, drunkenness on a mass scale beyond measuring, which will be followed by the most horrible morning-after the world has ever known! Here, here is the product of your television manipulation – stupefied mass-man, and the conversion of human societies into heaps of termites!
But why should George Bush worry, as, we are told, in his shelter being dug constantly deeper into the earth, and at night – restless, painful nights of the mass murderer and sentimental gangster – spends his time watching movies? Why should that lout named Limbaugh worry, either, with that clean-cut expression of his, which is the epitome of this whole sickening, mechanical, little-boy-at-heart generation? I must admit something about Limbaugh: after Chaney, who combines the conscience and sense of honor of a butcher’s hound with stupidity so devastating it is not an excuse but a crime, and just after these new-American pseudo-Girondists and ersatz aristocrats of the type of Lay et al, his is the most sickening face I know among the Neo-Cons second string – and he imagines himself to be the reincarnation of Leonardo da Vinci.
But as to the generals; as soon as America is liberated from this startling heresy, they should be killed, along with the business people who launched this war, and their journalist bards, who ought to be hanged twenty feet higher than the rest. And let the ones who are spared be condemned to spending the rest of their lives selling matches and wastepaper, living caricatures to remind us of how and by whom power was once stolen to bring endless sorrow down on our heads.
Now, what I have in mind is something that surrounds us like a frightful presage of things to come, that fills the summer air and gives a ghostly cast to the light of the sun, so that it is as though we live day and night in the glare of a huge funeral torch. It is the certainty of approaching catastrophe that fills all our minds, horror and the horror of death that surround us. What is to become of a thoroughly coarsened people who instill in their youths the idea that political burglary and the murder of whole peoples are entirely legitimate life-aims, and whose military leaders did not for a single moment hesitate to back everything that was done, as long as it was going well?
Interminable waits in the ante-rooms of functionaries, having to listen to the giggles of well-tended females in all the surrounding offices – repellent types, whose distinguishing features are the permanent hair-do falling over the shoulder, the never-ending consumption of questionable ice cream, and still more questionable biscuits, and the tyrannizing of the public.
And through it all this herd of troglodytes goes on, brainless and animal, morning and evening charging into the restaurants after ration-free food like the apes at the zoo after they have been kept waiting for the noon feeding. They gulp down their beer, believe every bit of propaganda larded out to them, and are basically responsible for the fact that years could pass being ruled by a maniac. Is it not the absolute height of tragedy, simply inconceivable shame, that just those Germans who are left of the best of them, who have been prisoners of this herd of evil-tempered apes, should wish and pray for the defeat of their own country?
". . Those who seek to conquer the world and shape it as they see fit never succeed. The world is a sacred vessel and cannot be improved. Whoever tries to alter it spoils it; whoever tries to direct it, misleads it. So, some things advance, others lag; some proceed in silence, others make sound; some are strong, others weak; some are forward, others retiring. Therefore the truly wise avoid extremes, extravagance, and foolish pride. Frank J. MacHovec's translation of sutra number 29 in The Book of Tao, (1962); Tao Te Ching by Lao-tzu (abt.551-479 BCE)."
We are currently practicing "psychic numbing and displacement activity" states Dr. Helen Caldicott during
her presentation to the Perdana Peace Forum, Kuala Lumpur, December
2005. Why would she say this to an audience who are gathered together
with the mutual concerns about The Dangers of a Nuclear Holocaust.
According to the New England Journal of Medicine, Dr. Caldicott reports:
". . (1) One bomb dropping on a city would come in at 20 times the speed of sound so it would not be heard; (2) Explode with four times the heat inside the center of the sun; (3) Dig a hole three quarters of a mile wide and 800 feet deep; (4) Turning everything into radioactive fallout in the mushroom cloud; (5) Twenty miles from the epicenter everyone grotesquely burnt; (6) Winds of 500 miles an hour turn people into missiles traveling at 100 miles an hour; (7) A firestorm would then break out of three thousand square miles and everything would spontaneously ignite and as the fire storms coalesce across the United States, Canada, Europe, Australia, China, huge amounts of radio active smoke would be launched into the stratosphere and troposphere covering the Earth with a cloud so thick it would block out the sun for the period of a year causing a short ice age nuclear winter and the end of most life on earth."
Unfortunately, the United Nations is supposedly the protector against such an atrocity occurring, but we know this is not a legitimate safety net because John Bolton, who was not chosen by the people of conscience but rather was chosen because of his unconscionable acts of bullying and was chosen by those of like mind, who placed him in a power position to bully the world. Why would we trust the warmongering bullies, who have proven that they are not trustworthy, to sanction those who simply do not want to be bullied, tortured, murdered, deprived of their birthrights or driven to destitution?
Dr. Caldicott continues with her lecture, and it is riveting. It is not a lecture for those who do not want to be awakened to the reality that the world is not flat. I do not recommend listening to this talk (the link is found in the above paragraph "psychic numbing and displacement activity"), unless a commitment to become conservationists has been made and practicing Peace on Earth for ALL Spirits is the priority. Listening to her speak about only 20 years maximum and 10 years possible before we completely annihilate ourselves with the true WMD ~ Thermonuclear Weapons ~ is depressing at best and horrifying for certain!
"He who joyfully marches to music rank and file, has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once. Heroism at command, how violently I hate all this, how despicable and ignoble war is; I would rather be torn to shreds than be a part of so base an action. It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder." Albert Einstein