“you don’t win the new civil war by being civil,” or “seriously, what the f*ck is wrong with us?”

So, mein freund Brian Ellez just turned me on to the Rude Pundit and I have not been able to stop reading his rants. I should say here that if his writings are rants, my writings on this blog that I label “rants” are mere farts a-blowin’ in the wind. The Rude Pundit does not let up—with the facts, with the outrage at those facts, and with no way to communicate that outrage without resorting to the four-letter-word-syndrome that “lively-ups” (thank for that idiom, Bob, and rest in Rastapeace) the English language.

Seriously folks, the Rude Pundit gleefully reaches into the bottom of the barrel of filth for his obscenities and throws them up at us for our consideration the way that Lenny Bruce shocked—Shocked! I say—his audience with his language into paying attention (and maybe actually ratiocinating on a thing or two) or that the early Richard Pryor took his almost exclusively black audiences into the bowels and the interworkings of one word—and y’all know that THAT word is, doncha . . .

(And remind me to tell you the story about my first hearing Pryor’s first album—I think it was his first eponymous album from 1968, but it could have been his just released second album, Craps (After Hours)—at a cookout where I was one of only two white faces in a crowd that filled a house in the Poconos and me and that crowd were all toasted on the best Cannabis sativa available on the East Coast in 1971.)

So, I am highly—no: I am HUGELY (and I know it’s a totally inappropriate use of an adjective where an adverb is required, but f*ck it, it works)—recommending you levitate your way on over to his site and start reading!

My favorite bon mot so far is the RP’s advice to New Jersey Democrats in Congress when dealing with the obstructionism and lies and damn lies—although never statistics, because they never have any that proves a one of their ideologically-based opinions—of their Republican brethren: “You don’t win the new Civil War by being civil.”

I wanted to give you a better take on this RP’s approach, but selecting one rant/posting was damn near impossible. So I just placed the scroll bar on the open Google window all the way back to the top, and then just scrolled down and inch or so and where it landed is what I “chose.”

So, here is the Rude Pundit’s post of October 24, 2013, titled “Spying and Drones: What the Hell Is Wrong With Us?” I have removed the middle portion of this so that it is a briefer read (this is, after all, an introduction) and it leaves the whole of the post to be read by you again with the entirety of the content, making it read like new . . .

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“No, seriously, what the f*ck is wrong with us? Are we that crazed about our own precious safety that we simply don’t give a shit anymore about what other nations think when it comes to us ‘protecting’ ourselves from ‘terrorists’? At this point, the United States views the world as one giant conspiracy out to destroy truth, justice, and high school football. We’re so bugf*ck insane that Osama bin Laden must be laughing his crab-bitten ass off at the bottom of the ocean.

What it looks like is that, starting in 2006, under orders from George W. Bush, the National Security Agency began monitoring the calls of dozens of foreign leaders. How did the NSA start doing so? Because some ‘US official’ gave the spooks the personal or direct phone numbers of the leaders. Ain’t that some shit right there? It’s like showing all the guys at the bar pictures of your girlfriend’s tits that you assured her were only for you. . . .

And before anyone tries to say this is no big deal, much ado about nothing, metadata, or whatever self-deluding nonsense you wanna toss onto the shitpile, what’s more important, huh? Hearing Angela Merkel order take-out bratwurst or whatever the f*ck they do in Germany? Or assuring ongoing cooperation from our, you know, allies? ‘Cause those alleged allies are already thinking of telling the United States to go f*ck itself on sharing spy information.

Of course, a little phone and email eavesdropping would be preferable for the people of Pakistan and Yemen, where Obama’s drone war is killing the shit out of civilians. Like, you know, the ’18 laborers, including a 14-year-old boy, [who] were killed in multiple strikes on an impoverished village close to the border with Afghanistan as they were about to enjoy an evening meal at the end of a long day of work’ in July 2012.

The U.S. reported that as a successful terrorist murder operation, but Amnesty International discovered that it was, in fact, 18 laborers, including a 14-year old boy, who had f*ck-all to do with terrorism. There’s lots more like that in both countries where we rain fiery death on the people.

What’s the game here? Is it that once Obama was shown the real threats to the United States, the shit we’re all too stupid to be allowed to see, he lost his f*ckin’ mind and decided to go survivalist? Or is it that Obama is so concerned, like Democrats before him, to be seen as a tough motherf*cker at home that he doesn’t really care what people overseas think about the spying and the drones missiles?

The Rude Pundit has a problem with all of this. He can’t just sweep it under the rug, say he trusts Obama, go about his daily life, and be glad that he’s not getting attacked. F*ck that. He didn’t sign up for this. He’s not gonna pretend it’s okay because it’s not. And if it takes our European allies and the human rights organizations we have trusted for decades to smack us back into reality, then, please, slap away at our contorted faces.

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Reading gave me the delightful sense that I had just stumbled over some introductory material or commentary from the galleys of Harlan Ellison’s newest but as yet unpublished collection of short stories and anecdotes. And that is ALWAYS a feeling well worth having!

In fact, just saying “Harlan Ellison” makes me want to write a short introductory piece the man, one of the best and most important and most influential creative writers in the past fifty years of American letters. (Notice I didn’t limit his contributions merely to ‘literature’ . . .)

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