The March of Tyranny

This is such a terrible essay. I love it, personally. It is a 'reader response' to Albert Beveridge's speech entitled "The March of The Flag," some turn of the century expansionist tripe. Google it if you care.


11 September 2008

Alas, young Albert J. Beveridge, that ye have so quickly forgotten history’s mores and so readily embraced a greedy and self serving policy destined to inevitable failure. Your speech proponing the eventual American conquering of the world under the subversive name of “March of the Flag” is naught more than a propaganda tool for the expansionary members of our nation. Empires are futile creations of greedy men who desire naught but power. So many have come and gone, they may well be blades of grass to the Lord’s reaper. Your vision of the American flag marching across the world is a best facetious and at worst downright tyrannical. This nation was founded upon the ideals of a democracy, a system of government under which every man has a vote in what their government will be. Will you truly deny the world that right and force them to live under American tyranny? The last time I went to congress I saw no Porto Rican senators, I saw no Filipino delegates, I saw no Cuban congressmen. What you advise is nothing more than a wholesale rape of nations, stealing their land not for any sufficient purpose, but simply to extract what value you can and leave the people to rot. What happens to our market when the people have no money? What happens to the market when American workers are fired in exchange for cheap foreign labor? What happens to your market when china discovers that it can do the same as you, only better?

These nations that you encourage America to devour, Porto Rico, the Philippines, and Cuba are in fact some of the poorest places in the world. Though they may be rich with natural materials, the people of these nations have very little personal wealth and would be entirely unable to afford American products, especially after additional costs like shipping are factored in. this is not solely limited to America’s prospects. Despite the natural wealth of India, few Indians have the money to purchase expensive British goods; despite the natural wealth of South China, the population has few members with the ability to afford French goods; despite the cultural wealth of Qingdao, few Chinese residents have the monetary influence necessary to purchase pricy German exports. Inevitably, the people of the “civilized” nations remain rich and influential, while the citizens of the nations they conquer remain in abject squalor.

Let me offer another example, still a fresh wound in the soul of America: slavery. As recent as a hundred years before your birth, huge shiploads of Blacks were transported to America for the sole purpose of providing cheap labor. Unfortunately, we’ve abolished such practices in the U.S. in exchange for a fair wage for services provided. The Porto Ricans, the Filipinos, and the Cubans have no such demands. Any wage at all is a joyous and rare bounty coveted by all in these destitute nations. When employers realize that they can more cheaply produce products in other countries and simply ship them to the United States, they will cease employing good, honest, hard-working Americans and begin employing primitive savages.

China has an amazingly large population, the majority of which is rural. However thanks to the piecemeal sequestering by western powers, China is rapidly industrializing with a workforce greater than any other nation in the world. Chinese trade barons are unscrupulous in their practices, perfectly willing to pay workers the equivalent of twenty cents an hour for brutal work in factories. This allows them to undercut prices in other, more humane nations despite shipping costs. China has effectively captured a worldwide market for its goods, and is rapidly emerging as a global superpower. America cannot contend with this. Were America to invade, to expand it’s territories to include south America and all of Latin America, It would still be outnumbered and outmatched by the industrious Chinese. Simply the act of expanding beyond our borders would likely provoke China into a similar expansion, intended to reclaim the sovereign nations of Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Taiwan, Tibet, and many others. It’s a disastrous policy, one that will lead to the eradication of many cultures.

Why do you feel so forthright as to suggest that America and America alone has the right to rule the world? What odd twinge of the ambition produced such grandiose visions? I posit that you, in fact, are a megalomaniacal madman hell-bent on ruling the entire world. Why, Albert? Why do you feel so? Was it child abuse? A bad relationship? Did you suffer through the death of a favorite pet? Or are you simply insane?

Metal Project

I already posted this, but I did so as an awkward link to last.fm. This iMeem(sp) thing let's me embed the songs right here, which is what I was looking for originally. I have made a ton more songs in the last month or two, but they still need to be put though quality testing (getting my friend's opinion) before I'll feel comfortable posting them.

McClintock Chunk 2

Only one page this time. Transcribing is a pain. By the by, these are notebook pages, not word pages.


When the first rib finally thrust itself out into the world, nearly every audience member of this grisly display shouted in fear. This only encouraged the remaining ribs, enticing them to burst forth as their brethren had. What they revealed, their foul secret, was a throbbing, gigantic mass of bloody tissue, slowly inflating like a macabre water balloon filled with blood. The mass, approaching three feet in diameter, was expanding in size with every throb. Joe’s legs finally gave out under him, stopping and then buckling beneath the gruesome mass. For a time, Joe lay still, the mass ever expanding. Some of the more unfortunate onlookers had just opened their doors, eager to help this respected and admired member of the community. The mass suddenly swelled, reaching double it’s size in mere seconds, immediately before exploding, spattering everything within half a mile with gallons of blood.

The day following Joe’s horrific death, a stranger came into town. McClintock was a popular tourist destination, so locals thought little of it, even during the aftermath of Joe’s gory demise. The stranger was nondescript, wearing jeans and a faded t-shirt appropriate to his appearance as a young, slim man, presumably in his early twenties.

Joe’s body remained in it’s final resting place. The storeowners and customers had exited through their back doors that day, avoiding the grim reality outside their front stoops. Most of the blood had seeped away, either into the drains or into the parched soil in the planters of the small decorative trees that lined that ill-fated road. A few crows had wandered near the body, but most flew away before taking a sample. Except for one.

Mcclintock, Chunk One

I wrote this because I was bored. I've filled maybe 8 or so pages, but only transcribed two before I got bored. So, you'll see more of this when I feel up to copying it down. I realize it's a terrible story. That's pretty much intentional, yep. I was REALLY bored. J

Fantastical revue, deathly ends

 

The town of McClintock was unusually quiet today. The town was a shining example of modern Midwestern design (despite it's south eastern location): a central downtown followed by a layer of faux suburbia followed by extensive farmland. The weekly farmers market was the town's pride and joy, as well as its sole source of income. As is the current style, young urban professionals would drive in from nearby Atlanta to purchase fresh produce, which they promptly forgot and discarded upon discovery of their hasty rot.

    Still, the money, unlike the fruit, stayed fresh and even in a time of decline for small town life, McClintock flourished. Except today. Where normally the streets would be abuzz with excitement and chatter, today being a Market Day, there was only a cold pallor, enhanced by the darkly overcast sky. Occasionally a car or two would speed down the street, the occupants clearly anxious to meet their destination. A dove cooed, adding a haunting melody to the cacophony of despair that serenaded the town.

    The sickly shroud had lasted for almost two months now, seemingly in suspended motion. No one was really quite clear on what kept it alive, what fed it, but one thing was certain: it had started with the mayor's sudden and shocking death. The mayor of McClintock, Joseph Brackdon, was an energetic, jovial man who had lived his entire life in the fields surrounding McClintock. Indeed, his entire election campaign revolved around labeling himself as "Farmer Joe," a man of the people, in direct contrast to Jeffery Frankson who supported the progressive modernization of McClintock. Naturally, Jeffery lost in a landslide.

    Farmer Joe's last morning was spent on his usual daily round of visits to the downtown store owners. He had finished his last stop at a local boot repair and gun shop (the owner and Joe had been schoolboy chums and never grew out of their friendship. Joe purposely made it his last stop so he could spend the most time shooting the shit with him.) when he began feeling a violent pain in his chest.

    Panic –stricken, Joe desperately attempted to open the door of his '76 Chevy to reach the aspirin in his glove compartment; his hands had other plans. As the pain worsened, Joe felt his legs moving of their own volition, urging him back towards main street. Joe soon found himself running flat out, the pain ever greater. As a blurry red began to cloud Joe's vision, a sickening creak could be heard from within his chest. His shirt grew tighter, pulling apart at the seams. The creaking gave way to a loud cracking, audible even within the closed doors of the nearby shops. Joe fainted. Despite his lack of consciousness, Joe continued to run, run as quickly as he could. Faces were lining up at the storefront windows and passersby ceased their vagaries in response to the increasingly loud snapping emanating from Joe's chest.

I Made A Song

I was bored and wanted to spice up this short song thing I put together, so I went ahead and threw in bits of Tom Wait's "what's he building in there" to jazz it up.

By the By

I'm not dead or anything, just very busy. I'll tell you all about it later.

Today, The Last Day Of Someone’s Life

Fascinating. I suppose it's a given, but I've found that my traffic spikes (from 1 or 2 to 7 or 10, whee!) about a day after I post a new entry. The question I have is: how is that? How do you guys know I've posted a new post? RSS feeds are my best guess, I suppose.

I feel somewhat depressed. I wrote about 600 words of a 1000 word short story I intended to post yesterday, but I accidentally deleted it. It has completely crushed my interest in writing a new short story, at least for the moment. Sigh.

Anyway, I came up with a screenplay idea. I have yet to hammer out the details, but it involves a man who throws chainsaws as weapons. Given Hollywood's current state, it should sell millions.

I copyright that concept.

On Recent Politics

Well, since I did partially make this blog to concern politics, and it is approximately a third of my interest in life, I will make a political comment. I feel silly doing so, considering the massive amount of blogs whose sole focus is the political craft.

Anyway, on the election: I feel kind of bad for John McCain. He ran way back in 2000 and was brutally stabbed in the back by his party (cause, you know, they don't like mavericks) and here we are eight years later, and despite his nearly secured (Ron Paul is, I believe still running) nomination his party still doesn't support him. So I feel bad, and I'll probably vote for him this November considering Obama's win is pretty much guaranteed.

As for Obama, I find him a fascinating example of making very lofty and heavy handed speeches while still tacking more or less to the classical moderate democrat stereotype. It is a bit disappointing, but I'm just happy a black person is finally going to be president. Even if he is an affluent black person, but really, who in politics isn't some sort of rich affluent guy? Heck, based on Obama's somewhat depressing childhood, I think he's worked through a lot more hardships than the average Bush/Gore political legacy/old money families.

Personally, I'm for radical change, be it liberal or republican. As an election, I would have preferred something like Ron Paul vs. Dennis Kucinich (actually, I liked Mike Gravel a bit better, but come on! It's Kucinich!). I am a registered republican as well, simply for the much more interesting mail I get. On that note, somehow I was put on a mailing list for the Council of Secular Humanism, something that amuses me to no end, I assure you. I also like to order gun catalogs, for kicks.

Anyway, this election will be pretty fascinating, and it will be nice to see it up close, as I am a poll worker volunteer. I first signed up for a project for civics, and found it to be a great experience. It wasn't too busy though, since it was just the June third local primaries. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that a Livermore local was running for the republican state assembly nomination for our district (Scott Kamena, incidentally also the son of our mayor and my dad's fiancé's optometrist), I don't think anyone would have showed up.

Well, this post is the first one I've made using word 2007's "publish to blog" tool, which seems a bit handier than trying to cut and paste from here to there. There are some issues, as I can't seem to edit posts that I've already made in word, so the font size in the last one was a bit diminished; my workaround here is just making this new post. Boy, technology these days is great. By the by, I prefer Garamond for just about anything I type.

Hey! I'm alive! and have very little to say!

Summer is dwindling away, a return to responsibility will come sooner than i hope

A fun little browser game

It fits into a "favicon" that little orange and white "b" thing up there on the top of your browser.

Defender(of the favicon)