Dispatchi From The Front

We have recieveid various dispatchi from our commentors. Two of these dispatchi were particulerly herrowing , so I find I must take it up on myself, to share them with you, the reader.

Here, our senior commentater, Moses Gumn, tells us his acount of what happened to him on the day Heir Bush re-stoled the electoral process:

Dispatch cc2-36I:

Hi everyone! I am Moses Gunn.You may call me Moses, or Moses G. (my Dj monniker)*******

i geuss now's also a good time to relate that my vote was surpressedlast week ....

an old friend (Dr. Bongmeister-Eckhart, not his real name, with two dots over the e, can you put that mark in comments?)brought over the new Devin the Dude CD (CompactDisc) andsome of his *ahem* supplies on Election day. 1pm to 9pm just flew by.....(also watched Donnie Darko twice.)

I went to the Thomas Dewey MiddleSchool at around 10:00pm to pull the level but there was no one there. I was looking outside around the gym (locked, Ralphs card couldn't open) I was stopped by a 'security guard' who asked waht I was doing there. I explained the situation as best as i could (scared, was he a 'private sector'Halliburton guard trying to surpress my vote? or what?, I left out the partabout Dr. Bongmeister-Eckhart, but not Donnie Darko. )

The 'guard' didn't really understand the ending (of Donnie Darko) but hedid tell me (in a strange polite way) that the voting stopped hours ago. I asked him for a provisonal ballot (I know my rights!) He just smirkedand told me go home. He was kinda fingering his baton as he sighed,so i just felt i had to get out of there. In my panic I didn't get his nameor badge number. did anyone else have that kind of hasssle with the man?

You can, I am sure, see what I mean by herrowing. The shear malace and contemt with which the policeman treated Mr. Gunn shows just how much power the Nazi jesusland regime has all ready yousurped. They would not behave in such a brazen manner, if they were not so sure of the position of control.

Here, from the land of Odenwalk, Austolopithecanthropus, share his Kafkaian experiances. Some of this dispatch seams to be in code:

Dispatch 5zs-c8T1:

I am writing this from the Odenwald. I can't tell if those guys in leathercoats are Germans or Americans. Those black helicopters look the same as the ones over
Cumberland. But I feel very safe here. The very tolerant Dutch all of a sudden are burning mosques and are attacking Moslems. But we don't live near the Dutch border. We mostly keep to ourselves and try not to offend the Germans with our American accents. I will continue to monitor your website for going ons in Jesusland. This will influence our decision when and if we shall return. Maybe we settle somewhere around the Mediterranean. We love it around Livorno.

I'm not sure what that means, but the part about the black helacopters brings home just how far Bushes regime has cast its tentacles. Can any body help me with translatoin of this coded dispatch?

No Matter What You Think, It's Worser Still

Horaitio and Rosen escorted me down to the Bagdad Cafe for a conference with the leaders of the surounding niegborhoods. On my way, down, I coulnd't help but notice several things since it's the first time I have been out of the house in nine days.

First the air is diffrent. i can not put my finger on it. But, something is diffrent. the coldness, the smell, kind of like nuts, with mint. The air is crispy.

And there is a strange quality to people's faces. Their rushed, yet directionles. And there are people checking throught the trash. This is the most fearsome of all. The things we discard are our selfves. Who are these people going throught the trashes of the city?

I saw one of them hold some thing up to another and whisper something. Sicne when do homeless people talk to each other.

Anyway, on to Bagdad. When I got their you could cut the air like a thick loaf. It was vary tense. The Arab gentleman who run the Bagdad seemd none too pleased that we were hodling such a meeting in there establisment. We the five leaders Adam, Falstaff, Coco, Quiton, and myself sat down at our usual table in the corner. Horaitio and Rosen stood reassuringley behind me.

Falstaff spoke first.

"Everybody knows there was voter frawed by Reputzi s voting machines, George W Bush was handed victory by fellow Skull and Boneser John Kerry before any of the facts could sink in to the voting public. In fact Kerry prempted any controversy with his concession. I guess he had to allow it to be stoled because his attempts at losing the election legitimately came up short.

Everyone nodded there ascent. Coco, she of the raven-haired beuty, spoek next, in a hushed wisper,

"Poor poor Keith Olbermann hes the only major media guy with any vigor to get to the bottom of this. I fear for his safety."

"I herd Bushes gonna kill him," I said. Everyone nodded. Their was palpable fear hung on everyone's faces.

"As always," Falstaff said. "It’s worse than you think."

Adam looked a round the room leerily and whispered, "Listened, I have it on good authority. The former "anonymous" CIA "whistleblower" warned that Osama bin Laden, the Bush-Cheney Administration’s favorite bogey man, has received religious approval for a nuclear attack on America. Quite simply, it sets the groundwork of plausability for the next terrorist attack. I'm guessing about January 11th, before the inauguration. Bush-Cheney need an excuse to re-institute the draft (especially seeing as how a war with Iran is being pushed openly by the eval Neocons) and this will give them an excuse they need to crack down HARD on civil liberties and free speech."

Coco gasped.

Adam contineud, "Another ominous development is new CIA director Porter Goss leading an all out effort to "reform" the CIA so they can "purge" the organization of any management types with minds of their own. This is the clearest signal that the CIA’s direction will be headed by those who are completely in lock step with the Pentagon’s foreign and domestic Black Ops program."

My heart sank. Black Ops. Alas, we have come to this. I spke up,

"Like the Nazi party under Hitler, “disloyalty” will not be tolerated. It will be crushed with the Black Ops."

"Right," Adam said. "Next, the fact that a whole whack of troops have come back to the US from foreign bases seems timed so these troops will be on hand in case of cival desturbance, un rest or protestes after the next staged attack. This week, Fort Bragg soldiars ran a rare training exercise in New York. The group of soldiers flew to New York to train for a fictional scenerio."

Then Adam looked around at all of us, rell serioiusly. "The thing is gentlaman, everything here is a fictional scenerio."

"Then it is dicided then," I said. "The pieces will soon be in place. The final raw grab for complete power and the installation of a de facto Dictatorship may only be weeks or months away."

And with that, we desbanded the meeting.


As Horaitio and Rosen walkwed me back too my apartmen I mused crazily, happily about picking up a rock and throing it through the West Wing windwo and hitting Bush right in the head. He's got us in quite a pickled predicmint here with his plans. I see now that it's all coming to gethr in my mind and starting to make sense. Their are wierd thing's going on in America and we are all swept up in it.

Truer Than Truth It Self

Horatio came by this morning as usual, however, he didn't bring breadfast. I wonderd what was up. He just stroad in without saying anything and started pacing a round the room like a panther in a cage.

Finally, he broke the silence. He asked when I was finally going to go out again. I said, I'm not ready. He askedif I was scaird. I said no, Im' not scaird. He said why are you going to let a dumb reputzi dhinger chick scair you like this (first comment). I repeated that I not scaird, just being cautious.

That's when he did it.

He slapped me in the face, vary vary hard. There was blodd on my mouth and confusion. He looked at me with terribel contemt and said, "Buck up, man. "We'are going out todday weather you like it or not. "

Then he turned his back on me and went to the phone and called Rosen. Now , you must understand Rosen is a vary large man, evne larger then Horatio. Rosen spent his seminal moments in Hell's Kitchen raised on a carnal diet of death and voilence. We only call him when we need mussel. Rosen is not a man I want in my apartment. And Horaitio is giving him my adress, and saying come over right a way.

And then he told him to bring a gun.

I broke in to a cold swert. My fingers started to tingle, My stomach did flops and flops. and my heart raced like a teenage girl at her first dance. I was terribly ascaird.

My mind raced over to a Louisville Slugger which was given to me by the great Mark McGuire. I thought , can I make it too the bat before Horaitio would notic. I made a jump for it. Horaitio didn't even turn aroudn. I grabbed the bat and raised it to swing at the back of Horatios' massive bald skull, where the fat folds collect like a pit bull. I started to swing.

Then Horaitio said, still not looking at me, "Horaitio and I will be you bodygards. We will be with you at all tiems. We'll both be carrying. There's improtant things to do. We have to start our insurgency against the evil Bush regime."

And as he said this he turned and saw me with the bat in mid-swing.

"Waht are you doing?" he aske.d

"I was going to kill you," I said simply, without any a dornmint, in any way whatsoever.

Then he just staired at me, like you would stair at a stone, if you were stairing at a stone for a vary long time. I started to get uncomfortabel as the time past. I slowly dropped the bat to the floor, and still Horaitio staird.

Finally he started to laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh some more. Then he punched me in the arm, and said, "Look at what that frickin' Bushitler has done to us. We're at each others throats like wild animals."

And it was true, truer than truth it self.

Stop Flossing

Horatio came over last night (i'm still in hiding) with take-out Enchiladas from the little cafe that he prefers. The food was good, there were chips and salsa , and cheese, and peppers, and pperchinis too, and that stringie beef. You know, pretty much every thing you would expect to find in a good ethnic quizine

Anyway, this led to a session of furious flossing, as you can imagine. And , to tell the plane truth, it was rather disgusting. Soem of the stuff I found betweens my teeth was unrecognizeable. Some of it, I could tell, oh yeah, there's a piece of beef (stringy) that was loged between molars and actully wrapped around the outside of the tooth. But mostly, the stuff was unrecognizable gore.

Some actully leaped from my mouth (as if shocked and awed by it's own disgustingness) and flew out and hit the bathroom mirror. I had too get and tissue and wipe down the mirror and some of it smeared , so I had to get the Windex.

I guess we can expect this kind of groteusquerie when imbibing a good ethinic quisine. It's part of the price of the terratory.

Ok, but,go with me here,.

This got me to thinking.

Why do we floss? Because . If we do not then all the stringie bifteca (diverse word for beef) and cheese and chips-particulars, will just lodge in between you're gums and rot out you're teeth, that's why.

I mean, relly, answer me here. Correct me if Im' wrong.

So, I got to thinking some more. (It must of been the meal?!?! good gastrognomic expeirence) Why are we afrayd of the evil Bush regimen? Well, it's because of his horrendous teeth. He can chew us up and spit us out any time he wants too.

And we know it damned well.

We do not have the power, cause we do'nt have the teeth. He does. But, we are all part of the same country so let us use a "Bodie Metaphoire (fr.)" here. If we are to be a part of bush's body, let us be like his gums. And let us just stop flossing, so that we can rot out his teeth.

They'll just rot, and stink, and putrify, like a swamp. And they will fall out, and then the Bush regime will look like an old man in the morning before he puts his dentures in. And we'll just lauhg.

You see what I'm saying here?

Now, i don't relly know (qiute yet) what we can do to just rot the capatalist system like that. To just rot the teeth out of Bush's head? But, I promise you, that I will think abuot it.

UPDATE: I'm trying to think. What can we do (politacally-speaking) to rot out the teeth of Amerikkka? Does anybody have any ideas?

Screaming Memes Evisserates An Evil Neocon

I have, unfortuanatly had the misfortune of coming a cross a new blogger. A friend sent me a note, with words on it that said something to the affect of, "Get a load of this load." I clicked on the link he provided and was stung by my own worst nightmare.

The IraqWarWasAppropriateBlog by Mr. P. Wallace Hedge.

Well, P. Wallace, actully I hope you dont mind if I call you P. Diddy from now, as I do not want to rededicate the brain space to learning or remembring you're name , you big freakin' Nazi.

Here now, let me let you in on some of the intellectul tripe that comes spewing and sputtering out of this guys whole:


It is enough, I think, or should be, to say that I am a sixth-generation American and a patriot. I am partisan for my country and make no apologies. That being said, it is still my responsibility to show, to borrow the words of our Founding Fathers, a decent respect for the opinions of mankind in explicating our exertion of power, whenever we choose to do so, as we have done in this recent cycle.


He's talking about killing people , folks. He uses a lot of big dasterdley words that go a long way to taking you a long way a way from the truth, which is that Bush is an evil Nazi bent on killing as many people as possible and stealing as much of our money ash e can with his slanted- trickle down piss theory tax breaks.

And who cares if your a friggin' patriotic sixth-gneration prop andyway, buddy, . If you are, than your're a patriot and a sixth -generation slavemaster of an evil regime.

Here's more evil sputum frothing from the feroicious maw of this monster, Mr. P.Diddley Do-Squat:


Personally, I have achieved moderate to, some would say, high success in at least two business ventures, punctuated by an enjoyable if frustrating stint in the public service. In sum, some two decades of this were spent abroad, at times in places best left unsaid and better left to the mists of memory.


CIA? maybe? The old Central Intellidunce Asphyxiation Machinery that has caried on the raping and pillaging of noble men like President Isabell Allende and stealing from his nobel people who are forced to live in cardboard monstrosities they call slums, eating flies and toiling hour after hour at the forced government labour , cutting down the rainforest to feed Bush's war machine.

And notice, too, Mr. P Diddy Dumdroppings allusion to his businees empire. He's a robber baron, peopel. He's a "proud capitalistic White Man." We should all be greatful to eat of his droppings as they crumble our civilization to the floor.

Oh god (figurine) No, There's more:


It is one of my guilty pleasures that I do still enjoy following baseball; something about the nature the game helps to mask the passage of time, remind me of what once was.


Yes, yes, baseball. Well, it slhould be a guilty gilded pleasure for you Mr. P. Diddy Dickwad, because yes, it reminds you of Old America (before the more diverse inner city stylings of basketball took over) back when a White Man could be a White Man and only the African-Americans and the sheep needed to be scaird, right? Remind you of what was? Indeed , you, you, SlaveMaster General.

Oh, god no, make it stop:


I do venture down to take films from the local library now and then. I have a distinct preference for the classic films; call me a fuddy-duddy but something about the so-called "realism" of modern filmmaking, with its gratuitous violence and sexuality, leaves me cold. It warps the mind, for despite the moniker, it is not at all like the real thing. And actors today are like children posturing at recess. James Stewart: now for my money, there was an actor.


Call you a "fuddy-duddy?" Well, actully another f-word comes to mind SlaveMaster P. Diddy Fuddy-Duddy Asshat. Of course, you love the old movies. It's always old with you, isn't it? You vile piece of steeming excertmant. You should be lying on the cold urin-staind pavement of our hollowed-out urban centeres, made to breahte the foul-stench of th poverty that you an d you're illk have bequeethed to us the people, the loneley nightmare valets of your decimated Amerikkka .

O, how I long to end you rein , you evil, vile, sputum upon the lips of the masticating monstous, machiavellian, manicheismatic, machinating, Capitalist fantasm that is Heir Bush's evil United Nazi Regime of jesusland.

No, god (fig.) no, ther's more where that came from, like a bad Ronco commercial selling ginsu knives, only in this case the knives are plunged strait into our backs:


In this world there are large movements, and small. I am here to shed the small and discuss the large, as I lay out the groundwork, drawn from my experience and knowledge, for why the invasion of Iraq in 2003 was entirely appropriate to the circumstance.


You, you, you, Mr. P. Diddley Doddering Old Asshat jerkoff. "Large Movements" you say?

You sir, are the Large Movement.

I stand finnished with my case, you're honor. I commend my soul and strength to the care of the jury of those whom the Bush regime has killed, is killing, and will kill, forevermore.

We Have All Been shot

For those of us who care about humanity it was a terrible, terrible tragedy yesterday to see the massacer perpatraited on that poor, Iraqi Insurgent. That poor man. He looked so helpless and sweet just sitting there waiting for help to arrive.

When that "marine" shot the poor man in the head it was like we had all been shot.

For those of us who feel very deeply - because we share in a common humanity with the Iraqi Insurgents - it is like we have all had the brains blown out of our heads.

Burkas

My freind Jaco sent this dispatch in from his own personal front. By way of intraduction, Jaco used to be a musician with some famous band back in the 70's . But now he just pretty much sits around and does'nt do much. Back in the late 80's he had a very traw-matic thing happen. He won't tell me what it was, but he does'nt seem ever to relly have recovered. But anyway, I still dig his music and his musings. In this dispatch he dispells a myth we've all herd.

Parentle Advisory: Be warned that there are some adult language (very mild references to oral sexual behavioure (fr.)) in the follwing dispatch:

Dispatch No. 12vt-6m:

I want to right about something thats near and deer to my heart. Thats burkas.

Because I've had actual experence with them. Beacaus when I was touring with my band Weather Report back in 1979 we toured in Iran right during the Revelution.

Oh baby, thos were heady days (in more ways than one)

1) They were heady days like you only expect a revelution to be because you get caute up in the "frivolity" of the moment (to say something that sounds kind of french)

2) They were heady days because like you wuld expect when a big famuos band is on tour thers lots of head involved, (even in iran) It was grrate. You know what I'm saying?

3) We litrally saw a head chopped off in the street, (rite in front of us) ohm my God, it was so sick. I'm a musiciahn, man. I'm for peace.

Anyway, so we saw burkas becaus we wer there. We saw them. and, its not like they say about burkas.

Its like some of the Iranian men told us, "You westernrs dont respct woman beacuse you objectify her., You do not put her on a pedastal like you shuld. Like We do in Iran. "

"We treat womann with repect because we will not let anybody (and that goes for any one) leer at her in the street, if she is hour sister or dauter or wife. It will not hapen. That is why we ware the burka.!!!."

They culd get prety passiunate about things because in those days there was a revelutioun going on.

Anywa,y, burkas are not oppressive like they say in the Westrn press (no oppressing human rightes) its not like that.

Its like this, burkas are there to prtect woman and thats the way it is, and the3y dont opress woman because a women can do anything while she is waring a burka beleave me this is true. Hav you ever seen how big and baggy those burkas are? A Woman can get a way with anything underneath their.

Its a paradocs, but women are actully more free when they are waring a burka then when they ar not.

Like, for instence, one time I had sex with a women when she was waring a burka right in front of her husband . I just got underneeth the burka with her. And he didnt even notice. He was in the next room watching Happy Days on TV . And he didnt even notice we wer going at it. See what I mean?

Or, another time I herd about a woman who was running a business underneath her burka and no one knew the better.

She was more free to do whatever she wanted to do at any time becaus her husbnd wouldnt even notice. Like I said, it was paradoxcycle.

Love you man,

J.P. - TGBPITW

Update: I am very happy to announce that the good Proprietor, IraqWarWrong, over at TheIraqWarWasWrongBlog, is back in business. I feel like Sam and Fordo did at the end of the Lord OfThe Rings, when Gandalf came riding out of the sunset on his horse Steppewolf. What a beautiful creeture.

UpUpDate: I'd also like to announce a new addition to our family. Little Clover the Lamb, at TheIraqWarWasStillWrongBlogWas/NotWasNot. It's amaizing how Daisy hid her pregnancy all that time. I guess it must be the hot-pink burka she's been sporting these past months.

UpUpUpDate: And, of course theere's ACaseOfSoda, with our own pal Grimace (the purple thing from McDonalds' (evil corp.) , not the angry/paned look.

Notes From The Underground

Daisy and I designed this forum (blog) as a way for people to come together and compare notes.

Aproprately enough, many readers have been filing reports with us as to just what is happeening in there towns, cities, villas, ect. , around the nation of jesusland. I would like to share some of these reports here with you now, on the frong page:

Grimace (Report No. 7c-7):

Just wanted to tell you something that I found out. My own local org (short for organ-isation) was ok here getting the christmas (pronounced: christ-must) trees taken down because they were pushing their religion on people too strong.We made them call it 'holiday' trees too, but now we're going to stop that ass well.

The holi in holiday sounds alot like Haliburton (The holi part (or also Halle Burton (The name from Halle Berrie new married with Tim Burton) like someone else pointed out))I don't know if I closed all my ")" things in the last paragraph. But. I'm going to post this n e way.


Good work, freind, about getting rid of the chrismas trees. The part where he notes the similarity of HalleBurton and Holiday (HalleDay) is simply harrowing.

But really, it couldn't be. Mabye we'ere letting our paranoia get the better of us.

(this is starting to remind me of Pynchon's report on the underground movement of the Cold War, Crying Alot 49)

Anway, here's a nother report from Chongito. Bare in mind that Chongito is a "Trust Fund Baby." He's totally down with our movement , but sometiemes he doesn't quite get it, and he slips some of his old reputzi ways. One time Horatio had to take Chongito out into the alley and beat the living crap out of him. But alls well that ends well, cause Chongito came around. Anyways here it is:

Chongito (Report 18w-2):


Damnit Memes, what is going on here! Once we had a
great life! I remember a time before The Chimp
(Dubya), that things were great. We didn't have to be
hated by the world. , we
would hang out al day, times were good!

I don't get it, once upon a time, I was all for those
poor people, I mean with my trust fund, I'm sure I'm
paying a lot of taxes! My dad told my he would make
sure my taxes were taken care of. And here I keep
voting for those poor people to get what they need.
But these farmers or middle class people keep voting
for BuSHITler! What are they thinking! Maybe the
freking poor people are just to dum to know whats good for
them.

Screw them and their frickin' lice-infested bodily excretions (children)
Chongito

Well, maybe Chongito is wavering a bit. He got the buSHITler part right, but the rest of it? I don't know. Anyway, we've got to help our brother out. I'll notify Horatio. He'll get it straitened out. We all need Chongito. Believe me , he can be very handy to have around when your in a pinch.