By Nick Moss
I have heard the 2nd rate reformist flotsam of my generation spill platitudinous flag-waving mendacities like shit from a Thames Water sewer pipe as they shill skulk genuflect distort in hope of not being implicated in what’s in front of our fucking eyes. John Healey yesterday’s Blairite reshuffle spear-carrier now Defence Secretary says “we won’t get drawn into the wider war” says the UK is “sending more Typhoons to Qatar as well as the Sky Sabre anti-drone and missiles to Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Kuwait” says “Britain’s best will help you defend your skies” says “judge us by our actions and not our words.”
And the fascist Thanatos says to the fascist destroying angel “Whether I free it, take it – think I could do anything I want with it. You want to know the truth.”
Thanatos intends to be all-sovereign. Says “BUILD UP SOME DELAYED COURAGE, GO TO THE STRAIT AND JUST TAKE SOME OIL. OR BUY IT FROM US.” Says victory was yesterday, was today, is still to come. He is the self-anointed (nice shade of tangerine).
Says sovereignty outside him is dead. Is “decapitated.” They are building a temple to him in Miami. It will be plated gold. It will be the tallest building in Miami. Eric says it will be the building Miami deserves. And maybe that’s true. Maybe a city built on low wage Bahamian labour and H Leslie Quigg running the cops as a branch of the Klan does deserve some kind of architectural atrocity to mark its history.
In North London the Wembley arch stains the dead air; dully patriotic glow. The pubs are choked with cheapshit coke and out-of-town cokeheads for the international frendlies.
There are two kinds of people round here now. The lad who lives next door to me spent 3 years caring for his ma while she died slow and ugly from a brain tumour and has mourned her for 2 years now since he found her dead in her own shit in the hall. He mourns by combining spice and Valium and cheap lager and playing old jungle tapes at glass-shake volume and shouting fucking cunts fucking cunts fucking cunts at all of us and none of us. He can’t read so we have to help him with any paperwork that comes in. Next door to him is one of the self-care champions who’ve never had to beg cardboard to sleep in a pissrank doorway and pray for a fuckin blanket, but who shite away about applying neuroaesthetics to their living space and feeling recharged as a result and have a cupholder on their Silver Cross Kensington nausea-pink baby buggy so they can have their elderflower matcha latte close to hand. And on the other side of them Susie’s coaxing dragons from a piece of foil. The new gym where the Polish grocers used to be has put up a sign that says, “Find Your Strong” and you tell me it doesn’t matter but I think it fuckin does because the atrocities burn in front of our eyes, but we self-stupefy with headline hacks and calculated illiteracy.
And Limor Son Har-Melech and Itamar Ben Gvir toast the death penalty and say they’ve chosen life.
Wear your golden noose lapel pin.
Golden noose lapel pin.
Golden noose.
Petrochem fascism. ExxonMobil Corporation, Chevron, and ConocoPhillips instead of Ford and IBM.
With leaders who sound like they’ve been fisted and ventriloquised by Filippo Marinetti. More half-wit billionaire shitspiel about “war-the world’s only hygiene, militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of freedom-bringers” but delivered by men who can only manage to twist their cheilitic lips around one word.” Money”.
Viva la Muerte
Raise our arms in silent greeting (2)
NOTES
- In response to a confrontation with Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno at the University of Salamanca in October 1936, when Unamuno stated “You will win, because you have more than enough brute force. But you will not convince. For to convince you need to persuade. And in order to persuade you would need what you lack: Reason and Right “, General Millan Astray of the Spanish Falange replied ‘Death to intelligence! And long live Death!’
- From 26 May 1933 speech by Martin Heidegger as Rector of Freiburg University, at a memorial to Albert Leo Schlageter, a Nazi Party member executed for sabotage operations in France.
