A previous article lauded the violence of Jean-Paul Marat in the French Revolution and proclaimed the merits of another violent revolution to get rid of all those parasitical richies. (Ithaka: Georges Clemenceau and Jean-Paul Marat, New Heroes of the Violent Left)
We have another application for the ultraviolence since we have learned from the Republicrats over the last sixteen years that violence may not solve a problem but it's the most entertaining to watch.
Therefore, when we hear of Donald Trump's plan to deport two million of 'the worst of the worst' to Mexico, we think, "What a pussy."
That's just pushing the same old mindless DEA flatfoot crap about busting the little guy. So long as you're getting some busts, it looks like you do your job. As we have seen, the War on Drugs is just another war with no outcome, no results, and it never stops ... but at least it costs a lot of money.
What we need is the ultraviolence, see.
Trumpie has got all these B-52s and he hasn't even considered the idea of bombing the holy fuck out of the poppy fields in Mexico.
General Ripper: hola, Jose! How's that harvest this year, amigo?
There's one fundamental Law of Dope Dealing: if you don't got no product, you don't got no deal.
Bleeding Heart: but Mexico is our friend!
Tell you what, li'l snowflake, if you have friends growing those poppies down there then we're going to bomb your ass too. What did you say your name was?
Oh, never mind. We have already got your name ... and your address.
General Ripper, you got that, right?
General Ripper: muy bueno.
Bleeding Heart: your bombing will kill braceros and not the bigwig dealers!
Perhaps we could review, Shirley Temple, as the poverty-stricken person down there is growing opium for the dealers to send to America to suck the souls out of poverty-stricken people up here. Why is your heart only bleeding on that side of the border, boobie?
Bleeding Heart: if you must do it, why not send special military forces to work with the Mexican Army?
Oh sure, li'l cupcake. That worked just great against cocaine in Colombia, didn't it.
B-52s, that's your answer. Bomb the holy fuck out of those poppy fields. They think their dope dealers know the ultraviolence but they're amateurs. You don't know ultraviolence until a B-52 delivers it.
We have another application for the ultraviolence since we have learned from the Republicrats over the last sixteen years that violence may not solve a problem but it's the most entertaining to watch.
Therefore, when we hear of Donald Trump's plan to deport two million of 'the worst of the worst' to Mexico, we think, "What a pussy."
That's just pushing the same old mindless DEA flatfoot crap about busting the little guy. So long as you're getting some busts, it looks like you do your job. As we have seen, the War on Drugs is just another war with no outcome, no results, and it never stops ... but at least it costs a lot of money.
What we need is the ultraviolence, see.
Trumpie has got all these B-52s and he hasn't even considered the idea of bombing the holy fuck out of the poppy fields in Mexico.
General Ripper: hola, Jose! How's that harvest this year, amigo?
There's one fundamental Law of Dope Dealing: if you don't got no product, you don't got no deal.
Bleeding Heart: but Mexico is our friend!
Tell you what, li'l snowflake, if you have friends growing those poppies down there then we're going to bomb your ass too. What did you say your name was?
Oh, never mind. We have already got your name ... and your address.
General Ripper, you got that, right?
General Ripper: muy bueno.
Bleeding Heart: your bombing will kill braceros and not the bigwig dealers!
Perhaps we could review, Shirley Temple, as the poverty-stricken person down there is growing opium for the dealers to send to America to suck the souls out of poverty-stricken people up here. Why is your heart only bleeding on that side of the border, boobie?
Bleeding Heart: if you must do it, why not send special military forces to work with the Mexican Army?
Oh sure, li'l cupcake. That worked just great against cocaine in Colombia, didn't it.
B-52s, that's your answer. Bomb the holy fuck out of those poppy fields. They think their dope dealers know the ultraviolence but they're amateurs. You don't know ultraviolence until a B-52 delivers it.
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