Guerrilla Life *or* Steal This Post!

Part I.


If you've read more than three words on this page, you should be able to deduce that one of my primary modes of recreation entails bitching about other peoples' inferior world views, particularly insofar as those world views center on politics. This should beg the question of the astute mind: "Well, alright, then, but what do you believe we, as [insert political/social/cultural/sexual affiliation here], should be doing?"

That's a fair question, friend, and here's my answer: Nothing. Not one damned thing.

Now that's to say that I don't think some things ought to be changed, or others done differently, because I most certainly do. It's simply a matter of perspective, really. You see, given world enough and time, even a simple man can bludgeon his way through even the most difficult problem. What sets the wise man apart, then, is his ability to simply circumvent that problem and get on with his life. The fact is that regardless of where you stand on any given issue, the political trade winds will eventually shift and you'll either find yourself becalmed--as with Howard Dean--or facing an unforgiving headwind of unpalatable political philosophy--as is the case for almost every liberal in America at present. So what do we, the disillusioned, the disenfranchised, the dyspeptic, do about it? After all, the one unifying characteristic of every socio-cultural edifice is that attempting to alter it from the outside is, to once again quote the late, great Douglas Adams, "like attacking a lunatic asylum with a banana." Allow me, therefore, to answer your question by whipping out my trusty paintbrush and painting you a few thousand words. Assume you're driving down the expressway one afternoon and some disgruntled god deposits a concrete wall in your path forty feet high and eight feet thick. Now, as I see it, you have a couple of options. One, you reach over and crank up All Things Considered, floor it, and plough your Volvo into the fucker head-on doing ninety and hope for the other side. Two, you can leap out onto the pavement, slip into your handy-dandy Nomex ninja gear and scale. Or, third, you can hang onto your latte, hit the shoulder, and keep right on truckin'. I don't know about you, but I'm shootin' for the latter, myself.

The way I look at it, an unfavorable political system is a lot like that concrete wall: a massive, insensate threat to my happiness. Unlike the driver reacting to the wall, however, a citizen coping with an unfavorable government really only has a couple of options in terms of response. You could decide to go balls-out: take it to the streets,try to set the night on fire, take out the dick of mass mob democracy and stick it to the man. Yeah, you could do that, if you happen to have three or four million really good friends and nothing much to do for the next five-to-eternity. Otherwise? Hit passing gear and drive on around, friends.

We do it all the time, really. We mostly don't even think about it. Case in point: Marijuana. Legal? No. Available? How many pounds do you want? Ditto for online music. Broke, bored, or just determined to cornhole the RIAA, whatever your reasons, you can't be imposed upon to actually pay for music. But then, heavens oh my, Napster bites it, and what of you, Mr. and Mrs. Consumer? Are you reduced to raiding your porn-and-booze budget in order to shell out for the latest soulless corporate pseudo-rock mega-release? I should think not. As long as you have a broadband connection and a little patience, you need never pay for another Matchbox 20 album again.

Why, then, can not the same principles be applied throughout the spectrum of socio- political endeavor? Why don't we, in other words, obey our government the same way we obeyed our mothers when we were thirteen? You know what I mean. You're a teenager, sitting on your favorite beanbag in a darkened basement, headphones jacked into the turntable, scarfing down brownies and marveling at the mystical serendipity with which the liquid-chrome chords of your newest Zeppelin album sync up with the action on the silent television screen. Your mom shouts down that, damn it all, you still haven't taken out the garbage. Now, you can't yell back that you're too fucking wasted to find the floor, let alone the curb, and so you can't help her out right now. No, but you sure as hell can't actually get up. After all, those brownies are fucking solid, man. So what do you do? "Sure, Mom, I'm on it! Honest, this time!"

We all know how that works out, don't we?

Life in these times, much like your teen years, is an intractable guerrilla warfare, pure and simple. The goal of the system is conformity, control, ease of management. Our goal is personal happiness. As in any such war, our 'enemy' can only be victorious by winning, whereas we need only to survive--or in this context, continue to be happy in spite of attempts by others to impose unfavorable circumstances upon us--in order to have won. A couple of easy examples: First, for you poor, put-upon conservatives, we'll take prayer in schools. Law books say no, I say who cares. Pray till your lips fall off, who's going to know? And even if they do, it's protected in the Constitution. What the hell are you waiting for, anyway, an engraved invitation? And I'm not forgetting you, my liberal brothers. We'll take on homosexual marriage. This one's a little tougher, unfortunately. But I've got two words for you: Common Law. It has to start somewhere, and, if you're patient, it'll be legal eventually. Now, I know it's not an ideal solution, and it's unfair, and blah blah blah. One of the most important things to remember about dissidence is that you don't debate inertia with a concrete wall, and you don't dicker principles with a mindless force like a government. All you do is pilfer every little bit of happiness you can, and wait for the system to change.

The system always changes. And change starts on the other side of the wall

So Then I Got To Thinking...

I happened to stumble on this interesting bit of pie-eyed fluff this morning. Seems Mr. JIMWICh favors a mass partyline shift for all democrats into the welcoming arms of the Green Party. Initially, my impression was: "Guh." I mean really now, if we're really fighting for our political lives against the Cute 'n' Cuddly Conservatives, can we be expected to win by joining forces with a party who has, to date, failed to win anything more substantial than a free Coke at the movies? If a bunch of you guys happen to want to join hands and dance round a big fucking tree later on, give me a call; I usually go in for all the touchy-feely hippie bullshit anyway, and besides, a peace rally is a great place to meet girls who are willing to believe that you are a decent, respectable person with whom they should have sex. (Just kidding, honey. I love you. Honest)

A great plan on a number of fronts, really: sex, hallucinogens, campfire singalongs, cool hemp clothing, and, on a more serious note, a legitimate drive to protect the fragile ecosystem, which would obviously not survive the night without the intervention of mankind--and don't mind my eye-rolling, it's congenital.

Also a lousy plan, for most of the same reasons.

Come on, liberals. Do you really think we're going to be taken seriously prancing about with slick little slogans like "Ecological Wisdom" on our sweat-stained hemp T-shirts? The best we could hope for, with this Green-friendly strategy, is that the Neo-Cons become so overwhelmed with mirth that they all choke on their Snowy Owl brisquet and die.

I say, if it's a move you all want, then let's stop fucking around and move. Literally.
Not just to California, but preferably to a whole other fucking continent. Let the bastards have this place. It stinks of them anyway.

In all seriousness, however, I recognize that the Green party has done a great deal for American ecological awareness and have further made great strides in re-shaping our political environment. Therefore, with much humility, I beg the forgiveness of any Green party affiliates I may have offended with the previous rant;

Also, if any of you guys are in the neighborhood, could I maybe score some schwag?


END COMMUNICATION

It Should Be Illegal...

To be this friggin' stupid.

Have you ever done something so stupid, so embarrassingly idiotic that you had to stop suddenly and look around to make sure no one was watching?
Just now, I sat here in front of my trusty computer, blazing my tottering, slew-footed one-man path through the uncharted heart of darkest Internet, all the while chewing grimly on the end of a fluorescent yellow highliter. A fateful popup diverted my attention for a moment, and in that moment I realized that I had shipped a mouthful of fruity-tasting day-glo slime.

That's right.

I chewed my way through the damned thing.

Right the fuck on through.

Damned if I'll ever forget the sight of that little glob of luminous yellow muck bleeding through the water in the toilet bowl, lingering grudgingly, almost accusingly, like the final trace of some act of unspeakable evil...

Fortunately, nobody saw anything, so I felt a little better for a while. Then I thought to myself:

This is far from the dumbest thing I've ever done.

Didn't taste too bad, though...