After several days of some hubbub over some boomboom, the perpetrators of Monday’s terrorist attack have been identified and dealt with. Turns out our government is still fairly competent when it comes to it’s ability to “corner the Dorner.” And this is good.
(As an aside: I still kick myself for not writing an article about the Dorner escapade: “Uncle Dorner’s Cabin,” it would have been called.)
We come away from this historically forgettable week also learning that the attackers were indeed white, but not Fox News white. The Tsarnaev brothers are a bit too foreign-sounding and a bit too Islamic to fit the librul narrative at this point in time. Drat.
The optional Chechnya history lesson is the only interesting and fresh element to this story. The sad fact of the matter is that Boston’s* totes* tragic tragedy ultimately amounts to reinforcement, what is fast becoming a *routine *as our civilization continues it’s decline.
Perhaps I am being a bit too “glass half-empty.” There has been a bright side to all of this: my facebook feed has experienced a welcome reprieve from the pro-faggot marriage posts and “scientific” forced memes. For that I will gladly show solidarity with the herd:
Of course, the Peanut Gallery is profoundly discontent at the government’s handling of Boston… For profoundly stupid reasons, of course.
The empire has invaded the homeland–the chickens have come home to roost, as Malcolm X put it–with more than a million people ordered to cower in their homes. Businesses, schools, universities, public transport are all ordered to close. All homes and other property can be searched without warrants. By what authority? [link]
Who in the world sees a military task force and asks for their papers? Who in the world questions the “right” of rulers to enforce their will at home? What is “authority,” but the guns and badges and uniforms? What mystical higher power intervened, preventing the citizens of Boston from resisting this oppression of the police and military? Why does Lew want to see cooperation as compulsion, support as Stockholm Syndrome?
Reading Lew Rockwell is the metaphorical equivalent of applying Orwellian lipstick on a pig wearing a tin foil hat. This sort of drivel only reinforces my belief that libertarianism is a self-inflicted lobotomy.
I’ve said it before: comfortable minds think of comfortable ideas. Comfort isn’t a natural occurrence. Man’s comfort has to come from somewhere, and you don’t fucking trade with nature, you exploit it.
Fact of the matter is, the evil and oppressive imperialists with their guns and badges make it possible for a lisping maniac to bloviate about childish fantasies from the comfort of his home while his shitbrain readers waste their money on books they never read and #swag to fit in.
Let’s move up the political hierarchy: from Peanut Gallery to Front Row.
It is a noticeable difference, going from LRC to The Guardian. The difference between the two is the difference between actual pretentiousness and feigned pretentiousness. With Lew we always know that she doesn’t even go to school here. With Glenn Greenwald and his ilk, we know we are getting the straight goods.
Too bad the underlying narrative is still shit.
First of all, it was a monstrous yet predictable move by all-consuming Westerners to conflation support with empathy and empathy with social hysteria. Affirmative Action Man in the picture above is deeply wrong, and he’ll collect a paycheck doing so.
You show me “empathy” with a ribbon or twitter post, and I’ll show you a dildo.
You don’t know them, you weren’t there, so quit pretending you feel for them in a manner any more connected and meaningful than the tears you shed for the Tenth Doctor as he regenerated; that is, in a disconnected and* consumptive* manner. Need I show you the plastic bag scene again?
You’ve already forgotten the names of the Newtown victims (if you even made an effort to learn them), and those “evocative” images of Legless Man at the Boston explosions on Monday will be but a vague association in a month or less.
…And all of your tantrums and hysterical paroxysms and moral posturing means less than nothing compared to the men with weapons who trampled on your pathetic sensibilities to take care of a problem composed of men with weapons who trampled on your pathetic sensibilities.
We’re all slaves today, and everyday, for that matter.
…The report also shows him (Tamerlan Tsarnaev) to have been very religious, and poorly integrated in the US. According to Hirn’s report, the Chechen once said: “I don’t have a single American friend, I don’t understand them.” [link]
Tamerlan didn’t understand Americans because there was nothing to understand in the first place. Ours is a hollow society, equality taken to it’s logical conclusion. Which is emptiness, meaninglessness. The religion of the American is destruction re-branded as “transformation.” The American is but an alimentary canal with optional accessories. An American kills an unborn child like an animal yet treats their animals like beings with inalienable rights. The most attachment an American feels towards something outside of itself is when their shit sticks to the toilet paper.
Here were two men driven by something more meaningful than the typical Westerner. They came overseas expecting heroes and ubermenschen to inspire them, only to find empty vessels, kitsch knockoffs that ape the greatness of their predecessors. They sought guidance, and found only overfed children. “They hate us for our freedoms” because we lack the will to do it ourselves. Their violent and nihilistic actions are not that surprising to me.
While their revolt was poorly implemented and poorly directed, I do not begrudge the Tsarnaev brothers for reacting violently against a world that made no sense to them. I am saddened that they could not find what they were seeking, that their wills broke against the Western Kali Yuga. Their violent act will be absorbed into the librul feelborg like all of the others, and nothing will be changed for the better. The eldest brother died for less than nothing.
Maybe the surviving Chechen can take solace in seeing that the misplaced hatred of the American is still fairly tangible.