American South, Inc: “Bringing fascism to your doorstep”

Some police agencies in Georgia are mocking the concept of “implied consent” when it comes to drivers who refuse to submit to alcohol testing after being detained for possible DUI. The premise of implied consent in the case of an alleged DUI is that if you have only been stopped by the cop on suspicion of meeting the minimum state-specific BAL, you still enjoy the right to refuse unreasonable search and seizure, which in such situations, involves submitting to intimately physically intrusive measures whose intent it is to acquire a blood sample in order to determine your BAL at the time you were driving. Of course, the implied consent also implies that by doing so, you risk losing your license for a long period of time. This is usually empowered by the state’s DMV requirement that you submit to such tests as an element of applying and receiving, and maintaining, a driver’s license. Legally, you have the right to say no, except in some George counties.

I was not surprised to learn this disparagement of implied consent is taking place in the South. The South is populated by a bunch of goons who call themselves “Conservative.” This is a big misnomer and a lot of Americans buy it. These Southern goons act the part of “Conservative” but in reality, a lot of them are merely barbaric fascists who exploit the misconception many people share regarding the term “fascist.” Fascists are not American Conservatives, and vice versa. While there are many genuine Conservatives in the South, many of them have been supplanted by the ravings of a bunch of corporatist, fascist hogs. Southern Fascists are one-trick ponies who care only about race and all the other narrowly filtered restrictions that accompany their hyper-Christianity. Southern Fascists are not Conservative. They willingly submit to national campaigns of extra-governmental entities. Southern fascists worship the large car companies they lure to their small towns, and for some odd reason, they are in bed with large media conglomerates because they do everything Hollywood corporatists demand. And the Southern fascists doesn’t give a crap about human rights as an extension of the Constitution. They are jack-booted police who laugh off the concept of implied consent which is simply a citizen’s way of expressing a right of refusal to submit to physical invasion of their body behind the veil of search and seizure.

The rudimentary method of restraint exposed in the news story is a red herring. It is harsh, to be sure, but I agree that it is a manner that must be applied consistently to all detainees in order to avoid unforeseen dangerous situations from unfolding. I have no problem with the practice of restraint and headlock. However, I object to the fact that innocent people are even placed in such a situation to begin with. I believe the Georgian law enforcement Nazis (ie, Phil Miller and Carl Sims) who disregard the spirit of implied consent in order to sublimate the rights of drivers who have done nothing wrong are not Conservatives. The are fascists who would love nothing more than to watch the rest of our Constitutional protections dissolve to their bloodthirsty hunger for punitive totalitarianism. These guys are Conservative in name only. They are Fascists. They don’t believe in the Constitution or individual autonomy of the American citizen. They adulate the practice of absolute authority and their own Hitlerian interpretation of it.

In the report, Phil Miller was particularly cop-smarmy. Typically retreating to his self-appointed superhero role as destroyer of all drunk drivers, he tells the camera, “There’s probably anybody that you can talk to that doesn’t know somebody that was killed by a drunk driver. We oughta do something about that, don’t you think?”

Uh, of course. I’d love to put an end to all drunk driving deaths. But this is the price of liberty. I’d love to put an end to all murders, rapes, robberies, burglaries and thefts…don’t ya think? (insert Southern twang here).

Despite the plethora of dictatorial and overreaching drunk driving laws that have swelled domestic penal codes in the past 30 years, the last I heard, people are still getting killed and maimed by drunk drivers. Every damned day! In fact, I almost killed someone in a drunk driving accident…namely, myself. I wrapped my car around a tree at the side of a freeway off-ramp. I was comatose for 3 or 4 days. This was a situation in which the police were justified in drawing blood without my consent (which they did). I had been involved in an accident that may have involved a serious crime. Likewise, if someone kills or injures another person in a car accident, then of course this is situation where blood can be forcibly taken from someone because the potential crime is more grave than a misdemeanor DUI. As far as I know, driving erratically in not a crime. If law enforcement overrides your implied consent right simply to convict you of a victimless crime, then I can only surmise that the Fascists are seeking to bolster the community coffers of their elitist bosses, ie, public officials. If you maintain your right not to give blood to the police, you surrender your “privilege” to drive (as the DMV fondly calls it) because DMVs operate supra-Constitutionally. DMVs are answerable to no one and this is how Southern law-and-order “Conservatives” like to see themselves.

If the Phil Miller’s of America are so concerned about drunk driving deaths, perhaps they should work to ban alcohol completely. We saw how well that went once upon a time. Still, such drastic measures would reduce drunk driving deaths more than any other stupid Fascist rape of our civil liberties.

So-called Southern conservatives are fascists and aren’t bothered with the conservative ideal. They sell out their soul to the highest foreign corporate bidder and seek to control behavior as oppressively as the California nannies who clog up the capital of my home state. The only difference is that Southern Fascists hide behind moralistic Christian principles. This is their Godless religion. The real Conservative are the frontier cowboy types from the West and Mountain states. These people uphold the principle of self-determination and independence from the Feds or oligarchical meddling of any sort. They are the real Conservatives but because of this, they decline the stage they want no part of.

My drunk driving excursion from 2005.

I’m a great guy…on the clock.

I recall several visits I paid to my mom at work when I was a child. Her behavior there was strikingly different. I couldn’t figure out why. I knew she was at work and this was a different “world,” but still, I was dismayed by her seriousness and emotional sparseness compared to her home personality. She was different at work and this was my first exposure to the reality of life that one’s work life bears absolutely no resemblance to one’s home life, and the twain shall never meet, and in fact, shouldn’t ever meet. Over the years, after I had entered the work force, the ideology was propagated that one must leave work at work, and that one’s personal life was off limits to the quandaries of work. Of course this is a big fat lie. People bring work home all the time in the form of long-winded spiels of venting which the listener can only partially visualize or understand being that everything they hear about the speaker’s work place is entirely third hand. Everyone seems to bring their work home, and nowadays, workers, with the assistance of smart phones and work station internet access, seem to bring all their droll home life to work as well. The worlds are blurring, but in the old days it was different. Once you left home, your only connection was the phone, and even that was a means of communication strongly discouraged by many employers, or at least, its incessant abuse. If they could see the typical worker bee nowadays! Not to be “sexist,” but it seems the worst abusers of the personal hemorrhaging into the professional are women. They sit at their desk all day, texting, reading all the updated bullshit their girlfriends and cousins post from their jobs. It’s one big orgy of intrusions from the personal life into the work.

In this sense, many younger folks display work personalities that are more inline with their home personalities because the digital age has blurred the differentiation.

Most of the “older” people I know, those who were groomed and raised on the concept of separation of work from home, and persist in this practice, are the ones whose work personalities deviate most harshly from their home personalities. In eras past, we went to work where we were different and almost unrecognizable to our children or spouse. Nowadays, when people are at work, their personality is merely an extension of their personal identity.

I am one of those “old” people who was groomed on the idea of a separation between work and home, one which is further exacerbated by my reluctance, REFUSAL, to buy or use a smart phone. I leave home to go to work, to…go to work, and nothing else. What a concept. I have no need to cart my personal life around. Hence, my work personality is nothing like my home personality. I am the type who acts like a playful, happy clown on the job, but like a morose lump of coal at home. If I were to become enraptured with a smart phone, it’s entirely possible I would become a really unpleasant person at work as well.

Zimmerman, Martin, and all their trashy offerings. It’s not about race, it’s about the mediocrity of American culture.

I’m surprised but I have no one to blame but myself.

This is not the trial of the century. It is the trash collection of the century. It is the fruition of Jerry Springer garbage coming to life real time right in front of our eyes, illustriously roosting.

This Daily Mail story detailing opening days of the Florida trial of George Zimmerman, who is accused in the murder of 7-11 aficionado, Treyvon Martin, is brimming with wonderful photographs snagged from some of the early intellectually self-flagellant characters partaking in the courtroom drama.

The first thing that I note when reading about these people and their courtroom antics is that they represent a side of life that scares the hell out of me. Not because of its direct impact on my life, but for what it portends for American society in the days and decades to come. This trial is an ensemble cast of cagey characters and Hometown Buffet-level detritus of society, and the most ironic thing is…they are the harbingers of a new era in racial evolution. We, the developed, First World country that puts men on the moon and dissembles the quantum physics of the obfuscatory subatomic world, is being led into the cultural chaos of a vast, nationally televised, Jerry Spring sideshow. replete with the most distasteful and stone-cold dense uncritical mass of subhuman ineptitude to be gathered in a single courtroom in ages.

Apparently we are looking to this trial, and especially its outcome, for an answer, for a token gesture…of what, I don’t know. Is it train wreck curiosity? Is there perhaps a social cue to be gleaned for the coming ages from the proverbial ramblings of illiterate but well-manicured children acting like children, and big-busted South American gyrations on the witness stand? I believe that as a dull-minded culture, we are fascinated by the wood-staged antics of trashy people who happened to be in the vicinity of a really trashy American event that signifies nothing, absolutely nothing, about this country other than its dearth of anything remotely redeeming.

This country will collapse, but it’s not the country’s fault. Let’s blame human nature which is squeezed into unrealistic balls of congealed lassitude that bring ignorance and cognitive malaise to the People in governmental sanctioned doses of hypnotic marching orders.

The Zimmerman trial is ultimately revealing about our character, but not for the black/white fissures some seek. It is revealing for that which it lacks.

Hell with it all. Bring me the popcorn. I want to see the bloodstained windows.

The darkness between

I have seen the pain. I have known it. Known its insides.

Once known, the pain can never be unknown nor resolved. It can only be shuffled into more obscure and shadowed corners of your mind, but here, the pain lingers in the dark and hence, becomes more frightening and fearsome for its foretold promises of surprise and frightened eruptions of anticipation.

I saw a beggar,
Leaning on his wooden crutch
He said to me
“You must not ask for so much.”

And a pretty woman
Leaning in her darkened door
She cried to me
“Hey, why not ask for more?”

-Leonard Cohen, Bird On A Wire

The space between the two points of agony is laden with a murky quagmire of uneasy ennui. Scuttling back and forth between the two polarized ends of unjoyous existence. I lapse in and out of a dim surreal life that embraces and dispels but never grasps. I bounce like a ball, thriving and dying in worlds apart but none I can ever call Life.

Promises await and doom retorts. Disaster promises pain but pain expunges sorrow for it is so swift and vivid that I cannot keep an eye on its gruesome, torrid blot on my sanity.

The pain was swift and sure, but she offered solace and a cushion-like sanctuary which I sank into, unmesmerized by my perverse intrigue, releasing cares as I sank deeper and the pain was an astronomically distant glimmer of bleakness. The cushion embrace whispered sweet, warm air in my ear but just then the cacophonous foghorn of inevitable deaths of forlorn voyages tore into my skull like a dagger impaling a soul.

Release me now, I cried at the night.

Release my tethered remnants, I cried in her night sky orbs.

Release me.

Release me from the pendulum promises of greater worlds and lesser hells.

The point between is death. Each bookend is the darting illusion of life. We escape death by fooling ourselves the two opposing ends of life are distracting enough to warrant our lascivious attention. We relish them as gifts but they are troublesome, and to the clear perspective, entirely unworthy of our plaintive efforts. Distraction is our escape; devotion is our death.

The enemy of the State is the enemy of the Board

Rich or poor, pretty or ugly, or pretty ugly, it doesn’t matter. The common theme coursing through the malevolent vein of mankind seems to be the welcome acceptance, rather, embrace, of Life, as we are told we should live it.

For the rich and the beautiful, such Life is simple, for it chases them down and devours them before our eyes. Ensconced in their Ferraris and mansions, Life squeezes them out its pitted gullet for our low-minded amusement. For the poor, Life is a vain and draining aspiration. The poor make all the bad choices turned into low-brow clown mirror-images of the celebrity low-lifes.

Everyone tries to fulfill the fulfillment of Life as we are told it should be.

The wonderful thing about Life is that we lose conception of it and fixate on the dictum of Life as to its preferred image.

Life as we should live it takes precedent over reason. Life as we should live it becomes a purchase, a Good, that can be procured if one surrenders to the matrix with enough blind gusto and hollow passion. That Life can be yours but you fool yourself that it has meaning because you are hypnotized that that it has meaning. Thus, you devote meaningless time to its pursuit. Meaning begets meaningless when our minds our sick. You learn stupid shit in a stupid school in stupid courses and you finally graduate with a stupid degree, but you know what? You are still stupid.

You are a hollow soul.

You have not progressed beyond the altars of moral homogeneity.

You have nothing to give, nothing to teach. You are a pulsing robot.

Life has been boundaried by the Interests. Either you, 1) obey, or, 2) flounder.

The Interests don’t give a flying fuck about your individuality. They want you to join the Parade of Life and “happily” assume the idiot’s charade. This is the Life We Should Live. You have been forewarned.

The government, in 2013, an embodiment of the Corporation and global faceless behemoth, wants you to buy into the Life Paradigm and hence, the consumerist and unthinking Idiot’s Charade.

They want you to compete with your neighbor, so they implant petty jealousy. They want you to compete with your co-worker, so they implant blood-thirst.

And they want you to compete with your buddy, so they implant vanity.

The “interests,” the capitalist business infrastructure, wants you to compete with your own stupid interests. They proclaim the wonder of competition but only call upon it to suit their own use, not our higher calling.

You must live this Life. Fulfill it. Do all you can to swell it, teach your children the strength to eschew. Mock the preordained dream.

Sell your soul, blanch your identify, subsume You, to the matrix that is Life. Do not think. Do not be different or unique. The conservatives will ridicule your minor path. They will exact your originality against you.

You must fight back using their tool of entrenched chicken-shitty-dness!

Mostly, NEVER QUESTION. Our masters do not appreciate those who question and doubt.

Their pop culture sends us to the fringes. Their authoritarianism makes us enemies of the Board.

You have 2 options.

Live their Life.

Or be the Enemy.