Posts Tagged ‘ISIS’

Buckle-Up, Sugar-Tits, because rocky is the road...

Buckle-Up, Sugar-Tits, because rocky is the road…

Greetings Wayward Traveler,

Weary as ever, I see. Come in, come in; make yourself at home. Warm your stockings next to the electric fire and I will pour you some of this Polish cherry brandy I’ve come across through my speculative wagering in the Occident. You’ve arrived at this threshold, of course, for the same reason as in years past: to peer into the crystal ball which is my mind for knowledge of the path ahead. Well, buckle-up, Sugar-Tits, because rocky is the road and as Caesar said on the far side of the Rubicon, “the die is cast”.

Without further ado, here is your 2015:

  1. Putin, like a Phoenix, will rise from the Ashes of his Demise and Escalate a New Cold War!
Vlad Putin inciting chaos in the Ukraine

Vlad Putin inciting chaos in the Ukraine

2012 – Putin re-ascended to Russian presidency as I predicted
2013 – Putin demise did not occur as I predicted, but
2014 – Putin’s demise did occur as I re-predicted.

Despite a great start of 2014 for Vladimir Putin, what with hosting the Olympic Games, annexing a fine piece of real estate and Cossacks whipping Pussy Riot punk rockers, the year ended with Russia in financial ruins. After Vlad seized Crimea, the Western Establishment along with the Saudis reacted with more than just sanctions: markets were manipulated to drop the price of oil to deal a devastating blow to the Russian economy. Why all of the cheap gas lately? It is the result of the Establishment telling Vladimir Putin to go fuck himself.

And fuck himself, Vlad has. With nowhere else to turn, the desperate Vladimir has signed-off on his pound of flesh to get into bed with the clammy ghosts of Mao. Yes, the great loan shark that is China is all that is keeping Russia afloat. What comes next will be global strife as Vladimir tears off his tattered shirt and gets back astride his bear to lead the Russian people into another age of anti-West paranoia, bringing us the next Cold War. This time, it will not be quietly fought over an East and West Germany, but rather East and West Ukraine.

China wants American military focus out of the China Sea and a new Cold War would help. The Military Industrial Complex wants constant armament and a new Cold War along with the constant anti-Jihadi defense build-up is a dream come true.

  1. New Drinking Establishments will be constructed like Cyber-Cafes for Virtual Socializing

Between Google Glass and Facebook’s purchasing of Oculus Rift (for $2 Bill, no less), people will be wearing a lot more shit on their face in 2015. The shift from flesh & blood socializing to online social networking will escalate as virtual reality features come into play. Why go to a traditional bar to meet underwhelming local personage when you can go to Ralph’s VR Café, sit alone in a cubicle slurping martinis through a straw and cyber-mingle with drunks from all over the world? Why go to a brick & mortar shopping mall when you can strap on your Virtual Reality mask and meet your friends in a virtual market where you can legitimately shop for anything (even try on clothes after you enter your biometrics)? In the future, we’ll go to virtual nightclubs where our avatar bodies dance with a whole lot more rhythm than we’re capable of in our physical form. We can go to brothels, opting to be either the john or the prostitute, depending on whichever role you wish to assume. Just imagine: instead of driving over to Applebees for another Friday night with a dyspeptic spouse, you can head down to Ralph’s VR Café and link-up with the animated avatar of some lonesome man/woman on the other side of the world (or the other side of your duplex) to tango or overthrow ancient Carthage.

Terms like ‘friend’, ‘community’, ‘society’ will become increasingly vague as a simulated dream world overtakes reality.

  1. Green Co-Opt Gyms will be a Thing

All they need to do is figure out how to collect energy off of a stair-master like they do a wind turbine and then BOOM: you will have a cottage industry of Co-Opt Gymnasiums where energy exerted into the machines creates storable power to be sold into the infrastructure. Members of these gyms will receive monetary benefits for the amount of output they put into the gym (within reason, the incentive will come with a ceiling to keep the gym-rats from hogging all the spoils). Think about it: if you commit to 10 hours on the excite bike or 8 hours on the elliptical or 6 hours on the treadmill per week, you will pay off your gym membership with the reusable energy you create. Green gyms with benefits: this will be a thing.

Intermission #1: So How Does Vic Do It?

How do I do it? How do I know shit with such accuracy (evidenced by my 2014 success rate)? Well, you should realize time isn’t just relative, it’s all bullshit. Imagine a bowling ball suspended over an egg crate hung by dental floss over a smoldering Jacuzzi pit of bubbly warmth. In this scenario, gravity = gravity, bowling ball = time, perception = egg yolk and you are the one cleaning up the hot tub.

Make sense? No? Okay.

  1. Hot Meat Pies will be the Culinary Fad of 2015

I don’t really understand the “Paleo Diet” as such a thing would require us keeping our wisdom teeth to gnash on tree roots and the like. Right? Regardless, or irregardless as the kids are saying these days, meat & potatoes are IN while carbs are OUT. Imagine, now, a Chicken Pot Pie where the crust is carbohydrate alternative like… I don’t know, tree root? Either way, what I see is a move towards hot meat pies, loaded with plenty of meats and starches and kept together with buttery gravy and held into place by whichever shell is non-carb.

Look for it – hot pies and wisdom tooth implants.

  1. Cuban Cigars Flood Market

Obama has opened the flood gates, allowing for limited trade between America and Cuba. This is going to have a profound impact on the trendy cigar bar scene in the United States. While any aficionado can tell you the world over from Toronto to Tokyo is rife with Cuban cigars, here in the States we have been sans Cubano (due to special interest influenced foreign policy over the last few decades). In the prior void of the esteemed Cuban tobacco, industries in Honduras and the Dominican Republic have prospered offering their version of tobacco (Cuban seed grown on local war-torn ground) stogie. Once the current market adjusts, Cuban cigars will become available at a great premium due to high American domestic demand. The Cuban originals are not necessarily superior in quality, but their reputation alone may drive Honduran and Dominican companies out of the market.

  1. Next Big Virus Hysteria Will Emerge From Asia

While MERS and Ebola stole headlines in 2014 after popping up in Africa, the world-ending disease/virus to emerge in 2015 will be out of Asia. There are more pigs in China than there is tea. More pigs than you can even imagine. If you imagine an absurd number of pigs in China, that number would be less than the amount of pigs floating dead in Chinese rivers. So here is the fun thing about pigs: the dirty bastards are the French Academy of Cuisine in regards to cooking up new diseases. Swine can swallow bird flu and man flu because swine are fed and eat everything, including dead birds and man shit, and then swine digestive systems will reimagine all these bugs into a superbug then become depressed and drown itself in a river to wash up in Shanghai only to be served at Taco Bell and voila! you have a world-wide pandemic of Flying-Pig Flu H37N50.

Intermission #2: back to How Does Vic Do It?

Srirachomancy: it looks like Jesus, or wait, maybe its just John Belushi...

Srirachomancy: it looks like Jesus, or wait, maybe it’s just John Belushi…

This is how I predict the future: it is a black magic divining craft I like to call Srirachomancy. First, I find a breakfast sandwich. Nothing vegan as Srirachomancy requires at least two separate animals to be sacrificed for this to work. An egg & turkey sausage sandwich is fine, even though both meats are fowl. Pork of some sort would be better, but whatevs… Sandwich secured, I squirt a blazing drizzle of Sriracha sauce atop the highest layer of meat before pushing down the sandwich top. English muffins work much better than croissants for obvious reasons (bagel’ll work in a pinch). Once the sandwich top is settled, lift it up to reveal the splatter on the ceiling. Srirachomancy involves interpreting the red-splattery result of the collision between solids with the spicy liquid in-between acting as our medium.

So now you see as I see…

  1. The Old will get Older and the Young will become more Anarchistic 

There is a twilighting of talent as the Baby Boomers fade into the great dusk. This is occurring in the corporate world and, perhaps more troubling, in the skilled labor arena where trade guilds are lacking apprentices to fulfill the next generation of carpenter, electrician and plumber. Why is there no skilled labor amongst the heaps of unemployed youth? Blame the Establishment (Creditors, Realtor Association, Chamber of Commerce) for selling the populace with messages of how glorious college education is because education is money and money gets real estate and real estate is the American Dream no matter the cost. Such messages end up with Americans outspending what they will never earn only to lose what they briefly had. The American Dream is a banker’s sales pitch: become indebted, work hard and become free once you pay-off the debt & vigorish. But that vig is a bitch!

Financial leverage is a tricky game. If you are a commercial entity with capital to spare, leverage that shit. If you are a student with only your future at stake, leverage becomes another matter. This new generation emerging from college is realizing the dream they’ve been sold is a trap of indentured domestication. Obama pledging, as he has recently done, free community college tuition is nothing more than a drug dealer offering a couple free scores in order to drive up the dependency. This isn’t about furthering education; America needs more electricians and few liberal arts degrees. This is about increasing the number of potential debtors to the banks who want to own us all.

This is a cocktail that will incite civil unrest. What happens when you tree a r’coon or back an opossum into a corner? They lose all of their political ideals and turn to anarchism.

  1. ISIS/ISIL is on the Decline while Roguishness Overall Thrives

Currently, ISIS/L is being bombarded with air-strikes. These will increase and continue until the desert buccaneers are nothing but a loose bunch of highwaymen doing little more than bootlegging oil and spreading jihadist sexually transmitted diseases in the name of their prophet of choice (fyi jihadis don’t wear condoms).

Of course, Islamic Radicalism will remain constant. Yemen will become a drone playground while Europe and other ports of entry will continue to be terrorized by the Jihad on Tour. Even if Yemen sinks into the Earth’s mantle, the radicals will find the next rogue state haven. The War on Terrorism is a new cottage industry for the Industrial Military Complex who consider indefinite terror threat good for business. Get used to it: until the robots rise up and exterminate us or aliens return to hit the reset button, world wide jihad is the new norm.

This threat of random jihadist violence will increase the armament of local police forces (despite a disastrous 2014 in Ferguson and everywhere) as well as home-brewed militias. 2nd Amendment exaggerators will find reason to furnish themselves with rocket-propelled grenades, laser death-rays and whatever other lethal shit pops up on the internet, which is exactly what the Military Industrial Complex has brainwashed them to do (subliminal “buy more guns” messages can be found in their mayonnaise if you stare long enough).

  1. Crypto-Currencies do not go away

Bit-Coin and many other alternatives are here to stay. This is a good thing. Crypto-Currencies cannot be counterfeited or manipulated, which is what has the Establishment queasy. Here is how it works: the crypto-currency’s worth is based off the difficulty of solving the mathematical problem built into the programming. Imagine gold’s value not being judged by the karat or the ounce, but rather the swings of the axe against the earth or the hours of sifting through river silt. This is how crypto-currency works. The inherent value of currencies put them out of reach of governmental control. Local economies can be made more sovereign by switching to crypto-currencies versus depending on the dollar, the euro or other garbage out there. What is strange today will be the norm tomorrow.

  1. Jesus will Return in September

Halleluiah!

Jesus returns this September!

Jesus returns this September!

Yes, we are approaching the next prophesized END TIMES date in September of 2015 when Jesus is supposed to make his comeback and vacuum up all the cool people to take back to Heaven or wherever. There is a sub-set of conspiracy theorists devoted to the literal interpretation of REVELATIONS and how the events around us fit into the prophecies. I call them the Revelator Crowd. What they are especially tickled over with this coming September is the coincidence that Pope Frank will be Stateside for the assumed Return! Aussie and Germanic and Brit and Israeli Apocalyptophiles probably do not give a damn about Frank in the USA, but American paranoiacs certainly do. What does it mean? Is Pope Frank coming to America because he realizes Jesus is rapturing Americans first? Or, YIKES!, could it be Pope Frank is actually the Antichrist journeying to America to seize control in the post-rapture power void?

Either way, End of Days is Nigh. Which makes for interesting conversation.

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We underestimated ISIL and overestimated the fighting capability of the Iraqi army.

– James Clapper, Director of National Intelligence, September 2014.

Here, take these. They will help you as much as anything if you are afraid of Ebola. There is a vaccine out there, but Big Pharma will not market it as long as the virus stays in Africa. Once it is here, on American soil, then they will cash in.

– Doc Kelly after tossing Vic Neverman a box of TicTac’s, May 2014.

All’s quiet on the western front page headlines, at least where war-torn Palestine and Ukraine are concerned. Instead, the hysteria du jour is the combo-meal blight against humanity: ISIS, Ebola and the rhetorical question on the side, “Were these crises exacerbated by American incompetence?”

Let us consider…

The Obama Administration’s consistent Foreign Policy of “Hold Your Breath and Hope it Goes Away” might work on horse-flies, but with Libya, Syria, Russia, ISIS(L) and Ebola, the diseases only festered and spread. Incompetence knows no political persuasion, the current Administration inherited a world riddled with holes after 8 years of the Dick Cheney Administration’s Foreign Policy of “Shoot First and Let God Sort it Out” (God, as it seems, is an absentee landlord and does not cleanup after His residents, which is how the rats took over the ship Iraq). What is absolutely certain is that we, the West, did not expect this Clusterfuckdom.

Ebola is on American soil and there is a chance worth considering ISIS is here too. If we underestimated these diseases over there, surely we are capable of such bad maths on the domestic front.

The Ebola epidemic will be cataclysmic, this much is inescapable. Developing Africa will be set back decades or more, with substantial damage done to their economy and infrastructure, let alone politics. America, however, is fine as long as Ebola does not evolve into an airborne plague. America will survive because Big Pharma will start churning out the pillboxes to manage the illness (management is more profitable than a cure). The 1st World will survive.

Islamic State of Syria and Such and Such... no big deal, really

Islamic State of Syria and Such and Such… no big deal, really

The ISIS (also known as ISIL, the difference being an Islamic State limited to Iraq and Syria and an Islamic State limited to Iraq and the Levant, which is the majority of the Eastern Mediterranean and the term of choice by the Obama Administration likely because there is a lobby group trying to keep Osiris’s wife’s out of the whole ordeal) threat is similarly cataclysmic – more so for the Middle East, than America, unless you consider gas prices. Rather than being physiologically passed from person to person like Ebola, ISIS is a meme, an idea which could occur to any lone-nut son-of-a-dick in East Paducah. If you look into the franchising of the ISIS brand, the requirements are startling little – you need to be a man (but not always), you need to not like Israel, you have to be at least moderately angry, you need no marksmanship or warrior skill at all just a willingness to shove explosive up your posterior and wait for an opportune moment to fart. You too can be the owner of an ISIS franchise, serving all of East Paducah with as little as $5 down and your life to go.

Is there a complex conspiracy scheme of Islamic fanatics in America? Most likely, no. Is there a threat of ISIS-inspired terror in America? Absolutely yes. A fanatical meme cannot be contained within the tainted sands between Damascus and Baghdad. Not with the internet available…

WINTER PARK, Fla

When it comes to the threat of ISIS sleeper cells, the bat-shit crazy survivalist militia crowd is sitting smug despite being just as bat-shit crazy as ever. I met my favorite bat-shitter, the author of Surthrivalism: Not Just Surviving in a Post-Apocalyptic World, but Thriving!, Cyrus Lee Hancock at a Middle Florida taco joint. He liked the venue, even if it was filled with hipsters.

“Do you know what hipsters are good for?” Cyrus Lee Hancock inquired. I guessed tacos. He answered his own question, “Target practice.”

Cyrus Lee Hancock's business advertised with his trademark Drop Bear

Cyrus Lee Hancock’s business advertised with his trademark Drop Bear

Cyrus Lee Hancock, if you read the transcripts of his ranted dictation, sounds like a curmudgeonly bastard older than sin, yet he is merely a youthful prodigy at the miser trade, the same age of the antagonistic hipster Millennials (roughly 30, give or take a few energy drinks). His disposition, when he is not ranting, is one of cavalier indifference – he appears aloof, staring into space as if trying to remember a grocery list, his eyes glassy and faraway. It’s all a ploy, however – a ruse to lure the fly into the trap. Once your guard is down, he’ll have a fork in your Achilles tendon or a chop-stick up a nostril until it is tickling your temporal lobe. And so I decided on tacos.

Vaya con dios, motherfucker.” Cyrus Lee Hancock saluted the burrito in his basket prior to attack.

How is the survivalist militia community responding to these threats at home? Cyrus Lee Hancock offered to show me a text from one of the fanatics in his Gun Rights Book Club back in Nashville.

Wolf is @ the door. Just read Australian ISIS cell in Australia story. Need to keep stocking up (on ammunition, artillery, barbed wire, etc.). Don’t want to get caught flat-footed.

– Barry von Doom

Indeed, Barry, the wolf is at the door.

Fuck you ISIS, your shitty carsalesmen

Fuck you ISIS, you’re shitty carsalesmen

“Fucking ridiculous, bro.” Cyrus Lee Hancock deleted the message with his typical cavalier indifference. “But here’s the thing. These ISIS fuckers are killing women and children first. They are crucifying Christians and beheading any westerner they can find within a camera lens. They have literally, like for the whole purpose of using the term ‘literal’, created rivers of blood by dumping their murdered victims into rivers. They are morbid, like, fucking mor-bid to the point of being medieval barbaric. Which is why I come to you. You’re the crusade historian. If ISIS occupies American territory as sleeper cells, what sort of medieval defenses can we put up to thwart their fucking savagery? Barbarians at the gate, bro. They’re knocking, how we gonna answer?”

Cyrus Lee Hancock, it should be noted, has been actively preparing himself for just this sort of showdown for the last twenty-five years. He is a gunsmith who obtains gun pieces like random Lego bits at whichever gun shows he can purchase anonymously (thanks exaggerated 2nd Amendment) to later piece together his dream gun, of which he has a nightmarish arsenal. He has purchased suppressors…

“Wait, what?” I asked. “You own a silencer? Why the hell is it legal for a common citizen to own a silencer?”

“It isn’t legal.” Cyrus Lee Hancock admitted. “For an individual to own a noise suppressor for a gun, however, it is legal for a legal trust to own a suppressor.”

“Fucking rubbish.”

“I would like to introduce you to the Legal Trust of Cyrus Lee Fucking Hancock!”

Cyrus Lee Hancock, or at least the Legal Trust of Cyrus Lee Fucking Hancock, is a gunsmith with enough ammunition to take back Crimea and he is building a compound outside Nashville, TN, to rival the one we (he, the delightful water-nymph from the Everglades wife of his and me, Vic Neverman) shared during the Maya Apocalypse of 2012. Cyrus Lee sees himself resilient against the next apocalypse, regardless of its nature, and is preparing himself for an extended siege by the state police, his sinning heathen neighbors, uprising robots, zombie hordes, talking apes, or, perhaps, ISIS terror cells.

“Shit’s gonna get Medieval, man. So hit me. What can I expect? What can I do to defend?”

“Hmm.” I thunk before lecture.

In a world with ISIS comingling with Ebola, you could have a replay of the Athens v. Sparta match where plague victims were catapulted over city walls, just this time it would be Ebola victims catapulted over the walls of the Grand Ole Opry. The Mongols fought the Romans similarly epochs later when the Bubonic Plague was just a fledgling cough & boil act, which helped spread the Black Death throughout Europe. Such debased deviancy shan’t be overlooked by today’s fatalistic douche-bag terrorist.

ISIS Executions

ISIS Executions

The best Crusade Era Fortress had a high outer wall, with a death valley between it and the internal wall, which should be higher than the outer so defenders on the inside ramparts could help in the defense of the outer wall. When you are dealing with a siege, you are going to have to deal with sappers and ladders. The sappers will dig tunnels under your walls in attempt to blow shit up beneath you. Ladders will be laid upon the walls if the enemy has enough men to sacrifice in attempt to gain a position atop your walls – think Benghazi 2012. These days, the battering ram has been replaced with the kamikaze truck bomb – think Beirut 1983. Siege Warcraft has its priorities and right after starving, poisoning, suffocating, scaring the shit out of the opponent, getting through the walls is the prime directive.

Counter-measures against a siege would include boiling tar or oil the defender could rain down upon the enemy as the invader attempted to scale the walls. These days, car batteries and flaming bottles of Fireball cinnamon booze will do. Scorpion bombs were all the rage a millennium ago – you just need a ceramic pot to bottle up venomous ne’er-do-well creatures and fling it at the enemy – it’s a psyche-fucker as much as anything. And if the ISIS terrorists are charging atop elephants they stole from the zoo, Crusader wisdom says let loose with flaming bacon: grease up a bunch of pigs with something flammable then set light and send them after the elephants. Of course, a flaming pig is hard to control and the porcine conflagrant might run right back where they came from, so close the fucking slide glass door you dipshit!

Asia Minor, several stories beneath the ground where the dwarf urinals lay in wait

Vic hundreds of feet underground in Persia, attempting to use the ancient dwarfish urinals of Cappadocia.

To withstand a siege, you need the necessaries: shelter, food, water, guns & ammo. After that, secrecy is a virtue. In Asia Minor, I explored an underground bunker in Cappadocia a thousand and some change years old where ancient Christians hid as the marauding barbarian hordes rode through town. Four stories worth of underground city was built then and still exists today as a meandering Tolkien dwarf retirement community. It was there I found my idyllic off-the-grid home, only to learn my companion was a trained seductress sent to Istanbul to spy on Americans by order of Beijing, but stories, another time… etc.

Are things irreversible? Is this the destiny we must prepare for?

Irreversible, yes, but also containable. Regardless, a world of plague and jihadi jackrabbits must be anticipated. To not prepare would be negligence. This may not be the year a hurricane strikes, but you will still want to be ready for the storm.

And the climate is only getting warmer.

Any kid growing up between Djibouti and Kashmir could see his uncle, sister, pet rock blown to fucking bits courtesy of an American Predator Drone on a bright blue-sky day. Living under a repressive heaven associates an ill-menace with blue skies and the notion of America. They do not see America as the great purveyor of freedom – they do not know what freedom is. The greatest recruiters of tomorrow’s terrorists is, unfortunately, us, the US, the West. Violence begets violence where little exists beyond retribution.

“For fuck’s sake.” Cyrus Lee Hancock derided me. “You sound like a bleeding-heart liberal hipster. You are depressing my burrito. Look at it! It is crying tears of Sriracha sauce.”

“Whatever, asshole.” I responded within the taco joint. “You’re as much a hipster as the rest of them.”

“Blasphemy!” Cyrus Lee Hancock spat and looked for a fork.

Appendix H: Why is Hipster? featuring Cyrus Lee Hancock

Police State in the America Heartland

Police State in the America Heartland

I was in no great hurry to return to the United States. Vagabonding in Morocco suited my appetites and appealed to my nostalgie de la boue. I had established a cavalier existence as an ex-pat living in an Outremer oasis where I traded in spice and napped between beers. Ultimately, my paradise would be dashed by the winds of the sirocco. I had gone broke attempting to distill tequila with the local agave (not to mention the check from the Australians for “espionage services” bounced), I was plagued by the subversive machinations of the Qatari Royals who didn’t appreciate my pissing on their bee hive and I couldn’t keep ignoring the nastiest elephant in the room: Ebola.

Thus, I returned to the fascist dystopia of my homeland where racially motivated protests in Missouri were confronted by the National Guard. In a world where headlines are shared with threats of ISIS and Hezbollah sleeper cells, this is the new normal. Call it “proactive” or “over-reactive”, just be sure to get your hands up and head down until the cloud of pepper spray passes. At the core of the overreaction is the hardware – military leftovers handed down from Big Brother to the cross-eyed cousins working for the local constable.

Why is Hulk not a massage therapist? Because SMASH. Why should we not put military-grade weapons in the hands of every small town copper? Because SMASH.

The cities are overreacting just as quickly. After the Boston Marathon Bombing, the city was occupied by its own militarized police force exercising Marshal Law. Two dangerous suspects were on the loose, thus tanks. Overreaction is the new normal. Hulk SMASH is the new normal. Are there Hezbollah or ISIS sleeper cells in America? Unlikely. Yet, we are armed for Red Dawn.

Remember Reaganomics? Trickle-down theory? Well, you build a Star Wars missile defense system for the Military Industrial Complex, you are going to have some trickling down, right? Trickle, trickle, little star, now you have traffic cops with javelin missile launchers and shit…

– Reverend Cyrus Lee Hancock of the Church of John the Revelator

REDINGTON SHORES, Fla

Frieda Johnson, B-movie starlet*, would arrive home to her beach cottage to find an unexpected bouquet of lilies tossed atop her kitchen counter in between a bottle of fine scotch and a week’s worth of dishes in the sink. Within the refrigerator, Frieda would notice missing a can of cheap domestic swill. It would become apparent to her, if it hadn’t been already, Vic Neverman had been there. White lilies, good scotch and vanishing beer was not the calling card of this haunted vagabond, but it damn well should (note to self). Frieda would leave the cottage in search of Vic, wandering through the backyard of broken, sun-bleached concrete, onto the sandy pass through the sea oats and sandspurs and onto the beach where the Gulf of Mexico lapped its salty regurgitate along the shore in gently passing waves. Within the dunes she would find Vic Neverman, sitting beerless. Why no beer? Because police state.

*you might recognize Frieda’s work in various dragon-centric melodramas, slasher horror films and local fashion commercials.

I had returned from North Africa weeks earlier, long enough to contract a chigger infestation in Central Florida and make the drive to the Gulf Coast to soak chigger-ridden feet in the seawater. Here in Redington Shores, the endless expanse of white sands are mostly desolate and empty of mammalian presence this time of year due to the pitiless heat and thunderhead monstrosities hovering overhead. This is where I found solace and despite the dearth of beachcombers, this is where the local police found their person of interest while patrolling in their four-wheeled tank. I waved neighborly at the passing stooge, only for police to reverse in its tank tracks. Summoned by the deputy within, I approached his warhorse. There is certainly, positively, absolutely no alcohol allowed on the beach. I admitted my mistake to the fat bastard sitting in the cozy air-conditioning of the police tank and then hooked a thumb over my shoulder; the sign read “no bottles” and “no vehicles allowed on the beach”. I had a can of beer. Smokey had a tank.  Who was in the wrong?

Smokey took off his Terminator glasses. He was seeing red, though his eyes, sadly, did not glow robotic. I can outrun Officer Blutarsky, was my prevailing thought. He’d probably chase me through the sea oats in his tank; agility, however, favors my nimble feet. Alas… my bare feet were in a sand-spurred minefield. Acquiescing, I threw away the empty can of beer. Smokey waited, watching and then sped away in a 7 mph cloud of sand-dollar dust.

What I like is how some schmuck sheriff somewhere, he being the only law dog in town, somehow received not 1 but 2 MRAPs..as if Barney Fife needs mine-resistant hardware to fend off the meth-heads besieging the proletariat.

Seeing as there doesn’t seem to be much of a qualification need for this stuff I think we should apply for some grenade launchers and Predator drones.

– Prof. Erasmus of Otter Dam Military Academy

Ferguson, Mizzou, this was not. Fascism, however, has gone grassroots.

WATERTOWN, Mass, SWAT searches for the Tsarnaev brothers.

WATERTOWN, Mass, SWAT searches for the Tsarnaev brothers.

When it comes to the over-reaction of police force, there is fault in the mere ability to overreact. Abuse of the badge can exist without war gear, yet it is the hand-me-down toys of the Military Industrial Complex that has fallen into the laps of your local yahoo deputy that exacerbates the overreaction. Ike Eisenhower warned us about the Military Industrial Complex. The war companies prospered in the Cold War and after the fall of the Berlin Wall they sought eternal strife elsewhere. Is there any question why we are once again faced with a Russian nemesis as well as saddled with endless war against the concept of “terrorism”? This is what the Military Industrial Complex peddles: antagonism.

Ferguson, Mizzou... police react with weapons raised

Ferguson, Mizzou… police react with weapons raised

I am not brazen enough to say the Military Industrial Complex created monsters like ISIS. Wait… no, on second thought, I am. The Military Industrial Complex is America, Germany and Russia arming as many militants as they can make a buck off of with the unintentional result being the militarization of psychotics in lawless lands decapitating all westerners in their path. Thanks to the suggestive armament of everyone (which the marketing wizards of the Military Industrial Complex propagates) bad heroes, good villains and all the blood-thirsty bastards in between are armed to their heart’s content. The trickle down leftovers are then distributed to the local thugs like your cousin Eddy who flunked police academy twice before psychological test standards were lowered and he made his way onto the local SWAT team. Yay, Eddy! Damn the rest of us.

Escalation of violence always begets escalation of violence. Keep your hands up and your head down.

HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS, Morocco

Climbing through the Atlas Mountains

Climbing through the Atlas Mountains

Somewhere between the dusty path under our wheel and Marrakesh at our backs we had lost ten degrees of Fahrenheit. Poof! Gone were these degrees, evaporating into the ether as unheard of as a Neverman punchline. Despite the westward road’s climb in elevation, the increased proximity to the African sun actually brought relief from the valley’s all-too-intimate heat. Such change was a welcome one. Weeks ago I had given up on the insistence on cleanliness in vogue of late, surrendering my thrice daily baths and becoming familiar with the smell on my skin of days-old sweat (mostly mine, but not always). I didn’t entirely betray hygiene; I had, after all, packed my toothbrush. I kept my wounds covered because Ebola, I overcooked my pigeon because E-coli and I didn’t fraternize with camels because MERS; but I stank. I smelled of Fes tanneries, of Meknes butcheries, of spoilt vinegar thanks to the puddles of cat piss throughout Marrakesh. Up here, though, in the thinning air of the High Atlas… the wind charmed the nostril with the scent of untainted dirt.

I held my head out the window as a dog, the desert goggles strapped to my head keeping the filthy specks of Africa out of my eyes. To my left, my brother of a Berber-Arab mother drove the latter-century Mercedes truck.

“I have a joke. It is like riddle.” Rafiq began. In the back were the Australians and a California photo-journalist chick with mythical tattoos and a watch she wore on the inside of her wrist like a Mossad agent (thus I considered her highly-likely of Mossad). Rafiq went on with his riddle, “How do you get the camel into the refrigerator in three movements?” Rafiq drove on in the silence. Someone asked if there was a blender involved. Rafiq shook his head, no. “It is romantic joke.”

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe journey continued. Rafiq begged us to “think” about the joke. The answer was clear, he insisted. What wasn’t clear was our intent in the High Atlas Mountains. It began as something of a dare over smuggled gin – me auld mate of the Australian Consulate, Digger McKenzie, and I were desperate to unearth Qatari spies, especially if they had ties to the Muslim Brotherhood. While the MB presence in Morocco had decreased after the reactionary appeasement to the Arab Spring by King Hassan, there were rumors of the Muslim Brotherhood being rife within the Rif and the Atlas Mountain ranges. Where our quixotic caravan wandered was Bled el-Siba, the Berber tribal country translated as ‘the Lands of Dissidence’. These were the mountains of the one-eyed rogue, Bou Hamara (translated ‘the man with the she-ass’) and of the kidnapper of Americans* el Raisuni: both scoundrels a century dead (give or take a hanging). The High Atlas was bandit country, fertile ground for a brotherhood of Islamic radicals on the run.

*President Teddy Roosevelt once put a bounty on Raisuni if a kidnapped Greek-American businessman was not returned unharmed, “Perdacarus Alive or Raisuli Dead!” Gunboat Diplomacy was nothing if not direct.

Since World War II, the Muslim Brotherhood had been a power player in Egyptian culture and politics (note past tense had). With the coming of 2011’s Arab Spring, the Muslim Brotherhood seized power in Cairo with a little propaganda help from al-Jazeera Network and funding from the Qatari Royal Family. This would be the MB’s greatest (though brief) achievement and ultimately their undoing. The American Military of Egypt (armed by America, trained by America, etc. by America) held themselves a fashionable coup d’état and tossed the Muslim Brotherhood out of the country. Not only that, the most recent state of Egypt called treason on several al-Jazeera journalists for their part played in bringing the Muslim Brotherhood to power (read more in my Qatar expose –kangaroo courts convicted the journos, rather unfairly, even if al-Jazeera paychecks are signed by Qatari royals). Suddenly without a country, where would the Muslim Brotherhood run? To the war-torn streets of Damascus and Baghdad? Or here… the Land of Dissidence?

I should mention, my introduction to the Muslim Brotherhood was pre-Arab Spring thanks to the French Documentary OSS117: Cairo, Nest of Spies.

Vic in Bled el-Siba, the land of dissidence

Vic in Bled el-Siba, the land of dissidence

We left Rafiq’s grandfather’s Mercedes in the village of Imlil and hiked our way up the mountain path to the village of Armed. Beyond Armed were valleys of river rock, thousand-years dried, and mountain peaks separating us from the Sahara. Both Imlil and Armed were villages prone to Berber territorialism, yet hardly breeding grounds for Islamic jihad. We still chatted and made tea with each passing villager, leaving my bladder a traffic warden ushering the minty, sugary stuff in as easily out.

At last, during a shade break well-beyond Armed, Rafiq answered his own joke, “How do you get a camel into a refrigerator in three movements? Open the refrigerator door, push the camel inside, close the door. Inshallah.” Ahh. Ahha. Arabic humor, you can’t mistake it. These are the same dudes who invented algebra, probably another of their jokes. The (Israeli-)American photo-journo asked, “How is this a romantic joke?” Digger, the Aussie, deadpanned, “Guess it depends on how you push the camel.”

Many thousands of miles away, in the disputed territories of Iraq and Syria, American drones are bombing jihadists who call themselves the Islam State of Iraq and Syria, or more commonly ISIS. These terrorists are the threat English-speaking governments & media insist have sleeper cells occupying the London Underground, digging beneath the Mexican Border and hiding under your bed. ISIS is ushering forth their own eugenics campaign – decapitating heathens is Natural Selection in favor of ‘the Faithful’, at least this would be their rationale should they be well-read on Darwin and Evolution. While misguided support of ISIS exists in the streets of Morocco, there does not seem to be any sort of organized threat here. Yet…

“There is reasoning why ISIS is only in two countries: ISIS is agent of America.” said the Frenchman wearing nothing but his very brief underwear and a curly red beard with beaded knots. It was a profound allegation that had us on our heels, but then we were leaning back as soon as this 6’+ Neanderthal emerged from the woods scratching his briefs and speaking French. I might, at this juncture, mention Rafiq is as allergic to Frenchmen as I am to Mayonnaise – which are related allergies. If you ask Rafiq about the period of the French Protectorate of Morocco, his kindly eyes will darken and he would spit on the ground if he weren’t so damned polite, incensed to the point of claiming, “Nothing was protected, only occupied.” Therefore French suck. Not that Rafiq ever shied from the occasional Parisian girlfriend, but these are details outside the realm of geopolitic.

Mister Giggle's nephews, Stink and Blink, with a mule train in the distance

Mister Giggle’s nephews, Stink and Blink, with a mule train in the distance

We didn’t happen by the Neanderthal, Francois, by accident. Our troupe had been hiking along when we encountered a mule-train recognized by Rafiq (these are the hills he grew up in). He connected with these Berber muleteers who invited us in for tea. All so bloody-fucking British, you would think, but the hospitality is nothing new to country folk – here or anywhere. Digger, his Australian companions, the Cali-Israeli chick Ly, and I enjoyed our tea as Rafiq rapped Berber with his people. He returned to us with another joke, “Lion is king of the jungle and so he plans a party. He invites everyone to party he is having and every animal attends except for one. Who is the animal and why is he not attending?”

It was while we were sipping our tea and pondering the party snub when the Neanderthal, Francois, emerged from the woodwork in his skivvies and a dead rabbit in hand. We asked Francois the Frank the same questions we had asked the village people and all of the muleteers in between – mostly, had you seen any Islamic radicals? Francois the Frank scratched his red beard, looked longingly at Ly, scratched his groin through the skivvies using the spare fingers of his rabbit hand and then spoke heavily-accented English directly to Digger McKenzie, who he assumed was the man in charge.

“ISIS exists, but not here. ISIS only exists in Iraq and Syria. Iraq and Syria is where it exists because this is where America wish it exists. America does not like Syria regime, they are too friendly with Iran. America does not like Iraq regime, they are too friendly with China.”

Digger and Rafiq have tea with the muleteers

Digger and Rafiq have tea with the muleteers

Surprise, surprise… We had ourselves an educated Neanderthal. Apparently, that cyber café back in Armed came in handy. I couldn’t disagree with his premises. Syria’s dalliances with Iran didn’t make any friends in the Pentagon and it was true the previous Prime Minister of Iraq, al-Maliki, was cutting deals with China to give them oil once Iraqi oilfields were back in running order. All this and a free toaster, however, was hardly enough evidence to suggest the United States were behind the rampaging ISIS jihadists.

“Where come the money for ISIS? They have money, they have guns. Where this come? It come from Saudis, it come from Qataris, all by approval from Mother Liberty Miss America!” The Frenchman saluted as he ranted. The French had tendency towards douchebagginess. Digger McKenzie later diplomatically confirmed in his infinite wisdom: only the Dutch were worse.

Francois the Frank’s mumblings seemed absurd, yet absurdities worth considering… chaotic warfare in Syria and Iraq does benefit American aims to keep China and Russia off-balance. The be-headed Christians made an example of by ISIS were merely the sacrificed pawns of the Occidental War on the Orient. If you read behind the groin-scratching madness of the half-naked Neanderthal, you can start to see a conspiracy unfold. China is desperate for oil and the longer Iraq remains in chaos the longer China has to wait to quench its thirst. China is, ultimately, the power in the East (Orient) and the eventual Endgame opponent of America and the West (Occident).

Russia is even more susceptible to oil scarcity. Russia’s economy is dependent on a high oil price – the USSR even more so. In the 1980s, the United States managed to manipulate oil prices and the Soviet Union collapsed (#Reaganomics). To this day, the United States still manipulates the oil supply. The theory of “peak oil” is but myth meant to exaggerate supply & demand economics. There is no doubt plenty of oil exists and it is being held back by the United States. Canada wants a pipeline, fuck that. Iraq wants to rebuild their oil infrastructure and sell to the East, fuck that. The United States would rather keep oil underground than allow Russia or China to get their filthy mitts on the latest vintage.

As Russia encroaches on the Ukraine – just watch as surplus oil hits the market in a flood. The cost of oil will drop (though it will be hidden from the gas prices at your local petrol station) and this drop in price will drive Russia to economic ruin and/or nuclear agitation. Who drives this sudden surplus of oil? Us. US. US of A.

“If the Lion throws a party and every animal attends but one, who is it that does not attend and why?” Rafiq had asked back at the tents of the muleteers. After many guesses, the California girl surmised, “It is the camel.” Why did the camel not attend the party? “He is still in the fridge.” She was correct. The poor beast of burden was shivering his bones in the fridge as the lion party went on.

“Okay, an Aussie joke.” Digger interjected, not to be outdone. “Three Aussies enter the Medina and realize they forgot their watch. They ask a Moroccan sitting next to a bull what time it was. The Moroccan reaches out to the bull’s scrotum and weighs its bollocks with his hand before replying, ‘2:15’. Amazing, the Aussies think. The next day, they return with a watch and find the same man next to a bull. They ask him again what time it was. Again, the man cups the bull’s balls and estimates a time. The time matches with the Aussie’s watch. ‘How do you do that?’ the Aussies inquire. The man waves them forward… if you lift the balls of the bull up, behind them you can see the clock tower.”

Again – the answer is often clear, but blurred by our manic imagination.

It’s just a joke, but there is a pattern worth recognizing: Arabic tendency versus Western conviction. Westerners hear the same joke and expect different results. When the punchline comes, it is too late. Towers fall. I am no Arabist, but I read. I read about the English in Afghanistan in the 1840s and damn does it seem similar to the same tribal warfare we encounter now. I read about the Indian Mutiny of 1857 – incited when Muslim and Hindu troops under the employ of the English were led to belief their gun cartridges were greased by pig and cow fat. Western Diplomacy is short-sighted and long-barreled. Eastern-diplomacy is long-game and dagger-in-the-back. This shit is ongoing, eternal. After the atrocities of World War II, Western Powers bulldozed a path for permanent Israeli settlement in the Levant – the umpteenth Crusade, this time with a Hebrew King of Jerusalem instead of a leprous Frank. Has this crusade been any different than those of the last few millennia? Has the British cartographical dissections of Jordan and Iraq worked out? Ask the various tribes and ethnicities that make up the majority of those countries what they think of their chances at democracy.

Rafiq had a final joke, “How do you get an Elephant into the refrigerator in four movements?”

I was able to respond easily enough, “Open the door, remove the camel, push in the elephant and close the door.” Rafiq turned towards me and asked, innocently, if I had heard the joke before. I had not.