Genius From a Past Era

C.T.Robinson is gone, lost in a world that was too
slow to catch him and too small to contain him.
He was a prototype, a high speed, low drag mutant,
god's own one-off, a special writer who could only
come along at a special time.

And a special time it was. The early days of this
old internuthin', a wild high time when cowboys,
prospectors, robber-barons and gunslingers like
C.T. Robinson ran amok and it was Nobody's
Business. We were young then, and free, or at
least more free than we are now.

Young wild and crazy, driving fast with no
restraint, not wearing restraints, no helmets,
no registration, no insurance. We didn't stop
when the Man tried to pull us over, and we
didn't care what the consequences were gonna
be if and when they finally ran us down.

And run us down they did. Eventually even
the fastest full bore wild man runs into that
cul de sac, that speed trap, that ambush where
the Man was one step ahead of you and nothing
you could do was going to alter the outcome.

The great worm of history continues to turn
though, debts to society get paid, eventually,
parole boards relent, under constant pressure
to open critical bed space. The call is out: we ARE
getting the band back together, but C.T. won't
be there to answer the call.

It's too late, way past that epoch. That kind of
primitive brute is out of place in this foul age;
it's the twenty-First century now, and beasts
like C.T. Robinson have all been hunted down
and placed in climate controlled zoos, or just
killed outright. Rumor has it there are reproducing
colonies still holed up, pockets of decadence even
the Dept of Homlnd Security hasn't been able to
penetrate or ferret out. But these are just rumors,
and malicious ones at that. Don't hold your breath:
Osamo's cave will be easier to find.

So given all that I feel no shame in shamelessly
putting this tres aged gem out there. Chris will forgive
me. And if a stranger in dark glasses, trench coat and
false beard ever shows up, the royalty check will still
be there, waiting.

Subject: Fwd: Ancient skulls
From: C.T. Robinson

Paleoanthropology Division
Smithsonian Institute
207 Pennsylvania Avenue
Washington, DC 20078

Dear Sir:
Thank you for your latest submission to the Institute,
labeled "211-D, layer seven, next to the clothesline
post. Hominid skull." We have given this specimen a
careful and detailed examination, and regret to
inform you that we disagree with your theory that
it represents "conclusive proof of the presence of
Early Man in Charleston County two million years
ago." Rather, it appears that what you have found
is the head of a Barbie doll, of the variety one of
our staff, who has small children, believes to be
the "Malibu Barbie". It is evident that you have
given a great deal of thought to the analysis of this
specimen, and you may be quite certain that those
of us who are familiar with your prior
work in the field were loathe to come to contradiction
with your findings. However, we do feel that there
are a number of physical attributes of the specimen
which might have tipped you off to it's modern origin:

1. The material is molded plastic. Ancient hominid
remains are typically fossilized bone.

2. The cranial capacity of the specimen is
approximately 9 cubic centimeters, well below the
threshold of even the earliest identified proto-hominids.

3. The dentition pattern evident on the "skull" is
more consistent with the common domesticated dog
than it is with the "ravenous man-eating Pliocene
clams" you speculate roamed the wetlands during
that time. This latter finding is certainly one of the
most intriguing hypotheses you have submitted in
your history with this institution, but the evidence
seems to weigh rather heavily against it. Without
going into too much detail, let us say that:

A. The specimen looks like the head of a Barbie doll
that a dog has chewed on.
B. Clams don't have teeth.

It is with feelings tinged with melancholy that we
must deny your request to have the specimen carbon
dated. This is partially due to the heavy load our lab
must bear in it's normal operation, and partly due
to carbon dating's notorious inaccuracy in fossils of
recent geologic record. To the best of our knowledge,
no Barbie dolls were produced prior to 1956 AD, and
carbon dating is likely to produce wildly inaccurate
results. Sadly, we must also deny your request that
we approach the National Science Foundation's
Phylogeny Department with the concept of assigning
your specimen the scientific name "
Australopithecus spiff-arino." Speaking personally, I,
for one, fought tenaciously for the acceptance of
your proposed taxonomy, but was ultimately voted
down because the species name you selected was
hyphenated, and didn't really sound like it might
be Latin.

However, we gladly accept your generous donation
of this fascinating specimen to the museum. While
it is undoubtedly not a hominid fossil, it is, nonetheless,
yet another riveting example of the great body of
work you seem to accumulate here so effortlessly.
You should know that our Director has reserved a
special shelf in his own office for the display of the
specimens you have previously submitted to the
Institution, and the entire staff speculates daily
on what you will happen upon next in your
digs at the site you have discovered in your back
yard. We eagerly anticipate your trip to our
nation's capital that you proposed in your last
letter, and several of us are pressing the
Director to pay for it. We are particularly
interested in hearing you expand on your
theories surrounding the "trans-positating
fillifitation of ferrous ions in a structural matrix"
that makes the excellent juvenile Tyrannosaurus
rex femur you recently discovered take on the
deceptive appearance of a rusty 9-mm Sears
Craftsman automotive crescent wrench.

Yours in Science,
Harvey Rowe
Curator, Antiquities

VOUCHSAFE AND BEHOOVE WHOREMONGERS,
C.T. Robinson

The World's Leading Experts on the Nursing Madonna...
Read Phat City News:
http://phatcitynews.blogspot.com/

Harvey Keitel Spews Anson Williams from Nipples

editor's note: And now, one from the historic bowels of Fat City News. This was written some time in the mid 1990s. We think it perhaps one of the greatest pop-culture dream sequences ever written - one among many from the anonymous Chicago-area shoe salesman for obese women's feet we know only as:

A Candy-Colored Clown They Call the Sandman

I awoke this morning hanging upside-down, suspended precariously from my ankles by a mass of stretching tendons attached to the severed legs of a completely naked, howling, Harvey Keitel, whose hands were bolted to my ceiling. managed to wriggle one leg free, whereupon I swung myself upward just in time to see a geyser of grayish, molasses-like sludge burst forth from both of his nipples, nearly drowning me in the process. I fell backward with enough force to rip my ankle free from the entangling cartilage, and I hit the floor with a thud. The cement-like spewage continued to rain down and form a large, lumpy puddle just beside my bed. Suddenly, the mass molded itself upward, began to colorize, and gelled into a sweater-clad Anson Williams from 'Happy Days'. Thin, bony claws then erupted from both of his ears, and began to tear his eyes out.

"I am not a Potsy, I am a free man!" he declared.

He then leapt out of my bedroom window screaming something about syndication rights and Velveeta Cheese. Soon after, the bolts fastening Mr. Keitel to the ceiling gave way, and he crashed to the floor. This awakened my cat, Pancreas, who padded inquisitively into the room, holding forceps and medical scissors in her mouth. I went downstairs to fix breakfast while Pancreas attemted to re-circumcise Keitel. Judging from the screams, it was not successful.

As I poured the Frosted Flakes into a bowl, I was disappointed to notice that the cereal was actually composed of knee scabs from all of the participants of the 1966 Boston Marathon who fell to the ground. I turned on the radio to the local all-news station which boasted "Traffic and weather together every 15 seconds."

"Today, a 30 percent chance of Spaghettios with sliced franks. Downpours may be heavy at times. Be sure to wear plenty of polyurethane. Tonight dark, with intermittent periods of complete oxygen deprivation. Tomorrow, high levels of ultra-violet radiation, with a 40 percent chance of planet-wide mass extinction."

After breakfast, I strolled outside and saw Tony Bennett lying in my driveway, clad in flannel grunge apparel, exercising with a Thighmaster, while Suzanne Somers towered above him with a riding crop, shouting the lyrics from 'Ace of Spades' by Motorhead. As I fished in my pocket for my car keys, I felt a sharp sting of pain, and quickly pulled my hand out to discover a miniature Julie Andrews with her teeth clamped firmly on my index finger. I shook her off, and she went flying to the ground, whereupon Ms. Somers scooped up her up and popped her into her mouth. When she tried to belch thirty seconds later, a fast-forward version of the entire 'Sound of Music' soundtrack erupted from her throat.

When I attempted to start my car a few minutes later, I heard a high- pitched screaming coming from under the hood. I got out of the car and began to check the engine and noticed Joey Bishop's head lodged in the fan belt. When I struggled to dislodge it, he began frothing at the mouth and barking at me. I left the hood up, went back into the car, and attempted to start it again. I ignored the screaming, and when the engine finally turned over, I got out to close the hood and found a note taped to the windshield fluid reservoir.

"Went out for cigarettes. Unable to resurrect career after brief stint as Johnny Carson's guest host. Will return in 1998 to pitch cherry- flavored laxatives on television."

As I drove off, I saw John Travolta's testicles hanging from my rear- view mirror. I pulled into the MacDonald's drive-thru, and ordered the new McBladder, which basically consisted of bovine intestinal matter wrapped in a cinnamon-sprinkled puff-pastry shell. When I eased up to the window, I was startled to see Harvey Keitel sitting behind the register in a wheelchair. He smiled at me menacingly, opened his mouth, and a 7-foot reptilian green tongue uncoiled, and quickly wrapped around my neck. Before losing consciousness, I heard him say, "Live long and prosper. And don't drink Ovaltine when Jupiter aligns with Mars."

Nancy Pelosi sucks off goats.

Nancy Pelosi knows better yet has never once stood up to Bush/Cheney in any meaningful way. She has rubber stamped his war funding, his torture, rendition, corruption, energy policy, criminality... the list doesn't end. Everything bad Bush did Nancy helped.

This shit wrapped with skin was elected to stop that mutherfucker Bush. She has been his enabler. Nancy "Neo-con in drag"turd sucker pelosi is beneath contempt. Thanks to her and other just like her we have had no opposition. It's fake. It's a sham. They are letting
these bastards take apart this country economically, socially, morally, financially... and they stand by with their fists up their own asses. Pelosi is a disgusting filth. Bush is just a moron. He knows not what he does. You can't truly hate on Bush cause he's toofuckingstupid.
Cheney the same way, save that with him it's not stupidity, he is an evil little man.

What's Pelosi's excuse? She ain't got one. She should know better. There is a damned good reason why Congress has a lower approval rating than Bush or Cheney.

Pelosi is the reason. Words fail me as I search for some means to express my contempt
for this piece of foul human garbage. Example: she just came to Detroit to campaign for Kwame Kilpatrick's corrupt stupid evil dumbshit mother. You know, the whore who spawned Kwame Kilpatrick, the putrid slime-ball "mayor" of Detroit, who not even Detroit can still pretend to be anything but a criminal, a liar, a cheat and a thug. Good work Nancy. Brilliant timing you dog shit bitch.

I can only hope she loses her Congressional seat and goes home and bakes cookies and washes dishes and never ever thinks about meddling in politics ever again.

She is one of the great all-time LOSERS of history. She was given a job; she failed in spectacular fashion. When Pelosi and her husband have sex he is always on top. I know this for a fact 'cause Pelosi Can Only FUCK UP.

Yes, I was going to give politics a rest, but then PELOSI inflicted herself on me, invading my consciousness as I tried to lay here and simply wallow in my pain and painmed [see the pics of my mangled broken arm] I was willing to ignore it; she had to rub my nose in it.

Phat City Music News - The Handsome Family make sounds that coat your eardrums with pleasure sauce

And now, a break from the political dialogue that seems to be sweeping the land like an army barracks broom on a Sunday morning.

The Handsome Family are fantastic songwriters. The Handsome Family are other-wordly lyricists of the dark and downtrodden. They write the kinds of songs that force you to listen to their recordings, over and over and over and over, reveling in their dark genius, until finally, a Handsome Family cd has defined an entire season of your life.

Yes, music that strong.

One of my favorite Handsome Family Songs is a diddy called Arlene. The first time I listened to it, I felt like worms were crawling under my skin once I realized it was the mad laments of a man who kidnapped a waitress named Arlene, an act in which his crazed mind justified due to the intensity of his love, and took her down to the bottom of a cave, where he marries her before murdering her, all the while, never stopping loving her.

Arlene, I'm sorry for what I've done
I wasn't looking for love till I
saw Your red hair in the sun
What we had could never be love
That was easy to see
But when I saw you at Red's pouring coffee
Something took a hold of me
Arlene, you wouldn't even let me hold your hand
When I stopped you in the road you just screamed and ran
That night I decided I was gonna marry you
My knife went through your screen door
And I went away with you
You were singing "Please let me go"
All the way down to Miller's cave
When I picked a stick up off the ground
You cried "I ain't ready for my grave!"
Oh, Arlene, in the dark your hair's just as red
And this long, dark cave will always be our wedding bed.

The Handsome Family will probably not be playing anywhere near you soon, but with the help of modern technology, you can listen to the duo of Brett and Rennie Sparks do what they do best - weave sparse gotchic-country music landscapes dripping in the sorrow of classic Nashville Country, primitive gospel sorrow ballads, and clever lyrics. Wife Rennie writes the lyrics and husband Brett delivers them in a down-home barritone that shakes you to the root of your cerebral cortex, that is, if you've got one. He sounds like Edgar Allen Poe has been unleashed as Johnny Cash for the new millenium.

That the Handsome Family are not a national treasure playing gigs at Carnegie Hall is a national embarrassment. They offer the kind of darkly ironic blues through astute observation and willingness to just plain wail out at the madness of this world seldom seen in music of today, or yore for that matter.

The Handsome Family make brilliant art and music, and you need to know about them. That is why I wrote this.

Links to the Handsome Family on the web:

The Handsome Family Home Page

The Handsome Family on Myspace

got courage?

Vincent Bugliosi does.

That cunt George Bush and his entire family need to go directly to jail. Do not pass go.

McCain's only hope is a secret-sex tape

By D. Sparks
Thoughts from the cable television American presidential election news cycle. Disclaimer: I only get MSNBC until DishTV figures out that they haven't turned my service off yet. I told them to just get all of this shit out of my life. But since it's now free, I'll do you the service of laying down some cranial squirts.

John McCain is headed for electoral Armageddon. Bank on it.

McCain's only hope for electoral victory this year is a for a secret-sex tape to surface featuring he and his wife Cindy locked up in a cum-flinging, whips and chains interracial threesome with the aging Napoleon syndrome victim from Arizona and Tyra Banks. Cindy would have Tyra and Johnny boy tied up, calling all the shots with the evil jurisprudence of a German leather queen calmly awaiting the arrival of Rob Halford to the party - ordering John to finger and lick Tyra's hot snatch and ghetto booty with the veracity of a Jack Russell Terrier. And if by chance McCain's Cialis isn't working, Vince Neil could always stand in as a stunt cock (although with the possibilities of four-hour erections this is doubtful).

Let's be honest, a secret-sex tape is an utter necessity if McCain has any hope of garnering any vote whatsoever beyond the chronically cathetered.

Bumbling between photo-ops of packaged cheese and riding shotgun with the perhaps the most heinous of the foul Bush clan, of whom the elder Bush's face seems to be melting with rot due to age - gotta' love how mother nature always has the last laugh - watching the uncomfortable, yellow teethed ass-sasquatch McCain is like watching an elderly fundamentalist woman chilling with Tupac Shakur's crew while they share blunts and whip their mandingo meat sticks out readying grandma' for a ghetto gangbang - uncomfortable to say the least.

Mike Dukakis is probably chuckling somewhere now watching a presidential candidate who is actually worse at the show business game than he. And make no bones about it, American politics is all about the show business. At least the part about getting elected to American office that is.

Obama is entire galaxys ahead of McCain in the optical manipulation and charisma game. Watching the two is like watching a Mercedez-Benz slide past a broken down Chevrolet, stuck on the railroad tracks, readying for oblivion.

Why we are paying any attention to this charade on television where bumbling media dolts aplenty postulate persistently on who won the media game is beyond me. Obama was anointed President of the world this week. He is so goddamn smooth, at one point in his speech in Berlin, his tongue turned into actual red velvet cake.

I can't believe I'm actually even writing about this election since it's such a damn joke as to be laughable like an episode of America's funniest video stuck on the clip of a toddler cracking his dad in the balls with a wiffle ball. It's painful, wrenching humor foisted upon the American public. It's as if someone in the real string pulling department (you know, the people whose name nobody knows and who actually run the country - the low-profile money makers) all got together and planned a national practical joke.

Dark Behind the Scenes Character No. 1: "So who are we going to run against Obama to make this appear as if it is some kind of Democracy?"

Dark Behind the Scenes Character No. 2 (breaking into laughter): "John Fucking McCain!"

Dark Behind the Scenes Crowd Gathered for Overlord Meeting: "ROFL! ROFL!"

Dark Behind the Scenes Character No. 1: "Then John McCain it is!"

Anyone who doesn't realize that this game is already way over deserves to lick McCain's fingers when he's done shooting that video.

Really people. We have serious issues to discuss.

Some Simple Irish Logic

I didn't write this, it was forwarded to me in an email. But I had to share it.

Thoughts from across the pond:
> An email from Ireland to their brethren in the States...a point to
> ponder despite your political affiliation:
>
> We, in Ireland, can't figure out why people are even bothering to hold
> an election in the United States .
>
> On one side, you have a pants wearing lawyer, married to a lawyer who
> cannot keep his pants on, who just lost a long and heated primary
> against a lawyer who goes to the wrong church who is married to yet
> another lawyer who doesn't even like the country her husband wants to
> run.
>
> Now...On the other side, you have a nice old war hero whose name starts
> with the appropriate Mc terminology married to a good looking younger
> woman who owns a beer distributorship.
>
> What in Lord's name are you lads thinking over there in the colonies??

And now, we bring you the inagural edition of the Phat City Streamcast

Download the mp3.

The War Against Terror [TWAT] is fake

Synthetic war on terror, made in the USA by Dick Cheney and friends. Read ‘em and weep. Osamo is a pig’s head on a dress dummy in the basement of the Vice PRezerdential Palace. FAKE! Made up! Strategy of Tension! Reichstag Fire! duh! It’s hiding in plain sight right in freaking front of you. What’s wrong, can’t say “False-Flag State Terror”? Look, Marinus van der Lubbe, it’s nothing but an excuse to grow the Police State and turn your Constitution into toilet paper.

Youjustdon’tfuckingGetIT, do you?

You bin duped. You bought a pig in a poke.

They lied to you. You ate it up. Why do I bother?

Yer a True Believer and you already know everything.

I quit; no more casting pearls before Swine. buh-bye, I’m out. I’m not going away mad; I’m just going away. Wallow in yer crapulence; enjoy.

A Libertarian Conservative at Phat City? Hell Yes. Take your best shot.

Here at Phat City there can be diverse opinions and views on various subjects from war and politics to social issues and such. Each of our staff will expose the truth, as they perceive it. When I watch the news I often switch back and forth between Fox News and CNN. My reasoning is that somewhere between the two some crumbs of truth exist. Here at Phat City we believe in providing our individual ideals, opinions, and the truth as we see it, and define it, in unadulterated, and often brutally candid commentary.

The staff calls it as they see it. But I want the Blogger world to know right off the bat that at the new Phat City News as with the original legendary Fat City News we have many voices. We don’t always agree, but we are friends and professionals and respect each other’s views. Whether we agree or not, we relish in the creative humor and personal take on a subject, no matter how atrocious or wicked. We don’t take it personally but we hope you will. We love hate mail.

Now there are plenty of blogs out there that are left leaning, tree humping, liberal bastions of PC foolishness who actually take PETA seriously. They feel that the government is there to provide a band aid filled with cash for every problem for every citizen, imprisoned felon, and illegal trespassing alien. The powerful personal injury lawyer special interests led by the obscenely hypocritical presidential wannabe John Edwards, have over the last 30 years, erased from the American culture the concept of personal responsibility. Look my upcoming blog on those dirty bastards.

Now to be fairly unbalanced, there are also the right wing evangelical religious fascists who scream about smaller government while trying to legislate individual morals. These freaks will be on my radar as well. They provide just as much fodder for blog writing as the PETA crowd and Al Gore’s fabricated polar bear footage. The truth of which was inconveniently exposed. By the way, is there going to be an asterisk next to his Nobel Prize?

I fall somewhere to the right of the center, but left of the bible thumpers. I am a Libertarian. Basically a man without a real party. I am the devoted supporter for the concept of the true capitalist ideals, which enabled, encouraged, and motivated our forefathers to build this great nation. I hate whiners, most lawyers, and pretentious yuppie soccer moms. I think multiculturalism is equivalent to drinking $500 single malt Scotch on the rocks with water. It is drinking tequila with salt and a lemon. Fuck that to death! If you need training wheels then stay away from the Jose Cuervo. Your out of your league, stick with the wine coolers and Coors Light.

I believe Alex Baldwin and Babs should be deported to Iraq along with Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins. But I think Tim Robbins movie Jacobs Ladder was very cool. I believe Rosie O’Donnell and Sandra Bernhart are just plain freaks. Their fame is in itself evidence of how derailed we have become.

I believe in our war efforts. I despise the idea that America will follow in the footsteps of spineless European countries who lick the asses of radical extremists exploiting the hard fought freedoms to close down a 200 year old Pub in London because they built a Mosque across the street.

All these countries have suffered multiple terrorist attacks by cowardly swine dogs since 9/11 while America has not suffered a single attack and thwarted dozens for every one that is made public. Our brave soldiers come back with limbs lost, but their biggest concern is to get it fixed so they can get back to their unit.

The second biggest enemy of our troops aside from the subhuman swine are those who endorse retreat, embrace defeat, and surrender without having ever met a soldier, sent a care package to them, or an email. John Murtha, Pelosi, Ried, should be tried for treason. Barrack Hussien Obama, an Obamination, whose freakish popularity shows the American Idol mentality of this country. This is not a fucking popularity contest folks. We do not need booze swilling cowards like Ted Kennedy. We need steel spine bastards who are willing to do what is needed to win wars like George Patton.

We cannot cave to a Borg mentality of being assimilated in the name of political correctness. Fuck that to death. Multiculturalism is just another word for dilution. Dilution of America and all it stands for. We should not be bending over for the immigrant, they should be showing us the respect to assimilate to our culture. I welcome those who want to become Americans. I loathe those who come here to set up their own little fiefdoms based on their third world beliefs. We do not condone killing our daughters for not agreeing to an arranged marriage or refusal to wear a potato sack over their bodies. Once again…fuck that to death.

We watch as the radical elements Muslin swine dogs saw…saw off the heads of journalists. It is not a beheading, that sounds so swift and quick. Watch the video, it was slow sawing decapitation. But we complain about Waterboarding? Naked Frat pranks, while the bodies of our bravest are dragged through the streets. If the Muslims in this country wish to show us that Islam is a religion of peace, do not give us excuses and lawsuits exploiting our constitution. Give us the names and addresses of those Muslims who speak and teach the words of Allah as a call to world domination. Who project the ideal that Islam is a convert or kill mission. Don’t give us lip service. We invented that shit. Give us the bad guys. Do this and maybe you will gain our support as a nation who is founded on Everybody’s freedom to worship whatever they wish. Circle your wagons and hire publicity-seeking lawyers will only further the stereotype that you claim to wish to dispel.

But these dogs have lawyered up. It is an effective recipe for defeat. They are using our freedoms and constitution against us.

I plan to vote for McCain and I am a member of Phat City News…We are not always fair, too bad. But as long as I am here there will be an alternative view.

We are diverse, we do this for free, and were just getting started. Join in, we have a pile of shit to toss at this huge fan were building. We are ready to spoil your beliefs and soil your briefs by shattering your reality blinders.

The next time someone ends your encounter with “Peace” reply with “Courage.”

And I’m just getting started.

TS Penn

Kurtz' take on The Fear

Another take on The Fear.
Told Ya So: Afghanistan: it's a horrible place to fight. Just ask the British: they lost three wars there, at the height of their Empire. Our involvement is destined to be a quagmire. It is a proven fact of military art and science, born out by history time and again that if you allow an insurgency a safe haven you cannot defeat it.

When we attacked Afghanistan we apparently did so with the intent to lose: we have allowed safe havens for the Taliban in the Northwest Frontier provinces of Pakistan. These are autonomous Tribal territories where the Pakistani Army does not go. Tribal Law prevails. Vendetta and Hospitality to Strangers is the Way of these people; they have lived like this for thousands of years. Everyone is armed; hashish and opium are for sale openly in stalls next to AK-47s and .303 Enfield rifles. Guns are made from scrap metal using primitive forges and hand drills. Young kids painstakingly file metal blanks into shape to make guns. The Taliban rules here.

Iraq: you break it, you own it. We went into Iraq with the intent of creating chaos and a Wild West where huge profits could be made in an atmosphere of lawlessness. Cowboys and Robber Barons flourish in such a place, and that's exactly what Dick Cheney and his criminal Neo-con cronies wanted and got.

The Fear: What is it, How do you get it, how is it different from plain and simple fear. Sure, it's a paranoia, but it goes beyond that. It's not just simple paranoia, it's Existential Terror.

That whole greasy ball of angst that roils around inside of you late at night when you sweat and shake and you can't sleep and you can't get up and the entire existential horror of our existence here is plain to you. When the awful realization that we're all rats in a trap comes home to you again, in a stronger way than ever before.

The nightmare of the huge alien shape blotting out the sun. The gods have come to reclaim their chattel: that will be a relief compared to what we've got now: the greedheads in charge. The accumulation of wealth and power at the top, buttressed with technology, especially the technology of brainwashing and hypno-conditioning.

The Fear is just like when you keep waking up next to a dead hooker and you don't know why. For the life of you you just can't remember how you got there. The hooker doesn't even look familiar. She's just there in the bed next to you, dead. You don't remember picking her up, or anything. You can't remember what you did the night before. But there she is. Just like George W. Bush on the TV.

The War is against US, by "our" elite. There is no other war. The rest of the world is supine beneath the boot. Rage and fear and hopelessness. Shock and Awe practiced against us, and we didn't even know the war on us had started. Or we thought it was about something else, by otherp eople.

Times are tough. Prices continue to rise. Even the cost of buying a politician or an election are higher than ever. Mass hypnosis is here. You can fool all of the people, all of the time, so long as they are in a hypnotic trance. We're all just the slave species of a cruel god.

Shock Doctrine meets John Boyd meets Donny Rumpfelch, who tricks the American people into supporting the war with False Flag State Sponsored terrorism, then moves too fast and leaves the opposition befuddled and powerless.

That's right, I said it: hypnosis. "Everybody Loves Hypnotoad". There is a common claim that no one can be hypnotized against their will. Bullshit. Either that or we got a whole lotta willingly manipulated rubes making up our population.

New research, developed by board-certified hypnotist Gerald Kein, claims that everybody is equally hypnotizable and that "people accept hypnosis in direct relationship to the amount of fear they have". Eh!? Fear! We're still talkin' about The Fear here.

Successful hypnosis is attained by the removal of inhibitory fear. With fear removed, most individuals can be deeply hypnotized in 5-10 seconds. Licensed mental health professionals are generally not trained in these techniques and use the old PR hypnotic induction developed in the 1940s (Kein, 1985).

So fear is protection against hypnosis. The Fear, that paranoid state, is a heightened state of consciousness. The darting eyes, the taching heartbeat, the sweats, the rapid, jerky movements, the rapid fire speech -- all just survival mechanisms in a age of mass hypnosis and Mind Kontrol Programming.

"Cameras recorded an eye-blink rate which indicated that the housewife was, according to Packard, usually in a hypnotic state while shopping. This led manufacturers to produce new brands of laundry detergent in competition with their own, existing brands, where the primary differences were in the product names, colors and shapes of designs on the packages, which were designed to appeal to women at different times of their menstrual cycles. The effects of this research can be noted today by visiting the laundry detergent section of any American supermarket."

There it is: the typical American housewife of the 1950s went about her shopping in a hypnotic daze. Her menstrual cycle dictated to her which brand of detergent to buy. It's obviously by this time also been applied to politics as well.

They might just as well have stated: "This led manufacturers to produce new brands of politicians in competition with their existing politicians, where the primary differences were in the names, genders, colors and shapes of the politicians."

The only positive thing is the fact that all this is about to be swept away by it's own obsolescence and corruption. The world runs a balance of payments deficit with itself that is rapidly becoming unsupportable. The parasite kills it's host. So it's just natural, the rot sets in, the tree falls, it's nutrients are used for the next generation. After all we're all of us made up of reused parts of old dinosaurs.

"Mullins New History of the Jews": what a hate-filled piece of crap. It's probably all true, but Come On Man, ya gotta keep yer heart Chakra open. Yes, the US is Israel's Big Dumb Giant. Yes, US foreign policy is largely run from Tel Aviv, or at least from the US offices of AIPAC. Yes, the 2% of US population that is Jewish has power all out of proportion to their numbers. Yes, no American President since 1950 got to sit in that office without first swearing allegience to AIPAC. Yes they run Hollywood. But by god man, do you know how poor our humor would be if it hadn't been for the Borscht Belt? It would be about as dismal as our music would be without the contributions of the black race. We'd all be listening to god damned polkas, probably played on bagpipes. Face it, the white man does not now what he's doing with music. And the Jews have incredibly enriched our society. Besides, the Jews who manipulate our foreign policy aren't even religious Jews, they are secular. Sure the Palestinians don't get a fair shake. Sure there will never be peace in the middle east. Hey, I never said we weren't fucked; I said don't worry and keep your heart chakra open.

The Fear makes people mean. It causes the wars, it makes people greedy. The Billionaire has The Fear; it makes him keep trying to increase his wealth. The poor man has The Fear, it drives him to all manner of things just to survive.

The Fear...

“They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

— Benjamin Franklin

The Fear.

It’s what a young soldier feels deep in his or her gut when the sun sets in Afghanistan, when night patrol starts and the shadows become alive with menace.

It’s what a young soldier feels deep in his or her gut when the sun rises and shines on another village, failing to illuminate who are friends and who are enemies, where the explosive boobytraps are hidden, and who hid them. The soldier knows that he or she is an unwelcome guest in this country, and that one man's liberation is another man's invasion.

It’s what most soldiers feel deep inside when they hear that their tour has been extended yet again, when they hear that there is no timeline for withdrawal, when they hear presidential candidate John McCain promise that the war will go on indefinitely under his watch.

It’s what the parents of soldiers feel when they hear reports of casualties in the Middle East, wondering if they’ll see their children shipped home in flag-draped caskets. The irony won’t matter then. Their child was killed, and the government that sent them to die...based on nothing but lies...is filled with greedy swine concerned only with the next election and the next lobbyist handjob for political favor. Calling dead children “heroes” is only a cynical way to sugarcoat the awful truth...the little girl who danced by standing on Daddy’s feet is still dead, the little boy who kept asking big brother to push him higher on the swing set has long since crashed to earth.

So the war continues. The Fear spreads.

Yet the war has already been won.

The winners? Everyone who profits from the fear. The Republicans who conjure the images of that day in September to further their agendas. The Democrats who are just as complicit by playing along, or by doing nothing, or by getting themselves elected under the promise of “change,” a promise that they never intended to keep.

The contractors who send bored mall cops to the Middle East repackaged as rental soldiers, and the soulless fucks that own and run these companies.

The angry little bastards too mean and stupid to become cops who now work for the TSA, lording their government-sanctioned power and authority over anyone who dares to board a plane in the United States…like wheelchair-bound amputees who are practically begging to be strip-searched.

All the way down to rat bastard greedheads like the management at Yankee Stadium, confiscating bottles of sunscreen at the gate, then offering 1-ounce bottles of SPF 15 sunscreen for $5 a pop once inside. “Security, ma’am...you’ll need to surrender that SPF 30. And sorry about the melanoma. Enjoy the game.” Yeah, they gave up this ploy after some bad press. You won’t need to look hard to find another rat bastard greedhead to take their place.

The terrorists won.

Not on September 11, 2001. No, the terrorists won on October 26, 2001, when George Bush signed the USA Patriot Act into law.

We are the terrorists. We terrorize ourselves. We allow those in command to perpetuate the terror.

And The Fear continues unchecked.

“Sell not virtue to purchase wealth, nor Liberty to purchase power.”

— Benjamin Franklin

Those with the power strive to keep the power. The ramp-up began with Ronald Reagan, a dullard Hollywood hack who found his calling in politics, and his true calling in planting the seeds of fear, fertilizing them with propaganda.

Bush the First had the connections, but he lacked the charisma to sell the fear. Bill Clinton was nothing but comic relief, a distraction, a useful fool, a Kennedy wannabe with a hard cock and a need to be popular.

Then comes Bush the Second.

The past eight years have been an exercise in constant fear-mongering, the old “Red Menace” reborn for these higher-tech times. Were he alive today, Joe McCarthy would be consumed by envy, his evil allies Richard Nixon and Roy Cohn chuckling in approval for the efforts of the GOP in general and the Bush Administration in particular.

If you believe in a hell, you have to believe that McCarthy, Nixon and Cohn are there, and they’ve prepared a special place for Dick “Halliburton” Cheney, making sure they have space to accommodate his enormous brass balls. You need those when you tell the United States Congress to ram a subpoena straight up their collected clueless asses.

There’s a space for John Ashcroft, in spite of (or perhaps because of) his empty-headed piety. Spirituality is a concept of faith; religion is a concept of man, a political construct designed to put a few of the favored in control over the rest of the masses. You get into trouble when you confuse the two, and you’re damned when you interchange the two.

Alberto “I don’t recall” Gonzales has a space, if only for the scores of under-reviewed convictions and court cases while serving as then-Governor Bush’s general counsel. Only one death sentence case was overturned during his tenure with Gov. Bush in a term when Texas executed more prisoners than any other state. Don’t ask him, however, since I’m sure he won’t remember. As General Counsel to President Bush, then as Attorney General, this fuckstain helped the administration shit all over the Constitution and Bill of Rights.

Michael Mukasey? He’s there. Bush has an incredible talent for populating the United States Attorney General’s office with toadies, and Mukasey is no exception. Mukasey spent two decades practicing law in New York City, and he made his bones working for the batshit-crazy Rudy Giuliani, serving for four years as an Assistant United States Attorney in the federal prosecutor’s office. Perhaps that was the training he needed to become point-man for Bush and the “we don’t torture” crew on Capitol Hill.

Donald Rumsfeld, a man of whom Richard Nixon said “He’s a ruthless little bastard. You can be sure of that.” Yeah, he’s got two spaces...one for his black little soul and one for his enormous ego. But the true man is revealed in his actions and words. Such as this from The Daily Telegraph (UK) on March 11, 2007, which revealed this instruction he gave to his underlings: “Keep elevating the threat...Talk about Somalia, the Philippines etc. Make the American people realise (sic) they are surrounded in the world by violent extremists.” And the classless fuck was busted in 2004 for using a signing machine instead of personally signing more than 1,000 condolence letters to the families of soldiers killed in action in Iraq and Afghanistan. The man is too goddamn corrupt to even pretend to be sincere.

And George W. Bush. The man who refers to the Constitution as “...that goddamn piece of paper,” albeit a goddamn piece of paper he has sworn to uphold and protect. No more needs to be said about him, or any of his diseased crew, because we allowed it. We gave up to them, and we deserve neither liberty nor safety.

And The Fear continues unchecked.

“There never was a good war or a bad peace.”

— Benjamin Franklin

We let it happen. We fucking encouraged it when we allowed The Fear to take hold and strip away bloody chunks of our humanity. We have proven time and time again that we learn nothing from history. We have lost every war of the past half century...Korea was hardly a victory, while Vietnam was a disaster. The Gulf War was a misguided military exercise, in the words of the Bard, “...a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

And all those domestic “wars”...the War on Poverty, the War on Drugs, the War on Illiteracy, and on and on...each one a failure, a collection of giant sinkholes to suck away our money, our dignity, our pride, and finally, our intelligence.

Whether it was from neglect, or stupidity, or inaction, hubris has ensured that we got what we deserved. Fuck us each and every one. If we are standing at the pinnacle of human achievement, we and our children should be sterilized now just to keep our inferior DNA from propagating.

Because as long as we allow injustice, as long as we are willing to give away our freedom, as long as we simply let things be, then we deserve every bad thing that happens as a consequence.

“In these sentiments, Sir, I agree to this Constitution, with all its faults, — if they are such; because I think a general Government necessary for us, and there is no form of government but what may be a blessing to the people, if well administered; and I believe, farther, that this is likely to be well administered for a course of years, and can only end in despotism, as other forms have done before it, when the people shall become so corrupted as to need despotic government, being incapable of any other.”

— Benjamin Franklin

Speech to the Constitutional Convention, June 28, 1787

Indeed, Mr. Franklin.

Indeed.

And The Fear continues unchecked…

More later,

uncle dave

As I quietly watch the whales die

by D. Sparks
As I quietly watch the whales die, I get a morbid satisfaction in the fact that behind my disgust for these putrid creatures, that the words of Benjamin Franklin ring true today in the modern American suburban landscape.

"He that's secure is not safe."

"I conceive that the great part of the miseries of mankind are brought upon them by false estimates they have made of the value of things."

"If you desire many things, many things will seem few. "

Truer words could not be spoken today.

As I sit here typing at the keyboard of this gas station computer, working the graveyard shift, doling out gasoline, high-fructose corn syrup by the gallon, energy drinks, cigarettes, lottery tickets, black and milds, blunt wraps and Steele Reserve by the case to a cast of ever changing characters playing a bit role in the history of the early 21st century, something is almost eternally unnerving about the typical character of the typical customer in this oh-so-typical gas station in this oh-so-typical blacktop nirvanna in the heart of it all - Southern, Ohio.

Collectively, we have truly turned into a shit rubble pile of incable humanity. I am not happy to report this truism, but it must be said, in no uncertain terms, over, and over and over until we collectively understand and correct this beast, or die like whales caught in a high tide of Biggie Sized expectations and driven by a million fantasies of human acceptance - the most essential cog in the American beast - the need to be accepted by others, no matter what the cost to our fortune, belongings, community, and ultimately, personal dignity.

American consumerism, in it's many forms of Freudian advertorial inspiration and foundation, has truly turned the typical American incapable of any conversation or consideration of normality outside of the drive-everywhere happy-go-lucky Jetsonesque world of highways, parking lots, Jesus Christ mania, bad Clear Channel Radio spitting out Nickleback and Fiddy Cent through the speakers of forever meandering through Burger King parking lots nationwide while Monday Night football offers up another episode of big bad ass knockin' your faggot ass dick in the dirt.

It is truly the kind of surreal cultural nightmare - one where Giant sculptures of Christ erupt from the landscape while the prison industrial complex looks down upon the orgyesque sea of never ending discount malls and adult bookstores in ironic pleasure - that only a Salvador Dali rendering could do justice.

One can never quite decide whether to blame the evil genious of Madison Avenue, and its giant network of ad men across the country, pitching line after line of copious bullsmack about the newest improved, better smelling, fresher, tastier, smoother, wrinkle-reducing, gut-busting, refreshing knick-knack of the moment, or the do-do bird like obedient nature of the majority of American homo-sapiens who pass through the doors of this addiction gallery like so many strung-out crackheads seeking solace and pleasure behind the boarded up windows of another abandoned home. Abandoned homes which litter our landscape like curls on used bikini wax.

I would tend to blame the evil genius, and the willingness, promulgated at nearly every turn in this American existance, on the psychological malaise facing us at this time like a cancerous anus, oozing with the pus from so many boils created by the breakdown of nearly all immunities, real and imagined.

For it is he in this life with greater abilities of reason and know how who are charged with the task of taking care of those lesser. There is no greater crime in my eyes than one who uses their intelligence, power and influence for advantage over others of lesser intellectual means and/or abilities. Yet, as I look out upon this vast expanse of blacktop desolation and Nokia swamps, and what does one see - an entire society derived and based upon the willingness and utter necessity to do just that.

Yes, we're one giant Hobbesian clusterfuck stuck together by commonality of mayonaise, syrup and automobiles: the most evil and dibilitating of all of the modern technologies that we have accepted into our life as invited pimp. It's the one that has enabled our get anywhere anytime at any cost to get anything collective way of life.

Yes, Virginia, there may be a Santa Claus, but there is no dignity in a nation of obese T-shirt wearing wunderplumps. Only a perpetual state of infantilized existance upon which no true sense of personal freedom could ever be achieved, let alone considered within' the realm of daily normality.

For you see Virginia, yours is a nation that became beasts really due to no real fault of their own. It was, and continues to be, presented in so many forms, as reality - something that the average citizen would never consider even questioning. After all, history shows us example after example of societies where within' the everyday normality of the average citizen, behaviors ranging from heroic to barbaric are able to be elicited by puppet-masters holding the strings. The behavior of collective populations has been able to be manipulated by those who wanted to use it to their advantage time, after time throughout history. And our time is no different.

We're often really living in nothing more than a historical continum of practiced behaviors, rituals and traditions of powerful economic interests subjegating populations through brute force or psychological manipulation and outright brainwash, programming. The kind of programming that leads to a disdain for the overtly intellectual, and a feverishly inante desire for $1 cheeseburgers, and for the supposed expectation that this never ending merry-go-round of gout inducing comfort will never end.

But every party comes to and end. Anyone who has paid scant attention to our crumbling American economic house of cards can tell you that. America is heading into a shit-pit, and fast, and doesn't have a population cable of growing a tomato bush without instructions from Rachel Ray, let alone function as a free and free-thinking individual.

So therefore, in these times when our sea of "look at me" citizenry, stuck in a cycle of perpetual juvenalia continues unabated into the grave where corpses are buried under mounds of processed meat and cheese, I can only do but one thing:

Sit back, grin, and watch the whales die.

Phuck You

OK, moron America, now that you let banking, medicine, energy, weapons, foreign policy, and government go into private for profit hands, how the fuck you think you ever gonna get your country back?

You're too god damned dumb to be free. You are terrified of being free. Anything not forbidden is compulsory. There's the world You wanna live in. It'll be so simple. Just Do As Your Told, don't get outta line, and everything will be Just Fine. And we'll come up with a brand new enemy for you every week so you can go to the big rallies and curse the scapegoat. You make me sick you revolting swine.

I love this country. I love the principles the Founding Fathers embodied in the Constitution. But you know nothing about that. You watch every day as those principles are violated, trampled, spit/shit on. And if you're not cheering you are standing dumbly by. A look of utter incomprehension on your moronic face. You deserve what you get. Go back to Wal-Mart and buy some more poisonous Chinese crap to throw in a landfill.

Doofus.

Wal Mart is a cancer

Boycott Wal-Mart. I have never been to a Wal-Mart and I never will.

I wish I wrote this following, but it's from:

http://www.intellectualpoison.com/WalMartisPureEvil.html

and it's ezactly correct:

Wal-Mart is everything that is bad in our country right now.

Outsourcing of jobs to China.

Low quality dangerous goods.

Putting mom and pop stores out of business.

Eviscerating middle class family stores?

Evil.

Workers rights violations, shoddy pay, dangerous products made for the poor, ironically made by the poor of the third world.

Evil.

If you shop at Wal-Mart then you are funding China's human rights abuses.

If you shop at Wal-Mart then you are condoning the homogenization of America into schlock retail crap.

If you shop at Wal-Mart then YOU are part of the problem.

Don't do it.

Efraim Diveroli is a dumb-assed punk

Efraim Diveroli is a dumb-assed punk who ended up holding the bag. At age 22 he had a $300 million dollar contract to be THE supplier of ammo to Afghan army and police. Only he was the sole employee of his "company". And he lost the contract for supplying junk ammo out of rotting stockpiles of Chinese-made garbage that sat in Albania for over 50 years. It's illegal to supply Chinese made ammo, good or bad. So how does a party-boy moron punk get such a contract? Easy. Have an uncle who is a major sleaze-bag arms merchant, that's how. An uncle who gets preferential contracting treatment from the US government 'cause he's an "underprivileged minority." Which? Hassidic Jew, that's what minority. Do a little web search. It's an interesting fucking story about the way things work in this fucked up country.

Mark Twain on Journalism

Mark Twain on Journalism:

"The heaven-born mission of journalism is to disseminate truth; to eradicate error; to educate, refine, and elevate the tone of public morals and manners, and make all men more gentle, more virtuous, more charitable, and in all ways better, and holier, and happier."

John Swinton (1829-1901), managing editor of the New York Times during the American Civil War. The following quote is disputed since it's been improperly attributed. Swinton did in fact exist and he did make the following statement.


"America is not a free country. The economic condition of the workers here are precisely the same as they are in Europe. A wage-slave is a slave everywhere, without any regard to the country he may happen to have been born in or made the living in.
"There is no such thing, at this date of the world's history, in America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it.

"There is not one of you who dares to write your honest opinions, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinion out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be so foolish as to write honest opinions would be out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my paper, before 24 hours my occupation would be gone.

"The business of the journalists is to destroy the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it, and what folly is this toasting an independent press?

"We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes. We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes."

(Source: Labor's Untold Story, by Richard O. Boyer and Herbert M. Morais, published by United Electrical, Radio & Machine Workers of America, NY, 1955/1979.)

This is what we here at the Phat City News are all about correcting. Nobody buys us off. We tell it like we see it. You can't shut us up and we won't go away. We speak Truth to Power.

Were Getting The Band Back Together Man!

When the old crew from Fat City News contacted me, I have to admit my palms starting sweating a bit. Did I owe them money? How, and more importantly why, did they track me down? After all we are talking about some potentially treacherous and dangerous individuals here. Talented? Hell yes and basically good people. But we all shared a common short fuse and a penchant for seeking out stories or creating situations where we would end up pushing and daring some fool with a match. The folks at FCN love pyrotechnics and deafening loud bangs followed by the musical sound of shattered glass as it hits the concrete sidewalks where we taught our children to ride a bike. We’ve never physically hurt anybody that any member has acknowledged. We were, and always will be professionals. That alone was cause for my concern. The FCN crew came from all over theses United States and from parts of Canada. (Those are classified for security reasons.) While we have known each other for well over a decade, many of us have never met face to face. There have been a few encounters where a few members met as the Internet and the phone systems were never considered secure. But we have never met all together in one place at one time. Due to that whole short fuse we all share… in retrospect it was probably wise.

I was relieved somewhat when I found out that the reason for the contact was to put a new Fact City News together to be called Phat City News. Apparently some swine cyber squatter had grabbed our old FCN domain and wanted a ransom. We don’t pay ransoms, we don’t negotiate, we adapt.

My first thought was of the Blues Brothers. “Were getting the band back together man!” Well assuming you have seen the movie, you know the mayhem those 7 words brought on to the brothers and all those who agreed to come along. 7- like the seven dirty words you can’t say on TV. 7- like in craps where it can make you a winner or take it all depending on the situation. The 7 original founders of FCN. Seagram’s 7.

I made a deal with them. If they could get at least a quorum of the original crew to sign up, I would be all in. There is no way on earth that if it was gonna happen, that I’d be left out on this second trip into weirdness. While I am still suffering the posttraumatic effects of the first excursion I have always been an advocate of the “Hair of the Dog” healing ideology.

I’m waiting for the others to lumber in, hopefully they will. JB, Rev Carey, and the rest of those who are so talented in the writings of the savage and prefer to look from the inside out rather then just observe. But for now, fears must be put to the side. I must see this through if for no other reason then the fear of missing something really spectacular and explosive. Yeah… Let’s get the band back together man!

TS Penn

There's a War on

The War Against Terror [TWAT] is in full swing, and we need your support. Hey, it's a rude war, it needs a rude acronym. After all, Saddam had STDs [Strategic Tools of Destruction] and was spreading them around the middle-east. You can do your part, so line, sign up, and re-enlist today. Shoes For Industry! Higher Trans- National Oil Company Profits!

We're Ba-ack! It's the New Rotten Millennium and we're Up for it! The Phat City News krew is on the spot, on the street and has the Scoop! We've got the News you don't wanna lose, the Inside views, we bad~ that's right, I said it. You ain't seen nuthin' yet. We're rounding up the entire infamous team to perform a hysterectomy on yer head. An we don't use anesthesia. That would be cheating. So get a stick to bite on, hold on tight, and get ready.

frothing forth steaming tubs of toxic intelligencia

Back from the grave, the crew of Fat City News, the world's lone repository of outlaw journalism, is here to stay.

But these are brutal times, and FCN is a force that is needed again in a brutal world.