Ten seconds into the second decade; already weve got
crumbling beach front property, defective crotch rockets,
bishops dropping their pants. Every foul-up from the first
ten years, plus fresh howlers, strainers and boiling bare-
assed blunders just itching to appear.
Last time it was the squeaky clean trophy golfer screwing
around on his wife and kids – whole goddamned world
in a five alarm uproar. How many cocktail waitresses did
this steaming schwartza shag? Who were his Vegas hookers,
Florida sluts, London tarts? Because we dont just want what,
we demand names and numbers - the full frontal tabloid.
Twenty seconds into the second decade; life continues sliding
downhill, boobseoisie still rolling back the Enlightenment.
Trashomon – multiple stories of the same event - all wrong.
The Age of Disinformation. Massive Media with the jitters.
Windbags Speaking Pablum to Power.
Before that, the airplanes into the skyscraper thing, then
the non-existent WMDs, followed by Shock & Awe, Cheney,
and finally Wall Street hitting the iceberg. More startled gasps
than a braindead infomercial audience.
Followed of course by zero, nothing, no substantive anything;
just more mindless outbursts, deliberate misdirection, knee-
jerk patriotic grand-standing, but no insight higher than dumb
downed fishwrap analysis: theyre jealous of Disneyland; they
hate our freedom; it was only one rotten apple; the system
worked; an honest mistake.
Thirty seconds, and the hype keeps piling higher and deeper.
Whatever nobody dies, retires or gets crowned Lounge Lizard
of the Year, hes automatically awesome, a terrific human
being, an enormous talent, a terrible loss for humanity, an
absolute lock for sainthood. Already Pope Hare Trigger cant
wait to canonize Pius XII, arguably the biggest boohoo ever
to wear a pointed hat and splash around fistfuls of holy water.
Forty seconds into the second, and our demented no-fly global
terrorist police state is still accelerating on steroids. Satellite
snooping, improvised explosives, watch lists, burkhas, eaves-
dropping, Hamas, surgical strikes – the last man standing
versus an erratic wildswinging light-weight determined to put
the Champ on his back.
Fifty seconds into the second decade of the Third Millennium,
already everybodys looking for a way out. Christian Apocalypse
End Game True Believers pray their asses off begging for the
Second Coming. New Age Whole Food Juicers chant, meditate,
creatively imagine a happy healthy Gaia planet. Buddhists
head for the Void. Muslims head for Mecca. Mormons motor to
Salt Lake City.
One minute into the second, Rational Scientific Nonbelieving
Critical Thinkers condemn logical thoughts untimely collapse.
Incredulous Postmodern Sceptics diss metanarratives, replace
Liberalism, Marx, Capitalism with antifoundational Velveeta
irony. Chomsky pushes post-CNN syndicalist anarchy.
Hitchens joins the Anglican Church. Lou Dobbs hires an illegal
alien to cut the grass.
And so it goes. Meanwhile the economic recovery continues on
course, though sales of existing homes have slackened, irate
demonstrators demand love, sanity, joy to the world, and four
more Marines were blown up during Operation Donuthole
Tokyo, Thursday, 01/07/10