Our message is too diffuse. I know, I know, we can yammer on and on about For the Children™ and For the Planet™ and every possible change ring of the socialist armamentarium, and it sounds good. It sounds really good. But isn't it just a little bit second hand?
Every one of you, my dear comrades, knows that I, a made prog, and dare I say it the madest of made progs, have infinite care and concern for The Little People™. Especially the Little People™ who squirm with pleasure when I call them that. Wonder why they never get upset when I only throw them the smallest of bones, if that? Ah well if they were smart, they wouldn't be The Little People.
But really, do we have to pretend to this concern? My idol Joe Biden, who has gotten only better as the hair plugs started growing through his thin, cracked skull, has said that we can't understand what they've done for us. The last time I heard that was when Hannibal Lecter was cutting pieces out of man's brain, frying them and feeding them to the man. And he was grateful too.
But this misdirection. I hate it. I hated being in the closet and I know lots about closets. I came out as the Gay Commissar Theocritus, and so I now come out as Commissar Theocritus, Czar of SPITE. SPITE is Socialist Progressive International Totalitarian Elitists.
Now I'm happy. I no longer have to pretend I care. Because I don't, unless it's for my comfort, and of course for the comfort of my dear comrades. The comrades who are still among the quick, until they no longer give me enough pelf.What? You ever thought that I did care? Oh, I care. Ask the Elephant's Child how I care.
I don't have to pretend I care. I'm George Soros. I'm Keith Olbermann. I'm Janeane Garofalo. I merely say the nastiest thing that I can, which makes me look good, and I'm just fine, because I'm a made prog, and because I'm the founder of SPITE. I don't exist by myself, for I'm resentment looking for power. That's why I'm SPITEful.
You can SPITE anyone. Someone wants you to make a car payment? Why should you? You're a prog. SPITE him.
And what's all this bit about mortgage repayments? SPITE them too.
A personal loan? SPITE! A credit card? SPITE! SPITE everything that you can.Honor? It is to laugh. What's honor to a Made Prog? Hell, you know that I love you more than life itself and still you'd better lock your door if you're fool enough to accept an invitation to the Rancho de Rio Grande.
In California they talk about having a "Me" day where you get your body rubbed at a spa. With SPITE I have a "Me" life where I get to suck the life out of everyone who doesn't use his life the way that I find most agreeable. To me. That's why I'm a made, and SPITEful prog. I know more about everyone else's life than he does and if you want to graduate from prog kindergarden you'll learn that lesson well.
And there is nothing that you cannot SPITE. Because there is no evidence that SPITE works means that there is no reason that SPITE cannot work, which means that SPITE does work. Being SPITEful, I'm entitled to whatever I want.
SPITE means never having to say you're wrong. Because you just make your accusers citizens of the Holiday Inn Expresski in Novosibirsk.
I invite all Comrades to tell me how they will use SPITE. And after we all get very good at being as dreadful as possible, with only the good of others™ at heart, of course, maybe, in our wildest dreams, we can, and I'm blushing here, move up to the final embodiment of grasping, soul-killing, back-stabbing, self-justifying, self-entitled, lying, thieving proggery, the The Democrat Party.
Forgive me, comrades, my knees are weak. I've spent my 55 years lying and cheating and nowhere could I possibly come up with, "Pass it and you'll see what's in it." I weep tears of joy for this SPITEful old BHWhore.
On that note I'll go to bed and dream of Prince Charming, who will of course come not on a white charger but in a Trabant needing a ring job.
Oh. Sorry. I'm thinking of the proles. One can never be too solicitous to their fiddling comforts. You have to pretend to care.
I'll be here on my 600-thread-count sheets. Stolen of course.
SPITE is the smartest man who ever lived, Barack Obama, calling his subjects irrational idiots for fretting about the fact his genius ideas have not yet fixed everything simply because reality is just too racist to admit IT is wrong.
SPITE is the reincarnation of Edward R. Murrow, Keith Olberman, foaming at the mouth and flicking spittle in the air while raving about how all the raving idiots who disagree with him have a tendency to foam at the mouth and flick spittle in the air.
SPITE is Nancy Pelosi who promised to "drain the swamp" but failed to mention the toxic waste dump she planned to install in its place.
SPITE is serial tax-raiser John Kerry avoiding taxes on his yacht which was built in a foreign country to protect American jobs.
SPITE is the Democrats' reason for everything they undertake: "SHUT UP!!!", they explained.
SPITE is hypocrisy in action and how dare you notice it.
SPITE.... It's still just for elitists evermore.
But thanks to you, no more.
Now I know that those people are only paying me one of the highest compliments that can be lavished upon a Made Prog. I am, in fact, full of Socialist Progressive International Totalitarian Elitism; and of course everything I do, I do purely out of Socialist Progressive International Totalitarian Elitism.
But I must insist that it's only because I care.
Now that's a man who got things done, or his ideas did. He's the one who let Chairman Mao murder all those people while not washing his privates lest it rob him of his virility, and who could argue with that? Especially since Anita Dunn, the White House Communications Director, I think she was, said that she admired him because he got things done.
When a SPITEful Made Prog like Anita loves it, it's right.
Back to the rehabilitation of Karl Mark. Marx scares people. Mark doesn't. For fifty years we'll be teaching Markism in the school books. Columbia will teach Shakespeare from a Markist, not Marxist, feminist perspective. [ They really do this shit, according to WFBJr.]
Then after it's Karl Mark, we have Karl Mother. Then Mother Karl. Then Mother Teresa.
I knew you would. If you don't, report to Jiffy-Lobo.
I took courage from the films of the ACORN people helping some undercover amateur newsmen ask them how to launder money from child prostitution. Was that it? Or was it something worse? I hope. I love bad things but then I'm a Made Prog.
Now the woman that I saw wasn't in the slightest bit embarrassed. She just up and told how to launder the money from filming the rape of children. Oh no, that wasn't rape. It was for money, so that's all right. Dear Nanski told me that, and she ought to know everything there is about fucking people over.
Why, I thought, should I be embarrassed to take my rightful place in the Prog Pantheon? I'm Commissar Theocritus, by Lenin, and I have a right to do what I want.
And then I thought, who would give me the most courage to tease out this elusive, but liberating, chain of thought?
Commissarka Pinkie, that's who! My favorite two-handed drinker, Putinka-soaked tosspot, dear Pinkie. She of the graceful shovel.
Is it true that the only time that you don't have to close one eye to keep from seeing double is when you're whacking people with your shovel?
How does one become initiated as an international "MAN OF SPITE "™ or "FEMINIST OF SPITE" ™ or "TRANSGENDERED SEX WORKER OF SPITE" ™ et,al.
Doe's it involve cannibalism, a few oppressive kapitalist bank jobs, being locked in a room watching When Hairy met Nanski reruns for a 100+ hours, finish getting a Houngan and/or Mambo voodoo license, a promise written in fresh rethuglikkkan blood to continue distributing Bush Lied - People Died stickers until your death, shaking down some panhandlers, showings one's breasts and/or man boobs at a Code Pink rally, getting your name mentioned as a prog among progs by the Daily
El Rancho Survivor ™ for a weekend and leaving with a $1 left?
According to movie made about me; after hand-to-hand fight between James Bond and Dr. NOski (the –ski was dropped for movie cause racist bastard producer felt it was too ethnic), I was pushed into the atomic reactor's cooling vat, in which I boiled to death. Hogwash! I escape while no one was looking …after all if I am here how could I be dead? Hey, I bribed the cameraman …HA-HA-HA …I have last laugh; I did this just to SPITE everyone.
You know a little bird tell me Theocritus is worth a trillion dollars and since I cannot disprove this therefore it must be so! Perhaps we work on real estate deal. I propose we build soviet style guberment subsidized housing projects nationwide for proles, we work out price fixing scam and bribe necessary officials, collect guaranteed rents and, launder money to Swiss accounts or to Grand Caymans (NOski’s secret hideout ..don’t tell anyone, OK?). We screw all parties concerned out of SPITE, then we sit down and consume enormous quantity of Vodka till we drunk like pigs. While we both in drunken stupor, we plot to swindle each other out of ill gotten gains or come up with next better scam, whichever comes first, totally out of SPITE, with only the good of others™ at heart, of course. Contemptible? You betchya but then again depends on who you ask, but not for us, as we do this for SPITE. By Lenin; they should be thanking us! Now as you have previously pointed out Theocritus; because there is no evidence that this plan works means that there is no reason that it cannot work, which means that SPITE does work. I think our new venture should be called ENGULF and DEVOUR EnterprisesTM, LLC. A wholly owned subsidiary of SPITE. Our slogan: “Our Toilets are Nicer than Most Prole’s Houses” …apologies to Mel Brooks …I take that back, made Proles apologize to no one.
Theocritus it is interesting that Dr. NOski is also been SPITEful for 55 years too, which just illustrates that age and treachery always overcomes youth and skill …SPITE wins again!!
Sound good? Tell me what you think. My leg tingles awaiting your reply.
Comrade Dr. NOski
Now it makes sense to me, Krasnodar.
Dear Leader does not call the government asking for money a tax.....no, no, no.......it is a " service fee ". And its all because he is aware that keyboard "x" theft is running rampant. It has become a plague upon society; of course, he does not wish upon himself any negative publicity. Brothers of socialism, we know he is not responsible for any bad developments under his enlightened administration, so I suggest we take a trip to Texas and search for the "x" keys at George Bush's ranch. They must be there somewhere....after all, he is, in fact, the source of all that is evil.
Hail Obama, keeper of the " Enemy's List ". We are safe under his direction.
I said HAIL him ! Weren't you listening _______________________________________________________________________
Comrade Theocritus, Lord of the Mark : I just had a booster lobo, so I'm good ! But I did receive coupons in the mail..... I can send you some if you know anyone who can use them.......it's a two fer'.
Shirley you realize you are entering into a different dimension! The toes not to be trampled are Socialist Progressive International Terrorists [SPIT]. The Fraulein has made reference to them only in passing, so I said nothing. The fact is we really don't want to piss these guys off. Consequences could be fatal.They move by night and strike at will. If you know where will is, tell him to move on.
Commissar Theocritus, have you ever considered a DC working vacation?
There are many opportunities to advance your speciality.
Who's " Shirley " ?
" But doctor, Shirley you don't mean it ! "
" Yes, stewardess, I most certainly do ".......... And stop calling me Shirley.
I know. When I was just a proglet at Rice I had a math professor who was much esteemed. But he made the mistake of reading heretics like Rand and Hayek. This of course would not do. For his own good, and I tell you this with a warble in my throat, for his own good I myself took him down to the Jiffy-Lobo in Sharpstown Mall.
It worked a treat. When his brain was as smooth as a cue ball, he came back as a sponsor the the Young Democrats Club.
That's where I'm going. Because the very idea of Nanski and Hairy is more than mere flesh and blood, and even superprog flesh and blood, can take.
Alas I do not have a trillion dollars, Good Doctor. I am but a poor simple sharecropping farmer, and I only have 200 impaling poles on the south six forty of the Rancho de Rio Grande. And it's so hard to find proles for them. I mean, it's supply and demand.
You thought that proles were hard to come by when our Many Titted Empress was the Big Sow of the Woods, (or is that the Big Sow of Fort Marcy Park?) but no, not compared to Nanski. Not a bit of it. Since Nanski has clawed her velociraptor way onto the public stage, her requirements for proles have been such that I just can't afford them.
This is the worst for self-entitled progs since, oh, Countess Elizabeth Bathory. And when Liza was walled up in her castle for killing the girls, the killing stopped. But not with Nanski.
I had that bitch walled up in my MTE-proofed room at the Rancho. Concrete walls, rebar, with an 8" sump. Many banks are envious of that vault. Well, if you'd seen what our MTE can do when she's drunk on the blood of virgin Rethuglican girls.
And Nanski was in there. The room is shielded with goddamned MU METAL. Magnetism shield. It's anechoically dead. And still, the girls for miles around started dropping dead, in circles of increasing radius.
Goddamn it, what's an honest prog like me to do? No proles to impale. That old bat in my MTE vault.
And at the end of the day I sit down to a bowl of cold borscht. With rancid sour cream. In
I wonder why I even try.
I don't know what to do with such richness. I am afraid that it will turn my head from the beet row that I am hoeing. So I think that I'll have to take advantage of Krasnodar's generous two-for-one Jiffy-Lobo.
You know, I've been thinking. What if I just had that pesky left brain removed? That's where all the logic is, isn't it?
Screw that; I'm a made prog.
Posted by Thomas Woods on October 21, 2010 06:59 PM
Lew Rockwell Blog
Whenever the commissars of approved opinion go into their demonization mode — Lew spoke of how they destroy people’s careers without bothering to address what the victims actually said; and there are other forms of commissar-like behavior — we should do our own version of the Rickroll, except linking to this: