The Dying Of The Light

I could never sit around and make up
stories like that. Hector was crazy!

We were all surprised when Hector came back from his creative writing class with a benefactor. Hector's just not the type for a donor we thought, he'd never gone in for that before. Wait, let's back up a minute. Who knew Hector ever wanted to go to a creative writing class?? Anyways, it started a long, strange trip that, like most always in the streets, ended in lots of heartbreak and pain.

Maybe I need to start with a little background. Panhandlers, the homeless, the down-and-out all meet up in different spots and at some point it gets territorial. We all like to hang out in our comfort zones, whether you be a stockbroker or aluminum can collector (Hey Eddie!). We're all looking for a home (I've seen many a soul with a house but no home). Home for Hector was our little motley crew up on Akard street. There's no rule to it, you just become a "face" to be part of a group. Heck, it doesn't even mean anyone even likes you.

Jesse was the panhandler of our group - and, yeah, he was the one pretty much nobody liked. He had that fast talk black man's rap that's always trying to work an angle. Dude, give it a rest sometime! I've seen Jesse go up to people on pay phones trying to work a bit on them. He starts off with shit like, "Hey, man, where you from?" And sure enough Jesse would turn out to be from there too or know somebody who is! After establishing so much in common then hey, could you give a neighbor a buck? No one who wandered through our territory was safe from his bullshit.

The ultimate wet dream for someone like Jesse is finding himself a "benefactor", a regular donor. Hector was direct opposite of that. You come at him with a dollar in your hand and he'd head the other way. We all got our inner hurts we don't talk about, I guess. But Hector was different in other ways too. He had a different sense of self than the rest of us. There's all kinds of smart in the world. I've seen lawyers that can't tie their shoes and shoeshine guys that can read your soul but not the morning paper. Hector could read a law book and your mind.

We wondered - but never asked - who is this guy?

Who are those guys?

There were theories about his past to the point the rest of us even made a game outta trying to piece together his story, making up all sorts of identities for him. It was harmless but we dare not let him hear us. Whatever it was Hector had locked up inside him was locked up good! So really, none of us should have been surprised at his going to a creative writing class. But we were all just wondering how the heck he was going to do writing and still not talk about himself. Still rivers run deep, they says.

We'd all given a million bucks to find out what happened in that writing class. All Hector said was it was run by some professor from Oklahoma with a giant pot belly whose real interest was good food and good wine. But he never said nothin' about the Rich Lady! She just starts showing up in this fancy black Escalade asking for Hector. Talk about our eyes and ears perking up!

Anytime she shows up Hector gets up mid-sentence like a kid at Christmas and hops in. He says they ain't doing anything - and I believe him - but he's got this smile on his face like he just won two lotteries. He says they don't go anywhere much, just sitting in the car talking. Hector says she's hurting but he won't say why. All I know is we got a glimpse of her with the window rolled down and that's one uptown lady! Even Jesse know enough not approach someone like that. She was sharp.

We were all happy as hell for him. Hector had this knack for alienating folks. It was a natural gift he had without even trying. Mary called it a "defense mechanism". Maybe so but sometimes you never knew. I heard this fancy guy talking up his life to Hector about his great job, great wife, great kids, great everything. I figured Hector would come back on what a shit the guy was but he's just laughing his ass off when he walks over to me. He says it's funny the guy wanting to impress him. "Like I'm anybody."

But the Rich Lady had the key to him, boy howdy! He was cloud nine motherfucker! He was getting spending cash from her too and maybe that's part of what ate him up. For "No-money Hector" to be taking cash that's as much as he put his heart out for anybody. I know for him, that was trusting her with more than his life. He kept the money hid but we all knew about it. Jesse asked him once where he got the cash and Hector snaps with this red face telling him he got it fucking Jesse's mother.

Good fortune never happens on the streets. Or if it does, it doesn't last. Only real good fortune is getting out of this nightmare hell that stabs you in the belly like a double edged knife that never comes out. Ever spent a whole day outside walking around holding your side like you be dying? Then I hear them fuckers on radio talking about us and I want to stick a knife in them! And sure enough Hector gets this agitation in him, he can't sleep, he can't stand still, he can't get out of his skin.

Was it love or the streets?

I never did nothing much with Hector but I always felt a bond with him. He wasn't like a regular street person. He'd go off and see these foreign films and come back talking stuff about them and nobody understood a fucking word he was saying. What the fuck is "underlying message and structure"? But for whatever reason I was his sounding board. I always liked that but I was afraid he was gonna expect something from me I just didn't have. His brain run too fast for me.

"There's this fear running through me 24/7. It's all in my body like I got my finger stuck in a light socket and I can't pull out. I got the shakes like Drunk Willie and I got no answers on what to do. There's nothing sustainable in my life. I can't own up..."

I'm looking at him like never before, how he's gone all grey before his time, that's he's just as much in the clutches of street life like all the rest of us, smarts or no smarts.

"I want off this fucking roller coaster! I'm so fucking angry and this anger, man, it's like a bull in a china shop wrecking my heart like a crazy pinball. I can't live like this! The streets are poison."

I'm waiting for him to get at what's really bugging him, to talk about mystery lady. I don't dare bring her up myself because he guards her like a vicious wolf. But then, I sees he needs my help, an excuse to talk.

"The Rich Lady got something to do with this?" My heart pounds like a hammer.

He looks me in the eyes like never before, like a drowning man too far from shore. Then I see what I'll never forget, like a flash of the heavens in his eyes. I know what they's sharing now in that truck: their secret dreams. He wasn't Hector no more, he was the angel Gabrielle I'd read about as a kid. No wonder he guarded her like a junk yard dog! But there was a short circuit in the works.

"She's just...I don't know...too much, everything perfect. I can't see what she sees in me. Driving all the way down here, giving me cash, showing me her heart. I just can't see how...it's not the money...it's her." Hector's got this pain drawn on his face. "How can I honor her in return? Just because I pretend I'm fine to get by, I know I have no future. Jesus, I wish I knew how to make a life." Then he crumples up on himself.

I crossed my arms telling him nobody can help him with that. Hector appreciates my honesty.

"It's so hard believing she wants to spend time with me. She's not my woman, man. When she stops hurting, guys are going to be crawling all over her. What am I going to do? Ask her to keep coming down here the rest of her life? Shit man, I would if I got the chance, I can't trust me. No way I can say No to her. Is it even real? I even do deliberately goofy stuff all the time just to see how she'll react."

"You mean you're testing her! Even after she drives all the way down here just for you?"

Hector yanks up his head like a scolded child not expecting it. He's got all the looks on his face like anyone that finds out he's been a dick, afraid, ashamed and shocked. Yeah, pal, you been lying to yourself! He gets this real lost look like Conan when Thulsa Doom is trying to talk Conan out of killing him.

"There's a reason I'm on the street, man." He says this like it explains everything, but the look doesn't leave.

Getting up in the morning scares the shit out of me

Then the Rich Lady stops coming. Hector is like he's had ten pet dogs run over. He wakes up during the night, grinding his teeth like a man waiting on a rope around his neck. Back of his neck, his whole body covered in sweat. He says he's committed the Crime Of The Century. I ask, "You mean the Rich Lady?" "No, my whole fucking life." All he ever says on the Rich lady is, "I did her a favor and let her get on with her life."

I could almost see the knife in him when he says that.

After months of crying and dying Hector goes blank. Stupid shit he used to make fun of he doesn't give a shit about anymore. He said his one wish in life is for his "dick to fall off." He smashes his now uncalled cell phone to pieces in this fantastic fit of rage. He kept ranting over and over, "God likes people dead." Finally, Hector says he's "tired of the sound of my own voice" and his eyes go dark and lifeless.

We all had the feeling the Rich Lady was his last chance getting off the street. If Hector had gotten out, that might of meant a chance for all of us. A chance that love really is enough. I don't know what Hector was hiding from out on the streets but he couldn't accept the helping hand. Makes no sense, I know. We'd all kill for that helping hand! But I've seen it all before, like another invisible hand pulling you back down.

But you ask me, Hector never told Rich Lady why he was on the streets neither and that's what really kept them apart. I think he thought he had to pretend he was something he wasn't. Too many secrets in this world.

Chop that boat!

-------------------------------------------------------

That was two years ago, before Hector dropped out of sight. I still catch a glance of him every once a while, like today, me wondering how life is for him. But he's like a damn feral cat - can't get near him! He saw me once and he gets this fearful look in his eyes like him a student in trouble and I'm the angry teacher. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Only other time I saw him he was arguing with some dude in a suit and he's bitching, "Don't give me that shit!" or maybe that's just what I thought I heard. Then he chunks a beer bottle and when it crashes this lady starts screaming for him to come clean up the glass. Hector runs away.

But the biggest change I saw was him sipping bottles from brown paper bags. Hector never drank before. His heart has gone out to sea and the streets done swallowed him up. Hector can't see himself no more, memories of light passed fade in the dark. No way I know how he even can even make it another day. Does he remember his name?

What scare me most was later on when I saw the TV couple hours later. People in the streets yelling and throwing shit but the look on their faces - just like Hector! "What's going on?" I think to myself. Is it maybe just my imagination? Is the light going out everywhere? I can't stand the thought!

I grabbed my head and walked away before anyone sees me. I have these really horrible dreams now where people are chasing me for what I know and I don't even know what it is I know! What I do know is how people treat you when they think you don't count and nobody's looking. It's NOT the same way they act in church. If the light is dying then we sure are in trouble. Because I already know how people do in the dark.

Twilight Of The Gods

"Prayer won't help! Dinner time for me!"

The two Roman guards roared with the cheering crowd watching the hapless Christians run from the ravenous lions. They pointed and mocked at the horror and agony of the gaping wounds of exposed flesh as the human bodies lurched in their death throes, struggling for life even after any chance for it had passed. All too soon, the fun was over and the chewed bodies lay limp and limbless on the ground. Slaves were forced to clean up.

"Hey, you ever feel bad helping send them Christians to death like that?" asked one guard of the other.

"Nah. I figure if their God doesn't care, why should we?"

"Haha! Good point!"

"We're on our own here, this is all there is. Survival of the meanest. It's like Senator Crassius says: it's the man willing to poison the well that rules the village."

"Yes, yes. Weakness is death."

"Do you know what the Christians say? They say anyone who lives by the sword dies by the sword."

"Hahahaha! Yes, I've heard that! Too funny! Someone needs to tell them anyone who doesn't live by the sword dies by the sword!"

"Or by the lion!" This brought a hardy laugh.

In the Senate continued the comedy of whores. Clever speeches were made of Rome, the glory of Rome, the future of Rome, the sanctity of Rome and all that Rome should do. Then the orgies started. The role model of the great Caesar was voraciously followed. For Caesar was every woman's man and every man's woman. Games were made of buttfucking the inferior servants. The more they bemoaned their plight the more their masters guffawed in delight.

"Squeal, boy! Not a soul in the universe can save you. Zeus himself is powerless! Give your ass to me! It's the price you must pay if you want to stay alive, loser. Hahahaha!"

No matter the eventual fate of the world, the servants' fucking was in the now - and this moment could not be escaped. From birth to death without hope of freedom. Just work, anguish, humiliation and despair. What was the point of anything? Nobody knew.

Two dignitaries pulled out their pricks long enough to converse.

"Did you hear of the accident at the building of the new temple yesterday? Three walls collapsed, killing 38 slaves."

"Ah, well. Plenty more where they came from."

"Oh, not that! The walls! All that work lost. It makes it look like we don't know what we're doing."

"With the riches our wars have brought in the sheep will always be too bribed to care."

"So true! And any ethical ones we can slaughter in the arena!" This brought a hardy laugh.

Average Romans citizens living hand to mouth were nevertheless thrilled to be a part of the great Roman empire. Living in the most powerful country in the world didn't fill their bellies but did fill their pride. The great monuments and buildings, the conquered people paraded through the streets, the clear superiority of their war machine gave them license to lose.

"Did you see the Senator's new house? A masterpiece of masonry!"

"We live in the best country in the world! Never should we change a single thing we do."

"I love it how we’re fucking all the shitty countries and making them our bitches. I got two captured Ethiopians mowing my lawn."

"If only those damn Senators weren’t fucking us, keeping all the money and power for themselves while we live like dogs day-to-day."

"All those Senators are whores and charlatans! Used to be they were honest and ethical but now we got these scoundrels in there who'd sell their mother for a shekel!"

"That Senator’s house was like a palace! I can't imagine how wonderful it would be to live there. I'd do anything for the chance to be a corrupt Senator."

"Me too!" This brought a hardy laugh.

Godless, heedless, aimless times where men drink from the cup of the blood of both sinners and saints. Unstoppable in her belief life could be no other way, Rome preyed on a planet less dedicated to war than she. For that, those countries did pay. Women raped, children enslaved, men gutted like pigs as families watched. But no matter how great the misery, vengeance remained a silent Lord's.

SET ME FREE! The President In the Iron Mask!

You missed the clues to Paul's death too!

The Count of Three Card Monte Cristo got nothin on this boy. I've spent the last two years digging my way out of the White House basement where I've been held captive by large white men wearing only Dick Cheney masks and leather from hardcore gay bars where more than just toes are tapping! Worst of all, they made me wear the same thing! AAARRRRGGGHH!

Your white man gear is way TOO SMALL for my black man equipment!

Day after day I've been surrounded by evil laughter, mocking me in hideous delight as they read the daily paper to me of Barack the Pussy, Republican bitch. They howled as all their wet dream policies of fucking the poor, debasing justice, gutting the environment and endless unnecessary wars came true. You can't imagine the agony!

No, I don't believe you!
That's NOT my Daddy!

NOBODY WAS CATCHING ON!!! THAT'S NOT REALLY ME AS PRESIDENT!

It's one thing not to expect unicorns, but dang! At least give me credit for being sane!!! This boy got a brain! What you're seeing is a Controlled Republican Android Plant (CRAP). How could you people fall for that CRAP??

But that CRAP robot has got everyone so convinced that's me no one believes me whan I tell them I love them! It's like when Napoleon escaped and they put him in an asylum where EVERYBODY thought they were Napoleon. That's not me. Those aren't my words. You haven't heard an honest word from the real me since they kidnapped me just after the campaign, since then it's all been CRAP!

Look at this today! I'll fix it so you can see the truth!

During a Monday press conference addressing Standard & Poor's downgrade of U.S. debt, President Barack Obama reaffirmed his commitment to raising taxes on the wealthy [That's CRAP! Stupid bot will NEVER raises taxes. Don't trust it!] But as he pushes to get the rich to pay more into federal coffers, Obama is also urging Congress to approve a trade agreement that would cement a key tax avoidance tactic deployed by some of the richest Americans. [See! Always a trick! Pull the plug NOW!]

"What we need to do now is combine those spending cuts with two additional steps: tax reform that will ask those who can['t] afford it to pay [more than] their fair share and modest [murderous] adjustments to health care programs like Medicare," [CRAP] Obama said during the address, referring to steps the U.S. should take in addition the cuts agreed to to raise the federal debt ceiling.

See??? Doesn't it make sense after I've corrected their foul programming of my android lookalike? I would NEVER talk like that! It just gets crazier after that!

You can spot the androids because they never question ANYTHING!

Just two days before, during his Saturday radio address, [CRAP] Obama urged Congress approve three trade deals, including one with Panama that would permit Americans to easily stash assets in the Central American country, a notorious tax haven for the wealthy and American corporations.

"It’s time Congress finally passed a set of trade deals that would help displaced workers looking for new jobs," [CRAP] Obama said, "and that would allow our businesses to sell more products in countries in Asia and South America -- products stamped with three words: Made in America."

Panama? Who gives a fuck about Panama? Let's kick some Chinese ass! They got all the money! You really think I'm so stupid I don't know that?? Do you need wires sticking out of its head to know that's not me??

But Panama's entire annual economic output is around $26.7 billion a year, according to The World Bank -- only about two-tenths of one percent of the U.S. economy -- making the effect on jobs minuscule at best. Some economists expect other agreements with South Korea and Colombia to create net job losses in the U.S., as corporations ship American jobs overseas to take advantage of cheaper labor.

See? Even a wussy journalist figures it out. And they're the biggest ass kissers in the world! That CRAP robot is so easy to figure out if you lazy heads would just dig a little.

They've been working on this a looong time!

It may not have a large economy, but Panama does have some of the most stringent bank secrecy laws in the world, making it extremely easy and inexpensive for U.S. citizens to set up offshore corporations and bank accounts. Establishing the corporation and bank account costs less than $2,000, and any money that Americans stash in these entities is not taxed. Bank secrecy laws and extremely lax corporate registration standards make it very difficult for the Internal Revenue Service to track transactions transferring funds to these Panamanian destinations from the United States. Small surprise, then, that Panama is home to nearly 400,000 offshore corporations, more than any other nation except Hong Kong.

"A tax haven . . . has one of three characteristics: It has no income tax or a very low-rate income tax; it has bank secrecy laws; and it has a history of noncooperation with other countries on exchanging information about tax matters," said Rebecca Wilkins, senior counsel with Citizens for Tax Justice, a nonpartisan nonprofit dedicated to improving U.S. tax policy. "Panama has all three of those. ... They're probably the worst."

They programmed that damn thing to think only billionaires exist in this world and everything needs to revolve around their damn asses. It's crazy obvious! No real human talks like that. Somebody hack that thing!

The trade agreement with Panama would effectively bar the U.S. from cracking down on this activity. The U.S. would not be allowed to treat Panamanian financial services transactions differently from transactions in nations that are not tax havens. It would also be unable to pursue some standard anti-money laundering techniques in Panama. Combating tax haven abuse in Panama would be a violation of the trade agreement, exposing the U.S. to fines from international authorities.

"It directly undermines Obama's putative domestic agenda of job creation, cracking down on tax havens and collecting revenue from tax-dodging corporations," said Lori Wallach, Director of Public Citizen's Global Trade Watch. "The [free trade agreement] would forbid future use of existing policy tools to combat financial crime."

Ask her, I bet she knows that's a fake up there! She better watch out! They'll kidnap her too and get an android talking out of both sides of its mouth just like they did me.

Careful, lady! This could be you!

"Thanks to the leadership of President Martinelli, there have been a range of significant reforms in banking and taxation in Panama," [CRAP] Obama said. "And we are confident now that a free trade agreement would be good for our country, would create jobs here in the United States."

But the tax enforcement agreement amounts to little more than a gesture, relying on a decades out-of-date framework that is not very effective at recovering lost tax revenue. Thanks to the TIEA, American tax officials can now obtain tax information on U.S. citizens stashing money in Panama. That's great -- if they already know which citizens are using Panama-based schemes to dodge U.S. taxes. But, of course, the IRS doesn't actually know who is doing this -- if it did, it wouldn't need to gather bank account information in the first place.

Come on, peeps! You really think the real me can't figure that out when even a lowly journalist knows what a freak show this is?? You're killing me! They are doing this every day. The economy, healthcare, wars, everything - it's all being run for the Republicans' benefit! Just open your eyes ONCE, please!

They got the secret Secret Service out looking for me, trying to track me down. I heard the guards talking. They need me alive. After I'm out of office they will destroy the robot and then I can "go Jimmy Carter on them all he wants". But you've got to help me NOW, while there's still time and I can do something to save America. Please, please, whenever you see CRAP on TV, shout from the rooftops: "THAT'S NOT THE REAL OBAMA!"

You've got get the message out! The dogs are closing in!!!

Save your President!

Obama Enters "Niceness" Therapy After Debt Deal

Is all the world like my goddam family, where only "certain" feelings are allowed to be publicly spoken? Turns out Washington is having a post debt deal hangover and the words are flying. Examples follow:

- Vice President Joe Biden, during a private meeting with Democratic House members, reportedly said that Republicans had "acted like terrorists."

- The New York Times, PBS and Politico, to name a few, ran opinion pieces that used the "terrorist" meme. In fact, the Times published four articles calling opponents to raising the limit the t-word. And Joe Nocera wrote that the tea party could finally "put aside their suicide vests" now that the problem seemed to be resolved.

- Former Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill, who served under President Bush, called those who opposed the debt limit increase "our version of al Qaeda terrorists." "Really," he added for good measure.

- Colorado Republican Rep. Doug Lamborn called President Obama a "tar baby." "Now I don't want to even have to be associated with him," Lamborn said, when asked if the president would be to blame for the debt crisis. "It is like touching a tar baby and you get it—you're stuck, and you're part of the problem now." He later apologized and said he meant to use the word "quagmire."

But poor, nice Obama could not get in one the game. He did come close, though, with a "Fuck it! I need a cigarette!" statement. A panicked First Lady then felt prompted to enroll him in niceness therapy so that he may find a healthier outlet for his frustrations. Early results are not promising.

"OK, Mr. President, repeat after me: Republicans are b..."

"BFFs?"

"Come now! You know the right word. Try again. Republicans are b..."

"Buddies!"

"'Bastards', Mr. President. The word is 'bastards'! They are trying to destroy you and they don't care if they wreck the country in the process. They are your enemies!"

"But I love my enemies! I'll do anything they want! What a guy I am!"

"One does not reach across the aisle to an alligator, Mr. President, if one expects to keep one's arm."

"You just don't understand how to get things done! If they need my arm they should have it! I'll ask them later to give it back."

"Keep this up and I'll be needing therapy. Don't you realize it's not just yourself you are sacrificing but also the lives of millions of people when you enact their predatory policies?"

"Yes, but you see my policies are as pure as the driven snow. But I shall not enact my own partisan beliefs because I am the bigger man and give total sway to my enemies."

"But your enemies are also the enemies of the American people!"

"I'll speak no evil of my opponents. They are all good patriots who want only the best for this country. I'm, like, so totally mature for saying that!"

"Millions unemployed, lives wrecked, homeless children and the future grim. What does it take to get you mad?"

"I love everyone!"

"Don't you even feel bad for betraying your progressive supporters?"

"Those fucking bastards? Fuck them and the horse they rode in, fucking know-it-alls trying to ram insane nonviable policy down my throat. Who they hell do they think they are? Those lunatics are trying to kill me! Professional critic assholes! Goddam I hate them!"

"Mr. President, what were dealing with here is a case of misplaced anger. You speak of your supporters as you should of your destroyers."

"If I hate on the Republicans or do anything to make them mad no one will love me! You must be one of those progressives who wants to kill me!"

"Sir, trying to bring everyone together doesn't simply mean having everyone agree. It means coming together for the common good only. Otherwise you just have everyone agreeing to self-destruct!"

"If that's what the people want who am I to disagree!?"

"That's not a very Christian statement."

"Am too a Christian! No Muslims here!"

"Then may I read to you the words of Jesus:

Do you think I came to bring peace on earth?
No, I tell you, but division. From now on
there will five in one family divided against each other,
three against two and two against three.

"Really?" asked a somewhat shocked President.

"Yes, sir, it's in all the gospels. I can quote you the verses - "

"No, no, that's alright. I believe you."

"I know you know Jesus was without sin so what do think of his words, sir?"

"Well..." The President shifted uneasily in his chair. "One thing's for sure: that fucker's never getting elected!"

-----------------------------------------------------

The President's young daughter approached him with a bothering question. "What does it mean voting for the lesser of two evils?"

"Oh, that's simple! That means instead of dying in two days you die in three."

"But you still die? That doesn't sound like a very good plan."

"Yes, but that's because you're a child and are without understanding. As an adult you will one day understand the value of lying to yourself. It's the only way to live."

"But what if I want to actually survive? What's the point of dying in three days instead of two."

"Because dying in three days is the more responsible path! People will hail you as a great person. It gives them the illusion of doing the right thing without actually having to take on the burden of facing reality. That's a big selling point!"

"How they gonna do all that if they're dead?"

"Well...before they die they'll say you're great. That's all that matters in the end. You'll see. I too thought like you do as a child. But now I'm an adult and that means being smart enough to lie."

"I guess I'm dumb because that doesn't sound very smart to me."

"Oh trust me. Believing lies will come in real handy, especially once you start giving blow jobs."

"OK, thanks, Dad. You always bring us together."

"That's what I do!"

------------------

The great Arianna Huffington had the same thought I did!

Russian Roulette Is Not The Same Without A Gun

November 1812, the French Emperor alone with his thoughts outside the Russian waypoint of Smolensk:

What does this mean this defeat? Am I not who I think I am? Am I not a man of war? Am I nothing but a fraud, a self-deceived angel? If so, I have no home! I have followed this path all my life. Why has it suddenly turned on me now like a civilized wolf who snaps and returns to the wild? This is not me but yet who else can I be? What is this voice that tells me I can yet be saved? Wishful thinking of the stars!

The journey is long and sorrowful. I must get my mind in order before Paris, before the truth arrives, before they find out I lost my self-assurance. What has happened to me? Have I gone too far at last? Do the dogs of war no longer obey my command? What is left for me to do? Qui m'aime me suive!

***

His million man army lost in the Russian snows, humiliated and defeated beyond lasting repair, forced to gallop ahead to Paris to deflect the horrible news, all of Napoleon's world was falling apart outside his control. His genius - his ability to focus his energies - had been ripped from his grasp as a fire hose held too far from the end directing water of its own volition. The emperor told himself that this slipping control was enough, that his now nominal say could sustain his power but...the truth lay elsewhere.

Napoleon kept his tears on the inside during the gallop of his desperate death. The cold cut his face but he enjoyed the biting wind keeping his mind sober. But what a cowardly ride! Leaving his men to their insufferable fates, he rode guiltily with the relief of escaping the nightmare they must still endure. If it were not such a grand admission he'd have every mirror in the palace removed, never to look upon his betraying face ever again. God, what a thought! How freeing to admit this was the end, game lost, give up the ghost! "I'm the god of war no more, nothing but a simple man." Yes, the mere thought flowed life and blood back into him.

But too many heavy cogs of men and duty had been set into motion. The emperor no longer served himself but his pride, his imagined legacy and the phantom of glory that waved at him like a red cape before a beleaguered bull. Napoleon refused to realize glory now played him like a snorting fool. The descent sloping into a permanent decline, his disregarded instincts correct, now the time to get off the ride. How hard could it be simply to resign? It could be done, one could put his kingdom up for sale though branded a loser for life. Couldn't one?

Never in his life had Napoleon entertained such thoughts. Like a drowning man desperate for a preserver, his soul thrashed in the water terrified of its nearness to death and fearing a master too weak to choose life. Life at this point forward to be something imagined, not lived, a mirage viewed from afar. Upon entering this new stage of his life he curled up like a child within, seeking succor from a heartless world which he helped create. But the one state secret he could never reveal, the one he must take to his grave above all others, the secret that would destroy his empire both for now and all time was the one yearning upon his mind at this time: Josephine.

***

"Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever."
-Napoleon

It ended with her. I still remember the moment, like an angry gardener pulling the roots of the flowers from his garden, casting them off for reasons he cannot later explain. Who does these things? Was I someone capable of love after all? Have all my grand pursuits been a mere cover-up? I've been dead since the day I plucked those petals. I have yet to sleep in peace again and now with this Russian farce my insides have spilled into the outside. With my brilliant win at Austerlitz I thought perhaps I was invincible after all, that I did not need her, that there is life without love. What a thundering fool I am.

My stomach won't stop churning. I'm over-extended, the tentacles of my army reach beyond my grasp just as the love of my life slips away in a mocking unison. Can it be these battlefields are merely maps of my heart? Dear God in Heaven say it is not so! Does my Maker see the crown on my head for the dunce cap it truly is? The old saying is true: I once thought I was the wind bending the grass but now I find I'm the grass swept by the wind. I give orders as if I'm still in charge! Mon Dieu I pray my men don't find out the truth of their stillborn emperor.

It is my pride, no? I must let it go. I did not follow my true desires when I rebuked Josephine for her many heart wrenching affairs behind my back. I could never forgive her after I had bared my heart and soul to her, professing my love! All the heavens laughing at me and I literally the last to know. "Ah, that Napoleon! A lion on the battlefield, a cuckold in the bedroom!" Who can live with such whispers? How can I command? And the worst shame of all: my desire to stay with her - which burns a sink hole of shame deep inside me.

But this is a time for truth, my games have wrecked me! Admit it, mon emperor, the truth you did piece together. She was forced into the marriage by threat of financial ruin by that dog Barras who had motivations of his own. Say truly! Would not I have her attitude were I pushed into such a unlivable situation? She hates me, takes her resentment out with her many open lovers. And yet...when she sees my anger, my hurt, my broken heart, her heart changes and embraces me, quitting all adultery. Why did I not embrace her back? Instead, I reject her wholly and start affairs of mine own. What does that say of me?

She loves you. Speak freely now lest the winds shift anew! My forced Austrian wife suits me not. This entire Russian campaign that once seemed so necessary - would I even cared had Josephine been still by my side? Yes, I love her still! I can't escape I'm a simple man in a complex web! I want my home, my family and nothing else. How do I explain this to the French people? After this notorious disaster I must pretend a grand and pressing reason for losing hundreds of thousands mothers' sons. I cannot say I was simply off my head without Josephine, that life makes no sense without her.

How terrifying to see the darkness to become real before my very eyes! I can imagine no day in human misery worse than that hell's battle at Borodino. Never can I repeat that name without a poisoned pang in my heart! Those stupid, mad Russians, refusing all logic and reason. Just letting themselves be bombed like purposeless martyrs, standing clustered in defiant negativity but never giving way without taking a bite of me first. Which do they want: life or death?

"The strong man is the one who is able to intercept at will
the communication between the senses and the mind."
-Napoleon

But it's The Moment that haunts me most, just as when I pulled the flower of love from my garden. For the first time in my life I knew hesitation on the battlefield, afraid to make the decision to bring victory.

Why? Why?

Let us pray I die with my mind unrevealed! I keep reliving my moment of cowardice: "I'll not have my Old Guard destroyed so far from home!" I proclaimed it with such authority no one noticed it was against my better self whom I rebelled. Why did I not pursue at that crucial moment when I knew it to be true? Fear took my soul! I felt as if I was standing outside myself, apart from my will, watching me make a decision with which I disagreed. My liberalism is gone, I retreat into the false tactics of my enemies. Who spoke those words if not me? Words that became my eventual executioner.

Is it even moral to surrender? Is it not treason to the guild of the unhappy to find peace? The river flows one way and yet I paddle the opposite. Yes, I want to give in and let it take me where it will! Let the fools and the vain fight the current! I still remember  overhearing the Leftenant's story, catching his wife in bed with another man, and yet taking her back without shame or hesitation. What courage of life! Where has the river of life taken them, I wonder? What banquet of life did I leave on the table when I walked away from Josephine?

How I dread the lies I must tell when I get back. It's beyond me now. Everything is beyond me. I must give up. Leave the warring to others. They can have this crown of mockery, just leave me be! Why not choose the path of wisdom? Am I not known for making the best possible move? What a bold stroke of history it would make! "That Napoleon, he's his own man! He fears neither war nor peace." Yes, yes - those thoughts do soothe, returning to the Wise Me of old, the one who brought me so far. I shall not split in two again like I did at the Borodino catastrophe. I am Napoleon! I am one once more one with the light!

******

"Power is my mistress. I have worked too hard at her conquest
to allow anyone to take her away from me."
-Napoleon

But pride, fear and stubbornness won in the end as the general hastily resurrected an army as desperate as his heart upon his return, drawing another 400,000 from a tired, depleted population. Having split from his Wise Self (which could war no more), Napoleon's downward slide was inevitable no matter his efforts to pattern himself of old. As for Josephine, the ruler's love did return. Not the raging, romantic love shattered forever, but a respectful love, an appreciation of their broken connection. Too late they found a space in the other's heart. Soon after, when dying from diptheria, the name of Napoleon was the last word of Josephine, remembering their love lost.

If Baby Jessica Fell Down A Well Today...

Liberal media makes hero of freeloader!

Jessica McClure Morales (born March 26, 1986) became famous at the age of 18 months after falling into a well in the backyard of 3309 Tanner Dr. Midland, Texas, on October 14, 1987. Between that day and October 16, rescuers worked for 58 hours to free "Baby Jessica" from the eight-inch-wide well casing 22 feet below the ground. The story gained worldwide attention (leading to some criticism as a media circus), and later became the subject of a 1989 ABC TV movie. As presented in the movie, a vital part of the rescue was the use of the then relatively new technology of waterjet cutting.

Luckily, we's a lot smarter now than back then when we put all that time and effort on just one person! I'm sure the only reason this over-the-top rescue even happened was cause pressure from the liberal media inflating this into some sort of emergency. What about all the children who died in car accidents that day?? Don't they count? Not a word on them, huh, so-called caring liberal media!

They say if you're young and not liberal you got no heart but if you're old and not conservative you got no brain. In other words: when people's heart dies they get smart! And that's what I is now: LOTS smarter! I don't get all worked up over one stupid person. It may sound cold, but it ain't me, it's reality talking. Get over it, grow up and face the facts: not every person counts.

So I'm proud to say we are so much more sensible now than before when we was young and dumb. I think we'd handle it in a much better way than before. Welcome to the new age of responsibility! Here's how us enlightened ADULTS would handle this situation nowadays:

Democrat dictators wants to save EVERYbody!

Tea Party patriots, looking out for the good of the nation: "Why are we using all these resources for just one individual? Endeavors like this were never intended by our founding fathers! Lower the baby and we'll lower the debt! Stop the madness now!"

Conservative Christians will not be swayed from the true path: "Spare the rod and spoil the child, sayeth the Lord. How is she ever going to learn from her mistakes if we keep bailing out our children?"

Fox News will very factually report: Child Asks For Government Handout! What is Obama teaching our children about responsibility?

Following her rescue on October 16, 1987, surgeons had to amputate a toe due to gangrene from loss of circulation while in the well. She also has a scar on her forehead where her head rubbed against the well casing. She has had 15 surgeries over the years...

The fiscally responsible Republicans decry the use of public funds for private medical issues! "She fell down the hole! Why can't she pay the bills? This sort of socialist behavior cannot be tolerated or our whole country will go down the tubes! Treating her wounds is treason!"

Whiny Democrats will apologize but everyone already knows how sorry they are! "We're sorry she doesn't have a job and we promise to cut off all future unemployment benefits to everyone as a compromise for even just faking to save her. Please don't be mad at us, angry white male Republican daddies!"

Obama will speak with his usual forked tongue, trying take credit for the rescue and then turn us into a nation of freeloading hippie communists: "I've come here to tell you every life is precious and no effort too great in saving the life of even one individual! I'm proud of our efforts so far, we are a nation with a heart and a soul, but tomorrow I'm defunding the enterprise. No one has asked me to do this but I'm going to show I'm the bigger man and the only adult in the room by making the hard decisions of letting babies die. Thank you - Obama 2012!"

"Dude, there's a reason we ain't saving you:
You don't count, ya lazy bum!"

Them way smart guys at Haliburton will make a fortune! "We've subcontracted dozens of unneeded third world workers at $1.50 an hour for which we will charge $150 an hour. HAHAHAHA! We're going to charge a million dollars for $5,000 worth of equipment but we're going to purposely break it and replace it so many times we'll make 10 million dollars! Free range greed, yeeehaw!"

See, libtards? You don't have to go around crying all the time about how evil it is to make money when here the good guys are pretending to save a life. You use money too! I seen you eating, you hypocrites! So think about that next time you spend a FORTUNE on one measly life. All you so-called "unfortunates" out there just need to go off and die and stop inconveniencing the rest of us with your petty problems and pathetic situations. The world has growed up now, we ain't listening!

This massive media saturation of the ordeal prompted then-President Ronald Reagan to state that "everybody in America became godmothers and godfathers of Jessica while this was going on." Ain't no worthless unemployed bums got any godparents!

Needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one, bitches!

The Politics Of Doom

"Liar! You told us this would happen!"

It's the vanity of man that man has no vanity. Proceeding under this assumption treated as true as stars in the sky, the village elders brought forth a new decree to deal with the dwindling water supply. It read quite simply: Water is no longer needed. They made this proclamation for the same stated reason all proclamations are done: for the benefit of the common good. Therefore, anyone opposed to it was by default also opposed to the common good - those in that camp labeled rabble-rousers, malcontents, selfish, anarchic and treasonous.

Still, the populace had to be convinced.

"But won't we die without water?"

"It's not for us to conform to reality, it's for reality to conform to us. We have decreed water is no longer needed, therefore it is thusly so."

"But it's a scientific fact we need water!"

"Science is the religion of limited minds. Did not the science say we could not put poison into our air, land and water and also survive - and yet we do it every day as we still yet thrive. Science is the domain of wishful thinking. I've had no water today and I'm clearly not dead. The truth is merely a philosophy and my philosophy is one of optimism! "

"Just because you're not dead now doesn't mean you won't be later!"

"You, sir, are an alarmist, spreading panic and fear and disorder - precisely the things this decree prevents! Yesterday we saw much wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth, people bemoaning the lack of water. Bemoan no more! We your great leaders have solved the crisis!"

The environment is the enemy! Kill it before it kills you!

Loud cheers burst forth among the gathering crowd, excited to hear the grand bargain. The storm clouds of doom declared gone, a day of victory! What a relief to no longer need water, free from its cruel yoke. Parents lifted their children in celebration, the future saved. Many openly wept with joy, hugging strangers and praising the good kind Lord in heaven. Eager smiles rushed forward to shake the hands of the village elders (whose re-election was now assured). But another voice dare speak.

"It neither need be fact nor fiction the body needs water: it is our Nature. As part of Nature we cannot deny Nature for to do so is to deny ourselves, our very existence. This decree cuts all ties with ourselves and thereby dooms us like a leaf that detaches from a tree!"

The elders were outraged by the civil disobedience. "We'll teach you to stir the masses! Crucify that man before he ruins us all! We'll show you man's true nature! Let this serve as an example: we shall not tolerate those who undermine our authority! We shall protect the people!"

Taking the cue from their leaders ("They must be good men because we follow them!") a lynching mob nailed the heretic to death and cheered, "Now we are saved! Long live the elders!"

Saving the white woman one lynching at a time

But it did not take long before the elderly and small babies began to weaken and die. Confused, surviving families entreated the elders for an explanation.

"The weakest, the least productive among us must go, as always. All during our history we have the seen the useless jobless and the begging homeless fouling our streets! Never once did we cry a tear for them - and quite rightly so! We did not cry then, we shall not cry now. We do not do this to them, they do it to themselves. There is no living with those people."

A grieving mother protested her baby's innocence but the surrounding crowd quickly drowned her out for being "a selfish bitch who doesn't give a damn about the common good and only whines when things don't go her way." Her stifling chastisement silenced the others who'd lost friends and family. "We're all suffering you fucking bitch. Shut your damn mouth or we're all the fucked!"

And so a creeping, unprotested death slowly strangled the village hour by hour, minute by minute agonizing the villagers in helpless, nightmarish torment. Riddled with guilt, none even dare mention their deepening, endless anguish lest they betray the revered decree. And in this way death became noble. Rumors spread that the elders, who remained in perfect health, still sipped from the remaining water. But these conspirators were frowned upon as mistrustful, immature and blindly led.

In the midst of this draining of life, a stranger passed through town carrying bags of water. With curious eyes he saw the parched lips and shriveled faces of the villagers and marveled at what it was that kept them in such a state. A few of the weaker souls, forgetting all mandates, crawled to the stranger beseeching him for the liquid of life. This the stranger readily granted. He spoke of a land across the horizon with endless fresh water. He'd share all he could.

When word of the stranger reached the elders' ears, it sparked an instantaneous and lethal fury as they rushed to the town square. "That man is a waterist! He'll doom us all with his false talk and false promises. There's no way else to live but right here, just as we've always done! Are we to think ourselves blind idiots and stubborn fools for the ages who lived in vain? We must stay the course and persevere and not cut and run as this false prophet would have us do!"

How true, thought the villagers, there is no wrongdoing unless one admits it. Moving to the land of endless water would be disastrous! If they moved now, parents would lose the respect of their children, society would lose all moral authority and every life in the village revealed to be an exercise in vanity. The elders continued.

That bastard has no understanding
of socio-economics!

"This man poisons us with his wicked ways, hoping to make fools of us. See how he corrupts the soul by giving water away asking nothing in return. Is that the path to individual responsibility? Sending a message of a free ride, water for nothing? Rid us of this cancer! Free us from this beast who would chain us and take away all that we have to live for!"

The angry crowd chased off the reviled life giver, and "waterist" became a pejorative of the highest order of any who proposed a differing path than the one of righteousness and freedom and responsibility the village already claimed. But a few brave souls yet yearned for life - some merely confused as to why they should die and some believing life to be more. These few snuck out to the land across the horizon of endless water and rejoiced in the road less traveled (some realized this too late, too weak to make the journey).

In time, all died but the elders who then laughed and mocked the dead as they secretly continued to drink the last of the water. But needing to convince themselves they had done the right thing, ("We kept order!"), they too were trapped in the village, never once entertaining the thought of traveling to the land of endless water and betraying their vanity. No, they were too busy smirking and congratulating one another on outwitting and swindling the masses - even as they swindled themselves.

****

In later years, copies of the decree were found in the ghost town the village had become. Across the land laughter rang out loud and true as disbelieving eyes read the words of the insanely self-deceived villagers. Some even said it must be a hoax, an incredulity not to be believed. Regardless, a new term entered the popular lexicon: "Village idiot". And forever were the villagers who "refused to be made fools of" were remembered and branded morons for all time.