TORTURE NEVER STOPS... (Thank you, Frank Zappa !)

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Sunday, November 11, 2007


Gabriel A. Levicky


(Another serious ranting)

Many people intended to ask me a fundamental question. What made me a poet and/or a cartoonist (order is up to you…)? I must admit their concern rather caught me with – literally – my pants down. Hm, let me think. Interesting thing is that even as a little child, one glimpse at the world around have convinced me that it’s only a façade, a mask, a curtain with the sole purpose of covering up the real mess.

Stinking mess

The real mess starts with a horrible smell. At first, one has considerable difficulty to locate the epicenter of that smell. At the beginning one walks around with a thumb and a pointing finger clamping a nose of various sizes and shapes. It smells like shit but it’s still not identified as such. So we spend a large portion of our short life walking around with a clasped nose, wondering why the others don’t smell it. It appears that way…

History you can smell

I have become astutely aware of the twisted world affairs since I was a schoolboy. My parents lost everything in that last, big stinky war, even their senses. The only sense they retained was a smell of survival at any cost. So they have continued to survive in this fashion until today. Somehow, I did rebel against all of it; I refused to accept that you got to shut up when someone with ‘authority’ speaks or barks orders. I have also decided at that early age that schooling is just another control tool in a country so damaged and so pathetic.

Hanging up there

In our classroom (as in every classroom behind the Curtain) we had 2 pictures hanging on the wall – one was our second postwar president whose prewar vocation was a carpenter. Another carpenter… It was a very appropriate profession for he learned how to chisel people just like the wood – until they disapeared. The second hanging guy was a seriously smiling person with thick hair combed up and a significant Georgian mustache – courtesy of the past Ottoman fanatics. He had a kind of contemptuous smile under his brush as if saying: “Children, watch out – one day you might become a son of a bitch just like me!”

As it turned out, both of those hanging men were the supreme sons of bitches. They both died miserable death, abandoned, lonely and despised by almost all, but only after they killed millions. Let’s hope both of them are now wandering among their tortured and killed victims in the darkest corners of the Roasting Headquarters. And if they don’t, let’s hope their dust has turned into shit that unbearably stinks as a warning.

Why such a big fuss of becoming an adult?

Being or becoming an adult is not fun. First, life is visibly and mercilessly receding together with your manly mane. Then you have to prove to yourself that you are worthy of living. Yes, chose a profession that will make you secure and calm. If not, you are doomed and more aggressive shit-heads will get ahead of you, poking fun at you with their ridiculous taste and power. So that’s why, for example, in today’s China, 20-year old or something kids look, act, and behave as if they were in their 60’s. Most of them are arrogant, ignorant technocrats, copycats, licking the balls and asses of their Capitalist/Communist top idiots with huge bank accounts in that cheesy country, called Helvetia.

Yeah, that’s what you call a boom generation. I call it maggots. They are nothing but the maggots on a vast body of knowledge and compassion.

Politically correct madness

We have arrived here to another concept or miss-concept that I really want to address. Being politically correct. What does it mean? This too smells like shit and it is shit. Shit with capital letter. Being PC is like conducting the surgery on a patient who meantime dies but the surgeon is so enamored with his new procedure that he ecstatically asks everyone around “Isn’t it wonderful? Look at this machine! It works as it should. Never mind the patient; we all gonna die one day…But the future is bright and unstoppable…” The poisonous idiocy of PC is quite evident on various campuses, ghettoes, and bodegas worshipping various idols by wearing them on their chests: Che, Mao, Stalin, Fidel, Lenin, hammer & sickle and other paraphernalia from that very stinky period.

Imagine to wear a T-shirt with, let’s say the German emperor, brown Reich Chancellor, Pinochet or Franco, Batista or Burmese generals? We would probably have the riots during which the worthless, stupid and McDonald fed fats would rob the stores and burn the cars. Here goes your PC shit! But it’s an attractive shit, it permutes everywhere in the society that pride itself to be free and democratic. Sure, you can write, draw, paint, and scream anything, providing no one will read, see, or touch it. You can go on and on with it until you become a janitor, security personnel, or mad or even better, convert to another religion you have no clue about.

American dissident

My favorite American dissident Frank Zappa (a hero and anti-hero at the same time), have proven by his vital prolific restlessness that you can step aside from the traps of “having a correct answer all the time, for everyone.” His insight observations lead him to supreme sarcasm and irony, which he was able to transform into a very potent language of music and lyrics “insulting” everyone until the day he died. It is always a sad day for the country like America when their icons die, being “replaced” by all this unfortunate idiocy, cheapness and mediocrity of hip-hop, rap and other demonstrations of berserked subculture for the sole purpose of making money. Lots of money.

Sick and tired

I am sick and tired of seeing the faces in every newsstand full of smiling or grimacing idiots and their shiny, sleaze, cheap gold imitation teeth and chains. I want to tow all their obnoxious, blasting cars to Baghdad to the most dangerous Sunny triangle hood and blow them up! I am sick and tired of their semi-dressed chicks with stupid asses, blown breasts and blank, starring faces, saying: “We like to be called niggers, bitches, cocksuckers as long as we appear in this shot!” But, hey, white trash, don’t you dare to call us that way!” And most of all, I am sick and tired of all religions, especially my favorite one, number 1 on my shit list – I-slam - but you don’t.

Sick religions

The blood cult, wooden-cross worshipers, the followers of the schizophrenic, slightly unemployed rabbi from Beit Lechem are constantly constructing and reconstructing all those ridiculous and crazy stories – about dying for our sins, one must repent, otherwise we all are going to be bbq in the Rotisserie Headquarters.

Excuse me? I like my sins and I know my commandment – the only one I need – TO LIVE AND LET LIVE!

What? You are going to unleash all your reverends, prophets, and completely unemployed addicts to burn down my neighborhood ?! Fine! But not today.

I am comfortably aware of the wooden-cross long list of crimes and stupidity. First, we burn the written stuff, then the people. First, we deny their humanity and turn them into reciting marionettes in the tall Cathedrals with serious heating problems. Then we walk all over their dignity and tell them it is going to be better up there. But where is that up there? Down? This global idiocy still permutes our times. It is as if delayed Tsunami is on its way to our shores, forcing us to flee but there is nowhere to run or swim. Because on the other side, over there – there are those, other cult guys waiting to get us. The death cult has stolen, borrowed, and reinvented from its main source – from great story tellers who decided that having a lots of gods is un-economic and wasteful. One is enough, plus this concept can concentrate a lot of power and control in the hands of the selected few.

On being the Chosen and more

Thus, we got here a story of a great producer of miracle movies under the supervision of bunch of seriously bearded men, whom they call allmighty. He has chosen them to be chosen and ordered them to do all sorts of mental and physical gymnastics – and to make it even more difficult – blood must flow from the penises of the male protagonists – leading roles and extras.

Cut off that useless foreskin, let them feel guilty each time they desire to fuck! Let them congregate and become paranoid – what, when, and what time we supposed to eat? Let them tell everything to a shrink. Let them become preoccupied with sex and more sex, especially when they can’t get it. Let them write treatises about the meaning of a hot dog and mysteries of blue-print knishes. Or even better…

Let them have a job, then fire all of them so they can travel 40 years in the desert. Let them have a country then destroy it and expel all of them to live in the exile, herded in the ghettoes where they can be comfortably slaughtered by the followers of that wooden cross testament – written by a dozen crazed fishermen, tax collectors, and ancient hedge fund managers. Let them learn German with that funny accent, wait, the Russian too! Now, this is what I call – a poetic justice! Let them be accused of blood libel, the first transfusion conspiracy theory and let them dream about the better Europe with nice tiled shower rooms. Auf wiedersehen, you schmucks!

Yes, another bloody history

It took both of these cults – after years of hostility and more stupidity to finally come to their senses (as if it wasn’t quite obvious from the start), that a separation of so much abused power of the Church and a new concept of nation state, came to existence as an alternative to: burning at stakes, breaking bones or cutting off the heads, quartering the bodies by four horses send to 4 different directions (a very refined method), looking for witches and boiling them in large vats until they confess (a broom became a hero here for 15 minutes of deserved fame), excommunicating independent minds and then paralyzing them in the name of faith!

Finally! But just as we have thought – the last hurdle towards so called progress has been conquered – almost instantly a new, terrible idiocy popped up from the cradle of all idiocies under the banner of Crescent. Another death cult with elaborate schemes of supreme dedication and reward. This time it wasn’t funny at all. It was damned serious – the rivers of blood soon floated, the heads were rolling, the slaves were shivering - while more atrocities were committed by the primitive, crazed, sand tribes promised everything if they can get it. Again in the name of one supernatural being with different names. Too late and too little has been done to challenge and stop this new idiocy. Time again and again we got an idea, a deliverer, and a main protagonist, telling us what to do, when and how. Yes, and again and again there was threat, more atrocities and more fairy tales invented to fortify this vicious circle of stolen ideas with an impact of a nuclear head.

And (boring), a new, so called prophet have risen from the humble background (usually a touching story of maternal virginity illuminated that miserable bastard birth) – just one has to be 100% convinced that sure enough, he ain’t educated or literate, only special.

Sure, go ahead – tell them about your cave visions and meetings with “the other side.” But before you do, please wash your hands off that camel and donkey stink and do some mental masturbation in order to brink the kingdom of peace and love (tears), respect and tolerance closer and closer to the decimated population in dire need of blood transfusion.

On & onto taxes

So here, we have – a guy who suddenly had a vision and a visit from a winged delivery service – and everything changed in the kingdom of desert. The same story as with previous obsessive oneness surfaced with some alterations.

Debilitated and undernourished desert tribes on a huge peninsula were fighting and killing each other for centuries. This was their economy! Read my bloody sable, stupid! Every conquered enemy had to pay taxes and more. Under the new rulers, guided by the omnipotent Sharia (a conglomerate of so called law rulings, always in advantage for those who are up) – if you happened to convert and became a member of umma, you didn’t have to pay taxes which almost instantly created a problem. If everyone converts, who will pay taxes? Therefore, the conversion of “non-believer dogs” dhimma, have significantly dropped. The better ways was to issue an ultimatum to the besieged and pretend there was a volume problem. Good. Then once in, slaughter the male population, fuck their women and later together with their kids, sell them to the slave brokers. Of course, the looting – do you think I would forget looting? May you left arm doesn’t know about your right one! A natural act of a victor – this way the whole region, city or town paid taxes on the spot with no overhead, saberly speaking.

The new leader – just like the old one

The leader of these new bandits was a self-made man with street smartness about him. He has seen the rise and fall of the 2 previous cults (from his perspective), so he intentionally has woven their stories into his new declaration of collective vision. The final product, finely tuned has canonically appeared in today’s form almost 70 years after the bandit’s death. It is a mumbo-jumbo idiocy of stolen and borrowed ideas – threatening, warning, fingering, tongue sticking, mentoring, ordering, spitting - and again and again - in an endless loop.

Meanwhile the new leader was busy exercising his smartness and sexual appetite. As a very horny desert warrior, he dreamt about it his whole life. Who is going to judge him for the adoption of 6-year old maiden Aisha whom he conveniently fucked (or consume her) when she was nine? Surely, it must have been a miracle and spreading (besides the legs) the new faith at the same time. The new Crescent cult became very busy and very curious, washing and polishing their bloody bent sables. In order to boost their economy, they have to attack the other, very rich neighbors. Attack and convert! But, please not everybody, remember? Read my hips.

Later on (classic)

Many centuries later, it’s easy to forget all that madness and utmost stupidity – on both sides – shaping our planet. Gosh, most people don’t even remember what happened 60 years ago or for that matter 2 weeks ago! The most amazing thing about this bloody, primitive cult is that they demand precisely the very same things they deny to the others. And what do they want? More mosques, jihad fatwa, virtual fences around their miserable, disgusting laws and customs - for example cutting off any kind of skin, including labia and clitorises. They want their pathetic laws, their Sharia madness to become a legal ground for all legislative procedures wherever they are. Hi, wanna have a great day – beat your wife blue out of the blue. She will figure out what for…The main thing is to wrap them tight in those mummy outfits, make them look like a bottle of ABSOLUT ISLAM with as many as possible little bottles in tow.

Their brainwashed idiots shiver with excitement. Today we will stone again or cut that hand that has stolen! Yes, an eye for an eye, tooth for tooth – the stuff they have stolen from the “People of the Book” - the Jews - and took it literally. And the world blame the Jews for dealing with money?

Crimes against humanity

But the most terrible crime against humanity is how they deadly threaten the search for scientific knowledge and objective truth - that attempts to seriously analyze the very essence of it and to prove that all this bloody nonsense, all this stinking mess they call faith, religion – is just a human invention to make our lives more bearable in face of our relatively short existence.

Therefore, that’s why you don’t have an abundance of critical, academic works from the respectable learning institutions or visible local, dissident activity, challenging all this medieval fascism. For we all are becoming the ultimate victims. If we are not able (out of fear or any other reason) to address these and other related issues, then we are nothing but a walking silhouettes on its way to the execution platform.

Instead of progressive, deep inputs, we got a different motivation – fear. This factor alone paralyzes our whole planet and threatens her to drown in blood and shit.

News? What news?

We got many things to liberate. Better hurry up before other messenger brings you the news.

And as usual – the news travel in pair – the good and the bad.

The good news is that the bad one is spreading slowly but surely. The bad news - you don’t want to hear about it anymore. News? What news?


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