Monday, 28 November 2016

Honest Adolph (Novel Serial) Chapter 10: Bleeding for Freedom (Instalment 3)

LAST TIME:

Ha! Yes, I know. And guess what? For what it’s worth, I’m with you too!
And we are going to do some great things that not one of you have ever dreamed of.
But I need you on side.
So, listen to me, my friends: don’t you ever, EVER give in to fearmongering, and don’t you ever, EVER give in to intimidation, or emotional blackmail, or wild rhetoric, or propaganda, or pitiful ideological nonsense, or artful manipulation, or any of the hateful crap the regulated media are spewing out about us.
Don’t cede an inch to the quivering cowards among us.
THIS IS AMERICA!
WE ARE AT WAR!
AND ANYONE WHO STANDS IN OUR WAY WILL BE ANNIIIHILAAATEEEEEEEEED!

Honest Adolph (Novel Serial) Chapter 10: Bleeding for Freedom (Instalment 2)

LAST TIME:

And they printed the speech in full.
They never do that.
So why this?
Why now?
Why him?
Senator Marcus Charleston Bubble, instead?
But what about Saul? What about Adolph Adams? Or Patti Stone? Or Wallace Quincey? Or the Miller brothers? Or Harriet Fox? Mary Avivah Russell? Stanford Cohen? Ubuntu Grace?
No-one who stood up for what is right ever got more than a few lines.
How could they?
How could they?
How dare they?
What gave them the right?

THE STORY CONTINUES:

That’s right, everyone. I have seen at first hand the atrocious dangers terrorism poses to our country. I almost perished when I was consulting with my fellow Georgians. If a Georgia Senator can be almost killed when he is going to meet his fellow citizens, the people of his own state, well… God alone knows what our enemies are prepared to do to anyone else!

Honest Adolph (Novel Serial) Chapter 10: Bleeding for Freedom (Instalment 1)

The bedside lamp flicked on once more.
It had been on and off more in these past ten hours than in the previous month.
Or year?
Who cares?
I cannot count.
These pitiful flesh-scrapings from a felled tree of these thousands; soggy-rank with tears, sodden with such wrong-ridden kind of ink, still doggedly stood and saluted, giving forth words both good and evil, no matter what the cost.
Hot tears blazed. Lucy’s eyes swam with fury. She had almost lost her Saul Friedman forever. How dare they? These evil people. How dare they!
And they printed the speech in full.
They never do that.
So why this?
Why now?
Why him?
Senator Marcus Charleston Bubble?
What about Saul? What about Adolph Adams? Or Patti Stone? Or Wallace Quincey? Or the Miller brothers? Or Harriet Fox? Mary Avivah Russell? Stanford Cohen? Ubuntu Grace?
No-one who stood up for what is right ever got more than a few lines.
How could they?
How could they?
How dare they?
What gave them the right?

Wednesday, 23 November 2016

My Fellow Peace Criminals! Keep safe... But Not TOO Safe!

I just had a fake Facebook friend request. Maybe it's an identity thief, but as someone doing anti-war stuff, you never know! Snooper's Charter, PATRIOT Act, Martial Law in France... Your lives are not your own, and nor is mine.



I once also had (insofar as the account was actually genuine) a Facebook friend request from someone in the US military top brass (!)

I don't mind so much death threats; I had a death threat from a warmongering Russian tankie once. But when it comes to getting fake Twitter or worse still, Facebook follows, that is REALLY sinister.  Particularly when you know your anti-war critique is pseudonymous.

It IS weird. You never know whether they are low-life fraudsters or high-life Tory/Red Tory/Dempublican humanitarian gangsters.

Still, I've never once seriously considered quitting.

Just a reminder to everyone to keep safe...

But not TOO safe!

Wallace


Monday, 21 November 2016

Honest Adolph (Novel Serial) Chapter 9: Occident’s Downfall, Spengler’s Uprising (Instalment 3)


LAST TIME:

‘Look, it’s not every poor little black kid coulda done what you’ve done? Right? You coulda been sitting there injectin’ heroin or, or I dunno, playin’ Grand Theft Auto, or even tryin’ it out for real, I mean fuck knows boy, like ya see these goddamn inner cities and all these here superpredator anarchistic hoodlums, oh well thank God you were spared that fate, Ida cried to see you miss your chance to be just like the other kids here, I mean ol’ Giddy Truman woulda broke his crazy old heart here, Otis boy, he really woulda, Ida had nothing left, flaming zilch, Otis, I woulda…’
Otis’ mind was recently drawn to recent allegations of pork-barreling involving a certain prominent propaganda outlet, but he dismissed the thought. Consistency is not necessarily the hobgoblin of small minds; but perhaps insisting upon it, on this occasion, would be unnecessarily derailing, and throw up some unnecessary obstacles in his path to freedom.