Lust Games / Void Games / Politics

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Good not to be a bum or degenerate mongrel producing lover

Posted in Commentary, current events, dominance, Fascism, News, opinion, political science, Politics with tags Authoritarianism, Critical thinking, Democracy, Government, media, political commentary, political satire, power on July 15, 2013 by B Schiff

Good not to be a bum or degenerate mongrel producing lover

Many who wish to gain power by democratic means wish to do so so that they can rig the system to their ends. The loyalty is not to the system but to the power grab.

Many at the economic top of a system or country or federation or whatever share not in the common framework or identity of that system or country or federation as they have the means to go where the winds of protection and opportunity cushion best their existence and buy them the best fences and most ardent lackeys.

American heartland. Give not to the sappers of American strength and vital bodily fluids. Give instead to those who can implement a proper oligarchy who will place the heartland hotties in the proper order on the please, please pecking order. Please pleas know that the heartland hotties are worthy of being allowed to exist and allowed to support the proper drives to order the world to the liking of said oligarchs and the favor of said heartland hotties.

Inequity is a byproduct of of the cheapening of the value of the mostly marginal populace who mostly don’t serve the general good of those who need the canon fodder, the gut wrenching actual need for labor, the minimal ability to need and buy those goods and services that the rest of the damned world won’t support.

Tough love is the demanding that those bums and lovers make do and survive in venues that cannot support survival.

Good not to be a bum or degenerate mongrel producing lover.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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Keep em dumb …. True believers in force, the whip hand, strength, strength and the din of sin

Posted in Commentary, current events, dominance, News, opinion, political science, Politics, Uncategorized with tags Authoritarianism, Critical thinking, Curriculum, Democracy, Education, media, political commentary, political satire, power on July 13, 2013 by B Schiff

Keep em dumb …. True believers in force, the whip hand, strength, strength and the din of sin

Keep em dumb……

Immigrants are likely to vote to the left of center …… bad things…

Keep em dumb …..

The educated are likely not to cherish the rights to be toadies to private and public systems that have them by the scrotum and are happy to do so as good business and good power models demand the efficient use of force, juice, hammers, sneers and the minimal giving into shared anything at all …. wealth, money … power … decision making … rights … bounty, survival

Keep em dumb ….. Why support public education taught by miserable indoctrinated wretched teachers who might do and think the absurd and have some, any, rancid bias towards classical thinking, a classical education, critical thinking, a critical education … have a bias towards an understanding of intellectual discipline, intellectual thought … and an eye toward civic necessity, civic unease, civic virtue….

Keep em dumb …..

Curriculum is king ….. own it …. teach that which is fun and of use to owners, breakers, makers, seekers, oligarchical fops, crooks, mobs, thugs and all manner of users, intimidators, haters, baters, fools and drones …

Keep em dumb …..

A great pool of dependent labor, self absorbed self righteous selfish, scared battle ready citizens and outright true believers in force, the whip hand, strength, strength and the din of sin.

Keep em dumb …..

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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Not there. Never there. Not here. Never here.

Posted in Commentary, current events, dominance, Fascism, News, opinion, political science, Politics with tags Authoritarianism, Authority, Critical thinking, Democracy, media, political commentary, political satire, power on July 11, 2013 by B Schiff

Not there. Never there. Not here. Never here.

The age of ideology has come and gone. Communism. Fascism. The world had endured a century of flying fun fighting the scopes and loves of isms, strength, authoritarianism, absolutism, the ideas such forms held high and pristine and represented so fiercely, so well.

Religious supremacy was of the ages dark and the civilizations weak. Clamps upon the minds of men were now the devils tools of a once and past primitive era of days gone by. Worlds at war. Minds at unease, beaten to pulp. Civilizations on the march. Bravely.

Good, decent folk in lock step with their masters. Come the secular …. a way out of war and strife and blood feud and holy rollers. A way ringed and reigned in triumph and light … paths from the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, the Declarations of advanced humanity.

Blood shed forever and ever. Pious ramrods dying for the good ideals of totality, God and tribe and the good of the ideals of worship …. for now and then and ever and ever. Sweet, lovely, beckoning authoritarianism never goes away …. its attractions too pure … its victors winning their own private heavens, their own private hells.

There the others go. There the others march. Not there. Never there.

Not here. Never here.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39291

Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel …. Installment 2

Posted in books, dominance, Drama, fiction, literature, Mystery, political drama, political fiction, political novels, political science, Politics, Uncategorized, writing with tags Authoritarianism, Authority, Critical thinking, noir, political drama, politics noir, power on July 8, 2013 by B Schiff

Installment 2

Dominance Games: An Essay on Power

A Novel

There were foreign objects; there was pain. It was the 6th of fucking June.

On came Richard fucking Kenny and his fellow fucking brave hearts. On came God’s fucking crusade in some fucking death trap of a fucking landing craft in the fucking English fucking Channel just dying to help a bunch of fucked up, fuck assed fucking Frogs get their god damned, fucking fucked up fucking country back from some god damned, fucking fucked up fucking fuck assed crazy assed fucking goose assed stepping assed, fucking, rot in hell fucking Krauts.

Dreams for Richard fucking Kenny.

A putrid soldier’s dreams.

Richard fucking Kenny found himself with the first assault waves of American heroes climbing up the fucking beaches of fucking Normandy.

The young man next to Richard fucking Kenny on the fucking landing craft on the way to the fucking beach sang the praises of Christ the fucking Lord. The one next to him puked his fucking guts out. Richard fucking Kenny had not only come three thousand fucking miles to get his fucking ass blown off but he had to do it with some fucking idiot’s fucking puke all over his fucking gear and some other fucking idiot singing the fucking praises of Christ the fucking lord in his fucking ear.

Richard fucking Kenny was very fucking agitated, disgusted about the whole fucking thing. He was fucking annoyed. He would, he thought, have, at least, died a happier goddamned fucking death if he was sliced and diced by one of his old fucking playmates and left to bleed to death in some god damned fucking stink hole puddle in some god damned fucking stink hole alley behind some god damned fucking, rotten assed, fucking greasy spoon.

His god damned, fucking father, where ever the fuck he was must be turning over in his god damned, fucking grave at the thought of his only fucking son running around with a bunch of fucking red necked fucking bloody fucking American he-men about to fucking charge good old fucking Europe, from whence his god damned, fucking father ran, to play god damned, fucking wonder soldier, god damned brave fucking wonder fucking hero.

Kraut soldiers were without bitter appreciation.

Richard fucking Kenny hit the beach on the shores very early in the fucking morning.

The fucking Kraut soldiers did not want to lose precious ground. They wanted Richard fucking Kenny and his fucking friends to be fucking dead. They appreciated fucking greatness, not Richard fucking Kenny. Little fucking Addie Kraut was their mad fucking fool. He was strong.

A wonder fucking soldier, wearing his spiffy little super duper little fucking uniform and traveling fucking on, Richard fucking Kenny was a thrill a minute. Richard fucking Kenny was getting his fucking tail shot at pretty fucking good. This day was to Richard fucking Kenny was a particular pain in the ass.

Richard fucking Kenny in the middle of a fucking, stinking, dirty, fucking, fuck assed, fucking foxhole in the middle of the fucking, stinking, dirty, fucking fuck assed screw assed fucking war.

Richard fucking Kenny became a dirty, fucking hero, another fucking smart assed, wise assed fucking wise guy, wise assed fucking savior.

Two fucking throwbacks to some fucking simian past. Two fucking, anti-Semitic, anti-human, sub-human fucking throwbacks. Richard fucking Kenny killed seven fucking Krauts. Richard Kenny knocked off a fucking Kraut machine gun nest

Richard fucking Kenny barely stopped himself from killing the two fucking southern fucking fuck assed fucking throwbacks to some fucking simian past, the two fucking, anti-Semitic, anti-human, sub-human fucking southern throwbacks. He saved his fucking outfit.

The lieutenant who was barely fucking alive only by grace of God and the captain who was half dead were both fucking very fucking happy that Richard fucking Kenny didn’t kill all of their own fucking wonder soldiers. They were both exceptionally proud that Richard fucking Kenny was a member of their, this man’s, fucking Army. They were most certainly overwhelmed. Richard fucking Kenney was their great fucking hope.

Richard fucking Kenny was put upon the god damned fucking earth to do great things, to fuck rotten fucking ladies, to be sharp as a tack, twice as mean. He loved to save the lives of the fucking wonderful who would be very happy to hang his happy little fucking New York fucking assed neck from a god damned fucking cross when he was back in the god damned fucking fuck assed States. Richard fucking Kenny just wanted to jump up and down and salute the god damned fucking good old fucking red, white and fucking blue’s best fucking examples of fucking class.

* * * * * * * * * *

Richard fucking Kenny demeaned dangled leaden calves, gave up on dangled fucking leaden losers. He jack assed backward through the straights of hell. Sanguine, straight, Richard fucking Kenny jack assed backward through low dealers, low weasels, low wants, low fucking kills.

The All fucking American fucking boy was not something Richard fucking Kenny could put up with too much longer. Richard fucking Kenny reveled in his own fucking wonder. He was fucking proud that he had saved the lives of all of the fucking red necked fucking fuck assed fucking hicks. Richard fucking Kenny was tired, very, very tired, and he didn’t want the All fucking American fucking boy to wake up one fucking morning and turn on Richard fucking Kenny when Richard fucking Kenny wasn’t fucking looking

Many forms, many shapes the All fucking American fucking hero. He said many different fucking things. He was sure to turn into a no good fucking asshole sooner or later. Poor Richard fucking Kenny.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the fucking war.

He survived it. The first day, the first day off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the second day, the second day off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the third day.

Richard Kenny survived the fourth day.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the first fucking month off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the first fucking year off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the fucking war.

* * * * * * * * * *

Amy. Sweet, sweet, Amy. Amy Lucille to the young men and women of pride and honor. Amy Lucille to those who sought the glint in her radiant brown eyes shining brightly as she allowed company with the sons and daughters of manners and property. She, Amy Lucille, able to touch their hearts vigorously, in worship and adoration.

Amy. Sweet, sweet, Amy was that which could make life worth living, a shining beacon apart from all others of a peculiar conflagration of will, of a peculiar conflagration of mood, a treasure, Amy. Sweet, sweet, Amy. She wished to be the ideal to which all fine young dreamers might aspire, who did not let the pedestal upon which she found herself not allow her to not do what she must.

The giver of sunshine and shadow, the purveyor of pleasure and pain. The killer of mothers, the lovers of fathers, the seductress of aunts and uncles. The touch, the brush, the sweet, sweet kiss, the dear, sweet caress. Amy, sweet, sweet Amy. The nectars, the juices of sweet, sweet existence. How sweet, sweet Amy craved. How she craved. Sweet, sweet Amy.

Sweet, smart Amy. Amy, sweet, sweet Amy could only think of thighs and such and water her lips with the tip of her tongue. Amy. Sweet, sweet, Amy could only think of sighs and such and water her lips with the tip of her tongue. The sweet, sweet lovers of sweet, sweet Amy, sweetly, sweetly maimed, murdered, before sweet, sweet Amy could ever again enjoy their sweet, sweet pleasures.

The lures of those who fondled, the lures of those who craved, Amy, sweet, sweet Amy would live to crave a thousand lives. The sweet, sweet lovers of sweet, sweet Amy, sweetly, sweetly maimed, murdered, before sweet, sweet Amy could ever again enjoy their sweet, sweet pleasures.

She was the last best hope of daunting sin, Amy.

Some men died for love, Sweet Amy figured. Some men died for money, Sweet Amy figured. Some just wanted freedom from ghosts, dead spirits, evil, she figured. Some took the path of least resistance. Some, the last alternative to life.

Amy. Sweet, sweet, Amy.

She baited, she cooed, Amy. She laughed, she darted. She promised lusts with her lips, said goodbye with her hips, Amy. She was a gift given, Amy. Her lips inspired trust, her voice aching want, Amy. She drew hearts out as a magnet, Amy. She drew spirits with ferocious fire. The sweetness. The contempt.

Get to a strong man, a weak man, a smart man, Amy figured. Make a magic wand, Amy figured. A turn of the screw, she figured. A way in, a way out. Will to will, strength to strength. Strength to weakness, guile, subtlety. Amy knew the equations well. Worked them well.

* * * * * * * * * *

Memory is a sometimes wisp of smoke, a fog that traps those who wish to run with the fires and furies of the whirlwinds that spin dangerously amidst the cunning who understand the fragility of the soul and the meanness of the spirit. There are those deep and dear and those of substance and depth are often taken for granted and given rides to test the waters of eerie endeavor and feel the heat of vile creatures.

Characters that spring upon the hidden planes of existence, hidden planes of attack may be of an interesting kind, may be of a rancid, sinister kind and play in dominance, survival, and find themselves oriented to the mysteries of life with stories following around roots and edifices, movements through time and fate. Dreams and drama induce momentous rides and searing portraits of self and season.

My world is a wanton place with playthings in long spacious corridors angling in to slice and vanquish as they present their great homage to prosperity and glitter.

She was the last best hope of daunting sin, Amy.

She drew hearts out as a magnet, Amy.

She drew spirits with ferocious fire.

Purges were purges.

Amy screwed Death for eternity and Death took Amy as his own.

Amy screwed Death for eternity and Amy took as Death her own.

Somewhere in her passions she fused with fulfillment.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

Books …… Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel …….. Lust Games: An Essay on Honor A Novel ……… Void Games: An Essay on Revenge A novel ….

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39730

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bschiff

Democracy is a nice word

Posted in Commentary, current events, dominance, Fascism, News, opinion, political science, Politics, Uncategorized with tags Anti-intellectualism, Authoritarianism, Critical thinking, Democracy, Government, media, Oligarchy, political satire, power on July 8, 2013 by B Schiff

Democracy is a nice word

Democracy is a nice word. It is the mantra and savior of all us like minded advanced folk who believe in the old dictum that it is the worse kind of political system save all others …… whether we are democratic liberal heroes or sympathizers with the holiness of it all.

Much like those who would concern themselves with the birth of a child prior to its delivery … but not after ….. the true heartfelt democrats cascading far and wide in the advanced circles of human endeavor are believers in the word, the process, the fairness of it all but care little for the making and keeping of the structures, the systems, the belief systems that would ensure that a democratically formed order of magnitude and grace would not vote itself to be the freely elected enforcers of pleasant despotism, philosopher kings, oligarchies, theocracies, final lords and masters.

Power sought is power sought. Those who are constrained by the seminal arch of the rainbow of democracy will seek power within and under the umbrella of such a lovely arch. Once in place and in positions of hallowed legitimacy there is always the path to reshape the system into a happier vehicle for the exercising of one’s own divine will.

The will to power does not a democrat make. An imbalance of powers within a system does not a democracy ensure. Democracies flourish when they are too tough to steal or when those in position to exercise the fruits of their crook-hood don’t as they have an allegiance to the sloppy, rotten system that got them there.

Don’t bet the barn on the latter.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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Self evident truths

Posted in Commentary, current events, dominance, Fascism, News, opinion, political science, Politics with tags Authoritarianism, Critical thinking, Government, media, political commentary, political satire, power, Social contract on July 7, 2013 by B Schiff

Self evident truths

Takers. Makers. Givers. Shakers.

Holders. Hostages. Witherers on the vine.

Rabble. Scrabble. Hard scrabble. Toughs.

Killers. Proprietors. Landlords. Bums.

Seekers. Rich men. Poor men. Thieves.

Holier than though. Holier than all. Holier than holy. Keepers of the score.

Rabble rousers. Mobs. Shotgun justice. Knives in the back.

Owners. Breeders. Coffin makers.

Players. Breyers. Preyers. Sneerers.

Private armies. Clubs. Chaos in the streets.

Winners. Losers. Stooges. Phantoms.

Justice. Injustice. Self preservation. Order.

Disorder. Law. Poverty. Deprivation. Feast. Famine.

Self evident truths. Survival. The social contract is a wondrous thing.

Enforced by rote. Enforced by fear. Enforced by compliance. Enforced by the whip hand.

Fight. Parry. Kill. Die. Power to the powerful. Power to the down trodden. Power to the mob. Power to the people.

State energy and resource in force. State energy and resource in forcing compliance.

Fare deal. Square deal. No deal. Revolution.

Nobody gets but dead and done if the contract is but a dream, a nightmare, a fragment of a lesser god.

It is enforced by those who can enforce it if those who can’t are dumb and foolish and lame and halt.

As we are.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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Those of the tyrannical persuasion.. The shrinking violets.

Those of the tyrannical persuasion.. The shrinking violets.

What better way for those of the tyrannical persuasion to color themselves in the hues of perfection and ambiance and wan worlds of preciousness and precociousness than to shout tyranny this and tyranny that and rail against those who would in any way mitigate their desires and callings to hate despise, clobber, disdain, break and ruin?

What better way for those of the tyrannical persuasion to color themselves in the hues of perfection and ambiance and wan worlds of preciousness and precociousness than to stand up under the flags of freedom and wish away any and all protections from evil for those not fortunate enough to be in their clubs of self important, self righteous, chest thumping thugs?

What better way for those of the tyrannical persuasion to color themselves in the hues of perfection and ambiance and wan worlds of preciousness and precociousness than to own the mantle of protector sublime, perfecter indecent and barn burner ad nauseum whilst taking all of the tools, private and public of and for enforcement and force and manipulation and false gods upon themselves and their ilk ti do with as they please?

What better way for those of the tyrannical persuasion to color themselves in the hues of perfection and ambiance and wan worlds of preciousness and precociousness than to be as mean as they come and as intimidating as they can fathom?

Might make right.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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The best and greatest signs of maturity …. Good things grow in fertile soil

Posted in Commentary, current events, dominance, News, opinion, political science, Politics with tags Authoritarianism, Critical thinking, Government, political commentary, political satire, power on July 4, 2013 by B Schiff

The best and greatest signs of maturity …. Good things grow in fertile soil

The best and greatest signs of maturity …. to give and get respect …. to act in a way worthy of honor, trust, smarts, fairness, toughness, trueness.

The best and greatest signs of maturity …. to give and get respect …. to create and to seek an environment where worthwhile exchanges can take place …. where fools get only the due that fools deserve …. where dumbness and ignorant flippishness is not celebrated with or without its intimidation factor.

The best and greatest signs of maturity …. to give and get respect ….to see more than an inch or two down the road ….. to have the strength of character and will …. the strength of tinsel steel backing up the tough straddling stance ready to keep the game safe. the society clean, the rough and tumble away from degenerate scum.

The best and greatest signs of maturity …. to give and get respect ….nothing so vacant in the world today as a politico of any stripe who knows the meaning of the word.

Respect comes from the barrel of a gun or the strength of a club …. or the force of the mob.

Welcome to the evolution of the free man and the woman of liberty. Good things grow in fertile soil.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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This is my country ….. mine … mine …. mine

This is my country ….. mine … mine …. mine

This is my country ….. land of the dove

This is my country ……. circus freaks and love

This is my country ….. dumb is the new dumb

This is my country ……… anti intellectualism is my core, my virtue, my fondles in the night

This is my country ….. this is my country ….. this is my country

My country … my country …. my country ……. gods country ……. my country …….. dumb and slum …. wicket and run … heaps of splendor in the grasses of …. this is my country ……. my property … my ownership …. my caste system …. my serfs …. my greatness …. my shining bit of hope to anyone with a brain

This is my country ….. mine … mine …. mine

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books… http://bschiff.com/

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