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Dominance Games: Whip Hand

Posted in current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , on July 26, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Back alley consent is easy consent.  Simple peasant villagers and serfs trot off to market.   The landscape is a simple barren thing.  The bon fires of the whip hand reap sanity.   Gazelles on horseback run away with the wind and sneer at fools trying to catch them.  The whip hand is the one that got away.

The eight by ten glossies of fire walls against chaos enhance stability.  Power and things and money and such are good hammers.  They deface an ugly backlash from the suckers.

The gentle gentry cooperate with the soothing strains of enforcement, the legitimacy of law, always coerced with the withering tales and willing stories of  lustful lusts and hateful hates.

Might makes right.  Might makes trust.  Systems function.  The trusting trust that the hammers of force and power will be wielded in a trusting way.

Imperial statehood is a show.  The  honorable consent of the honorably governed…  good simple bounty.

Ennui works well.  The holy rollers and the cynical snide love to ride out their lustful fancies.  Proud stasis is reached when the game is understood by all.

Bye bye love.  The whip hand is not for wimps.

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Dominance Games: Melt toxic

Posted in current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , on July 25, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Rat bastards and sultry party girls  know public interest.  Deficient lay persons come awash with scandal and comprehension.  The thoughts of the  fates  are the stuff of legend while public minds and group clouds make definitive statements.   Right thinking wonders are never astray while cogent minds contemplate their navels and grovel at the feet of those who know better.

Parity.  Fairness.  Xenophobia.  Heartfelt compassion.  Good people all with thin skins.  The world is not an easy place.  The whining of poor babies echoes loudly from here to the Martian sunrise.  The stiff cries of hold my hand are deafening…..and often time a counter weight.

Ideas  rip the blood of bad actors of no repute and aria singers of no legend.  Unorthodox hard edged filters of desperation protect us from the no nonsense void.  Life churns.  The humble ruminate.  The grand reflect.  The rooted sincere have no idle moments.  We all draw pretty pictures.

A pauper’s joy for the demeaning, the demonizing.  A sultry singer’s bow for the self important.  Too much the liberalizing efforts of the universal comforters.  The store gets given away to those who work it not.

The fierce battles rage on.  The rights of the group and the membership therein.  Membership is a thing open to passions and reasons and fears and such.  The melting pot of old does not always melt.  It does not always blend.  It is at mercy to the ingredients in the stew and the stew often has uncooperative parts, the main ingredients rancid, the diced additives being not of a combining kind.

Staunch defenders of the faith are oftentimes staunch defenders of the faith.  The non narrow us is the over ripe other, the suckers who sees too little too late, too much too often.

Battlegrounds.  Power is often to save face and place, often a trip for the hard relentless.  The power… never diffuse it, challenge it, break it.  Break only  enemy thine.

Cohesion not when there are prizes to be won, sacred cows to be hidden, ridden, loved for the hate engendered.  Thugs can marshal the forces of the club…bring harm and grief… trump peace and joy and love and understanding.  For any and all good peace the thugs have to be noble thugs.  We grow only noble thugs here.  Any and all good peace … good sick comedy and toxic lame.

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Dominance Games: Fierce Nation

Posted in current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , on July 24, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

So the gets are gotten.  The world is ours.  There is the surging march of the gentle tides of gentle history… the light of shining dreams and happy diversions, the constant light, the complacent light.  Happiness fulfilled.   Society successful.  Values given…. values given the toys of the boys,  whirls of the girls, the piece and prosperity of a great nation.

Let the workers and the hardy beware.  Let the stern and the staunch beware.  The right way to go about the right things is always the right way.  The earnestness with which to pursue earnest goals is the true earnestness.  Dream the dream.  It is a good dream.  It is not a dream worth waking from.  It is a sturdy little dream.  It stands for all goodly things.  It is a lustful dream full of lust for the good, lust for the right, lust for the true.  It the saving dream of those who serve.

A compact little dream this .  A compact little dream factory of a compact little dream this.  A dreamers little dreamy dream.  A dream.  The lucky little residue ours.

An honored place this little piece of heaven ours.  Of respect, of standing, of aspiration, of good aspiration.   A meaningful endeavor,  a meaningful haunt.  This portrait of achievement, our heroes, our fierce nation bows its head with respect.

The sun has given us a grand bounty of good men and women.  Nature has given us the legacy of honest men.  We sit atop a bastion of a prize of working, sincere souls offering their all with the honor and decency of soldiers on the fields of battle.

There are only good and noble dreams walking.  There is only our belated success.  We have now a governing coalition of the wise, the responsible, the charitable, the true.  We, in our rests, know ourselves to be in the grand hands of the competent.  Warm and fuzzy are our thoughts and comforts as we curl in our repose.

God bless our keepers.  Arrogant dreams and righteous bores.

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Dominance Games: Power corrupts

Posted in current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , on July 22, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Power corrupts.  It corrupts mightily and famously.  It corrupts hedonisticlaly, morally, severely. It turns virtue on its head and relegates expression to a game.

Power fuels the laundered images of fear and the abject lack of restraint.  Power goads and practices, flails and takes what it takes.  It can be a serene thing  it can be a strong thing, a mocking thing, a self satisfied thing.

Power can shine like a beacon, drop like a stone, crush like a runaway truck.  It lures.  It calls.  It wants.  It produces sweet songs to calm the ear, sweet reason to sack the instincts.  It may turn away from its prey and seem to be something else, a trivial thing that hides itself  from challenges and flies sweetly from inspection.

Power knows.  It sweats.  It works very very hard.  It knows itself.  It knows its dupes.  It glorifies all.

Power rides the tall horse.  It beats with a whip.  It smacks with delight, hisses with a sneer.  Power coddles the beast of intentions.  It coddles the war horse of inclinations.  It answers to itself and laughs.

Power chides.  It raises high its mighty sword.  It is useful unto itself.  It has to depend not on the good offices, good wishes, good works of others.  Power dictates.  Its game and lightening bolts will survive.  Its victims will not.

Trust always those with power.  They learn how to use it.

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Dominance Games: Swords emasculating

Posted in current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , on July 20, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

The moods moody.  The lights misty.  The dancing seals dancing.  Blood sport sporting.  Kill sport killing.  Derision sport deriding.  They damned well like it.

Commentary as machete for the lazy and the rich. Toys to be abused for the ones who take wings off of flies.  Hateful hates.  Vile devils.  Deemed demons.  They damned well love it.

Hope is for those who work at something.

Trips to lovers lane are guaranteed those who look mighty and brave in their mirrors of choice.  Mouths mouthing, egos flaunting, dunces duncing, tantrums wailing…… no childhoods end.  They damned well love it.

Trendy rackets and self immolation.   They damned well love it.  More the thrill of erotic passion.  They damned well love it.  More the vivid.  More the emasculating.  More the basically simpleton;s simple.  They damned well love it.

Self inflation, self importance, self flagellation, self satisfaction….. the show of them forever.  Great wars of swords and sorcerers they play.   Chargers chargers.  Heroes heroing blithely saving fair maidens from any undesirable greatness.

Zoos come and go and animals act up and perform and there is comfort in the love.  Tactics.  Tougher.  Stronger.  More evocative of pain.

The bating bated, the hate hated, the smarms smarmed.  The fight enjoined.  Odiousness …. the smell of flowers…. the all purpose passport.  Thine self holy, wise, noble and good.  Fondle the love.

I think they like it.  They damned well love it.

Screech.  Screech.  Shrill.  Shrill.  Color tawdry and putrid.  Enemies divine. They play good and they kiss their shadows.  Power allows.

Night is coming.  The dreams of all good people are coming.  The rough hewn sleeve rollers are coming.  Get thrown under the bus and to the wolves.

Love makes to play dirty.  Sincerity makes to implore noble tricks of the trade.  Speak loudly and club the bastards to death.  Taste the taste… blood lust, blood sport, blood.

Some are better at it than others.  The real joys of politics.

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Dominance Games: Barbed wire

Posted in current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , on July 19, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Into nether world jobs they go.  Whistling and skipping and wailing and scheming,  swords of mighty justice they are.  The usual exchangeable parts who fit the slots and make noxious noise they are.  Hordes of independence, realism and thinkers, seers and lemmings swooning gracefully.   Good searing hacks can enjoy the laughter of achievement and ritual, attainment and lobotomy, speciousness and tripe.

The virtue in the weak sisters and the hairy apes.  The rank prancers, the  weak dittos?  Love all the damned all the damned time.

The masters of mirth, the procurers of entertainment, the light show, the tinder box.  The answer to questions not asked, the question to answers not given.  They appear and disappear.  The phantasms of dimension, the spines of the spineless.  They endure mightily as they are unendurable.  They are the free thinking potted, rotted plants.

They are special.  They are coy.  They think.  They act.  They feel and maim.  They promise to promise.   They promise promise.  They promise to be alive.  They promise.  Base blase full of vim.  As valuable as a post they are.  As approachable as as the barbed wire toppings on their fenced in predispositions they are.  Flags around their shoulders,  the aura of Miss Liberty they are.

Hard scrabble worth and abundant luminescence, they are.  Voice, privilege, moonstruck mountains they are.  A  mound of dirt and a pile of rubble  upon which to sink they are.  The  strong special grifters grifting well with rocks and stones they are.   Cream rising to the top they are.  The bats in the belfry they ate.  Great movements and dead brains they be.

The solid frenzy of empty, void.  Faith, hope and charity they are.  a show they are.  All show all the time they are.  Can’t close out of town….. to damned humble they are.

Bless the beasts and the children.  If I only had a brain.

Its nice to have injected thoughts.  Spares the head muscles.

The sun don’t shine where there are shades of gray.

Gray is dull.  Like me.

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Dominance Games: Gigolo and princess

Posted in current events, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , , on July 18, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Just a gigolo and the pimp…. the princess and the madame….and all the lame damned fools who fall for them, cede to them, bow at the feet of them so damned often, so damned wisely and so damned well.

Elections are for suckers.  Listening is for the self loathing.

Sometimes you see a dance step you’ve seen a thousand times before and its just a damned dance step.  Sometimes you a dance step you’ve seen a thousand times before and its  a damned whirlwind of warped motion and preening vapors.  Sometime things go bump in the night and sometimes things get so that one more dollop of the same old same old can cause one to tremble with the bends and have seizures of anguish at the thought.

How useless is useless.  The first best scourge of the emissaries from hell is prefabricated noxious sounds that makes spectators dirty and creepy when forced to be in any close proximity…… the automatons of political sneering scare away all known intelligent life.

Nimble minds please nimble feet and nimble feet retrieve phantom futures.  Our America means hard knocks and tough brawling; means no crying, no self pity, no banality; a tough country but a hard one.  Freedom means earn it day after day.  Freedom to be of stern stuff and bold charity… not for show, not for value.

The deft secure hard put interests of survival through the eye of a needle.   The passionately frugal must be preserved.  We fight for real things.  We do.

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Dominance Games: Painted women

Posted in current events, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , , on July 16, 2011 by B Schiff

Important metrics of behavior are all wisps in the wind.  Gone.  Reason, stature, a shadow … it is now reported.  Cry baby, cry.  Tears baby, tears.  Play baby, play.  Be baby, be.

Store bought wraps wrap around store bought men, painted woman.  Rotten candy comes as sweet gifts of our betters.  Be good and give early and often, the depths of your soul.  Be good and buy early and often, the stories of your heart.  Be squalid and vote early and often, thankfully taken to your place in the sun.

Balance power early and often.  View rough justice, principle floating in the winds with the vapors of civilized history, the trials of insouciant thought and defining principle, the backbone of  daunting things.

Use baby, use.  Be used, babe, be used.  The regal.  The royal.  The sublime.  In the court of rough justice damned fools know plays and problems  jokers can’t define.  The logical structure of idea is an academic fantasy.  Better just shoot to kill.

The power metric favors the aggressor.  Set ups for ever.  Power is power and the business of power is power and the business of the business of power is power.  The back bites are always huge.  Forget other things.

Fairness.  Temperance.   Demeanor.   Cool.

Tolerance.  Tradition.  The  sullen hammer.  The respect.

Blessed are those of woefully uncommon common sense.  Tis fear all about.  The taut and tight.  Tis the bright light of morality shining and defining.

Champion aggrieved hedonistic moralizing slashes down as graceful swans turn ugly ducklings over night.  Power speaks with forked tongue.  Power wrests itself from them that cannot fathom it.

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Dominance Games: The put upon

Posted in current events, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , , on July 15, 2011 by B Schiff

For viewing pleasure there are always the perfect villains and perfect fools of the corridors of power using the levers that they hold in order to work things out in ways workable.  Checks and balances work in so far as there is the ability to execute.  Laws, after all, are just means to direct the execution of the power of the state.  With the governed increasingly unwilling to abide by the sanctions of the state directions lead to one of two outcomes.  Either a tightening of force or the grip of the powerful or the fragmentation of power without cohesive structure or finely tuned apparatus to enforce unknowable rules and standards.

The games may be different in different places and systems but the principle is the same.  No agreement on an umbrella political structure gives way to the savageries of power plays and power grabs.  Corruption is not corruption.  It becomes the order of disorder with, in the extremes , the order of death.

Fragmented views of society are wished for by those in opposition to the order that is.  Push too far and hoped for new orders become no order what so ever.  Allegiances to cohesion are hard allegiances when corrupting power wanes out of control.  Allegiances to fraction and divisiveness are not attractive measures when they invite  a broken world without recourse to fixing.  A non lethal state can be mended best from within.  A lethal state invites the danger of getting better or worse.

Firebrands would do well to judge the level of real toxicity prior to sinking their ships of state.  Puzzlers ponder answers, define not questions.  The powers of those in the catbirds seat always trump rage and rant.

The self interest of the fears and cries of the put upon is dear.  Perceptions  are often eternally skewed.  Perceptions of power bases are often eternally skewed.  Readings of power bases are often eternally flawed.

In the rush to build government, the rush to build equity, firmness grabs often by the  short hairs.  Whom gets whom by them, the short hairs? The world is the world of unintended consequence.  Who rages for these, the unintended consequence?  Those who risk too much for too little or those who risk too little for too much.  Lasting fancy and gifts from the devil make martyrs out of the righteous.  The righteous put much good in play and much good in jeopardy.  Judgement is a hard to come by commodity.  Laws may be a sham.  Too much fracture and the trust of the populace is lost.  Too little and is is co-opted.

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Dominance Games: Lust driven fancies

Posted in current events, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , , on July 14, 2011 by B Schiff

We beg the grim reaper to not waste our poor little lives.  We watch the angels as they watch over us.  We watch the little devils…they that saunter about and just come from every which where to tell us that they shine and will be our answered prayers.

We have our little lusts.  They have our little lusts.  We have our little  depravities.  They have our little depravities.   We are bold in manner, strong in virtue.  They just want to know the nobility of our character.   We just want our dear little selves spread around for all to see and know.  They will love us to death.  We will give money to strangers,  our lives to the depraved.  They will take it and do with it as they see fit.

We lust for composure in a void.  They wish us no void, tell us no tale, love the ones they are with…us …always us….always lucky little us.   We marvel at the variety and depravity of  life’s blood…. sins unapplauded, unwanted.  They suck sin as life’s milk, manufacturing the right mix of joy and steely eyed disdain.  No more lust driven fancies.  No more fun.

The pleasure of the deeply held perversion of not wishing a mind mucked with incessant trash is gone with the wind.  The pleasure of deeply the held perversions of lusting to be not in the company of boorish grinds is a spectator sport to be attacked by the thought police and the enemies of my soul… let me entertain my enemies.

Let me give my lustful fantasies to others to enjoy.  They will  harbor sacred noxious fumes.  They deserve it.  They need their thrills and fancies.  They need their nourishment….. their little hatreds, their taught logic, reason, discourse; the age of the Enlightenment they constantly honor and indulge.  I need their prurient interest, the great arena of shared experience, the oh so recognized theater of the primed absurd that allows me to exist to be used by them.

Reap the wild dirge of rapscallion fancy….and be better wonders for it.   Reap the wild wind together and know  the breeze in the trees….the pains of the gains, the crud of the stealing of us, the  cheep thrills and good shopping.

Tawdry and good and fun and done..the passing panorama.  The product of me is packaged.  Sold, bought, used, exploited, mashed and broken down just so the dumb can get to speak.

The main character, the star of the constant story of our dreary little lives is the product of us…. a weak product unable to get out of the way 0f the cursory infants that corrupt our lives.

I liked it better when there were just hidden cameras and bugs in my bedroom.  There was a nice cozy sense of security there.  Now they want my reason, my soul, my freedom to think good thoughts.  I live in a world where the calmness of reflection is punishable by instant insanity and mass stoning.

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