Saturday, August 31, 2013

who fiddled while what burned?

Thank God the trigger  our Peace-Prize Prez has an itchy finger upon isn't a hairy one. 
Sweet Zeus – what is this maniac thinking? Better inquiry: who has what on this man? There must be polaroids of his mom blowing a camel while DP'd by cocaine-crazed Saudi sheiks in the hands of a nefarious group of part men, part lizards who require the blood of young humans to be spilled en mass and catastrophic mayhem in order to subsist. If he does not their bidding, those images - plus more fit for neither man nor beast to lay eyes upon - shall reach all major news outlets and worse yet: TMZ and Yahoo! News and Twitter feeds the world over. That is the only explanation – unless he is a replicant engineered and trucked out by rogue ritalin habitués of DARPA under strict orders by the Security/Military/Banking/Monsanto/Complex to cause the Jenga tower of Babel to collapse so they can don their polished armor,  strut on in and be perceived by the hot chick (who sat at the desk in front of them and could never get with) as “heroes”. I see no other logic, other than that. Perhaps if we brandish Occam's razor, and vie for the most simple explanation, we may conclude thus: they are power junkies who could care less if the planet burns to the core, so long as they get their fix, and let those within light-shot of our planet who might give two shits know that they are in command. Yes sir.

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