Category Archives: Politics

The Table of Demons


And then the man called Donald Trump was led by a spirit into the Concrete Jungle to be tempted by the Evil One. After glutting himself for 70 years, he was mildly lethargic but hungrier than ever before. The Tempter came to him and said, “If You are really as powerful as they say, tell these stones to become Cash.” The man called Donald Trump laughed in the face of the Evil One, saying, “Why, I have been doing that for years! Whatever I have asked, the great Invisible Hand of the Market has granted Me! Can’t You do any better You stupid red woman?”

The Evil One smiled demonically and then swept the man called Trump up to the tallest tower in the Unholy City. “If You are truly My Son,” he said, “throw Yourself down to the concrete below, for it is written,

‘I will command my Demons concerning You,

And They will lift You up in Their hands,

So that You will not strike Your foot against a stone.'”

The man called Donald Trump took a deep breath and, in one swift movement, dove from the top of Trump Tower. As predicted, the demons came to his aid and brought him back up to stand beside the Evil One, who then took Him to a very high altitude and showed Him all the countries of the world, and their Splendor. “All this I will give You,” he said, “since You have have not bowed down to worship anything other than Your Ego. And in Your Ego I have crystallized the most promising traits of all My Demons.”

With Frantic, Greedy, Lustful eyes, the man called Donald Trump surveyed all that was before Him.  “Come into me, Evil One, for it will be written that I will take Thy place.” Satan clawed His way up Donald’s well-tailored suit and, grasping Donald’s red tie, swung himself up through Donald’s parted lips, and, seeing the Great Combover flapping in the winds of Hell, jumped onto his tongue. With one large gulp, the man called Donald Trump swallowed him whole. All the demons of Hell crept out of the shadows to attend the man called Donald Trump. He placed them in high positions and proceeded to take what was rightfully His…

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Blaming the Victim: 8 Million Skeletons Currently in the Closet, the Rest Buried.

All over America we have heard similar stories, and if we live anywhere within thirty miles of these areas, we may have seen the wreckage, burned out homes, and boarded up storefronts. Fort Wayne, Gary, Indianapolis and Chicago are the cities of the Midwest that come to my mind. I have heard stories about Detroit as well. The story repeats itself over and over – the local industries begin to close. Those who can afford to get out get out. Those who cannot afford to, have roots to the place, or simply don’t know any better stay put. Drugs and alcohol start to become huge problems for the community. Gangs, and all the violence associated with them, begin to spring up. When the drugs and violence get out of hand, we blame these victims who have been left in the economic dust and chosen the only economically viable option: drug sales. From a purely economic standpoint, this process is thoroughly predictable. The invisible hand of the market casts its shadow across the land.

This is a very old American fable by now. In fact, this scenario underlies the very concept of America. Kill, buy, or lie the people off their land with the promise of material progress. Get the people to forgo their sustainable family, community and spiritual practices and make them dependent on the new industries. When those industries fail, these people no longer have any stable family traditions or strong communities to fall back on. They falter and the only thing that many of them have is either blind faith, drugs, or their acquired habits of consumption. It began in our relationship with the Native Americans, was forefront in the slave trade, and continues in lower-middle class America today. Sure some people get out on sports scholarships, some on academics, some on luck, but the ones that remain behind become our victims, our scapegoats, our 8 million skeletons in the closet.

We love to hear the upbeat stories of those who make it out, who pull themselves up by their bootstraps – and there are definitely those people –  and they are definitely inspiring. I do not want to make light of their overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds. But this focus on the exceptions to the rule does not address the more systemic issues: the fact that corporations have more “inalienable” rights and ultimately less liability than individuals, blatant negligence of sustainable practices on the part of government and industry in the generation of American capital, and the moral cowardice of the nation when it comes to regulating such industries as drug trade and prostitution. The sole reason the later two industries are so profitable (and so damaging) is precisely because they are unregulated.

In essence we create criminals through our economic and legislative failures, blame them for our sins as a nation, and then lock them away. Perhaps one of the most sad sights I have seen was in a little town called Whiteclay, Nebraska, where liquor stores sit perched on the edge of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation to help slake the thirst of these descendents of our original victims, who still after all these years sit dazed, drunk, and drugged from what early Americans did to the ways of their ancestors. There are no jobs, and their once vast culture continues to gasp for air. The almighty unseen hand of the market has come and gone and left them to wander in the wilderness, a third world country within our own borders. More and more of these third world countries keep cropping up, and will continue to do so until our trance is broken. Christians who want to talk about a blood sacrifice for sin, look no further than these American Reservations, Ghettos and Prisons. There is our fucking Jesus…And I am not so sure he or she would be willing to save us even if they could…