Tuesday, January 24, 2012

THE BEATEN GENERATION: The Dick Principle (Chapter 4)

by Dick of All Dicks & Poli Tico

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS, SOURCES OF QUOTATIONS IN THE NOVEL: Fortune, Time, New York Times, Washington Post; Guardian, Independent, Daily Mail, Sun, Telegraph; Rue89, Le Figaro, Le Parisien, Liberation, L'Humanite, L'Equipe; De Telegraaf, Volkskrant, Geenstijl; Die Burger (South Africa); Stern, Die Zeit, Der Spiegel; La Stampa, Corriere della Sera, Il Giornale, Libero, La Repubblica, Il Manifesto; Pravda, Novaya Gazeta; El Pais, ABC, Vanguardia; Tages Anzeiger; O Globo; Sidney Morning Herald; Clarin; As-Sharq Al-Awsat; Hongkong Standard; Strait Times; Hindustan Times. All the financial data were from New York, London, Singapore & Zurich finance sources. We used real economic data, or scientifically projected if in the future.

I will release an ebook online after the completion of its serialization before the end of the year. Some chapters will be reconstituted to their longer original form. Donald is translating it into Mandarin & Arabic while I myself will be translating it into French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Russian, German, Dutch & possibly Afrikaans (related to Dutch). I've started with the first 3, simultaneously.

Chapter 4: Tales of Highly-Evolved Has-Beens

"Meebesturen doet pijn. We hebben pijnlijke ombuigingen moeten accepteren"
Geert Wilders, Dutch politician, PVV

"... But at the risk of enraging all the feminists the world over, here goes. I want a great love. I want to disappear into the sunset with my soulmate. I want to walk down the aisle again wearing an ivory dress with my knight in shining armor...
Liz Jones, British journalist

"Je préfère mes filles à mes nièces, mes nièces à mes cousines... "
Marine Le Pen, French politician, FN

"...e il momento della concorrenza"
Mario Monti, Prime Minister, Italy

January 15, 2012 Hong Kong

Overthink and you'll find yourself on the moon. There's no way to return to reality but to take the plunge down...

Perhaps, by 3000 AD, the future earthlings would call it the "Western Spring". They will most likely look back almost wistfully to the idealistic innocence & would sigh as if remembering the mischief of forgotten childhood pranks- "They really believed they could outwit their animal genes!"

It's dangerous, he thought, to assume that evolution could only be a straightforward process. Mutations litter the genetic pool at its wake. It is degenerative evolution that creates cancers. Cancers kill. Often, cancer is dealt with denial. What if it's already Stage 3? Irradiation? Surgery? Certainly, chemotherapy won't be enough anymore. How about wishful thinking?


Hsu looked at the breathtaking array of skyscrapers along the harbor. It was audacious, fearless British men who planted the seeds of that spectacular concrete wall. How time flies. What happened... something neutered along the way?

January 15, 2012 Los Angeles

Love trumps them all.

Something shrill within her brain, like a menopausal spinster aunt, was screaming it was terribly wrong but she's just so happy. It couldn't be wrong if she felt like dancing in heaven. No, not heaven, she was supposed to be an atheist, but... Oh, she was just happy, period. Words. Words. Go away, words. Drown me, happiness. Take my soul, my body, my whole being, away into your arms...

All her life, Tina fought for something. She deserved this break. All her life, her mind worked tirelessly to combat life's injustices, but she now only wanted to flow with the tide of sensuous feelings flooding every fiber of her being. She's 50 for Godsakes, she deserved all the love she could still squeeze from life (she actually noticed she used the word "God" there but she was so flowing with good feelings... who cares... ).

Stella was aghast. "You're flushing your principles down the toilet, lady! You're a backward woman! Shame on you!"

"I'm just so happy, Stella!" She was so happy she didn't mind the askew eyelashes of Stella. Probably cheap like always, made in Nigeria?

"How can you lose your head over a man, much less to a younger man. Twenty years older! And he makes you giggly as if you were a little girl! You have no self-respect, you're a shame to all self-respecting women on the earth, you're a degenerate, you just signed your green card to the dumpster, you know that?" Gosh, Stella's shoes was cracking. Didn't she buy that only last week? Obviously cheap again, made in Uganda?

Then Stella regained her cool, sighed, then calmly looked at her."Anyway, we will be busy this week. I bet you'll regain your sanity by Friday." She strode to her desk. Tina saw something awry with the hem of the dress of Stella but she checked herself this time. What for?... happiness should prevail today. She could be the most magnaninous highly evolved person on earth when happy. She already knew her friend was a cheap hick from Omaha. All her political immersions really never lifted her much from the farm. She could never overwrite what was written in her genes. Poor Stella, bad taste forever.

"We have to write that Australian athlete. She used the word Faggot in her twitter. Ray from the Gay Glorification League called our help." Stella immediately assumed her "in serious business" look.

"Isn't her twitter her private affair?" Tina was fair when she was happy. Her usual knee-jerk anti-oppression mechanism would lose the code for "pretentious" from its program.

"Tina, we determine what is private or not. If we let our guard down, all the backward people of the world won't get civilized! We seek them out in their holes if we have to!"

"Can't the Aussies do it themselves?"

"You know, Aussies are provincials. They would be so honored to receive anything from the States that they won't even notice it was a reprimand, they'd just feel so blessed they would follow suggestions immediately. It would be a letter from God to them."

"Do we have to pressure the company too? What if they discover we only have a sword of Damocles but our swords are their ignorance & gullibility? "

" It's their fault they are ignorant & gullible. We are not. If low-lifes were not inflicted with real damage, they won't learn the lesson. They will only lose big money anyway, unlike during the Inquisition when they would have been burned at the stake. We are a kinder, highly-evolved beings now, you see, no longer the barbarians in the Middle Ages. We still judge unilaterally, we still punish unilaterally, but we don't burn even their shoes!" Stella was on a roll. She now stood & walked to & fro in front of her desk unmindful of her askew eyelash, her cracked shoes, the ... God, she was really a hick! "We employ the same heartless arbitrary methods, true, but we are on a higher moral ground. We define ourselves what is a high moral ground, of course, & nobody has a right to question that! We are intellectuals, we are the good guys, they just have to accept that! Imagine, the Inquisition barbarians were doing it for a God which couldn't have possibly even existed. We're doing it for compassion, for the betterment of man... so that men could evolve properly. That uncivilized athlete will only lose a million but she should thank us for civilizing her. We're the guardians of civilization, as if the Australians didn't already know that!"

She thought, if only the Aussies could have seen Stella looked no better than a kangaroo. A letter not from God but from Queen Roo. Oh God, the askew eyelash fell off & Stella didn't even notice, so engrossed with her declamation. God, help me I don't laugh, I don't want to humiliate my friend.

"Let's humiliate all the lowly-evolved men on the face of the earth. Let's shame them so they have no recourse but to choose evolution, our evolution. I just contacted Charlie at CNN to help, Ray can't contact him because they have a spat."

"What happened?" she forgot the disappearing act of Tina's eyelashes. If truth be told, she loved gossip more than her political theories.

"They pulled each other's hair over a waiter."

She was at a loss on what to laugh at- what Stella said or her glaring eyelash-free eye.

"I told Ray he was a lowly-evolved insect. But in a sweet way. Gays are still handy. They are a lost cause, of course, but we need them as scarecrows to the Right. Besides their money, of course! The Right just couldn't stomach them & how I love to see their faces when we taunt them with our scarecrows. "

Tina tuned out right there. Tony told her a secret: Stella's old husband made a pass at him when the boys both got stoned at a party the other night. She pitied her friend so much so she just let Stella rant while she congratulated herself with her luck. A real man... a young real man, at that! She just wanted to be alone with her good feelings. She only wanted to think of Tony's face. That heart-rendingly beautiful face with the achingly lonely eyes. She found him lurching from relationship to relationship & it's taking its toll to his soul, to his body. He didn't have to seek solace from drugs & alcohol anymore. She was there now to take care of him. She'll restore him again to the dashing knight of shining armor that he should be. All the drugs & alcohol have deranged his sexual capacity but she's up to the challenge. When you love someone, you have to love all his imperfections. When she found Tony, she found her greatest mission. She just bought the sexiest negligee, it cost one-fourth of her salary. She will buy the most expensive perfume later this afternoon, she just borrowed from her sister Peggy.

Her fingers had a mind of their own. She read what they just wrote in her cellphone. I love you baby! She pressed SEND.

January 15, 2012 Los Angeles

Everybody inside the office was surprised when they saw Tony suddenly run towards the toilet as if chased by a hungry ghost. The retches echoed down the corridors.

January 15, 2012 Hong Kong

They thought they would fly up forever. Blind compassion could be a carcinogenic pretension.

Hsu sighed. Men go out of the house or they would go crazy with the tattle of the women. What if the women wanted to take their tattle outside to the men? The men should be sensitive to their tattle, some wise persons who loved to tattle told them they have a right to insist to tattle anywhere. But then they thought, wouldn't it be better if they just tried to be men themselves instead? Something must be done with nature's injustice. Human was a special animal because he had brains after all. And a mouth capable of spitting rapidfire intelligible words. If they couldn't be all physically strong, wouldn't it be more fair if they just all tattle merrily every time instead? What were the words again? Ah, equality! Modern civilization! Words can't kill, everybody could evolve into a higher evolutional form if they all touched their supersensitive feminine side at the same time & just tattle to each other, men, women, everyone. A softer society won't think of wars. Ergo, Modern Man should, by default, be soft?

He snorted.

The ancient Greek gays only had their gift of gab to have their way with the ruling class. The "great philosophers" had to be wise talkers to engineer requiring all the beautiful Greek youths to be naked in the gymnasium where they could pretend to "civilize" the boys. Plutarch twitted them, argued conjugal love was better for society than pederast love. But it was cool if they just argued, words couldn't kill, let them talk, they could continue pretending "civilizing" the naked youths anyway & thus have their way. But alas, even before Christianity arrived, a stronger army occupied them & all the pretenders were all swept away. Later Europeans (most were probably gay, he suspected) discovered Greek democracy could be promising to their designs. No, there's going to be no supreme power of the people, to them they simply were higher forms who should be vigilant over the the lower ones, be they be the voter or the voted. Let's form a higher civilization. The world needs intellectuals but they should be like us to count. Let's call them Our Intellectuals those who could duplicate the feat of the ancient tattlers. If before they only had mouths, now we have media, Hollywood, political organizations, high-technology... Let's form an elite dictatorship of intellectual & political correctness so we could control the tattle! There is no equality in the use of brains, you see. The unwashed & the brutes would never learn to appreciate the delicate Poetry of a Word, much less the fragile sophistication of Art. We are the light. High civilization would be ours! We, the Our Intellectual tattlers will be the vigilant power behind the thrones. Because we are real intellectuals, see?

But what if their saliva dried out & they suddenly found out they became poor subsidizing lubrication for their mouths? Pretend they were civilized anyway? But here's the dilemma: how could a higher-evolved civilized being pretend now if he's relegated to play the second lead to barbarians?

In a gathering, an American Leftist told him it would be better if America ceased being a world power so real democracy could prosper. Hsu again snorted. How people who consider themselves intelligent could be so naive: they try to fit the world to their rhetorics & wishful thinking, he concluded. If America lost its economic predominance, Western democracy would lose its "face" forever. Straight into the scrap heap of history. They will be shamed into self-immolation by the mocking laughter around their bunkers. People respect winners. What's the term again? Has-been. Who takes a previously arrogant "has-been" seriously anyway? If they were any intelligent, would they want more of the same after all the degradation? Any human endeavor, worthwhile or delusional, is temporary. Only two people were killed in Ohio State to stop the counterculture. But no, China won't have to attack anybody. Everybody would be drawn to China instead. This was not a Communism vs. Capitalism battle of the Cold War, the West would be beaten on its own game. It was a battle for the viable form of Capitalism.

And the right society to go with it.

Left, Center, Right? Lol. That's a Western concept. How about China going back to its roots?

He heard from his godfather, the richest man in Hongkong, that some wily big American capitalists financed leftist organizations so the big mouths could get caught up in their breast-thumping little squabbles while the big minds be left to do the bigger thing of ensuring the prosperity of a society where everybody were free to tattle. Never did they expect to slip with the ensuing flood of saliva. Mere tattle could knock out a softened civilization.

Emasculation for the price of a delusion are for losers, and he was sure the Chinese were winners. They've waited for a thousand years and practically won except for the in-denial tattling. That's evolution.

Once again he looked at the spectacular concrete wall beside the harbor & felt sad about some really audacious British men in the not so distant past.

I apologize, my friends... high civilization would be ours...

NEXT : Chapter 5

A cuore scalzo- Max Gazze (Italia)

Un giorni credi - Edoardo Bennato (Italia)

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

THE BEATEN GENERATION: The Dick Principle (Chapter 3)

by Dick of All Dicks & Poli Tico

NOTE: Is it a mere thriller? I suggest read it as a political satire written on a psychiatrist's journal instead. The serial killing is just the file cover.
To those who use mobile readers like Pulse: they only catch the first texts published, but as you know, our articles evolve in form throughout the week. We usually do post-publication editing a few days after an article has already been published by the poster just to rectify publishing errors so you might not be getting the preferred texts if you relied on mere mobile readers. To those who have them copied by their female secretaries (culprits: some heterosexual newsmen, I was told), tell them to copy it 3-4 days after the publication date. Better, read the website, just use Hidemyass for privacy. Please recheck the copies you already have at hand.

Chapter 3

" Je ne suis pas sûr que ma vision du monde soit une idéologie. Je n'aime pas les idéologies. Avec elles, ce n'est pas la pensée qui s'adapte au monde mais le monde qu'on tord pour qu'il ressemble au système de pensée.
François Bayrou, French politician, MoDem

"I have the people, therefore, I have the ideology so, world, listen to me!"-
Tina Ford, human rights worker cum serial killer

A cute Dutch word

January 15, 2012 Sochi, Russia

Not your usual evolution. It was mutation, he decided.

Western democracy started in Greece. The fact Greece was about to jump into the economic abyss just about summed up everything. History chose no better symbol, he thought.

Once again he looked at the report he just finished reading. He pursed his lips as if suppressing a smile but his eyes betrayed his amusement.

It was a recurrence of the "Raissha" Syndrome, he concluded. The minute the wife of the last Communist Czar of the Soviet Union started being conscious of her coiffure & designer dress in her photo ops for the Western press, he knew something was wrong. The Gorbachevs were so pathetically tickled pink by the feigned adulation in the West that they forgot they were supposed to be leaders of a Communist state. Same thing happened with that icon of provinciality, Boris Yeltsin. He was sad to admit it but he believed Russians, by nature, have the psychodynamics of peasants who light up at the slightest attention from city folks. Especially if it's from the Western media or, more inferiority complex-inducing, the international jet set. They still haven't wrapped their brains over the concept of "a patronized hick". They buy the biggest yachts in the West, they buy the most expensive real estate in London, they buy sport clubs. At a time when Western Europe was disintegrating, it never occurred to the fools they were trying to impress the has-beens. By 2011, as gauged from Gross-National Product by Purchasing-Power Parity, Russia was already the wealthiest country of Europe, the fourth in the world after the US, China, Japan. Just 20 years after throwing out the Communists. It became so during his watch & he knew majority of the Russians recognized that. It still had a wide room to grow while the rest of Europe were just waiting to collapse. The Russians are a great people if only they learned to impress themselves & not measure themselves thru the eyes of the next batch of losers, he sighed. His sources in New York emphatically told him it's just a matter of time all of Southern Europe would default on their loans. That only meant one thing, & just like kissing a beautiful blond girl, he liked it.

Dimitri should have been wiser but apparently the fool has never forgotten he came from a small hamlet in the Urals. He didn't doubt the fifth richest of the Russian billionaires got infected with the "Raissha" syndrome while lapping up the patronizing adulation of the new poor in London high society. The moron wrote in a London daily about the need for change in Russia when it has never been in a better stead than its perennial European rivals in the modern times. Need to be a modern European democracy when all the old European democracies were collapsing? What a joke, he almost laughed. Fanning the smoke to produce the illusion there's a big fire of clamor for change when there's a hard-pack of snow everywhere in Russia won't work anymore. After the Color Revolutions, which swept up the former Eastern Bloc earlier, ended up producing nothing & leading to hilarious reversals like the eventual incarceration of that Ukrainian political whore, Yulia Timoshenko, only the Potemkin states like the old Western European states would hang on to such wishful thinking. At a time when they were about to implode, the only way they could salvage their self-respect was to wish that others should implode with them... but alas, those other people have bigger futures. Ah, why even bother musing over yesterday's gimmicks, he chided himself: impromptu people's organizations are dime a dozen & he had more money than his enemies to create them, or destroy them.

The American billionaire looked at him. "He wrote it in a London newspaper not already owned by a Russian billionaire", he said in Russian. A brief deadpan, then as if suddenly realizing the irony of what he said, he guffawed.

He, too, couldn't control a hearty guffaw.

"And a leftist paper at that," again the American burst off with another round of belly-shaking mirth.

He joined in the fun. "He probably got tired proving he had billions, I bet he wanted to experience how to pretend to be an intellectual too!"

"Right choice of company! Leftists just love pretending they were intellectuals to justify to themselves why they were such big losers!"

Again a staccato of hearty laughter, more sustained this time. The American's laugh was naturally infectious. Their laughter sonorously echoed throughout the cavernous room with the floor-to-ceiling picture windows framing the snowy mountains in the distance. Which probably heard them because a big section on its eastern slope suddenly heaved like a belly convulsed with laughter, so vigorously it collapsed into the first big avalanche for the new year in the area.

The American billionaire was the twelft richest in America circa 2012, Herbert William Caldwell II. He inherited billions from his father who was the second richest American when this was still alive but he parlayed them ten times over with his investments in oil & other commodities. The elder Caldwell, an old-style capitalist, created a foundation in the 1980's during the most heated moments of the Cold War that had as its avowed mission to help mankind. It was along that vision that his trustees created Human Rights Protection Monitor, which became the most aggressive among the many leftist-led human rights organizations in the world.

January 15, 2012 Los Angeles

Tony glanced at the small screen of his Blackberry:

I can't wait for tonight. I'm wet already, are you?

From Tina, his British girl friend who worked for a human rights organization.

He didn't bother to respond. He felt a vague wave of nausea instead, but he immediately suppressed it. She had been a dependable beard but increasingly, all he could feel for her now was total repulsion.

It's been 6 months now of feigning that his inconsistent erection was due to his addiction or drunkenness. It was turning into a drag but he was wary of losing her just yet. He might not be able to find another woman as easily duped as her. True, he needed the extra benefits (aka money) though she couldn't hand out much, she's hard-up herself. Their twenty-year difference he saw it as a boost to his liberal credentials (I am breaking all the old-fashioned cultural straitjackets, baby!) But of course, he wasn't saying the real reason, that he merely needed a beard when the last young girl left him because she found better sex elsewhere & Tina was a well-preserved cougar just waiting for any man to save her from a lonely middle-age. He was right in assuming European women were more liberated but he was surprised how docile they actually were. The desperation of creeping old age? This one took pride in mouthing she was a feminist but she was completely under his control. She had to do all the job of making him hard without ever complaining, much less realizing she was just a low-intensive stimulus to him (he actually snapped at her once when he was drunk & he still wouldn't harden up after an hour of manipulation,"You're already old, lady, so pay your dues!" He sure made her guilty she was the reason, but she persevered nonetheless each time. He was just drunk or stoned, see?). The few times he readily got an erection, he was thinking of the last jack-off buddy he just had a secret tryst with in some motel somewhere.

Nobody knew his secret. Not even the two fags in the office. He worked for a website which had the illusion to bill itself as an online liberal magazine. Their main thrust was to pretend they were arbiters of cultural cool, & as the only self-identified straight man in the small staff, he was tasked to write about his "cool" encounters with fags. In actual life, he couldn't remember he ever had a cool encounter with one. It was total revulsion with fags ever since. He decided long ago the problem wasn't homosexuality because men have always done & will always do anything if it's delicious to them. Sex was better if shrouded in mystery anyway & the last thing you wanted to lift the mystery were fags themselves. Just imagine entering a room expecting to have the best sex of your life then upon switching the light, you see a naked fag waiting for you splayed writhing on the bed. That thought always gave him the creeps. No way could political action make a cross-eyed lady desirable to the most ordinary dude with an intact vision. Same banana with fags. He dated men but he preferred to score by posting at Craiglist: A straight man wants to meet another straight man as jack-off buddy, & some possible blow-jobs ... He would really have preferred a real straight man but his low salary forced him to make do with the nearest available variety, what he called the "straights for the poor". Just steel his stomach for the meantime, no choice. Meanwhile, he could make use of the "cool" pretension to up his stature with his present crowd which he knew was into all kinds of big-time pretension (social, political, personal, name it) just like him. He needed the job.

Again, a beep from his Blackberry.

Another text message from Tina.

I love you, baby.

Christ! he cursed. He actually shivered with disgust. One more & I'll vomit!

Next :Chapter 4

Since discovering The Doors, I've been on a revival binge. Another treasure, from 1991.

You- Ten Sharp (Netherlands)

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

INTERMISSION: Why Do Gays Always Sashay Noisily Just Before The End of a Civilization?

JJ Engelbrecht

I wrote a novel about a year ago but I almost never got around to finishing it. This blog might have been started as a prank among bored friends, but in writing it, I eventually discovered along the way that I might have some writing skill after all. A belated realization actually (though modesty aside, I suspected it all along, I just never was inspired to develop writing as a profession). So I tried writing a novel almost capriciously on my few spare time. I think I have created a very fascinating (& very original) thriller character, Tina Ford, a human rights fighter cum serial killer, but I was pressed for time then, I almost never got around to see it completed. Until later, suddenly I had lots of free time when I stopped my manhunt expeditions after my sexual conversion into heterosexuality (& a subsequent serious relationship with my present girlfriend). I'm now really a heterosexual, I am now “slightly” (to be diplomatic) repulsed by the gay topics I used to & still have to discuss here, sad to say. But though I've been publishing only once a week now since my sexual conversion nearly a year ago, this blog is still the biggest recourse for lovers of straight men in the web so it would be a waste to throw it away just like that. Many still have the same journey. Many still send pictures just to convince me to publish daily again like in its heyday (I mostly publish Rugby pics as concession to the Brits who sent more than half of those featured here). So I decided we'll just serialize the novel, better so I don't have to think about Muscle Mary's every week. Delilah will take care of the beefcake images. Poli is the publisher & co-author. We're serializing the original novel but I wove over it a satirical take on the current political landscape. It just enhanced the surreal but fascinating adventure of Tina Ford.

Thus, our novel "The Beaten Generation" was born.

There are gay characters, but just like in real life, they play minor roles, just to dress up the story. This is a political thriller which delves on the bigger forces which shape the events of the world in a particular juncture of its evolution, or mutation, if you may. The current gay politics is just a symptom of a bigger malaise that is bedeviling the system. Behind the glitz & the boa (the delusions), it's steadily imploding underneath. If ever, the best metaphor that comes to mind which could best represent the formerly rich Western civilization is a flamboyant aging drag queen who is still sizzling on the spotlight but in reality was on the last ropes of a drug-filled downsliding life. Why do gays always appear very prominent during the end of a civilization be it in Sodom, Greece, Rome? This novel isn't about that but the background where it played out will be similar territory. It isn't anti-anyone, it is anti-delusion. Gays have always been here but when something (or someone) leads them to sashay into delusions, history tends to vomit that particular civilization.

Johann Sadie

Morne Steyn

Jean Cook

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

THE BEATEN GENERATION: The Dick Principle (Chapter 2)

by Dick of All Dicks & Poli Tico

Chapter 1: Anti-Pretentiousnessism here

Chapter 2: Post-Delusionalism

December 29, 2020 White House

Two more days & it's official. The United States won't be the same anymore. New York & California would be cast off & won't be allowed back to the union if they didn't meet certain minimum conditions. They both turned into bankrupt deadweights after the Great Fall, they sapped voraciously the resources of the other states just to maintain them in financial intensive care & the few remaining credible financial analysts pronounced them "not viable as independent states". Worse, majority of the states judged them "morally execrable" & won't be allowed back if they didn't "atone for their sins", something which Florida, Michigan & Massachusetts promptly did by trucking forcibly their "undesirables" into New York or California. They were offered for a pittance to Kiribati whose land area was about to be consumed by the Pacific but the islanders stood their ground erecting crosses throughout the island to "ward off evil spirits", they said. California sent a high-level delegation to Mexico to seek return to its pre-historic family but it was given the same brush-off by the suddenly finicky newly-rich Mexicans. The Mexican cartel sneaked in merrily instead, converted it into its new HQ then promptly gave it the monicker of endearment Nueva Somalia. New York was practically under the resurgent Mafia after the Federal government pulled out before Christmas. Sicily sent feelers it wanted "brotherly union" but strangely the Capo di Capi refused, he dismissed the offer saying the equally bankrupt Sicilians "just wanted a share of the loot". California & New York were practically decimated near the end of 2020, all their still healthy companies & "acceptable citizens" have already transferred before the deadline to the New Improved United States or NIUS, the new name of the formerly wealthiest country in the world.

As expected, the orgy of retribution hasn't stopped in both states. Everyday, clumps of dead corpses of gays or leftist intellectuals were discovered in some dumpster. In Hollywood, the Bollywood producers cashed in on the fire sale of studios but they had to import workers & actors from India because most of the former Hollywood types were hunted down for being "social degenerates" (the big heterosexual producers, including the closet types, have pulled up stakes a couple of years ago to Fargo, North Dakota to form Follywood). West Hollywood has turned into a ghost town but there was still a strong stench of a rotting corpse everytime a strong wind blew. In New York, all the surviving financial types have all gone to Sao Paolo, the new financial hub of the Americas, where they were allowed to change their citizenship to Brazilian if they had assets of at least $50 million (those who didn't were shipped to Manaus in the Amazon where they were instructed to give financial advice to the indigenous tribes). But they barely made it, a former head of a failed bank which was supposed to be too big to fail but failed anyway was caught in the airport. He had the temerity to lecture the mob about their "low level of civilization" so the mob promptly crucified him upside down in Wall Street.

He had to hurry to convince the good apples. If the NIUS would ever be great again, it needed to bleed no further. They need good financial men. The pretentious political & social theoreticians, he personally didn't care a whit but no way could the NIUS afford to lose those with good track record in finance. He had designated Salt Lake City as the new seat of the new NIUS Bourse. He might not have too much love for the Mormons but he felt the balance of the temporal with the eternal in the air should keep everybody's feet on the ground. There were complaints that they couldn't possibly exchange Sao Paolo for the snowy boondocks of Utah, they bargained for Denver, but he exhorted to their patriotism. Miraculously, most still recognized the word.

When human delusions & human frailty collide, he thought. Whether you give him too much brawn or too much brain, man is bound to overstep his limits. But that's almost a cliche in human history. They just have to move on.

"How are you, my friend?" It was the General Secretary from Peking in his clipped English.

"Very fine, thank God. Everything going well as planned" He felt the sincerity in the voice of the man. A fellow traveller, the voice conveyed the humility of too much power to control man's destiny in his hands.

"I'll have the ten trillion dollars invested in Salt Lake City as soon as you give the green light..."

He couldn't speak. He was so overcome with emotion he was afraid he would choke & embarrass himself. He couldn't afford to cry before another head of government.

But then he heard the sniffles from the other end of the line. He was at a lost on what to do or say. After a while, he decided to clear lightly his throat.

The Chinese General Secretary weakly laughed. "I'm okay, my friend. Human nature just makes me cry..."

Next: Chapter 3: Before The Great Fall

Vivimi - Biagio Antonacci (Italia)

Hacia lo salvaje- Amaral (España)

Monday, January 9, 2012

THE BEATEN GENERATION: The Dick Principle (A Novel)

by Dick of All Dicks & Poli Tico

NOTE: We'll start serializing a novel, our first attempt, interspersed with our regular articles. "The Dick Principle" means there's a point when delusions are no longer funny, thus unacceptable, so swatting time (reality) begins. This novel is essentially about the foibles of a beaten generation.

Chapter 1: Anti-Pretentiousnessism

2020, New York

There was a sudden jab of deja vu. It reminded Hsu of the old clips of the crowd views during the funeral of the last Dear Leader in Pyongyang. No better expression of anguish could beat these women lining the wide avenue, their sadness seemed like monsters struggling violently to escape from their breasts. They were beating their uniformly ample breasts almost synchronously, an eternal drum roll, goading the monsters of mourning to break free from their mammary caves. Their ululating wails had the right hysteria of desperate sorrow & their tears fell on cue. Real good director there, he thought. There were still competent French directors after all, he conceded. The last good French film he truly admired was made in the 1960's yet. They had a good casting director too. The women were all pretty & blonde, they wore the most stylist black suits imported from Moscow, the new fashion capital of the world.

The funeral procession he was watching in his 150" Haier TV in his penthouse above Fifth Avenue was not a live feed from Pyongyang. It was direct from the Champ Elysees in Paris. It was the funeral of the French dictator who was reported in the only Paris daily Le Homme as felled by an anarchist's bullet. Hsu knew the truth: the French secret service uncovered the deceased dictator was into bisexual relationships when he was young in the 1990's so he was gunned down by his deputy, the new dictator, ex-Vice General Secretary Jean-Paul Bardot. This one was a good actor too... as the camera closed up on him, he squeezed the handkerchief which he used to wipe his swollen eyes (good make-up artist, he marvelled). Hsu actually saw drips of water trickle down from the handkerchief. Really good props assistant too, he marveled again.

Suddenly his cellphone beeped.

"Hello, Hsu here..."

"Beloved Master, they are having a little riot here." It was his young blonde assistant from Minnesota, Tommy. "They need more of your boundless generosity, Glorious Master."

They always need more. Americans are despicable, he muttered under his breath. He came here to help them with their rampant poverty but he was seen as a source of endless dole-outs instead. They seemed to be unable to digest that teaching them to fish was a better way. That was the secret why China became the wealthiest country in the world. But these unfortunate hobos were always asking for the fish.

"Ok, I'll be there, Pupil."

"I'll be waiting for your exalted arrival, Dear Master."

He cast a last sulking glance over the TV. He missed Paris. Perhaps he'll go there this weekend. They have this regular Sunday spectacle they call "Egg Day". They line-up a particularly loud-mouth intellectual or politician before the Great Fall in a spot below the Eiffel Tower then pelt him with 1000 rotten eggs. 1001 if the crowd was really agitated, but not more, it would be against the new Resource Conservation Law. Otherwise, the violator would be guillotined for "pretentious wastage". The new French rulers were very big on what they call as Anti-Pretentiousnessism (they call it Post-Delusionalism in America). They believed it was the pretentious who brought down their previously dominant civilization. Ah, when he gets there, he'll catch up on the latest European developments on the new philosophy, the current rage in the West during the early days of the Chinese Century. Yes, he'll just delegate everything to Tommy, the young man has become a really good pupil.

Then a particular thought made him more excited. He remembered they have a really crazy philosopher on schedule this Sunday. This one was the most revered intellectual in France before the Great Fall. That's why they fell, he thought, they mistook delusional provocateurs for genius. This one has become the symbol of Pretentiousnessism. The first time he heared the French charlatan's drivel in a symposium at Peking University in 2011, Hsu thought this one deserved to see a pychiatrist. He'll bring ten really rotten eggs himself, he hated pseudo-intellectuals who became famous because they had connections to promote their mediocre hot air. He'll target the crooked mouth. He'll get even for that wasted hour in 2011 which would have been better spent playing Tetris.

He hated New York. When the Great Fall came, all the smart young people trekked to Shanghai, HongKong, Moscow, Vladivostok or even Sao Paolo. You have this dirty town with all these empty & rundown tall buildings littered with poorly-paid people who dressed shabbily. He wished he were someplace else but his godfather, a billionaire, was asked by the Chinese General Secretary to form a foundation to help the poor in New York. Good for the image of China, they told him. Of course, he knew it was just like the foundations used by the old American imperialists to pretend fighting for human rights elsewhere to subvert their enemies. They failed but the ruse was still worthy emulating nonetheless. He reminded himself the New York Confucianist Society will have a meeting tonight. He'll read the same speech he read in LA last month. That was very effective, they threw vats of roses on him afterwards. Damn, one very enthusiastic old lady even included the vase. It hurt a bit but that's how blinded these people were to celebrities. No limits to their adoration.

After the prolonged outbreaks of riots in New York, especially the attacks on intellectuals & homosexuals (which the Chinese Central News TV America, the biggest cable TV in the whole Americas, called The Backlash Wars), he was determined to help the rabble learn how to respect authority. Confucius could teach them a lot there. There's only one way they could learn to walk tall again.

The Chinese way.

2020 Los Angeles

The shoes cost too much, almost half her monthly salary. She will just have to borrow from her sister Peggy, she could even not repay her like many times before. Just served her right for marrying that rich dork. How could Peggy be having good sex with that garlic-breath buffon? At least, he's good at earning millions but did he even care women had to have orgasms too? Pity her backward sister, she was easily contented with living in a twenty million-dollar mansion, but at what cost? She remained a slave of her selfish husband just like their mother & all the sad women in her ancestry who never had the courage to fight for their dignity & rights. Well, she was her own master. Always has been. Always will be. She's almost sixty & not once was she under the thumb of any man. Marriage is sexist & no way would she allow herself to be oppressed. She didn't have to wed Alfie's father, she could raise her child herself & she did. It was too bad Alfie rebelled against the poverty but at least, they had their pride intact. But her child inherited his father's lack of pride. He ran away, he's now living in his father's ten million-dollar yatch & won't call her. Poor Alfie, he got his father's fascist genes. She could feel her beloved child will become as sexist as his miserable father. Well, no need to feel guilty, her life was dedicated to serving mankind & damned him if her own son won't appreciate her bigger sacrifices.

Once more, she checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror then she got out as sophisticated as she could from her car. She was wearing her new 3-inch stiletto heels which she was sure was the most expensive on the road that very moment in a hundred-mile radius. She knew she still walked like a model so she imagined herself sashaying in a fashion ramp as she trudged along the dirty gravel paths leading to the rundown bungalow. How could a famous singer live in a dump like that? She guessed this one must be perennially stoned, he probably never noticed rattlesnakes would want to move in with him anytime soon.

Well, it appeared this one needed some lessons. Big-time. She pushed the doorbell daintily, making sure the angle of her elbow to her index finger was just right, convinced that was how a queen would do it.

The singer himself opened the door. She was right, the idiot was clearly stoned.

"Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I'm Tina Ford from the Human Rights Protection Monitor." She didn't bother to hold out her hand, the human trash before her was dumpster personified.

"Can... I... help... you?"

"We sent you a letter about your holding a concert in Burma, a dictatorial country which doesn't respect human rights, we need your public apology." She tried her best to sound very formal (like a queen, she was sure) but the guy's breath really stank, it took all her might not to puke."You know we could complicate matters for you if you continue to offend the sensibilities of civilized people." She decided to lay down her cards right away there, she needed to get away fast.

"Burma? But I did no concert there recently?"

"Don't confuse me, Mr. Crawford," She raised her right eyebrow as high as she could, thinking that was how a billionaire's wife would do it to a particularly hicky underling."You did!"


"September 10, 2012." She smirked sure that was how that British croak Margaret Thatcher did it." You were paid a million dollars to sing in the inauguration of the new dictator."

Suddenly, the singer looked as if the effects of the drugs evaporated away & stared at her sure she was crazy.

"It would be for the interest of everybody if you return the money, or give it to charity," she smugly persisted, pointing her gnarled nose into the air, feeling she was indeed a queen." Just to atone for your cavalier disregard for a civilized society's sensibility."

"You're really crazy, aren't you?"

"No need to be impertinent, Mr. Crawford." Again, the Thatcherite smirk. She's loving it.

"I remember you sent me a letter the minute I returned from Burma in 2012 yet & I told you to spare me your politics. That money was mine. Why return here again now? The Burmese are very big investors in Hollywood these days. Didn't I hear all the human rights organizations have been disbanded already five years ago? So what brought you here? You're nuts. You came straight from the asylum, didn't you?"

The brute was laughing at her face. This one won't ever learn how to respect the sensibility of civilized people. When she's angry, really angry, she would lose control of her hand. She felt it grip the cold knife inside the front pocket of her skirt. But she could understand the principle. Some people needed to be taught the proper way to respect.

The next thing she knew, the knife was already stuck deep in the singer's heart. Justice, she smiled sweetly feeling like an angel.

Next: Chapter 2: Post-Delusionalism

Sin ti no soy nada- Amaral (Spain)

Pazzo di Lei- Biagio Antonacci (Italy)

My favorite Italian song of all time below:

Quattro giorni insieme- Loy & Altomare (1974)

Sunday, January 1, 2012


Bruno Senna, Brazil

by Dick of All Dicks & Poli Tico

NOTE: From now on, when I use the word "gay" in a critical way, I'm referring to B-lister gay. The definition is found on the left sidebar.


This is not supposed to be hilarious.

So, we have another new year. The Western world, touched by supposedly "modern, avant-garde" thinking & replete with liberal intellectuals who are supposedly really compassionate & very determined-to-social-engineer-the-world to their vision of a better one, must be advancing to a future of equality, sophistication & greatness. Right?

Wrong. Must be the latter-day version of the Peter Principle (I call it the Dick Principle): just like with professional competency, there's a limit to acceptable delusions.

The world doesn't stop turning. Reality reasserts itself always no matter how flamboyant or hypocritically well-meaning the delusions of those inhabiting it: at the end of the last year, five of the ten richest countries in the world are no longer Western economies (based only on nominal GDP, it's more depressing if we use GDP by PPP). Brazil just dislodged the UK as the 6th largest economy, after the US, China, Japan, Germany & France. Britain is only ahead of Italy, Russia & India. Two of the Top 10 are considered authoritarian by Western standards while two are nominally democratic because they conduct elections but are de facto feudal societies (which most of the world actually are outside the Western liberal democracies so expect feudalism to remove its Western democratic facade as the West recedes in influence). Japan, as observed on how it conducted itself during the tsunami that ravaged it early last year, relies more in Asian style consensus-building for the common good, unlike the contentious Western predilection of highlighting the personal over the communal rights. But here's the meat: all the 5 Western countries in the list are drowning in debts while the supposedly undemocratic China & Russia are drowning in cash. Ten years from now, it is predicted that only one Western economy will be at the top five (US, China, Japan, Russia, India). In 2030, the biggest economy then, China, will be twice as large as the second, the US. More or less, you have a clear idea there might be a very different world indeed.

If that comes to pass, it's a no-brainer there will be new politics.

The recent economic free fall in the West occurred during a period when all the sensitivity campaigns in order to supposedly intensify the "modernization" of men were at their strongest. A self-appointed elite even had the gall to arbitrarily enforce a dictatorship of political correctness outside the "dreaded" elected governments in pursuit of their own sectoral vision (or was it delusion?). Isn't it curious that at a time when the verbal acrobatics for those "modernizations" were at their loudest, the real lives of real people in the real world were instead fast degenerating? The funny thing is that all the degradation came at a time when the lives & prospects of supposedly "repressed" people, who were supposed-to-be unable to fight for their own good, were zipping past & leaving everybody behind instead. Anybody left in the West who is still tough enough to face up to life's real challenges after all the sensitivity sessions prescribed for his "modernization" by supposedly touching base with his feminine side? The previously audacious West must be so soft, therefore modern (?), by now- but, curious, why is his lifestyle degraded & his options bleaker instead? Mere coincidence?

The current economic troubles didn't appear out of a vacuum. Nobody really ever missed a chance to grandstand so blame goes around. A fatal quirk in the system was simply exposed. It always allow that a political urgency could be conjured for even the most delusional pretension. The more discerning could only buy themselves time. Nobody among the Top Ten richest countries of the world recognizes gay marriage, the personal right du jour of the pretentious in the recent past. The only relatively well-off country before which recognizes it, Spain, was so pretentiously "modern" it was dislodged by India out of the Top 10. Now, it's not only on the verge of financial collapse, but the past Spanish government proved themselves to be "so modern" at social engineering they managed to make nearly half of the Spanish youth population out of work (43-46 %). Lamentably, the system allows any incompetent to conveniently appropriate the political noise of the moment to deviate the attention from the economic damage he has wrought before the suckers (or in political parlance, the supposedly powerful people) could realize they've been had. As soon as hard reality sunk in, the incompetent, who had the gall to pretend as modern, avant-garde & liberal, was booted out of office. But unfortunately, the damage has been done. And some dense deadbeats question now why politics have become secondary to economics in the twilight days of the formerly progressive Western civilization?

If supposedly undemocratic countries like China & Russia are skyrocketing before your eyes & your people are realizing they have lesser options than their supposedly backward parents, until when could you pretend your politics is worth your saliva? What, more intensified "sensitivity" building? More "modernizing" pretension? More "intellectual, avant-garde, liberal" posturing?

The proof of the pudding is in the eating. Now the pudding has maggots.

Economics, like sex, could only be real. Politics could subsist on wishful thinking. 2011 was a year when the art of political wishful thinking became the drug of choice to deny delusionary tendencies. The Hollywood gays must have been rendered perennially stoned by the constant doses of foiled wishful thinking. The latest attempt, the film which should have inculcated in everybody's mind that Hoover was gay, bombed as usual. It was the lowest earning in a Clint Eastwood-directed & Leonardo de Carpio-starred movie, beaten soundly in the box-office by a movie starred in by actors suspected as gays but who refused to heed the clamor by gays to identify themselves as gay (one even outed himself years ago but has now a girl friend; one had a two-year relationship before with a gay male singer but is now a ladies' man; the others have girls but are gossiped as bisexuals at least). This followed a familiar trail of carcasses of burned delusions: who can forget the disappearance into oblivion of a nascent superstar, Brandon Routh, when the big-budgeted film he starred in, which supposed to have lent superhero patina to gays, also failed to recoup its investment in "Superman Returns". Brandon promptly married a girl afterwards but to no avail, the gay deadweight proved too heavy. This in turn followed the disappearance into irrelevance of the then very hot Colin Farrell after he was made to publicize the bisexuality of an empire builder in "Alexander", which expectedly flopped despite the costly wishful thinking. Not even the release of a sex tape to underscore his heterosexuality showing him having sex with a girlfriend erased the poison dealt to his career by a B-lister gay delusion. It's obvious, after seeing the results, Leonardo de Caprio won't ever consider now the suggestion he should out himself just like what the gay gallery has been clamoring him to do. Clint Eastwood must be wondering how he got himself embroiled into the project late in his career. Not only was his past of being a boytoy of a gay writer dredged, he's now managed to include himself in the much-gossiped lists of Hollywood closet gays among gays themselves. Everybody loves to kid themselves gays are hot nowadays. Really? But as my Singaporean friend described it, they just developed bubbles where they could kid themselves but the "suggestible" part of the media which should have hyped that bubble is powerless because it is struggling for attention itself. The world would rather play "Angry Birds" than be sucker to delusions. Reality bites in the end.

Reality check for 2012.

Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year. Belated but I thought we all deserved our vacations.

My friend Greg will have his sexual conversion therapy next week. His fourth try. He has a modest target: just to be a bisexual. But he resolved he'll start self-identifying as "straight" starting this year. He's straight because he only loves straight men anyway.