The Jealous Pool

 Her waters are seen and oft mistaken

Her depths colored green for hopes forsaken

All will drink from this toxic well,

most unknowing and few would tell

Thou shalt not covet,

we are admonished

Some think nothing of it

then act astonished

when they are rebuked for the deed

Kissing cousin to a thing called greed

and other dark colors deep within

Some like to say it’s original sin

Most of the isms drawn from this font

are leveraged upon what others want

When all their falsehoods have filled your head

you’re left blind to the fact it’s for them instead

There is no care for what you think

After sating their thirst on that poison drink

Count Binface: Truth in Advertising

 

Defeat is only temporary...

Given the farcical nature of politics, I expect we've not seen the last of ol' Binsy. After all, there were ten thousand voters in Clacton who voluntarily cast their ballots for a rubbish bin. A container full of garbage. It's actually pretty good branding when you think about it. The only thing more honest would be a candidate with a toilet bowl or a box of disposable diapers on their head.

Binface may well be the bastard child of Sarah Ferguson and Robot Chicken's humping robot...

The Duchess pictured on right

What next? What about a dead hamster? Or a spooge rag? Would the results be any different? Probably not.

I'll be honest: I have not done a deep dive on this. I don't know who Binface is, who may be behind his candidacy, or if the whole thing is designed to take the piss out of British electoral politics. I'm only sharing these observations because it amuses me. I don't give one single shit about Clacton. Hell, I don't even know for sure where it is.

But I do know something about the nature of politics.

If Binface had won, there would be no distinguishable difference to the constituency of Clacton. In countries that call themselves "democracies", the leaders are popularly elected. Ostensibly. So, it is a popularity contest. It is the very nature of any popularity contest to draw a certain type: the Narcissist. Is it any wonder then, that participants in the electoral process are ever disappointed?

Maybe they are all going about this the wrong way. Maybe, instead of elections, there should be a draft. They keep getting people who want the job. Badly. Too badly. That should be a clue right there. Desperation has an unmistakable stench.

Instead of having a system where office holders literally thirst for power and authority, we could instead have a system where the duty is regarded as an onerous task. A job that NO ONE should want. Twenty-four months and you're done. Next! There are a multitude of arguments that may be mustered against this idea, but to each of those I counter with this: Would it be any worse than having a rubbish bin in charge?

Vert

 

Wet

Emerald green velvet

where wood nymphs whisper

Guardians of a sylvan secret

these creatures of light 

they glow as fireflies in the night

welcome the Muses in their flight

from a world gone mad

Spirit away these gentle Wraiths

to the quiet sanctum within

they chant their woeful hymn

and weep silver tears to kiss the soil

They are the lost and abandoned Foil

to ears that hear yet no longer listen

Their Gifts unappreciated

desensitized and vacant

no attachment to the Ancient

a quiet exit

Exile

Flock you, Garrett Langley

 

Look at this little twat. Twenty-four inches shoulder to shoulder. Probably has a neck size in the single digits. I bet he sits down to pee.

You might have to get used to seeing that weasel face every day. I think our major toilet tissue manufacturers should start gearing up to print this image on every sheet of toilet paper. Two reasons.

One - this little prick wants to look up everyone's ass

Two- this little prick needs to eat shit

Make no mistake. Garrett Langley and Flock Safety are not the only ones. There are others, and the way this issue is heating up I expect it won't be long before we start learning more about them, whoever they are. But the issue is not ONLY the purveyors of these surveillance tools. The greater problem is those in authority who have willingly solicited and embraced the deployment and use within their jurisdictions. It's all for safety, you know. For the children. 

I applaud all of those out there across the country, who are chopping these damned cameras down. The sawzall seems to be the preferred method in most parts, though I have seen some pretty creative variations. Whatever it takes, they all need to come down. Now, somewhere out there exists some knob who may try to say, "Tom, you are coming dangerously close to inciting felonious acts!" Am I? Really? If anything, I am only celebrating the commission of such acts. Felonious acts are celebrated by the millions every two years at the ballot box, so if that's a crime... what of it?

Even if they are all cut down, that only leaves the job half done. It's not going to hurt Garrett Langley, or any others of his ilk. Losing all those contracts, or maybe even being forced into dissolving their companies, will only be a temporary setback. They are a breed of simpering jackals that will simply slither off until they find some new grift. The next thing will be drones. Or bat-cams, seagull-cams. Maybe Stasi style informants fitted with go-pros. As long as there are junkies for this shit, someone's going to peddle it.

Now, maybe if every official who approved these things in their community were to be impaled through their rectums upon the stumps of the severed cameras... That might get the point across. Absent a total societal meltdown, we are not likely to see this. Sadly.

Have any of you ever had to take care of a swimming pool? Even if the answer to that question is no, most have enough of an understanding about how swimming pools work that the term "algaecide" is familiar within the context. Algaecide is for chumps. You want to keep algae out of a swimming pool? Kill the phosphates. No phosphates = no food. No food = no algae.

I don't need to spell it out for you. You know which is which. 

The Children of Swine

bigger, better, faster, more

nothing new beneath the sun

we've already seen this all before

since the last war was won

castles built to survive to dust

better than nature's own

leave instead only dying rust

amid weeds overgrown

the promise of joy only disappointed

sad ruins in the dirt

this vision of the self-anointed

never intended any hurt

results don't matter, only virtue

and someone else to blame

when your own actions never hurt you

never feeling any shame 

you can have your stinking pig sties

your pens of steel and glass

I choose instead the clear skies

the rocks, the trees and grass

because nothing of your making

can satisfy any need

but your own need for taking

your constant, unbridled greed

pigs will be pigs, it's always been true

even unto eating their own

the children of swine have not a clue

of the whirlwind they have sown 

I, Fauci: A Star is Born

 

At a secret, undisclosed location, some time in our not-too-distant past…

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for being the guests of The Gates Foundation. As you are aware this event is by invitation only. We are grateful to all who have answered this call. All of you members of the pharmaceutical industry, corporate leaders of health care organizations, and public health officials have become acquainted with us through this foundation’s efforts in global health initiatives. Now despite the makeup of this audience, we are not going to discuss health issues today. No, today we are going to discuss another matter that is near and dear to all of your hearts. At least it should be. Today we are going to talk about money. Not chump change, but REAL money, okay? Like Gates Foundation money.

A low buzz of hushed exchanges quietly reverberated through the room. The Nerd’s beady eyes darted behind his glasses, and he licked his lips in expectation. This room was representative of the overall health care sector. He sensed that they, like the field from which they came, were ripe for the picking. He could see it in all of their eyes. Any lingering sense of altruism which may have influenced their original career choices had now faded into obscurity, replaced by sheer, unbridled greed. All had been carefully screened, and he was confident that these were his kind of people. He poured some Perrier into a glass, took a sip and then continued.

All of you here collectively represent the greatest cash cow in human history. The latent potential is nearly unfathomable to human imagination, yet I see that there is a division of effort. In short, you people are going about this all wrong. We have brought all of you here to correct this course before this golden opportunity should slip from our fingers. Looking around this room, I can see that some of you are puzzled. You haven’t quite connected all of the dots, but I will clarify for you.

The Gates Foundation. How did the Gates Foundation amass such overwhelming wealth? Most of you will reply that this of course is derived from Microsoft. You would be correct, but that alone does not tell the entire story. Microsoft was the vehicle, yes, but it is necessary to understand the history of Microsoft to see how this worked.

The Nerd adjusted his glasses and took another sip of Perrier, then switched on an overhead projector. In an instant this was projected upon the large wall to his back:

MS-DOS – Microsoft Disk Operating System (1981)

• Windows 1.0 – 2.0 (1985-1992)

• Windows 3.0 – 3.1 (1990-1994)

• Windows 95 (August 1995)

• Windows NT 3.1 – 4.0 (1993 – 1996)

• Windows 98 (June 1998)

• Windows ME – Millennium Edition (September 2000)

• Windows 2000 (February 2000)

• Windows XP (October 2001)

• Windows Vista (November 2006)

• Windows 7 (October, 2009)

• Windows 8

• Windows 10

What you see behind me is the summary history of the Microsoft Windows operating system. Thirty years of progress. The first decade, from Windows 1.0 to Windows 3.1, was dedicated to building an infrastructure. From Windows 95 to Windows 10 in the summer of 2015, you will note that we succeeded in introducing a “new and improved” version at a rate of approximately every three years. Now in a rapidly advancing science it is natural to find a certain degree of built in obsolescence in the resulting products as they struggle to keep up with that science. Introducing new operating systems on a timetable of roughly every three years would appear to be consistent with this dynamic. This timetable was in fact deliberate, and on its face meant to appear as a manifestation of that dynamic. This was the perfect cover for what was actually happening: Microsoft Windows operating system as a viral delivery platform.

The Nerd punctuated this part of his address with that familiar, half-deranged smirk of his. He leaned away from the mic for moment, in part to avoid the detection of a small chuckle under his breath, but mostly to allow his concluding statement to sink in. He cocked his head up toward the ceiling lights, keeping the glare on his lenses to hide his shifting, beady eyes as he surveyed the room. The Nerd assessed that he had this audience precisely where he wanted them. There was no one on the planet better equipped to read this room than he, the man who had suffered no audience any less than enthralled by his mere presence in over two decades. He didn’t allow them too long to think on it before he resumed.

You want to know where Microsoft made it’s real money? Even at a rate of new version every three years, the real money was not in operating systems, no. The real money, my friends, is in viruses. In nature the virus, in it’s physicality, is a minute organism; yet I would submit that it is the supreme life form.

The Nerd paused briefly again, looking away from the ceiling lights to engage his audience with his eyes as he continued.

You know… heh-heh… we here have become rather like viruses ourselves. We live off of a host that we must keep in a weakened state, yet we dare not kill off our host. This is only in the euphemistic sense, yet it could be so much more. At Microsoft the sickness and the cure are delivered by the same hand, to a “patient” programmed to accept the cure from a trusted source. This patient is uncertain where the sickness came from. With a multitude of potential threats, assailing them from all directions, all the time... it's simply exasperating. They can't keep up with it. So, when we send them the constant security updates, our research shows that 64% of  pat-, er um, customers simply upload (inject) these fixes right away. Without question. Another 15-20% get around to it within six months. The rest end up abandoning the OS altogether, due to catastrophic system failure or, they have voluntarily upgraded to new hardware.

I look around this room now, and I'm seeing some puzzled faces. Maybe a little squirming. I am betting that some of you are starting to wonder, "What has any of this have to do with us? What we do?" Well, I won't keep you in suspense very much longer. In just a few moments we will be joined by the esteemed Dr. Anthony Fauci, who is going to share with us some very exciting results in gain of function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology. Some of you are no doubt familiar with Dr. Fauci. Some of you are not, but... I promise you all, in the next few years the entire world will know Dr. Fauci. Come on out, Tony!

And thus, a star was born. All paid for with your tax dollars. You're welcome.

Judge Daily: Can we get a little guidance?

This is an open letter addressed to ANYONE (Judge Daily included) at the Olmsted County Government Center in Rochester, Minnesota

Dear Olmsted County Government Clowns:

We here at Midnight and other beasts have been preparing a travel guide for our readers, who may plan on visiting Rochester. We don't understand it, but apparently there is some appetite to see firsthand what it is like to live in The People's Democratic Republic of Minnesota. 

We have been able to compile a comprehensive list of your finest establishments for the enjoyment of the world-renowned Somali cuisine. We have created a tour map that will assist our readers to take in the full splendor of your lovely Somali ghetto. There are also directions to the Mayo Clinic, complete with some parking tips. Showing once again that we will go over and above to serve the interest of our readers, we have mapped out all of the best locations in Olmsted County to purchase bananas and rice at wholesale. There seems to be little else of interest in your County, yet there are some nagging questions that remain.

Number one: Will there be a plaque or some other kind of memorial erected in Rochester to commemorate the erasure of the first amendment of the United States Constitution? If so, where? Also, will there be a racial test to determine who may visit?

Number two: In the absence of any specific statutes which bar the use of certain words, we understand that your office will employ the ever-elastic "disorderly conduct" statute to prosecute those who use speech which your office finds "offensive". We understand, from a recent ruling in your court, that the word NIGGER is subject to this judicial fiat. 

It is our wish to provide sound guidance to our readers. In the event that they should, while visiting your fair city, come into any potential conflict with a brown-skinned person of questionable immigration status, what might be some safe and legal words to be used? We have a short list of potential alternatives, which we submit for your review-

Yard ape, porch monkey, jigaboo, jungle bunny, spearchucker, melon head, balloon head, darkie, skid mark, hood rat

Would more generic terms like asshole, dipshit, fuckhead or goof be permitted?

Are any (or all) of these safe alternatives? Are there any OTHER words that are verboten in Olmsted County? 

Your guidance in this matter will be greatly appreciated.

Insincerely yours,

Thomas J. Darby

p.s. - Just kidding! None of our readers are coming to your shithole