Cognitive Dissent

Do not normalize deplorable scumbags

The same irresponsible professional media that shamelessly sold #RussiantRumpRanger propaganda to a little less than 40 million ignorant, bigoted, cowardly Amerikan voters is now calling upon the outrage rational members of society not to further alienate the vicious immoral jerks that showed up at the polls to vote their black consciences and put one of their idols in the White House.

This is nothing new. Professional media people have engaged in championing totalitarian mindfuckers since I was old enough to sit in a classroom and try to resist the horseshit that passes for discourse and education and civic responsibility. Nixon was reelected and allowed to get away with murdering millions of people because our fourth estate is, after all, just another of the estates in our evolving oligarchy.

Donnie Dimwit is and was a clearly racist, sexist, xenophobic, rabble-rouser and yet the media continued its 50 year slog down the road to ignoring the obvious signs of cancer on the body politic to allow the very worst in Amerika to elect the very worst candidate available because that’s The American Way.

We are a nation of miserable fucks and have been since we arose from the muck because we’re fucking humanists, incapable of understanding what Bukowski meant in “those sons of bitches” when he wrote:

one tombstone for the mess,
I say:
humanity, you never had it
from the beginning.

It’s bad enough that nearly 40 million Amerikans voted for Tweetie Bird, but even now in the third month of this death spiral of incompetence, malevolence, and vindictiveness, a mere 3% of people who admit to voting for a Hitler wannabe claim they regret their vote.

Three fucking percent, which means that more than 38 million voters should not be trusted with firearms because they are obviously batshit crazy. They’re not just stupid. They are proud of their ignorance. Why else would anyone wear a tee-shirt like this?

They buy stickers and posters:



Don’t forgive or ignore these toxic scumbags. Words have meanings. Actions have consequences. Before you extend a hand to any of these worthless pieces of shit, remember that you will not be able to wash it off when the stench becomes too horrible to stand because you will have willingly taken that shit into your soul and become one with the very essence of what it means to be deplorable.

If you’re OK with that, fine. You are my intractable enemy, and I will work to do whatever I can to make sure you suffer the fate you deserve. If you can’t admit that you were and are wrong for supporting our current national embarrassment you are no better than he is.

#NeverForget.

I misread a story by Sarah Kaplan today

It was a story about Neanderthals. It originally appeared in The Washington Post, but I saw it in The Oregonadian/OregonadiaLive, an Advance Publication for click mass debaters. The story nestled among other unrelated journalistic gems from stiff and wired reports about the Border Patrol no longer being able to perform background checks on new hires because of funding cuts and the need to hire thousands more agents to kill or capture Mexicans under President* Donnie Dimwit’s hingeless immigration policies. Another AP story discussed the Day Without Women protests that made Donnie’s pussy-grabbing hands itch, and the page was rounded out with a story on an ISIS attack on a hospital in Afghanistan and a Dear Abby column about “parental alienation.” The only things missing were ads for incontinence diapers, edible crotchless underwear, and great new investment opportunities.

The headline chosen for Sarah’s story was 

Neanderthal teeth show diet based on locale 

Ain’t got no papers on myself

One of the great albums from the late sixties was Forever Changes by Love, and this is one of the great songs from that great album.


There are quite a few other great songs on the album, but this one seems particularly relevant in the world we currently find ourselves stumbling through, with a maniacal sociopath in the White House, surrounded by his hand-picked deplorable bunch of desperate wanker whackers.

Do you have your papers in order? I’m not talking about you immigrants, I’m talking about people born in the USA. What are you gonna do when ICE personnel swoop in on some food cart and start checking to see if everyone is legal? 

Admit it. You thought that all those Repugnicunt efforts to require photo ID or other proof of identity to vote was just to make it difficult for people you don’t really give a shit about to exercise their inalienable right to choose how they are governed. It wasn’t. The real intention was to normalize the concept of having to produce identification upon demand by whatever authority happens to ask you for it.

The Repugnicunt war on freedom of movement and thought has been doubling down in recent weeks, and coming soon to a business or venue near you is the impact of one or more of Donnie Dumbo’s executive orders to make America greatly safe or safely grate again.

Remember, in the current climate, the authorities only have to suspect that you are not in the country illegally to detain you. Being a citizen is no excuse for not complying with official requests that you produce your papers. In fact, Repugnicunt state legislators are hard at work making it easier to imprison people simply for protesting their government.

Of course, many people, like Arthur Lee, don’t carry around any papers to prove their citizenship. A driver’s license, a student ID, an employee badge? Are these valid proof of citizenship? I don’t think so. Homey don’t play that.

Think about it the next time you’re standing on the street corner waiting for a bus and an official vehicle pulls up to the curb and someone calls out the window: “Sir (or madam), can I have a word with you?”

It might be time to kiss your naive ass goodbye.

While the White House press whores snored...

…we watched another episode of The Man In The High Castle, which is about what the United States would be like if Donald “Jerkwad” Trump had convinced Russia to invest in this nation of miserable fucks (NOMF™) in exchange for a cabinet of deplorables willing to launder rubles for state-sponsored terrorists, and everyone thought it was something to put behind us so we could get on the with business of building walls and making the world safe for freedumbmocracy.

If the mainstream media isn’t careful, they’ll be relegated to reporting on vague new farm subsidy programs where arid wastelands are miraculously turned into productive farms and ranches by spreading composted Muslims, gays, Mexicans, liberals, and regime opponents on fallow ground and irrigating it will a viscous red liquid whose actual ingredients are a state secret.

America has been gleefully heading down the path to totalitarian mindlessness since Reagan pissed all over the middle-class and told them it was prosperity. The liberal media was so willingly castrated by the old rummy, that they spent the Clinton administration convincing the NOMF that the worst thing that ever happened in the Oval Office involved oral sex and muscular cigars.

By the time the Supreme Court handed the country back to the Republicans in 2000, the middle-class was almost entirely tapped out, so Lon Cheney, Ronald McRumsfeld, Johann Asscough, Speedo Gonzales, and the entire neocondi rice and beaner basket of deplorables set about casting Fubar W. Bush as the most misunderestimated First Idiot in the history of failed presidencies.

The media loved it. After 8 years of moaning about how the White House had been disrespected and defiled by a huckster from Arkansas who liked to fuck on America’s most important desk, the press was loaded with potential scud studs and full metal jacket flacks who jumped on board the newly launched never-ending campaign war on humanity and reason.

Is it any wonder that the media is back to its obsequious glory this morning after fawning over how the current First Idiot didn’t bite the head off a migrant chicken as his first State of Disunion address?

This country is close to being over, people. It shouldn’t make you feel any better that the idiots who voted this scumbag into office will probably also be rounded up and rendered for the greater good. 

But in the meantime, we can all have a good laugh trying to imagine how much worse things can still get. But first, take a look at this piece from a kinder and gentler period in our perpetual fall from greatness.

Donnie Drumpf Takes a Dump

If Frank Zappa were still alive, he’d still be working on the master idea behind the project object, maybe even recycle Dickie’s Such An Asshole, but I’d much rather see a contemporary version of Bobby Brown. Maybe Dweezil would like to try.

Hey there, people, I'm Donnie Drumpf
I can tweet out a shitstorm just taking a dump
My hands are huge, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the liberals they can kiss my heinie
Here I am a great president*
I'm doing my hair using Fixodent
I got a house leader here wants to help with the Russians
Let him do all the work for loose change found in the cushions

Oh God I am the American dream
You do not think I'm too extreme
Way much better than that lying bitch
And if you do what I say you gonna get real rich

(Don’t you get
Don’t you get
Don’t you get
Don’t you get fired)

Russian globalization
Was a growing fascination
I tell you people it wasn’t just the liquor
When I fucked this spy by the name of Victor

He made a little pitch there,
And he tried to sell me on Vlad
He had my balls in a vice, but he left the dick
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick

Oh God I am your American leader
The very best of everything you have to offer
But I'm a miserable son of a bitch
Is it polls or the ratings, I don't know which

(I wonder wonder
Wonder wonder)

So out I went and bought a red power tie
I jingle my change, and you don’t care that I lie
Got this job by saying in the open
What you whisper in the hall and it’s got your hatred hoping

Eventually Vlad and me and some friends
Sorta drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
As long as I gets a little golden shower

Oh God I am the American dream
With a Russian up my butt till it makes me scream
But I'll do anything however bad
I lay awake nights saying, "Thank you, Vlad!”

Oh God, oh God, I'm the very very best!
Thanks to Vlad, I can rule the west
And my name is Donnie Drumpf
Read me now, while I take a dump,
And my name is Donnie Drumpf
Listen now, you gonna feel the bump
And my name is Donnie Drumpf
Watch me now, as I commence to hump...

Forty mice researchers will study...

I was scanning a piece on the latest Space-X mission to the international space station (ISS) and my eyes suddenly fixed on these words: “40 mice researchers will study,” and my mind stuck right there. It could have misinterpreted ISS as ISIS and spiraled out into an imaginary multiiverse where it turns out that Muslims have gotten around Trump’s travel harassment but taken up extraterrestrial travel to avoid airport screeners, but I got stuck instead on the mice researchers. 

“They’re teaching mice how to use Survey Monkey in space?” I wondered. “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to do that on Earth with a good landline?” It seemed preposterous to me that Elon Musk would so cavalierly squander shareholder money to send mice researchers into space and house them once they got there. What could they possibly learn up there that a few cheap domestic liberal arts graduate students couldn’t figure out by dissecting a few dozen mice researchers?

I was about to fire off a blog post on one of my left-leaning far-right wingnut self-service blogging sites to incite peace, love, and misunderstanding, when I went back and noticed that a simple punctuation misstep had stopped me short of the words that changed my perception completely.

“...a manifest that includes 40 mice researchers will study to learn about bone healing in microgravity,,,

Once I inserted a comma between “mice” and “researchers,” it was clear that researchers (presumably) would be studying the mice, who would then cease any research they might have undertaken on their own. Still, even with that understanding, I’m sure there are cheaper ways to figure how to heal a broken mouse leg without leaving the surface of the planet. Beyond that, I’m sure in some cases you wouldn’t have to be on the surface. A basement would do just fine to experiment on breaking and repairing mice bones.

You could build a microgravity chamber in your basement these days for the cost of a home podcast studio, but I’m getting off topic. I think.

I’m not sure. I’m never certain. I don’t believe. But I think.

In a previous life I was on the CIMA Product Safety Council

It was a much easier job than hanging turkeys at the Ralston Purina plant in Springdale, Arkansas. In fact, I don’t remember much about my duties or responsibilities beyond attending a couple of conferences and talking with other people who worked for companies that only cared about product safety to minimize their liability when one of their products contributed to the death of a future Trump supporter. You think people only recently became dumber than fenceposts? Shame on you.

One of my favorite parts of working in product safety was designing safety warnings and instructions that I suspected no one really paid attention, because that’s the American Way. It’s what makes us great, which goes a long way toward explaining what current president* and toxic shock precipitant Donnie Osymandias Drumpf means by establishing a new Amerikan Reich.

Here’s a nifty poster you can print and hang in your own workplace to inspire you the way middle management often does while making you hide your involuntary cringe.

Sanity poster CD


Enjoy.

A Little Moronism

I don’t know why but whenever I think about the great American political system and how it has been continually spiraling into irrelevance since the late 60s, I start trying to remember exactly how the little moron joke goes. 

It was a joke I first heard while I was still in elementary school, and it seemed like everybody told a version of the little moron joke. It was funny as hell, in the beginning. It got to where all somebody had to do was start with, “Well, there were these two morons, and …” and everybody within half a block would start laughing and slapping each other and gasping for breath.

The first couple of thousand times the little moron was the funniest joke between Steinway and 42nd, from 21st to Astoria Blvd, and I don’t know when it happened precisely but it just disappeared, replaced by race jokes, elephant jokes, novelty music, sex jokes, and jokes about scumbags.

And it turns out whenever I try to remember the little moron joke, I only arrive at a variety of punchlines:

  • Come on, you kidding me? He’s a little moron.
  • Because he’s a little moron.
  • It’s obvious, Sherlock. He’s a little moron.
  • What can I say? I’m a little moron.

and I know how it all begins with the two morons, but what goes on to set up the punchline is a complete hole in my memory, my personal history, my specific part in the story of humorous life, I don’t have a clue. It’s a total blank.

But I find it encouraging that sometimes I still find myself laughing for no reason and only then slowly discovering that I was thinking about the little moron, and trying to remember how the story goes.

Demilitarizing Amerika

The day after Dysauguration Day, 2017, all of the so-called illegal voters who deprived King Ubu II of the Untied States of Hysteria the popular vote he so desperately longs for were joined by hundreds of thousands of potential illegal voters around the world to protest his installation as a toxic shock trigger who was not (allegedly) a defective IUD. 

Unlike the protests on the previous day that resulted in injuries and arrests across the USA, the Take Back Our Pussies marches against scumbags, dipshits, ignoroids, and base Repugnicunts, the events of January 21, 2017 were surprisingly peaceful, according to fake news reports from the usual fake news outlets in the liberal media. You know, ABC, CBS, CNN, NBC, NPR, the New York Times, the Washington Post, and most of the so-called legitimate press.

If we were to believe non-Trumpanista reportage, joyously outraged citizens of the Earth gave President* Trump and his entourage a chorus of boos, a reading of civil rights, and a collective Rockefeller salute that could be seen on the International Space Station. 

Without violence? Without mass arrests? Without property damage?

How could this happen in modern America where many citizens are routinely shot and killed by police officers simply for being black or anarchic or afraid or obnoxious? 

There were only two answers I could think of in America’s obsessively binary reality construct. Either the news was totally fake, or the cops actually acted like police officers who are sworn to preserve and protect the safety of citizens. 

Trump and his fellow assholes went with fake news. They always do. Fuck them.

During the inauguration day protest of the elevation of a confessed sexual predator to the highest office in the land, this image from KOIN 6 news in Portland shows the friendly face the community police state put on to meet what they apparently assumed would be a throng of heavily armed ISIS fighters.

These cops were surprised when 98% of the protestors laughed at them while a handful of right and left wing extremists nutjobs broke shit and set it on fire. The goddamn protestors even threw shit at the police. Lawdy me.

The following day, photos from protests around the country showed an entirely different face for our law enforcement officers, public servants all, including these guys in front of the Portland building.

It would be nice to think that maybe everyone learned something from the contrasts between January 20 and 21. If you show up dressed to wage war against your own citizens, you should expect to be perceived as an enemy. If you want to protect and preserve the peace, leave the body armor and batons back at the office.

Is it time yet for shamer shaming?

Has the whole world turned lapsed Catholic? Has Trumpism so firmly taken hold of our great NOMF™ that any unfiltered observation of something visible in the actual world must be condemned and the utterer attacked by mindless hordes of Demoblicans, Independpants, Lispetarians, Milletennials, Vibratogogues, and Republocraps? 

Generalizations are often helpful, people, in a world with several billion assholes — a goodly percentage of which are clearly malignant — strutting around with their teeth clenched and their culturally Zikified brains. 

This world is not a binary construct, and Zero the Hero is constantly overwhelmed by the cloyingly sanctimonious. There billions of shades of meaningless gray to confront the NOMF obsession with black and white, wrong and right, weakness and might, flight or fight.

I imagine that love crimes are at least as dangerous as hate crimes. Go ahead and shame me for being one of the other people. What does not kill me, makes me fart. Take a whiff on me.



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