Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel

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Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel

Back alleys. Aphrodisiacs. Sweet honor, power, revenge. A hard, tough country with life full, intimidation fast, heat coming as a whippet, a whirlwind. A hard cynical little novel. 50,000 words. Dominance Games. A dirty rapt primer. a mean searing little story. Intimidation stalks time and decades. A tempered stew radiates out from the sinews and muscles of longing and regret.

http://www.amazon.com/Dominance-Games-Essay-Power-ebook/dp/B004SHEV74/ref=pd_ecc_rvi_cart_2
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39291

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Dominance Games: Company thugs and union goons would like to come back

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Ahh, the mind set.  Ahh, the prejudices.  Ahh, the soul of a vital capital economy with the moxie and guts to be great.  The drive.  The resource.  The navigations of the rough seas of competition with the wind not enough at your back.  The iron will.  The self determination.  The drive.  The pride.  The heart of the risk taker.  The grand traits of a grand country.  B e they ever cherished and honored, celebrated and reflected upon.  Scrap and fight.  Hustle and move.  Do what has to be done.  Build and build.  Empire, good empire.  Hard scrabble and brass knuckles.  It ain't so damned easy.  Spit and get off of the floor.  Keep coming.  Keep coming.  Keep coming.  Winning is tough.  Keeping turf is tough.  Building is tough.  This is romance.  This is steel.

Ahh the poor inferior helpless.  Unschooled, unable, unwarranted, unloved.  Ahh, the comfortable dependents upon the sweat and work of others.  The path is there for the traveling.  The stakes are there for the taking.  Life's owes nothing but death and squalor.  Manna from the haves to the needy is manna earned.  Work is production.  Production creates sustenance.  No production.  No sustenance.  No sustenance....no survival.

All is fair always in the market place.  It is self defining.  The ones who corner the means and methods win.  The ones who take away extreme power do so as a protective measure.  The winners win only so long as the system has the backing of state sanctioned law or force...or non state sanctioned law or force.  There are no guarantees that the winners won't push themselves over a cliff.  There are no guarantees that the losers will go quietly.

Survival for all requires the hording of force and the use thereof.  Company thugs and union goons have had their time in the sun.  They would like to come back

Tommy Christopher   Mediaite
http://www.mediaite.com/tv/thom-hartmann-calls-fox-business-networks-makers-vs-takers-segments-class-warfare/

Glenn Thrush and Byron Tau   Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0511/55894.html

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Lust Games: When there has to be a vote...make it crooked

From the bottom up.  Many times, many ways the power in government and life comes from the bottom up.
The base up.  The foundation up.  Many times, many ways the power in government and life comes from the base up, the foundation up.

Building blocks supreme support edifices and efforts of grand public pooh baas, void doers do gooders and all serious scholars.  Mountains of sadistic gain are built lovingly and to the credit of justice from the bottom up.

From the bottom up comes the power,the virtue, the massive movements  hard knocks,  hard pain, sharp elbows, hurting places.  From the bottom up comes ribald thuggery and haunting bleeding.  Grab assed grab ass.... from the bottom up.

Grand stability and surely supporters.  Roving marauding monsters cover great wide swaths of devouring nightmares devouring all before them as inebriated locusts in eternal heat.  From the bottom up dreams come true.

Lift that bail.  Tote that barge.  Skunk that skunk.  Hammer that nail.  Moral dignity and severe belonging.  Group buzz and kumbayah.  From the bottom up comes the holy hell of a saintly pedestal upon which the bottom feeders and the  mighty rest and lord.  From the bottom up.

Skunk that skunk.   Maim those weak.  Fry order.  Dump decency.  Right  worth.   To elect is to be  right as rain.  Fair fights  and demon idiots win in the world of dreams.  In the world of wants.  In the world of how does it feel to want.  Competition flourishes  and you win a Buick.  Games on games.  Wheels on wheels.  Naked whimsies of naked riders riding naked on horseback..... nakedly.  The fantasies and virtues of  fantasies of virtue are long and luminous.

When there has to be a vote...make it crooked.  Where there has to be an electorate fix it.  Where there has to be a district game it.  Where there has to be a show....dance.  Politics is foe suckers.  Might is for pros.

Common Suckers

Carl Hulse   New york Times
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/24/us/politics/24kucinich.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha24

Gerrymandering the Film
http://gerrymanderingmovie.com/content.php?section=issue&page=whatisit

Center for voting and Democracy
http://www.fairvote.org/redistricting

books…  http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: Speak loudly and club the bastards to death

I think they like it.  Zoos come and go and animals act up and perform and I think they like it.  Trendy rackets of self immolation get thrown under the bus and to the wolves.  I think they like it  The players play and they kiss their own behinds.  I think they like.  The fight enjoined, the bating bated, the hate hated, the smarms smarmed.  I think they like it.

The moods moody.  The lights misty.  The dancing seals dancing.  Blood sport sporting.  Kill sport killing.  Derision sport deriding.  They damned well like it.

Commentary as machete for the lazy and the rich. Toys to be abused for the ones who take wings off of flies.  Hateful hates.  Vile devils.  Deemed demons.  They damned well love it.

Hope is for those who work at something.  Hate is the all purpose passport.  Define thine self.  Color tawdry and putrid thine enemy devil.  Tactics. Tactics.  Tactics.  Tougher.  Stronger.  Simpler.  More vivid.  More emasculating.  More basically simple.

Ahh..the devils are coming.  The devils are coming.  Speak loudly and club the bastards to death.  The devils make us play dirty.  They implore us to the noble tricks of the trade.  Kill the bastards.  Blood sport.  Blood lust.  Blood.  Taste the taste.

Some are better at it than others.  The real politics.

By Craig Silverman    Columbia Journalism Review
http://www.cjr.org/behind_the_news/controversy_at_fox_news_north.php

By MIchael Tomaski    The Daily Beast
http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2011-05-20/neocons-at-play-making-liberals-squirm/?cid=hp:beastoriginalsL2
books…  http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: Thought in the marketplace of ideas

Always the marketplace of ideas.  Always the good, the vile, the trenchant. The ugly, the dividable, the constant.  The ill formed, the dense.  Always the right to think ...uncooked, overcooked, burnt out.  Undeveloped, lacking in substance, fact or logical base.  Slick, hateful. mundane.  Self assured, self righteous.  Grounded in the name of God and the angels.

Grand traditions of thought ... right; the instigation of prickly combat, the plays for hypothesis,synthesis, thesis.  Ideas flourish and blooms a thousand roses and food to feed millions.  Knowledge: study, combat, brass knuckles, rolling in dirt.  Good thought triumphs over bad, matched in the cauldron of public discourse.  This is so.

The battle of the network thoughts can be a supreme battle.... a ratings winner... the best damned scripted reality show on all media all the time, on all social media all the time, on all thug actions all the time.  Dream the dream.  Open the floor to pure imagination, examination.  Winners win.  Losers lose.  The vanquished get clobbered and virtue accedes as always to put up winners.  Grand spectacle here.  Grand spectacle there.  Grand spectacle everywhere.

Allow for the wins of the neanderthal chest thumpers.  Access to implementation of words and deeds is proof of God's favor... the win closes off discussion...eliminates virtue in the demeaned rancid other...closes off  rematch or challenge.  The game is of but power and self protection. The game is not of the ideas of soft hearted dupes.  Staunch honorable true believers think good thoughts, demand proper interpretations of all others.  Never give a sucker an even break.  Never give a challenger a voice. .... Democracy is not for the weak.  Only for those who can game it...Here there and everywhere.   Spring, summer or fall.

Behind the sacred god of gods, the freedom to be a rotten bastard can achieve many seedy ends.  Dregs of losers get kicked around in the streets.  The exchange of thought in the marketplace of ideas gives virtue to those who wish to shut down the marketplace.

David Crary  msnbc.com
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43120673

Politico
http://www.politico.com/blogs/politicolive/0511/Gingrich_says_he_and_Ryan_are_on_the_same_side.html

Asra Q Nomani  The Daily Beast.com
http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2011-05-14/osama-bin-ladens-porn-and-muslim-hypocrisy-on-sex/2/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: Hanging from an old oak tree

The flutters of sensuous hearts and the pulsating loins of girded men get solace and relief from the simple joys of comic release.  The health of and general demeanor of the ravaged put upon demand tonic and home.  The sweet birds and angels of paradise flutter simple wings and make symphonies.  It is always time for salvation.

The sullen stooge and the narrow troll do not yet grasp the salutary effects of feeling good.  The pranksters and the audacious know sure bits to turn to,  sure lures for ribald audiences.  Sweet nights and fancy  are always enlivened by the spark of sparks.

Evermore the fun rises.  Evermore  irrepressible.  Evermore lounging sleepily and languidly.  Evermore enjoying the tides, the cycles of the moon.

The meek shall inherit the earth.  warm springs always demand immersion.  Salvation always demands its time.  The tree never rots.   The fruit ....hanging low from an old oak tree.  One never forgets wonders.

Two from The week
The Week  Best columns

Best Columns international  The Week

books     http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: Live the pornographic

Public images and public brands can easily become inverted.  Those noble souls exercising free will and petrified manner easily choose against their own self interests all the time.  Their perceptions are weak.  Their premises are false.  Their logical constructs are frayed and superfluous.  They bring to the table of meager existence a predisposition towards abject dimness and poverty of mind.  They see not the heavens on earth offered them in their anguish as they self identify as noble souls, outlying outlaws, searing revolutionaries,  defenders of the faith, persons of sound judgment and cool reason.

Thought is sold.  It is not bought.  Freedom of thought is sold.  It is not bought.  Economic self interest is passed around and given away.  It is laughed away and made to look foolish.  The cloudy images of the sane and tolerant world are floated up and about, up and away by those knowing this endpoint of human endeavor and these clouds are massively comical and hopelessly ironic.  If only there were those of reason and virtue amongst the daily thugs of public discourse.  If only there were those of reason and virtue amongst those who stood tall and straight and bashed head for sustenance.  If only there were those that did not foam at the mouth and love always and always the red meat of swollen enemies.

The obtuse and the inbred know nothing save the next meal.  The sweet tastes of sweet tastes trump always the soothing health foods of good  doctors.  The wretched can never simply see what is to be seen.  The wretched can never simply experience what is there to be experienced, what is there bigger than a breadbox.

Enemies mine those who will not see.  Enemies mine those who will not hear.  Enemies mine those who live the cheap thrills and hot candy. Enemies mine those who live the pornographic.  We all live the pornographic.  We all love the pornographic.

Xan Rice  The Atlantic
http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/06/death-by-tabloid/8491/

http://bschiff.com/    the rancid bastards ..... the true.....the dumb ......  the honored creed....
books...

Lust Games: Usual Draconia

You can never tire of the the law of unintended consequence.  We can go to hell and back in order to make sure that good ends get accomplished and that good tools are set aside to accomplish them.  Kings of the world always trust in their own good intentions kings of the world laugh at the joke that power corrupts and that absolute power corrupts absolutely.  "The necessity of my invention demands that my intentions be sanitized and that my intentions be purer than yours...you damned harpie blank blank, you damned crying bastard blank blank."  Kings of the world are that which the world needs to set itself right.

Now this is a thing we all know.  The clear efficiency of dogma and faith, of certainty and divinity is what holds us all upright.  The monkeys have no such things.  They float with Darwin's bones.

Good god, certainty is a comfort and certainty is a thing that save us  our night terrors and gives us the strength to go on.  If you want to blow up a village then blow up a village.  It is ever necessary to blow up a village to preserve it.  That works the mind and frees the spirit.  Saviors and warriors, thinkers and doodlers know that power is good...it is good to have power, good to hold it, good to cherish it, good to shine and buff it.  No power is bad power if the power broker has , holds and owns it sweetly.

As for those unintended consequence......draconia can get turned on its head if it is not complete and totally ruinous.  Try as they might this is often the case...that plus the hysteria and apprehension of those wishing to ordain that the right world keeps going and going, expanding and expanding...like a big bad nightmarish balloon...this we know.  But lets do it anyway.  The simple truths of accomplished minds and self righteousness of accomplished spirits also deserve to have their days in the sun...til they blot it out.
Some usual Draconia.

New York Times
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/17/opinion/17tue1.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha211

By Bruce Ackerman and Oona Hathaway  Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/death-of-the-war-powers-act/2011/05/17/AF3Jh35G_story.html?hpid=z5

books
http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: Too damned hard to sell the stuff that works

Always honorable conundrums, the flies in the ointment.   Try to stand for goodness, justice, mercy, all singular goodness, motives and damned good people.  Damned good images.  Damned good damned support for damned good myths and martyrs sternly and strongly on the sides of the better angels of our nature or the better angels in heavens glorious chorus.

Love the chooser.  Hate the choice.  Love the honor.  Hell if its sullied.  Ahh, the fidelity.  The goodness, mercy freedom, passion, democracy, love, honor, obedience.  Ahh, the heart warming virtue.  The frustration, the failures, the damned fine print.  Some trick ponies that just won't do the tricks we got them for.

Fear the future and the past.  Patriotic words and happy fire brands.    Always entertain and sicken and turn right wrong and virtue to sham.  It takes work to frame the fine print.  And finesse.  And sureness.  Damned sureness.

The freedom to be unfree is a freedom granted those who get the freedom to choose.  Rhetoric tells them so.

What a problem  What a predicament.  Go freedom.  Go Democracy.  Go unholy jail and captivity.  Be free enough. Let freedom rin, stoically.  In heavens name let freedom ring, stoically.  Ahh, the complexity.  Ahh, the toil.  Ahh, the temperamental nature of worlds and words.

Passions.  Wishes.  Unfinished business...more.  War by other means.   Care what you wish for while holding high a beacon to the weary, blurred, wily little word.

Freedom from thought.  Freedom from action......Gone with the wind and the talk of the chump.  Ahh...... the usual sound and fury signifying nothing.  Balance of power.  This hallowed multipurpose all in one superbly adept and equally awe inspiring product and export, badge and club, sincere piece of the human soul and rotten apple democracy.  Ahh...... the usual sound and fury signifying nothing.

Sell Arab springs.  Wisconsin autumns. Central American knives.  Sell the cheap stuff in the pretty boxes.  Too damned hard to sell the stuff that works.  Too damned hard to build the stuff that works.

By Jeffery Goldberg  The Atlantic
http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/06/danger-falling-tyrants/8493/

politics, news, commentary

The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill…

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Lust Games: A good peace ... profound regrets

Parity.  Fairness.  Xenophobia.  Heartfelt compassion.  Good people all with thin skins.  The world is not an easy place.  The whining of poor babies echoes loudly from here to the Martian sunrise.  The stiff cries of hold my hand are deafening.....and often time a counter weight.
 
Too much the demeaning, the demonizing.  Too much the self righteousness, the closed mindedness, the self importance.  Too much the liberalizing efforts of the universal comforters.  The store gets given away to those who work it not.

The fierce battles rage on.  The rights of the group and the membership therein.  Membership is a thing open to passions and reasons and fears and such.  The melting pot of old does not always melt.  It does not always blend.  It is at mercy to the ingredients in the stew and the stew often has uncooperative parts, the main ingredients rancid, the diced additives being not of a combining kind.

Staunch defenders of the faith are oftentimes intolerant.  The non narrow us is the over ripe other.

Battlegrounds.  Power is often to save face and place, often a trip for the hard relentless.  The power is not me...diffuse it, challenge it, break it.  the enemy.

Cohesion not when there are prizes to be won, sacred cows to be hidden, ridden, enemies to love to hate.  Thugs can marshal the forces of the club...bring harm and grief... trump peace and joy and love and understanding.  For a good peace the thugs have to be noble thugs.  A good peace ... not often.


By Matthew Gray, Foreign Affairs  CNN World
http://globalpublicsquare.blogs.cnn.com/2011/05/09/the-osama-bin-laden-conspiracy-theories/?hpt=Sbin

The Economist
http://www.economist.com/node/18651184?story_id=18651184

Elizabeth Arrot  Voice of America
http://www.voanews.com/english/news/africa/Egyptian-Islamist-Calls-for-Tolerance-of-Coptic-Christians-121651444.html

politics, news, commentary

The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill…

http://bschiffwork.blogspot.com/   http://bschiff.com/ 

 

Lust Games: The ends of the luminous wise

Does it seem aimlessly absurd or just morally redundant.  Possibly just the eternal time looped images of the foolish put out to fill  venues that save the needy from not having anything of value to ruminate over or to take seriously.

Are all of the songs written by the same tin ears?  All of the lyrics cynical and deadly and prone to gastric over kill?  A fight for the ol' red white and blue requires always the applied abilities of accomplished phenoms who snake their ways through the pitfalls of dangerous governance in order to accommodate and advance the intricacies of  the economic, strategic, legal and secure tides of the moon.  The stew must come out well, cooked by the masters of  wiles.

Actors who play down rot and play up solid defined ends....the ends of the luminous wise,  see into the souls of men and declare the fragmented roads of survival workable in barren unfriendly terrain.

Rugged principled and tough virtue get championed, lead and cut hard resilience and paths through ill suited climes and ravaging wildlife.  Doers do and do well.   The free and the good need to stay that way.  With all appropriate help.

sensual lobbies
Aaron Mehta  Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0511/55025.html

sterling charm
Tom Cohen   CNN
http://us.cnn.com/2011/POLITICS/05/15/gingrich.interview/index.html?hpt=T2

The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill..

http://bschiffwork.blogspot.com/   http://bschiff.com/ 

Lust Games: They work the trenches

In my name they go to war.  In my name they rule the waves of production, the seas of competence.  In my name they accommodate the needs and wants of the needy, the wants and aspirations of the desirous, the happy little frolics of the serious and the moral.

In my name they please.  They distribute goods and services.  They distribute hearts and minds.  They distribute ease and sanity.

In my name they sower with efficiency, plunder with joy, return to me the dregs upon my investment.  They produce.  They camouflage.  They placate and the are that between us and a world without function.

In my name they do what there is that has to be done.  In my name they do it well.  They do it adroitly.  They have no spasms of regret.  They are professional.

In my name they grease the wheels of a better more sane world.  In my name they await their applause humbly.  In my name they regard the slings and arrows of dark screamers with regret and in my name they view with sad detachment.  They know better.  In my name.

In my name they are seasoned.  In my name they are worldly and wise and in my name they know the functions of the world.  In my name they are of one with the veils of hidden charity of spirit and the veils of the hidden philanthropy of the heart.  They are at one with progress in my name.  In my name we need ask no more.

In my name they are what they are.  In my name they act as they can.  In my name they act where they can.  They are good because they are.  In my name they are all that they can be.  In my name they act.  For themselves they act.  It is that true noble philosophy that serves.  They act so that I can be free.

And I support them.

The cost of costs
from Harpers by Scott Horton
http://www.harpers.org/archive/2011/04/hbc-90008063

The usual usual  from The Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/business/economy/obama-slams-oil-company-profits-as-gas-prices-surge/2011/04/29/AFPhwyGF_story.html

politics, news, commentary

The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill…

http://bschiffwork.blogspot.com/   http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: The winners of song and story

Short shrift and good riddance.  We ain't what we used to be, nobody says.  We ain't good or free or special or a beacon to the damned sullied world, nobody says.  We ain't men good and true standing straight and tall against the searing winds of abomination flying, nobody says.  Free the pioneer spirit, the individualists in us all.   Free the character of our tough honest hearts.

Clear of eye small of intolerance, break those who demean.  Muddle, and destroy, ravage and paw.  Good is good.  Tar and feather those who would play me a fool.  Be a good neighbor.  Respect those who are worthy of respect.  In this our world the great and near great of song and story come to show the way.  Kindly and with malice aforethought.

Love the one you love.  Pay the one you pay.  An ode to substantial use of influence.

Kenneth P Vogel    Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0511/54802.html

Scott Wong    Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0511/54710.html

politics, news, commentary
The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill…

http://bschiffwork.blogspot.com/   http://bschiff.com/ 

Lust Games: Pretty pictures

Ideas  rip the blood of bad actors of no repute and aria singers of no legend.  Unorthodox hard edged filters of desperation protect us from the no nonsense void.  Life churns.  The humble ruminate.  The grand reflect.  The rooted sincere have no idle moments.  We all draw pretty pictures.

Rat bastards and sultry party girls  know public interest.  Deficient lay persons come awash with scandal and comprehension.  The thoughts of the  fates  are the stuff of legend while public minds and group clouds make definitive statements.   Right thinking wonders are never astray while cogent minds contemplate their navels and grovel at the feet of those who know better.

Surveys of note.
Power Survey
http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2011/04/who-has-too-much-power-in-america/237312/

Public Opinion on Capitalism
http://www.economist.com/blogs/dailychart/2011/04/public_opinion_capitalism

politics, news, commentary
The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill…

http://bschiffwork.blogspot.com/   http://bschiff.com/ 

Lust Games: Lunch pail

Lunch pail issues.  Bothersome things that get turned inside out and deadly rancid in our productive, vibrant process.  Songs and dance defy gravity and sense and the lunch pail is such a basic tiresome thing.   Food.  Clothing.  Shelter.  Work.  A lack of sucker being.  A break from the cry babies around the edges.

Simple.  Basic.  Elementary.   There is not a world of wonder.  Primal political wonders protect us from the evils of the captains of the captains of capricious fortune, insidious finance and hard hearted industry.  The captains of the captains of capricious fortune, insidious finance and hard hearted industry protect us from the oh so menacing elite.   Privateers.  Governators.   Seed and innovate .  Identify and referee .  Scum stealers from on manipulative high.  Scum stealers from the on repression flowing low.   Keep worry away.  Do no harm.

Lunch pails watch with tears as mighty progress steps on and emulsifies lame lost losers.  Lunch pails watch with tears as the march of time tames easy.  The ones on the short end need  survive, live and exist.  So says the ones on the short end.  Demands the basic basics.  Pity is the home of  no glamor.  The short sentences of too much work define the too much of work of necessity.  Lunch pail owners  pay none too much respect to their lunch pails.  Speak volumes of a hell in a hand basket...Be convinced that that basket of joyless joy loves you so.

Marcelo Giugale  Huffington Post
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/marcelo-giugale/data-poverty-_b_860785.html?ir=Politics

Perry Bacon Jr. Post Politics  Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/44/post/obama-again-calls-for-trigger-to-help-balance-budget/2011/05/12/AFtJ9jyG_blog.html

politics, news, commentary

http://bschiffwork.blogspot.com/   http://bschiff.com/ 

Lust Games: The hypoctit is cute

Soft and cuddly and squishy and comforting.  Safe and serene and  reassuring.  A calm needful port in the mortal storm.

Warm homilies and sweet butter.   In sunny aura around the easy grin and infectious manner of the sweet bedtime friend.  Tales of woods' nestle, streams' ripple .... soft nostalgia.   We see our nearest and dearest  whisper attractive syllables of calm and peace.

Teddy bears of fertile joy make their way into our dreams and imaginations and give peace.  They are the chosen martyrs of self healing, the riotous cowboy atop the bull of petulance.  The honed, happy  honored.  The healing function in repose.

the psychic good comes from an intransigent spark.  All is trusted.  All is expected.  All is kind, love well chosen and love adroitly earned.

Salves and oils, slips and slides.   the depths of harmony and truth survive.  Sweet teddy bear of happy frivolity.  Sweet teddy bear of smashing joy.  The ramshackled flagrant hyperventilating hypocrite as beloved public character.

Banal  pretty pictures...

On Wisconsin
Wisconsin State Journal    Mary Spicuzza and Clay Barbour
http://host.madison.com/wsj/news/local/govt-and-politics/elections/article_5aa8adfa-7845-11e0-82be-001cc4c03286.html

On Congress  Politico
http://www.politico.com/blogs/glennthrush/0511/GOP_frosh_protest_Dems_rhetoric_on_Medicare.html

The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true.
http://bschiff.com/

Lust Games: Gazelles on horseback

All is fair in the world in which we live.  Governmental systems function as the trusting trust that the hammers of force and power will be wielded in a soothing and trusting way.  The hammers of force and power are trusted  hammers as long as the hammers of force and power have the ability to force and hammer away as they wish to force and hammer away.

The gentle gentry who, gently of de facto, gently cooperate with the gentle strains of enforcement, the gentle legitimacy of law do so gently and willingly as their gentle willing wills are gently coerced with willing tales and willing stories.  Gentle stasis is reached when the game gamed is the game is understood by all understanding boobs and all understanding boobs know their sullen little places.

Marvelous systems of imperial statehood operate marvelously upon the gentle principle of the honorable consent of the honorably governed.  There are many a type of many an honorable back alley consent.  A disproportionate amount of deviation from the accepted norm can be a bad thing for the general welfare.  In the highly adaptable and flexible images of the simple peasant villagers and serfs trotting off to market that which the simple governed can put up with is a simple barren thing.

Costs are paid by the bearer and the flouter, can easily defer to the toxic wastes of roving inequities and the bon fires of intimidation and self preservation.  Costs may blow up in pretty little flames when the rational for all cooperative cooperation gets to blow up in pretty little flames.

The eight by ten glossies of fire walls against chaos enhance stability.  Power and things and money and such need be good hammering hammers in order to a defacing ugly backlash from the suckers be.

Fair is fair when fair is skewed in a lovely prism, an accident of accepted motion.  The perceived mechanics of a gamed system by the non gamers who can be taken on... unwanted chaos theory.

Unhinge the scales of justice and strange brews brew.  All good cooperation comes from ennui.  Make the ennui go away and the unmoving may move.

Gazelles on horseback.

The Economist
http://www.economist.com/node/18652037?story_id=18652037

David Walker and Robert Bixby   Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0511/54369.html


http://bschiff.com/   the rancid bastards ..... the true.....the dumb ......  the honored creed.....

Lust games: An ode to the unknown communicator

The romantic twaddle of burnt rats and the longings and feelers and resources of the dupes of the sweet songs of love thrown to us from the pulpits of the sly.

Listen sweetly to the self loving poems and paeans of breeding, baring, privilege and wonder as he/ she puzzles over reason well for  endearing ends.  Never know things that go bump in the night.  Always fear them.  Never look, always see the little monsters outside of our rancid dreams.

Strife, petition, leering gratification.  Gentrification.  Our putrid little mirrors can reflect too much light, light that burns and singes, burns and singes in the dark corners of the constant night of holy ignorance.  Heady rewards come to those who dance with the nimble and pristine.  The precise.  Lure and aphrodisiac.  Heady rewards come to those who dance with the ones who shimmy well and perform well.

Characters and preeners.  Dancers and singers.  All manner of ribald show and tell come to us as we trundle on our merry little ways.  Dismissive arrogance, weapons of masquerading follies attract us as  cheap perfume.   Cheap perfume attracts those for whom the mawkish and the patty functions best.
Pretty pictures and fancy illusory pieces.  The flaccid aerial circuses we gawk at make us proud.  Over sized performers in the trees waiting to fall off or to be picked by the tree pickers, we feel their pain.  These trees bear strange tasty fruits,  strange tangy nectars, the taste exotic, the after taste lingering majestically.   The sirens sweep softly
.
Junk yard cats and howling dogs go bay at the night, the moon.  Fairy tales and sun rays define the joys and pleasures gained and sent by the grand operas of fondled passion and inebriated score.  Contraltos serene always allay fears in holidays of dead beyond the pale of contrition.

We love the ones we love.  lust, hell, dominance and greed are trips to be taken.

politics, news, commentary
The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill..
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Lust Games: Democracy for lovers

Goodness and mercy are not always goodness and mercy.  Hope and dreams are not always hope and dreams.  The goodly heroes are not always plaster saints.

On our terms things are not always on our terms.

Democracy......just the sound of the word...the texture of its artful arcane syllables cascading out of the mouth, over perched and parched lips....the breaths deepen, the body tremors, and there is a comforting sniffle to back up the hope and pride.

The grand and great religion of the non secular masses.  The grand and great religion of the sweet, lovely secular champions of honesty, honor and fair play.  the end point of all politics.  The fair shake for all mankind.  We get it.  We got it.  We import it.  We sell it.  We cherish it.  We mangle it.  We push it through hell to see if it is or is not a cardboard illusion.  Tis a strong thing this Democracy.  it mirrors many images.  It shows off many hues and colors.  it is purposeful and pure anything of care and caring.  Always to be improved.  Always to be made superior and worthy.

We love it dearly and cherish it completely.  And we understand it as well.

Ideas

Joe Klein in Time
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2068607,00.html

From  The Weekly Standard
http://www.weeklystandard.com/Content/Public/Articles/000/000/015/854xppnl.asp


http://bschiff.com/   the rancid bastards ..... the true.....the dumb ......  the honored creed.....the books I am pushing ....

Book Info

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Books

Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel

Back alleys. Aphrodisiacs. Sweet honor, power, revenge. A hard, tough country with life full, intimidation fast, heat coming as a whippet, a whirlwind. A hard cynical little novel. 50,000 words. Dominance Games. A dirty rapt primer. a mean searing little story. Intimidation stalks time and decades. A tempered stew radiates out from the sinews and muscles of longing and regret.
http://www.amazon.com/Dominance-Games-Essay-Power-ebook/dp/B004SHEV74/ref=pd_ecc_rvi_cart_2
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39291

Lust Games: An Essay on Honor A Novel

Honor; the wicked master. Redemption, the tough and unforgiving act. Lust; the wicked mistress. Death. Legacies. A heathen home. Paradise lost. Lust driven temptresses. Besotted clowns. Worlds in flux. Cynical chiselers, power hungry bastards, low rent power vacuums. Integrity. Victory. Two lovers. A muse. Lust Games: an Essay on Honor, 58, 000 words. High rent parades of fools.
http://www.amazon.com/Lust-Games-Essay-Honor-ebook/dp/B004SHEX0Y/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2
politics, news, commentary
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Lust Games: The pangs of past regret

And again the night comes and the day breaks and the story unfolds.  And again the parties interact and the trends trend and at the bottom of the pile is that long lamented world gone by.  It was different then.  In ways that were special.  In ways that were good and sincere, lovely and tenacious.  Charm rang us awake.  Hope put us to sleep.  Things were better then.

The sun was brighter then. The days drifted with the clouds then and there was a smile in the air.  Bonds were stronger then.  Fabrics were tougher, more prone to endure.  Thoughts were more thoughtful then, more rational.  Principles were more principled .  The honorable were more honorable.

The laments of past foolishness hurt much deeper, then.  The pangs of past regret ran stronger.  The path from then to now was much clearer then, much clearer.  The virtues were more virtuous then.  The then was not as good.

Two from Harper's Index

Harpers Index Feb 2011

Harpers Index April 2011

http://www.harpers.org/archive/2011/04/page/0013

http://www.harpers.org/archive/2011/02/page/0013


http://bschiff.com/   the rancid bastards ..... the true.....the dumb ......  the honored creed.....

Lust Games: The text of aggression needs daily editing

Action.  Need, like and revere action.  The  milk of political debt.  The milk of political debauchery.  The tool against entrenched evil doers and holy gnomes.  We celebrate action.  Desperate for balance and control, we celebrate action.  Stack and attack the transgressors.  usurp the trust heaven sent they cerebrally represent.

The avenging angel, the hidden conqueror, the mighty sword.  Thew punitive best is always as the rotten bastards stand up and shout.  It is a cathartic thing and we wish mounds of it to spread.  We wish the absolutes.   Absolute power, a joy and pleasure.  Punishing power a prime factor in joy.  Heed the rumble
rotten bastards.  Heed the rumble.

...the punisher cometh...he cometh hard.  the threat, the image, the fair warning...the vitality .... the life blood of certain restitution, redemption.

The text of aggression is a quiet text.  It needs daily editing.  We edit.

From Chris Cillizza  Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/the-fix/post/wisconsin-recalls-hit-deadline-where-things-stand/2011/05/04/AFFVvQyF_blog.html

From  On Media  Politico
http://www.politico.com/blogs/onmedia/0511/WSJ_launches_WikiLeaks_rival.html?showall


The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true…..the thrill..
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Lust Games: Void me

To be the messenger of the gods and informed the uninformed newly.  To be a potion mixer, a torture fixer, a redoubtable waste of uninspiring talent.  To ramble, to indulge, to be facetious, fatuous and debonair.   Fix the story blindly and model it in perfume.  Be an eerie piece of dirt in the loving muck, a dainty charlatan and buffoon.

Touch me.  Feel me.  Make me over and give me breakfast.  Treat me with affection.  Cherish my gratitude.  Picture me my pictures.  Speak me my words.  Envelope me well.  I love a long night with its comforts and joys.

The right practice of right practice is upon us.  Users pay and the users play.  Users use and users tell.  The power is to the user.  The user knows ... the constant user knows...the democratized user knows...the common among us know.  Through sham and pretense, claustrophobia and hype the world is awash with informed common sense keeping up appearances and keeping  down wretched excess..... it is one damned big rancid circus after all ...  blessing the beasts and the children.

The mornings know.  The paths to hot and hell, cool and low, to slumber and back know.  The bored to death and the spoon fed sick slick know.    The monster never sleeps.  All is known.  All is seen.  Hardy shame for those who are not...... Vivaciousness is the key.  Vital organs are key.  Eyes here there and eyes everywhere...

It is good to be free and smart and basking in dumb enlightened in times of joyous rays of godlike sun.  Be a proud seeker of the holy grail.  Move me.  Feed me.  Fondle me.  Make me cry.  I learn because I am.

Patrick B. Pexton  Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/a-journalists-no-1-platform-neutral-duty/2011/04/29/AFi1KyGF_story.html

From Columbia Journalism Review
http://www.cjr.org/news_meeting/what_are_americas_most_essenti.php


The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true.
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Lust Games...the kindness of others

Nobody knows nothin.  Talk talk talk.   Fictions grow and then recede and then grow again.  Enter the universal interpreters who tell us the world is as it is supposed to be and the track of things only frays around the edges.  Scare tactics and violent tactics and dead certainties know that the general narrative of our lives changes only slowly and in simple ways reflecting only the lack of product or energy or means of existence.

Small things these, that matter not to the core tides of history.  The core tides of history, the dead certainties of identity and narrative and home and country fit all of the regular patterns of a world in molasses.  War and peace, threat and disintegration... the primitive's preserve.  They are, the primitives, the exotic who come in from the stone age.... at what price.... corruption, moral corruption, general blindness, wishful thinking, ....the befits of instability and diffusion of organized power. Better than Christmas and Valentines Day.  The gifts of false purpose.

Corruption of motive is long a certain thing.  The blindness of interpretation is a keeper.  Hell for losers.  Tis tough enough to win.  The lost lost losers need their own narratives.  Trust in the kindness of others.  Go in many pretty circles. Wait for good publicity.

Central American drugs

The Economist
http://www.economist.com/node/18560287

Terrorism and us

Peter Beinart The Daily Beast
http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2011-05-02/osama-bin-ladens-death-time-to-end-war-on-terror/#


The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true.
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Lust Games: Yesterday's toys

So.  Now we have a moment in time.  It is a fine and great moment...a moment that can be a magic springboard and springboard us back to the very best versions of our very best selves.  It can be a springboard to the very best selves that we hold dear and deep in our hearts, the ones we think of when we day dream and are heroic.

We are teary eyed wonders saluting our flags of strength and it is not by accident that we brave many things in order to envision the best of natures noblemen and women.  Honor fulfilled, large injustices not metastasized, as one we cherish our common suffering and our common courage and valor.  Oh but were that my exploits could be chivalrous and true.  Oh but were I a standard bearer for the sure and true.  My heart would sing forever.

We tell our selves.  We tell our selves again and again.  Oh, but were that me, the soldier of soldiers, the brave stoic soldier of soldiers.  Oh that the moment in time to be good is here again.  Oh that it is a moment of no frustration, of no foolishness, of no ass backwards behavior.  Oh, if only.

As have been many that have come before, so often, so hard charging, so eminently luminous.....the past is prologue.  It sets that which must come next.  Our past was yesterday.  It will not bear on tomorrow.   Our reactions harsh and fearful and weak.  Our past small, narrow and petty.

We come from hard times and look through many prisms.  There has been frustration and false premise.  There has been false horizons and false dawns.  Actors act.  They wonder.  They cannot see yesterday.  They cannot see tomorrow.

Yesterday's toys.

David Frum...The Week
http://theweek.com/article/index/214436/life-in-the-real-world

Roger Simon...Politico
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0411/53477.html


The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true.
http://bschiff.com/

Laws may be a sham

Perfect villains.  Perfect fools.  The rush to build government, business, economies.  The rush to build equity, fairness.

The short hairs.  Whom got whom by them, the short hairs.  The laws of unintended consequence.  Who rages for them.  lasting fancy and a gift, all laws of unintended consequence.

The self interest of the self interested is the usual.  The fears and cries of the put upon is the dear.  Perceptions  are eternally skewed.  Perceptions of power bases are eternally skewed.  Readings of power are eternally flawed.

Puzzlers ponder answers, define not questions.  The powers of those in the catbirds seat always trump rage and rant.

Place the catbird seat.

Laws may be a sham

Nation states, also.

Two for the show.

From Times Book Review

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/13/books/review/book-review-the-executive-unbound-by-eric-a-posner-and-adrian-vermeule.html?scp=1&sq=The%20Executive%20Unbound%20-%20By%20Eric%20A.%20Posner%20and%20Adrian%20Vermeule%20.&st=cse

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/27/books/review/Giry-t.html?scp=5&sq=parag%20khanna&st=cse
The dumb ...... the honored creed. The rancid bastards ...... the true.
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