The Curmudgeon


Wednesday, October 05, 2011

Just Napalm: Export USA

At night, these visions of helicopters and the Decent Muslim Zone
Love as mediated through the prism of humanitarian interventionism. Purity of motivation through strength of belief led him up the cerebellar stairway to the final chat show. His mind filled with the lonely heroes of World War III, he advised his students to give up on being loved.

fused in Tony's mind with the spectre
He had always believed that politics was always about belief. He believed that belief in his beliefs would bring an end to this temporary absence of self-belief in their belief in what he believed they believed he believed in, and that rediscovery of their belief in self-belief would resurrect their belief in his belief for the future of their beliefs.

of his children's faces. The lanterns of their eyes
Children as a factor in political economy. Emotional response to images of bombed and starved children exceeded response to images of healthy and educated children by a factor of between three and fourteen in normal adults, and between twelve and twenty-seven in tabloid readers.

winked from a million emblazoned mugs.
Politics as a branch of advertising. Respondents scored images of children consistently high for selling power. In the case of Roman Catholics, the degree of response to images of juveniles sometimes exceeded the response to images of sex and violence.

Worshipping him, they summoned from his sight all the legions of the bereaved.
Elements of an apocalypse: (1) Party membership card, somewhat soiled; (2) Copy of Principles of Ingsoc by "B.B."; (3) Reproduction of Francisco Goya's Disasters of War Plate LXI, "Perhaps they are of another breed"; (4) genital organs of a male poodle, packed in second-best Texan blueberry preserve.

By day Israeli jets crossed the damned causeways of the peace process,
The psychopath as hero. Grinning, he bends to show them the scars on his back. Lanes of proud flesh cross and recross the dorsal jaundice, marking new routes towards the holy bunkers.

unique ciphers of currency and sainthood.
As he tried to delay the orgasm building at the base of his urethra, one of his eyes began to twitch and glitter like a demented nuclear warning light somewhere in Albania. Without thinking, Cherie murmured, "Herbert Lom."

with apologies to J G Ballard

Me at Poetry-24
Party Colours


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