Archive for April, 2009

~The Pig Flew~

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

 Pig Flew

EarthSourceMedia Reports for April 28th, 2009

~The Pig Flew~

Instantly, it all came flooding back- the terrible cacaphony of jumbo jet impacts, the horrible maelstrom that has come simply to be called, 9-11. It was all done with the sweeping wings of a giant metal bird, the rapacious roar of jet engines gone awry, and delivered to the city of New York this morning, April 27th, 2009. With no warning, no fanfare; as a thief in the night having choosen instead to go the daylight route of the professional burgler. Maximum impact on the nerves of those still suffering traumatic stress syndrome from a maximum impact. A swift suicide flyby by a massive jetliner, right at the Statue of Liberty, with fighter jets in toe, no less…

All for a mere photo opportunity? Given the o.k. by the United States Government? Oh, most certainly- and Peter Pan is real, as well. Or perhaps this was an off season visit by Saint Nick himself, both sleigh and an elf! And there’s that long-for-sale bridge just across the river in Brooklyn. And perhaps -just perhaps, the good if shaken people of New York City are still yet willing to make the gullable purchase.

Brooklyn, NY:

TONITE said the soiled Fulton Street marquis, looming above a Brooklyn corner where tommorows men and todays youth honed their skills at a game called craps. THE CHILLI CON CARNE RAP BAND- ONE NIGHT ONLY. Inside, the smoke rose from the dinner table section and an olive-skinned man spat his poetry through the open wound of a microphone: 

(driving bass/hypnotic tribal drum)

“Is it really a pandemic? Brother, that’s academic.

Walls around our country, the agents at our borders-Tell me, brains of shizzle, does torture follow orders?

An Illuminati in a mazzeratti? A manican in the Vatican!

‘Zat plane screaming above bringing a message of love, or is it mo’ strategy from the Master ‘C’, the ex VP, AKA Dick Cheney?

Did you wonder as you dove for cover, was this Rove with another trove from his treasure of twisted pleasure, designed to freak the mind of the kind, tweak the meek and the weak ’till they hunch the hell over with a sorry physique…”

In the back row, two kids talk over the din, one asking the other, “What’s he talkin’ ’bout?” And the answer came, “Not a thing ta’ concern us, cousin.”  

Manhattan, NY:

“It’s them again! They’re back to avenge Saddam Hussein!!” screamed a wild-eyed New Yorker. He rushed down the flight of stairs, joining the petrified masses pouring into the streets of Mahattan. Children called to their mothers from beneath hordes who trampled all in their path; all 5 boroughs of the ‘big apple’  had became as a Rhode Island nightclub fire.

“Not again!” pleaded a woman fumbling with her rosary, “Not again!”

Crawford, Texas:

“Ah, so you’re termed, what of it? Look at all the apples you shook down yonder! A credit to yer race, I say. Remember, the military will be yours, not his or theirs. Hell, let ’em have the whitehouse- it’s got more bugs than Mexican tap water. We’ll know every move they make! But the military- our boys in cammo- they’ll never have them. When we said ‘mission accomplished’, it was accomplished by then. And no one can even speak out against us- you saw what happened to Neapalitano when that study came to light saying troops are easy recruits for the Aryans- she was forced to apologize! No more Posse Cumitatus, heck man, we’re sittin’ in the cat bird seat fer sure. And if they ever come for us about torture, we’ll give the melting pot a surprise they’ll never forget- a big scary jumbo jet circling around an even bigger version of my middle finger!”

Burbank, California (5 months later):

“No, FOX TV will most certainly not carry Mr. Obama’s speech, no sir! What does he think I’m running here, a free ride for every Tom Dick and Harry who would lead the free world? The answer is no, and that’s my final word.”

“Yes, Mr. Murdoch”.

Washington DC:

“But did anybody ever consider the value in safety, you idiot? Call it torture, call it annoyance, call it anything you want, this country hasn’t been hit since that fatefull morning of (begin humming melody of ‘Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!’) nine eleven! We got good info out of that tortu- I mean, those harsh interrogation techniques. Now get the F#@!K out before I have Blackwater- I mean ‘Xe’- throw you out you miserable liberal media maid you! Somebody get me O’rielly on the phone- now!”

“Y-y-y-y-y-you got ’em, hello? Who is this?”

“Bill O’reilly?”

“This is Bill, who is this?”

“XXXXXXXXXXX”

“Yes sir! And how can I serve my country today, sir?”

“I knew I could count on you, Bill. Look, I need someone to lean on the military chief of…”

“A plane? You mean like, a big jet?”

“Not just any plane, Bill- AIR FORCE ONE!”

“That’s gonna scare a lot of…..o-o-o-o-o-hhhhh, ohhh, now I, now I see…hee hee hee ha ha!”

“Yeah, so take care, bye bye.”

“Hee hee ha…*click!*

Melbourne, Australia:

“OK, so has the Navy perfected our Swine Flu at the border?”

“Yessir, it’s been mixed with the human version and we now are confirming sustained person-to-person. We’re at the verge of pandemia, just say the word”.

“Word- and the word is, ‘spread’! I want it in Canada, New Zealand, New York and..”

“Aren’t you hitting New York kind of hard sir? I mean they’ve already been throug-”

“When I want your opinion Ill give it to you, you snot nosed…”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t quite under-”

“When I rattle your cage, …you..”

“Sir?”

“When I ask for toilet paper, you roll out!”

“Ohh, ohh, uh, a-huh ha ha, I see.”

“Good. Now get somebody to close a school, any school. Try those catholic schools, they’re always happy to scare hell out of…”

“Yessir.”

New York City, April 27th:

Karl

‘Project Sky-Scare’

“Karl, come in Karl!* fzzz-bzzzt-”

“Karl here come back”

“What’s your 20 Karl?”

“Airborne and approaching the lucky lady sir!”

Bzzzt-pop”Roger that sky-scare, out”

“Out- Yeeeeeee-haaaaawwww!! Lookit them boogers run! Ha ha!!!”

Washington DC:

“Um, Mr. President, it’s urgent. I’ve got a lady from New York on the phone, she sounds level headed but the story’s a bit fantastic- says there’s a jumbo jet circling her apartment building since 7:00 o’clock, and people are ready to jump out of windows. we’ve traced the call to the project apartments in Manhattan- she checks out.”

“Good heavens! Well, I guess this is where George Bush sat and read to children about goats or something, right?”

“Yes I believe so, sir.”

“Sir? There’s a call from capcom saying it’s all true, but just a photo op sir”.

“Scaring thousands out of their ba-jeezers? By whose orders??”

Australia:

“Fzzzt-crackpop BzzztKarl, Dick, Rupert- ha ha!! Look behind you Karl!! Lookit me you assholes!! ha haaa ha haaa! Wooooooooooo! USA! USA! USA! W-ooooooooooooo! Who’s bad now, motherf@!$Ker ?”

O’reilly

“Bill? O’reilly is that you?”

“Dam right Dick!” Hadaya like me now? W-ooooooooooooo!” USA! USA!

“Bill, where are you?”

“Right behind Karl- in the fighter!! W-oooooooooooooo! Ha ha! Get the photograph! Get the picture!! Where’s your guy?”

“On the Empire State Building there- johnson, come in! Are you there? Photo Officer Johnson, are you there, come in! Take the picture- take the picture!!”

“Sir- I’m ready to take- I’m trying to- oh no!!!!!!”

“Johnson, report!”

“Karl?”

“Yeah Dick”.

“Rupert?”

“Yes, what about the photo?”

“Oh darnit, darnit, darnit, darnit, DAM!!”

“Johnson, what is it?”

BATTERY EXHAUSTED.

“im sorry dick.”

“You’re ass is dead meat.”

‘sir?’ ‘take another pass! take anoth…”

d-e-a-d.”

That’s it for this week folks. Stay tuned next week for, AMERICA is RIGHT- FAR RIGHT!

 our founder

our founder

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‘Ode to Guantanamo’

Saturday, April 18th, 2009

Ode to Guantanamo 

EarthSourceMedia Reports for April 18th, 2009

‘Ode to Guantanamo’ 

by joey racano

Popular culture

 as viewed through a mulcher

People in charge

on bones like a vulture

Brain’s being filled

children being killed

A boy ain’t a man

’till blood has been spilled

playing video games

then flying jet planes

Come out from the orchard

it’s time to be tortured”

The heavy metal gates clanged shut, echoing around the compound like the lowest note on a piano. Like always, I looked toward the low-hung ceiling, talking to God just ‘neath my breath- “Thank you, lord, for giving me this chance to help America, keep ‘er safe. Thank you, Jesus, for the chance to get this towel head off the streets of Bahgdad, away from good christians-to-be. And most of all lord, thank you for making sure the next one tortured won’t be me'”

Behind the nameless doors, faceless prisoners counted the footsteps; seven, eight, nine- “Oh no, nine! That means me!’ Oh please, Allah, Yahwie, Jesus, Jahovah- make it fast, don’t let it last’. I have been a good man, a servant of divinity. Of self, of family, of duty.” 

The keys jingled their song of menace, like a wind chime in the halls of hell. Handsome young men in starched uniforms and perfect haircuts siezed the prisoner by the arms, slipped netting over his face and marched him to the gurney. It was time.

I filled the water buckets with precision, every movement, every sound, designed for maximum terror. I started out one drip at a time, one drop, drip, drop, ployp, plip, ployp, plip…

Then the water rushed bucketward like an angry North Dakota river, and the drip-drop of our young prisoners tears may as well have been my imagination. I tried hard to reconcile the irony of it all; trying to be creative in my quest to cause this prisoner terror, yet he was the terrorist. Hmm. We laid him on the gurney upside down, feet toward the ceiling, and it reminded me of the crucifixion of Christ.

“Blub blub’, he said, ‘blub blub!”

A gurgle and a lie

“Arg, ahh, he went, argh ahh-

God, please don’t let me die!”

We finished with him 11 days later

knowing that America had become that much greater

And though we avoided church and so the eyes of our creator

we knew deep down we would answer to him later 

And finally, -a confession! That dirty rotten slime!

Not only was he a terrorist, he was guilty of the crime

of wanting to be different from what we hold so dear

like Jesus mom and apple pie and TV’s full of fear

I went back down to my underground and turned the TV on

and witnessed 14 murders, a game show and a don;

I knew right then that we were right

and the towel heads must die!

Thank you lord, for letting me serve

now, please excuse me,  I must cry”

joey and cindy

a poet and a patriot

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