Talk Like A Pirate Day
Sep. 19th, 2008 02:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyAgainst my better judgment, this is a public post. It makes an important political point which is very politically incorrect. Feel free to redistribute as desired without making changes.
A bunch of tired twenty and thirty somethings are gathered around a conference room table. In the corner, a man in his fifties puffs contentedly on a forbidden phallic cigar. No smoking rules do not apply to HIM and everyone in the room knows it.
Drugs of choice include nicotine, caffeine and in two cases cocaine, courtesy of the bathroom stall. It's a strategy session.
Someone writes the goal on the whiteboard. McCain, in red marker. Then he puts a black OSAMA on the board, and a circle and slash through that. A few people flicker a smile which rapidly fades.
"We all know the stakes. We've GOT to beat this man. None of us will have jobs three months from now if we don't. We've been running the lowest, dirtiest, meanest campaign in the history of American electoral politics. He should be in the toilet. Instead . . . Sally, what are the latest poll figures again?"
"Dead heat, too close to call, Tom."
"We've GOT to break this log jam. Ideas?"
A flurry of ideas are written on the white board. "IT'S THE ECONOMY, STUPID" -- the rallying cry of the successful Clinton campaign, which everyone in the room loathes but admires. "GENDER CARD" "TAX AND SPEND" "MUSLIM" "SOFT ON TERROR" "CRIME" "GAS PRICES" "DRILLING" "RACE CARD" "FOOD PRICES" "LIBERAL"
The older man in the corner of the room speaks, briefly and baldly.
"Nigger dick."
The room falls silent. Did he just say what they think he said?
"Nigger dick," he says again. "Race card plus gender card plus fear of crime in one fell swoop. Remember the kindergarten sex ed ad?"
"The economy is like boiling a frog. You have to turn up the heat on the middle class slowly, so they don't realize they're getting boiled. First make women re-enter the workforce. Then raise commodity prices like food and gasoline. Then ratchet down on credit and increase housing costs. The mortgage crash will get them all into apartments yet. Everyone knows a renter is just a wage slave. We can keep ignoring the economy issue right into November.
"But the real fear factor is the OTHER, the different. Take his change rhetoric and shove it up his Harvard black ass. I want an ad. I want it brutal. I want him to look blacker than a pair of army boots. I want a crotch shot, use a paper towel roll if you have to. I want an ad about a Muslim nigger raping the country with his big black cock -- if the voters are silly enough to let him.
"I want it on the air on 29 October." Silence. "MOVE!"
All the twenty somethings and thirty somethings bend to use their laptops, cell phones, Blackberries and note pads. They know where their bread is buttered.
Half of them are scared, jealous, frightened of the new terms the race has been cast on. Limp. The other half . . . tell themselves they are scared. Tell themselves that they are disgusted. But if they admitted it to themselves, they'd have to admit their stiffening cocks and wet panties.
You can't really destroy something unless you know it fully. Unless you grok it. And the closeted gay men and upper class straight women who will destroy Barack Obama . . . they grok nigger dick.
A bunch of tired twenty and thirty somethings are gathered around a conference room table. In the corner, a man in his fifties puffs contentedly on a forbidden phallic cigar. No smoking rules do not apply to HIM and everyone in the room knows it.
Drugs of choice include nicotine, caffeine and in two cases cocaine, courtesy of the bathroom stall. It's a strategy session.
Someone writes the goal on the whiteboard. McCain, in red marker. Then he puts a black OSAMA on the board, and a circle and slash through that. A few people flicker a smile which rapidly fades.
"We all know the stakes. We've GOT to beat this man. None of us will have jobs three months from now if we don't. We've been running the lowest, dirtiest, meanest campaign in the history of American electoral politics. He should be in the toilet. Instead . . . Sally, what are the latest poll figures again?"
"Dead heat, too close to call, Tom."
"We've GOT to break this log jam. Ideas?"
A flurry of ideas are written on the white board. "IT'S THE ECONOMY, STUPID" -- the rallying cry of the successful Clinton campaign, which everyone in the room loathes but admires. "GENDER CARD" "TAX AND SPEND" "MUSLIM" "SOFT ON TERROR" "CRIME" "GAS PRICES" "DRILLING" "RACE CARD" "FOOD PRICES" "LIBERAL"
The older man in the corner of the room speaks, briefly and baldly.
"Nigger dick."
The room falls silent. Did he just say what they think he said?
"Nigger dick," he says again. "Race card plus gender card plus fear of crime in one fell swoop. Remember the kindergarten sex ed ad?"
"The economy is like boiling a frog. You have to turn up the heat on the middle class slowly, so they don't realize they're getting boiled. First make women re-enter the workforce. Then raise commodity prices like food and gasoline. Then ratchet down on credit and increase housing costs. The mortgage crash will get them all into apartments yet. Everyone knows a renter is just a wage slave. We can keep ignoring the economy issue right into November.
"But the real fear factor is the OTHER, the different. Take his change rhetoric and shove it up his Harvard black ass. I want an ad. I want it brutal. I want him to look blacker than a pair of army boots. I want a crotch shot, use a paper towel roll if you have to. I want an ad about a Muslim nigger raping the country with his big black cock -- if the voters are silly enough to let him.
"I want it on the air on 29 October." Silence. "MOVE!"
All the twenty somethings and thirty somethings bend to use their laptops, cell phones, Blackberries and note pads. They know where their bread is buttered.
Half of them are scared, jealous, frightened of the new terms the race has been cast on. Limp. The other half . . . tell themselves they are scared. Tell themselves that they are disgusted. But if they admitted it to themselves, they'd have to admit their stiffening cocks and wet panties.
You can't really destroy something unless you know it fully. Unless you grok it. And the closeted gay men and upper class straight women who will destroy Barack Obama . . . they grok nigger dick.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-19 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:06 pm (UTC)Not to mention right on the mark.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 06:41 pm (UTC)I appreciate the brevity of your analysis.