Rotten Bastards

It's a blog. It's a way of life. It's many things in between.

Sunday, 20 January 2008

America the Beautiful

America has always been kind to me even though it sometimes is abusive. Crossing the border into the country has never been a problem because I am a blonde, blue eyed European male. Maybe they know that because I'm white I statistically will have more money to spend?

I'll drive back across the border and be bored of the useless shit that I bought. I could have bought it in Canada but sometimes you can save money on the exchange.

America won't stop molesting me at home, either. I'll turn on the television and have the choice to watch fulfilling shows like Friends, Survivor or America's Next Top Model.

If I get hungry and want to fill my fat face, I'll be confused by all the choices.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't able to make choices. The citizens of Communist Russia had it easy. They had a gun pointed at their fucking head to do something.

Sometimes I wish it was that way here, that way I would have an excuse for my apathy.

Saturday, 19 January 2008

Fuck Yeah!

I think of opposites.

I think of humanity.

I think about all the shit and all the bile and all the love and all the beauty.

It's like the total dichotomy of all existence
no yin and yang, embracing differences bullshit here.
Total fucking polar opposites man.

The poorest of the poor and the richest of the rich
standing side-by-side
and reminiscing
about "the good old days when they didn't tax your labor
and the niggers worked for us."

From one side to the other.
Back and front
everything you could possibly imagine.

Baby killing
genocidal muthafuckers
on world domination.

Peaceniks, beatniks, freethinkers.
Lovers of the earth
and protectors of her children.

We the people, we are the ones who rule
we are the deciders
we are responsible.

See us as murderers
or heroes
or both.
See us as

freedom personified.

The freedom to choose includes the freedom to choose badly,
very fucking badly.

We are the american dream and the american nightmare
walking hand in hand
like some kinda bad soap opera romance
big chins and tall hair
staring at the red light waiting
to hear someone yell "cut."

Friday, 18 January 2008

The Statute of Liberty and the new Amerikkka

"Give me your tired"
Wanted: Encinitas California- 7-11 requires staff for the "graveyard shift" BIG money and opportunities for advancement. Pursue your happiness today. We are an equal opportunities employer.

"Your poor"
Wanted: Salinas California- A&B Produce requires "farmhands" for seasonal work. Earn great money working outdoors in a stable, friendly environment.

"Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free"
Wanted: Tempe, Arizona- WE want you: for a FUN career in fashion! From your hands to the runway. Needed immediately 45 workers at G&R textiles. No experience necessary.

"The wretched refuse of your teeming [ocean, RIVER, etc] shore."
Wanted- San Diego, California- Needed border security patrol men to protect our borders, our livelihoods and way of life. Apply to the "Minutemen Militia" (not in that way, you queer) 215 Turner Road Haley, Texas 14010.

"Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me."
Wanted: Pfizer corp- Miami, Fl is seeking "product" testers. Try new products before the rest! Side effects may include fun, sweating, and great pay!

"I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
Wanted: The "White" House Requires- Painter/Door Repair Man. Experience with pyrite is a must! Apply directly to G.W. Bush, Supreme Leader 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW Washington, DC 20500 .

Thursday, 10 January 2008

My Town

(The following piece is by an artist called Buddy Wakefield. I highly recommend his work, especially if you like performance poetry. Check him out on Youtube or go to

My town is cute
like a bumper sticker
like when Christians sport POWER OF PRIDE bumper stickers.
What is it you people don’t understand about pride being a deadly sin?

My town is cute like GOD BLESS AMERICA bumper stickers.
Judging by our excessive luxuries, those stickers really work.
Now if we can just get God to bless the whole world.

Alix Olsen’s bumper sticker reads I LOVE MY COUNTRY.
But my town doesn’t see other people.
We’re just too cute
like the difference between what we say and what we do
like the fact that violence in any form
is sanctioned by the government as criminal or insane
unless they're the ones who commit it.

My town is cute like people who still shop at Wal-Mart and claim to be patriotic.
Stop it.

My town is cute in the way we worry about the gays
fuckin’ up our family values and the sanctity of marriage,
yet we still let our children watch television shows like Wife Swap, The Bachelor, Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire, American Idolatry
and Fox News.

My town is so cute that - check this out -
once, six years ago,
there were some brown people (boogity boogity),
they attacked two of our tallest buildings
and killed a shitload of our innocent citizens,
kinda like we did
in Guatemala, Nicaragua, Panama, El Salvador,
Tanzania, Mozambique, Vietnam, Afghanistan,
Hiroshima, Philippines, Kosovo, Bolivia,
Angola, Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Dresden,
Dominican Republic, Cuba, Haiti, Indonesia,
East Timor, Cambodia, Iraq, (what the fuck
are we doing in Israel?)
and my cute town pretends we never saw it [or had it] coming
so in a perpetual attempt to save cute face
we’ve waged a war on terror about as effective as the war on drugs.
My town is cute when we wage these wars in the name of God.

As many as 20% of the polar bears on the Northern Ice Cap are hermaphrodites
due to PCB’s being dumped into the ocean.
You won't hear about that shit on the news because it's too cute,
like a wolf giving birth through its penile canal (True).

My town is cute like a 300lb tumor containing hair and teeth inside of it
grown from the body of a 210 pound agoraphobic woman,
cute like competitive poetry, the history of Scientology, plastic surgery,
and refined sugars, cute
like a man swallowing an 8-ball of cocaine
then jumping from a 5-story building to escape police,
getting up and running away from it all.

Y'all, this
this is a true story:

The first time my town saw the sky
it sucker punched us in the throat
left us breathless
said, "I'm gonna keep you awake some nights
without touching you
you'll make it up, the pain,
you always do."

Now my town only buys drowsy formula sky.
Otherwise it gets too big, the sky,
like when we were three
before we realized:

We have balls.
The sky does not.
Therefore, we have bigger balls than the sky.

do not talk to us about being tea-bagged
by upside down hot air balloons.

Where rational conversation and big pictures are concerned
we have no time for getting wrapped up.
We are not presents for your sky.
We are just right.
Far right.
And cut
like 3-year-olds,
like the book about bunny suicides,
cute like Old Yeller just 'fore he got shot in the rabies
(a good actor, that dog).

My town was born way off the mark.
Sometimes we see it coming, the mark,
So we shoot it with spit wads or
precision-guided phallic symbols.

Every time there is talk of war
people give me reasons why their town
will be bombed first.
It's a souped-up sense of self importance, buck-o.
Everybody knows my town will be bombed first
because once
we planned the construction of a nuclear power plant
right here in the same fields where our military children
now carry out covert orders to keep the word dumb alive.

Christianity has a hard time workin' here,
makes us believe that even when we are alone
someone is watching us and judging us.
Now we're all narcissists.
We have a habit of giving other people's gifts to ourselves.

But at least our children still get their confidence booster shots,
while our fathers perform voice reduction surgery
to keep our pleas for help mime-sized
while our mothers are bending infinity in half
so that our families can continue to talk in circles,
while we all burn our tongues when we drink hot cocoa
for the same reason everybody here wants to hug the ocean
because it's just so much.

My town knows that there is something so big inside of all of us
we have to suck
just to distract you from being directly overwhelmed by our real power,
the kind of power that makes you smile.
Everybody knows that smiling is for little girls, the gays
and certain kinds of fish
who are smiling by accident.

The shortcuts my town has taken
have saved us so little time
gotten us so far ahead of ourselves
we have actually fallen behind.
Would have been better off learning to herd turtles
into bomb shelters, on a moments notice,
giggling at the fact that we will all now die
and it'll have happened so fast
we will have never been anything
but really cute
like our three-year-olds
who use folding chairs
to beat lambs within inches of their lives.

My town is inches tall.
It's why the sky looks down on us,
wants to tell us something
like grow up
or reach up
or look up and watch me winking
I'm trying to talk to you.

The Earth is travelling at 66,641 mph around the sun.
It simultaneously rotates on itself at over 1000 mph.
My town? Yeah,
it's having some trouble sleeping.