Imagine That

The following is a complete editorialization of recent events in Maine of which has been gleaned from multiple media outlets.
With some relevant extras, thrown in for good measure.


Imagine that….

Where the government ownership

Of malleable military minds

Trains wanton murderers

To kill “targets” and “subjects”

That it wants “eradicated”

Such as sovereign citizens

Of “foreign” countries that live

Standing over cheap resources

Which transnational corporations

Want unfettered easy access to


“Everyone who joined the military, joined the military cause they kinda want to go kill other people. Right? And that’s good. That’s your instinct. Your instinct is your true God, follow it.

If you just want to fucking kill someone, there’s a place for it. Go to the military. As long as people who kinda want to go kill other people are going to kill other people who kinda wanna go to kill other people, you’re killing all the right people, and opening up all the best parking spaces.

– Doug Stanhope



Killing in the name

Not of democracy

Though that is the guise

But rather gross gross profits

It sends “public payed” mercenaries

“Our tax dollars at work…./ murder”

To “neutralize” aka kill

“Enemy” and “non enemy combatants”

Also known as civilians / “humans”



Which, being led by fear

Most of the public is okay with

By manufactured consent

That, that “bogeyman” is real

And must be “eliminated”




But when that individual

Floating around Maine

Let’s say, allegedly Robert Card

With no orders to follow

To kill as instructed

By his employer…..us

Starts to follow orders

From the bees in his beard

“Now?” he has to be stopped

Hmmm, but he was so well trained as a



“Weekend Warrior”

“The rebel of yesterday, tomorrow’s fool
Who are you kidding being that cool?
Trying to break away from running with the pack
But they ain’t listening so you’ve gotta go back

You’re a weekend warrior
When you’re one of the crowd
But it’s over
Just look at you now
Look at you now
Just look at you now
Just look at you now

You’re not so brave the way you behave
It makes you sick, gotta get out quick
It’s all bravado when you’re out with your mates
It’s like a different person goes through those gates

And the game begins
The adrenalin’s high
Feel the tension
Maybe someone will die
Someone will die
Someone will die
Maybe someone will die

A weekend warrior lately
A weekend warrior sometimes
A weekend warrior, maybe you ain’t that way anymore
A weekend warrior lately
A weekend warrior sometimes
A weekend warrior, maybe you ain’t that way anymore

You’ve gotta get out, gotta get away
But you’re in with a clique it’s not easy to stray
You’ve gotta admit you’re just living a lie
It didn’t take long to work out why

It’s hard to say why you got involved
Just wanting to be part
Just wanting to belong
To belong
To belong
To belong, yeah

A weekend warrior lately
A weekend warrior sometimes
A weekend warrior, baby, you ain’t that way anymore
A weekend warrior lately
A weekend warrior sometimes
A weekend warrior, maybe you ain’t that way anymore

Some of the things that you’ve done you feel so ashamed
After all it’s only a game, isn’t it?
And after all the adrenalin’s gone
What you gonna do on Monday?
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do?
On Monday

A weekend warrior lately
A weekend warrior sometimes
A weekend warrior maybe you were never like that at all”

– Iron Maiden


Imagine that

We trained him to do

What we now

Do not want him to do

We want our cake and

Want to eat it to




Not to worry, all the NRA nincompoops

The democratic do-nothings

And conservatives cowards

Will gleefully repeat

That the weapons used

Were purchased “legally”

As a justified distraction

To their lazy greedy inaction



Whew, legally purchased……aaahhhhhhhh

That adds such a layer of comfort

To the families burying their loved ones

Of the disfigured bloodied lifeless corpses




But the healing can begin….

Because, now they can add the word

“Strong” to the town of Lewiston

Like Columbine, Sandy Hook, Uvalde, Vegas, Parkland

Oh Hell, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Dallas, Waco

San Francisco, Birmingham, Philadelphia, Baltimore

Fort Worth, Dallas, Atlanta, Louisville, Nashville, etc

Strong, Strong, Strong, Strong, Strong, Strong, Strong

If every place is “Strong” it loses its meaning

Especially since all are too weak to demand that

Anything be done about the dichotomy of death

That it is perfectly legal for soldiers and “law” enforcement

To murder and kill armed and unarmed bipedal earthling artists

But “illegal” and immoral when they do it of their own volition



Was it not Moses who transcribed “Thou shalt not kill” after he killed an Egyptian, or was it before. Just asking.



“Ever wonder why we’re fucked up as a species?”


– Bill Hicks




“You have a natural tendency
To squeeze off a shot
You’re good fun at parties
You wear the right masks

You’re old but you still
Like a laugh in the locker room
You can’t abide change
You’re at home on the range

You opened your suitcase
Behind the old workings
To show off the magnum
You deafened the canyon

A comfort a friend
Only upstaged in the end
By the Uzi machine gun
Does the recoil remind you

Remind you of sex
Old man what the hell you gonna kill next
Old timer who you gonna kill next”

“The Bravery Of Being Out Of Range”

– Roger Waters


It is just a little odd, that in a “supposedly” Christian nation, one would think they would honor daily the Prince of Peace, by being peaceful……..

Instead, it honors through rhetoric and daily deals veteran discounts. Celebrating with a whopping 10% off to anybody who has been part of an organization trained collectively to murder people. Or special non-handicapped parking, beer sales, appliance specials, furniture discounts, etc..

Society would be a lot freer if everyone was not looking over their shoulder to see if they are next in line in the cross hairs.

At least this most recent mass murder had that Charles Whitman inspired Harry Chapin song “Sniper” delay of death anticipation to it. Wonder if some one will cover that ten minute song with updated lyrics. I would, but mass shootings occur so often, the parodies would be a blur of death and circumstances.


“Sniper”


“It is an early Monday morning.
The sun is becoming bright on the land.
No one is watching as he comes a walking.
Two bulky suitcases hang from his hands.

He heads towards the tower that stands in the campus.
He goes through the door, he starts up the stairs.
The sound of his footsteps, the sound of his breathing,
The sound of the silence when no one was there.

I didn’t really know him.
He was kind of strange.
Always sort of sat there.
He never seemed to change.

He reached the catwalk. He put done his burden.
The four sided clock began to chime.
Seven AM, the day is beginning.
So much to do and so little time.
He looks at the city where no one had known him.
He looks at the sky where no one looks down.
He looks at his life and what it has shown him.
He looks for his shadow it cannot be found.

He was such a moody child, very hard to touch.
Even as a baby he never smiled too much. No no.No no.

You bug me, she said.
Your ugly, she said.
Please hug me, I said.
But she just sat there
With the same flat stare
That she saves for me alone
When I’m home.
When I’m home.
Take me home.

He laid out the rifles, he loaded the shotgun,
He stacked up the cartridges along the wall.
He knew he would need them for his conversation.
If it went as it he planned, then he might use them all.

He said Listen you people I’ve got a question
You won’t pay attention but I’ll ask anyhow.
I found a way that will get me an answer.
Been waiting to ask you ’till now.
Right now !

Am I?
I am a lover whose never been kissed.
Am I?
I am a fighter whose not made a fist.
Am I?
If I’m alive then there’s so much I’ve missed.
How do I know I exist?
Are you listening to me?
Are you listening to me?
Am I?

The first words he spoke took the town by surprise.
One got Mrs. Gibbons above her right eye.
It blew her through the window wedged her against the door.
Reality poured from her face, staining the floor.

He was kind of creepy,
Sort of a dunce.
I met him at the corner bar.
I only dated the poor boy once,
That’s all. Just once, that was all.

Bill Whedon was questioned as stepped from his car.
Tom Scott ran across the street but he never got that far.
The police were there in minutes, they set up baricades.
He spoke right on over them in a half-mile circle.
In a dumb struck city his pointed questions were sprayed.

He knocked over Danny Tyson as he ran towards the noise.
Just about then the answers started comming. Sweet, sweet joy.
Thudding in the clock face, whining off the walls,
Reaching up to where he sat there, answering calls.

Thirty-seven people got his message so far.
Yes, he was reaching them right were they are.

They set up an assault team. They asked for volunteers.
They had to go and get him, that much was clear.
And the word spread about him on the radios and TV’s.
In appropriately sober tone they asked “Who can it be?”

He was a very dull boy, very taciturn.
Not much of a joiner, he did not want to learn.
No no.No no.

They’re coming to get me, they don’t want to let me
Stay in the bright light too long.
It’s getting on noon now, it’s goin to be soon now.
But oh, what a wonderful sound!

Mama, won’t you nurse me?
Rain me down the sweet milk of your kindness.
Mama, it’s getting worse for me.
Won’t you please make me warm and mindless?

Mama, yes you have cursed me.
I never will forgive you for your blindness.
I hate you!

The wires are all humming for me.
And I can hear them coming for me.
Soon they’ll be here, but there’s nothing to fear.
Not any more though they’ve blasted the door.

As the copter dropped the gas he shouted “Who cares?” .
They could hear him laughing as they started up the stairs.
As they stormed out on the catwalk, blinking at the sun,
With their final fusillade his answer had come.

Am I?
There is no way that you can hide me.
Am ?
Though you have put your fire inside me.
Am I ?
You’ve given me my answer can’t you see?
I was!
I am!
And now I will be
I will be”

– Harry Chapin



Imagine that…..



“I write to expunge the darkness so
That someday light may shine through”


– Angelo Devlin