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Thursday, 8. January 2004
mld, January 8, 2004 at 7:31:00 AM CET

I'm Talkin' Black Hole Stoopid

After the idiots at MoveOn posted on their website commercials equating President Bush to Hitler (later feebling denying that they realized what the content of the ads were - gee, wonder if I could try that defense if someone had posted some kiddie porn on this site) I thought I'd never find greater idiocy short of diving into the abyss of the comments section of Indymedia, the Democratic Underground, or the Free Republic.

(No, I'm linking none of those aforementioned sites - even a man like me has to have some sorts of standards. You can google 'em easy enough iffn you wanna go dog-paddle in the shallow end of the net's gene pool)

Boy, was I wrong.

Every once in a while, you can run into a bit of clueless, idiotic, stupefyingly disjointed vitriol so collosally, miraculously, unhinged, that it transcends the genre, and is somehow transubstantiated from the ridiculous to the sublime. A work of ignorant art.

Through either an inborn ability, or a highly-honed effort, be he idiot savant, or classically educated in the art of being a moron type moron, this guy is the Albert Einstein, the Stephen Hawking, the Michelangelo, the acme, the alpha and omega, the ne plus ultra, the pinnacle, the... I could go on, but I can't really think of a term that adequately describes the abyssal depths of this guy's ignorance.

I'm dumbfounded that someone so stupid can actually read and write, much less stumble over a computer and find his way onto the internet.

This is beyond Three Stooges Stoopid, beyond give Arafat a Nobel Peace Prize Stoopid, beyond Above and Beyond the Call of Ignorance Stoopid.

This is Neutronium Stoopid, a Black Hole Stoopid so greedy and dense that it can swallow any fragment of Intelligence and Reason thrown its direction with nary a burp, and toss it into another dimension never to again be seen, lost after the event horizon of Attempted Enlightenment.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

(drum roll)

Ogram N'otsgnik.

Read him and weep that we must include him in the roll call of the members of our species.

We must free our minds to use the brains and Michael Moore provides the information and conceptual relevance to frame the context of the ongoing debate about America's hegemonic lust for flag-planting and the cannabilistic murder and consumption of its own poor people and children. ("Yes," says George W. "let the NRA pass me some dark meat from the ghetto to go with my blood pudding.")

Even now, as Uncle Sam's jackboot grinds free speech to a bloody pulp in his own homeland and democracy withers under direct orders from Washington in Australia, the grasping octopus of American imperialist adventurism is no closer to singing its swan song.

On Mars the Stars and Stripes flies -- the Red Planet, how appropriate, red with the blood of workers poisoned by the toxic byproducts of the imperialist war machines march on the high frontier of space in its phallic symbols of globalised corporate power. Did you know that every rocket that takes off from Cape Canavaral kills 73 seabirds (on average) and has led to nervous conditions amongst neighbouring manatees.

Michael Moore sees and speaks these truths in a simple, down-to-earth way that people who have been denied the benefits of tertiary education (unlike me and most Age readers) can understand.

His truths are such a challenge to the patriarchal power structure and its Zionist puppetmasters that it requires definite bravery to articulate them. They shot Martin Luther King and John Lennon in America. How long can it be before this large precious object is martyred by the same interests that gave us the Big Mac, George W. Bush, and showers instead of relaxing baths.

I dunno what else to say, but it does make Michael Moore's popularity a bit more explicable, I suppose.


 

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