- Jim Garrison
An Artifice Posing as an Edifice
By John Q. Parvenu, American Dissident
For twenty-five years now, I have been firmly convinced that, so surely as the night awaits the day, a second Civil War awaits the American nation. For truth be told, the United States has been a republic in name only for three generations, having devolved into a de facto military despotism in the late 1930s. And as history informs us – over and over and over again – once the authoritarian instinct takes root in the minds of men placed in positions of great power, it is only a matter of when – and not if – those predatory urges and impulses that armored and impelled their ambitions, discard all disguise and with it, any residual capacity for restraint, however nominal it might have been.
But it is only now, in the aftermath of 911 – the perpetrator of which could only have been the Pentagon – that the Beast so boldly dares to bare its teeth – to stand revealed for what it is: A brute force drama bringing blunt force trauma.
Prior to the advent of the 1930s, America, for all its flaws, could still claim possession of the infrastructure and the architecture of a republic. The difference between a republic, on the one hand, and a despotism on the other is stark, for it is a distinction of kind; the pair are as dissimilar to the detached observer as, say, a leash and a noose. The bridges that connect cause and effect, though occasionally strained, remain intact. Those who preside over the reins of republic are expected and will be required to lead by consensus; theirs is not the despotic diktat or the unctuous ukase.
It is an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition that the quotidian vicissitudes that populate and animate our daily lives too often preempt our capacity to pinpoint the occurrence and to ponder the implications of exigent political events, the real-time study of which would more fully inform our social perspectives, and thereby safeguard our future well-being.
And therein lies the rub — perhaps the difference between the leash and the noose isn’t so easily perceived, as the separation is solely one of degree; that is to say, it makes itself manifest only incrementally and moves to a slower, more generational, tempo besides.
This sullen and sickening state of affairs that today engulfs us did not install itself overnight, but assumed its place and acquired its authorities only in small steps; its beginnings can be traced to the Spanish-American War of 1898, and it was over the course of the subsequent century, that the leash morphed into the noose.
The Deus ex Machina — Something Wicked This Way Comes
In his 1950s masterpiece, The Power Elite, the late C. Wright Mills waxed eloquently about the emerging vulture-culture of soldier worship in the chapter titled, “The Military Ascendency.”
In 1967, Jim Garrison, also a man of genius, set forth a similarly insightful critique regarding incipient American fascism, a snippet of which is excerpted below:
“What worries me deeply, and I have seen it exemplified in this case [meaning the JFK murder] is that we in America are in great danger of slowly evolving into a proto-fascist state. It will be a different kind of fascist state from the one of the Germans evolved; theirs grew out of depression and promised bread and work, while ours, curiously enough, seems to be emerging from prosperity. But in the final analysis, it’s based on power and on the inability to put human goals and human conscience above the dictates of the state. Its origins can be traced in the tremendous war machine we’ve built since 1945, the “military-industrial complex” that Eisenhower vainly warned us about, which now dominates every aspect of our life. The power of the states and Congress has gradually been abandoned to the Executive Department, because of war conditions; and we’ve seen the creation of an arrogant, swollen bureaucratic complex totally unfettered by the checks and balances of the Constitution.
I’ve learned enough about the machinations of the CIA in the past year to know that this is no longer the dreamworld America I once believed in. The imperatives of the population explosion, which almost inevitably will lessen our belief in the sanctity of the individual human life, combined with the awesome power of the CIA and the defense establishment, seem destined to seal the fate of the America I knew as a child and bring us into a new Orwellian world where the citizen exists for the state and where raw power justifies any and every immoral act. I’ve always had a kind of knee-jerk trust in my Government’s basic integrity, whatever political blunders it may make. But I’ve come to realize that in Washington, deceiving and manipulating the public are viewed by some as the natural prerogatives of office. Huey Long once said, “Fascism will come to America in the name of anti-fascism.” I’m afraid, based on my own experience, that fascism will come to America in the name of national security.”
In the here and now of 2012, the “gloomy” and “speculative” ruminations put to page by Mills and Garrison have proven prescient, no?
The Military’s Manic Repressives – Ooh Rah! – Semper Fi!
In the wake of the Second World War, the Pentagon’s beribboned nihilism has indeed insinuated itself into the very entrails of American life and, has by so doing:
1) Encrypted our history. Virtually all information that might shed light upon the ways and wiles of our Overlords lies interred, pursuant to privy seal, and always in accordance with the requirements of “National Security,” the DeathStar’s trusty euphemism for concealed criminality. And the few kibbles and bits that fall through the cracks are quickly explained away by one or another of its logrolling mouthpieces, all of them well-versed in the low arts of circumlocution, synecdoche, and casuistry. How can we chart our future when we cannot access our past?
2) Emaciated our ethics. “The government,” wrote Justice Louis Brandeis in 1928, “is the potent omnipresent teacher. For good or ill it teaches the whole people by its example. Crime is contagious. If the government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for law; it invites every man to become a law unto himself; it invites anarchy. To declare that the end justifies the means – to declare that the government may commit crimes – would bring terrible retribution.” That it will. And so it must.
3) Commandeered our manufacturing capacity. An enormous amount of manpower has been, and is being, expended by the Pentagon upon covert, even sinister, projects. Beneath our feet, a labyrinth of underground bases and factories – a network of staggering scope and dimensions – has come into being, the assembly of which required decades, and the construction of which proceeds apace. And then there is the “rumored” secret space program. Yes Virginia, the inner rungs of outer space are weaponized and have been since the 1970s, if not before. That, gentle readers, is where Mr. Rumsfield’s “missing” three trillion wound up, and many more trillions before those. The DeathStar’s corruptions are not only incontrovertible, they are incomprehensible.
4) Exsanguinated the civilian institutions of government. The infrastructure and architecture of republic, earlier referenced, persist, only as barren illusions, and exist solely as papier-mache stage props:
The Presidency – A Trophy Trout.
The Senate – A Museum Mastodon.
The Congress – A Rubber-stamp Reichstag.
The Supreme Court – A Nonet of Eunuchs-in-tunics.
And those core illusions demand diligent maintenance. Enter the Fifth Column known as the Fourth Estate, that bluster-cluster of Scarecrows, Blowfish, Lickspittles and Pisswinds come to swing the bullroarers, twirl the pinwheels, sound the calliopes – that virtual Fear Factory always in search of the crowded movie theater; and forever yelling “Fire!” the moment one is found.
5) Conscripted our intellects. What is Man but a matrix of thoughts? How many Brownshirt Baptists might we suppose have pondered the phenomenon of the Mercenary Intellectual – that servant/savant of meurtre en masse? And how many flag-monkey patriots really care to know that eight of every ten physicists outgassed yearly by our universities will draw a bloated paycheck from the Department of Death only mere minutes after chucking their mortarboards? Or, that the bulk of them, having pledged allegiance to the Force Majeure, will incur no emotional levy, endure no crisis of conscience, once having done so; but, au contraire mon frere, will be pleased as punch with themselves, having attained that sublime status reserved exclusively for those High Priests of the Beast!
The DeathStar’s Lumiere Morte – Full Spectrum Lawlessness
The litany of inquisitions imposed here in the Homeland, incidents of which accrue daily, persists and proliferates because of, and in concert with, those impositions – no lesser in their numbers, or in their magnitude – that the DeathStar – engaged in plunder and engorged by pelf – so blithely dispenses about the globe. Thus, the cancer that is American militarism constitutes a galloping malignancy not only beyond our borders, but within our boundaries!
Out of Sight – Out of Mind
Thanks to the Internet, the TSA’s Grab & Grope mooks malingering in our airports are, much to their chagrin, subject to some degree of publicity. But other, more ominous, incursions transpire within the shadowy precincts of espionage, only to be rendered inaccessible by the occlusive ambiance of nacht und nebel that therein prevails. For example, the DeathStar’s Most Exalted Keeper of Secrets, the National Security Agency has, over the duration of decades, engaged in the compilation of derogatory dossiers on both the longstanding luminous and those newly stellate personalities that, taken together, stipple the firmament of America’s political establishment. Imagine the dirt they’ve Hoovered up on BillyJeff, the Hildebeeste, and the Chimp. What could they tell us about the low life and high times of Chicagoland’s Very Very Dirty Barry? Do they know of his bisexual proclivities? Sure they do. Of His crack-rock affinities? You betcha.
More recently materializes the repugnant Department of Homeland Security – our ginned-up Gestapo. Minimal research online reveals DHS to be little more than a prehensile appendage of NSA engineered, ab initio, to function in a subsidiary capacity similar to that of SAIC or the Melpar or Mitre corporations; only their dress code differs. In the boyish esperanto of espionage, such intermediaries are referred to as “cut-outs.” In geek-speak, they’re called proxy servers.
All the World’s the Wog
The DeathStar’s quest for omniscience truly knows no surcease. Its strutting goon-platoons have globalized the franchise, infesting over 120 allegedly independent countries; they’re everywhere you’ve ever been and anywhere you’ll ever go. Does the Pentagon seek not merely the erosion of national sovereignty, but its certifiable extinction? No nation is truly sovereign so long as foreign battalions are billeted within its borders.
And most remarkably, only minor repercussions have thus far ensued – the periodic suicide bomber; the occasional crashed Chinook; an embarrassing disclosure by Wikileaks.
To be immane is to be immune!
For now. But the present, though persistent, never proves everlasting and, as the atrocities accumulate, so too will the boiling anger. And the roiling resentment. Natural allies these. And from their preordained coalescence will emerge an emotional admixture that is volatile indeed – a tinderbox in search of a spark. In these times transuranic, Maximilien Robespierre comes pret a porter…
Dreadtime for Empire
As the endgame of Empire draws nearer, we Americans find ourselves confronted with but two – and only two – possible conclusions.
The first of which, admittedly fraught with hazard, stipulates that we rediscover within ourselves the reservoirs of fortitude required to do the right thing – to hale a drumhead tribunal and remand the whole loutish lot of them to trial – Nuremberg style.
For which, humanity at large would surely convey to us its gratitude and confer upon us its good will; and, by which, we Americans would recapture a sliver of our self-respect. But for that outcome, I harbor only scant optimism.
If only this were 2,000 years ago – if only We were Spartans and They were Romans – at least under those circumstances, there would prevail a rough technological parity between opposing sides. But today – no way. The highly centralized – and supremely specialized – materials, techniques, and facilities germane to the production of drones, tanks, lasers, and Tasers are Theirs. And Theirs alone. We get the CB radios and the FEMA camps; They get the Cray computers and the subterranean spider-holes.
And don’t even think that a government so ruthless, so relentless, and so remorseless as “Ours” will hesitate – even for a nanosecond – to deploy the full panoply of its murderous machinery come the first whiff of insurrection. Control freaks aren’t about sharing. Or caring.
When in the Course of human events…
So the more likely, and far more lethal, finale goes a little something like this: Having grown weary of the DeathStar’s global rampaging on the one hand and, on the other, fearing for their very survival in the face of a citizenry enraged by their alliance with – or acquiescence to – ongoing American atrocities, an ad hoc alliance of nations, compelled by common cause, pools its resources and, reluctantly, decrees: “Enough is enough!” At which point America is placed under economic siege, i.e., the Dollar – its vitality sapped by the serial debasements of the Federal Reserve – is swiftly shorn of its status as the world’s reserve currency.
The ensuing reaction from the DeathStar will be, to paraphrase our Attorney Jackal, fast and furious – redolent of that traditionally attributed to the cornered, rabid rodent of legend – that is to say more rapacious militarism abroad and more denigrations of dignity here in the Homeland.
Much more of both, in fact.
Now, finally, Americans sprout spines, some Americans anyway; domestic discontent rears its Hydra-head, and the Police State begins to fray here and there as pockets of insurrection crop up like morning mushrooms. Alas, here in the Homeland, it was too little; too late. And so it’s off to the Camps we go…
Beyond our shores, things really get dicey as legions amass and armaments accumulate, and the Beast soon finds itself, not merely economically, but hermetically quarantined – in the manner of a rogue bacillus; or a rambunctious isotope. And those foreign forces will then do what must be done. First will come the Invasion, then the Occupation, next the Partitioning, and, finally, the Tribunals. And the means by which DeathStar America so long rained ruin upon innocent millions will then be eternally eviscerated.
Are you mad yet?