An Irregular Column #301
by Mykel Board
"No solutions are proposed. On the other hand, would it be reasonable to berate someone who tells you there's a fire in the building because they don't lead you to the exits?" --Howard Andrew
“I see your point. But I still think you're full of shit.” --The Improper Newspaper
“Stop! Stop! It's killing me! It hurts.”
“You can take a little more. Just a little,” I say.
“No! You're killing me! I'm going to explode!”
“Just a bit... damn. The bag is empty! Fuck,”
I remove the tube from her tight brown hole.
“Hold it!” I say.
But holding is not to be done. An explosion. Brown and thick as Guinness. A massive squirt. Chunky. Filled with turds the size of golfballs. Of peas. Of baseballs. Brown snakes. Garter snakes. Pythons. Little brown worms with touches of gray fluff on the sides, wiggling in the soup, like something alive. Soft and mushy, over everything. Covering the back of her legs. A smell. Her smell. The fecal fragrance only hinted in a fart. Expressed full volume in this offal avalanche.
The brownness drips over my naked body. Paints my thighs. Out it pours. Splashing on my belly, my chest, into my mouth, up my nose. Furiously, I pump myself.
“Spray!” I gasp. “Spray some more.”
“I can't,” she says. “It's all gone. I'm empty. That's all there is.”
Damn! I knew it. Enema bags are for wimps. Wussies who say, “Of course I could have taken more. It's just the bag was empty. The water ran out.”
If you had any balls, you'd go to the source. Plug that hose right into the faucet. One end in the pipe. One end embedded deep in that crinkled chocolate crater. Turn on the tap. Let 'er rip. Don't turn it off until YOU can't take any more. Until YOU give up. Feel the pain. From the pain to the pleasure back to the pain again. To the bursting point. Just before your guts split open to spew onto the bathroom floor. YOU decide. Don't blame an empty enema bag. Blame yourself. YOU can't take it. Not “the bag is empty.”
My attitude toward enemas is American. In America, I am in control... or should be. I make your own decisions, or should make them. I am captain of my own shit. Sink or swim in it. I'm an individual... the basis of power. More important than the group. THEY do not control me. I control me.
My attitude toward the rest of life is NOT American. In fact, it's that very illusion of each of us as individuals, controlling our own destiny that I want to rail against in this column.
It's 10:30 A.M. My first class is finished. I have 15 minutes to take a piss and get ready for the next class. In the bathroom, a new sign decorates the wall. A picture of a faucet. A single drip hangs off the end. Like that last drop that hangs off another end and goes down your pants after you zip up.
The sign says, “TURN OFF THE FAUCET. SAVE WATER. A DRIPPING FAUCET CAN COST OVER A HUNDRED GALLONS A DAY.”
Gee, a hundred gallons.
A single cornfield uses 40 MILLION gallons a year to produce its crop. That's more than 200,000 gallons a day during the 6 months from planting to harvest. Oh, but your 100 gallons a day. That'll do a lot!
200,000 gallons a day to turn food into fuel so obese mid-westerners can drive to the mall. 200,000 gallons a day, so electric-powered machines can change genetically-engineered corn to gas delivered by oil burning diesel trucks. 200,000 gallons a day to grow crops never eaten by hungry people, but stuffed into the hungry cars of the rich.
What can you do?
Buy Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. Don't eat meat. Bike instead of using a car. Recycle your newspapers. Wash out that condom and use it again. Every little bit helps.
NO IT DOESN'T!
The world isn't going to change if you shut off the faucet, recycle your Sunday New York Times, bike to work, or stand on the street corner holding an anti-war sign printed by union labor on recycled paper. Your effort is like a grape-sized turd in an avalanche of enema-induced crap. It don't mean shit.
New York's billionaire mayor, Mike Bloomberg, tells us he unplugs his Blackberry charger every morning. It uses electricity even when it's plugged in, he says. Save a kilowatt here... a kilowatt there. It adds up.
NO IT DOESN'T!
Bloomberg Radio, broadcasting across America uses more electricity in 30 seconds than a plugged-in Blackberry charger uses in 30 years. Your Blackberry charger doesn't mean shit.
Can one person make a difference? Sure. Ask Lee Harvey Oswald, Mark David Chapman, John Hinkley or John Wilkes Booth.
I'm not advocating such action. See Mr. CIA-Man, FBI man? Homeland-security? I'm NOT advocating. I'm just pointing out. Okay? I'd never advocate such actions. Oh no, not me. It's illegal to do that. Terrorism. I don't do illegal or terrorist. I'm just a nice guy who enjoys a brown shower every once-in-awhile. Okay?
Who knows? Maybe brown showers are illegal. The governor of New York quit because of simple sex. Not even a brown shower. He just paid a shitload of cash to a pretty girl. If it were free... no problem. But to pay for it. Well, you gotta quit for that.
Of course, I enjoyed seeing him squirm. This was the same guy who fought for anti-John legislation. For tougher penalties for people who pay for prostitutes. Serves him right. BUT, morally, it's wrong. He got screwed for screwing. A victimless crime... except that the law makes victims.
Okay, back to the topic. One person making a difference:
It's the if everybody thinking that gets to me. If everybody turned off their faucet. If everybody stopped eating meat. If everybody was nice to colored people. Jeezus fuckin' Christ.
Everybody is not a nice person. Everybody does not read this column. This zine. This blog. Everybody does not subscribe to THE NATION or MRR. Everybody does not exist. People are individuals. They have no power.
Governments and corporations are NOT individuals. THEY do NOT act independently. THEY act for their own benefit. THEY have the power.
YOU are not responsible for the state of the world, the country, the environment. THEY are. You have no say in the matter. You have no power. Or rather, you do have power, but to use it is illegal and will have huge consequences. It'd probably cost you your life. At least, it'd cost you your freedom.
So don't try to assuage your conscience by donating that coat to Warm The Homeless Inc. Don't think your vote or your knocking on doors or your standing on the street with a clipboard will do anything more than annoy people. Your not flushing after every piss will do nothing more than stink up your bathroom.
So Mykel, what do we do? It is WE who are reading your column. It's not corporations that hang on every pubic hair caught in the effluvia of Mykel Board. It is individuals. World governments do not subscribe to MRR. It's people. We're the ones who have to act. We are all we have.
Answer: The first step in Individuals Anonymous is to admit that you're helpless. You can't do a thing. You have NO power. If you had it, you'd switch sides. After that, I DON'T KNOW.
The rain of shit that pours from the anus of the corporatocracy is browner, with greater chunks than anything you can clean up. And they don't stop when the bag runs dry.
-->Hubba hubba dept: You know how sometimes you see a girl who's so overwhelmingly captivating that you feel like running out and buying a dildo so she can fuck you on the spot?
Kissy Kamikaze is a band of such girls. They are so sexy. And so powerfully punkrock that you can't help but want 'em up your ass. Go see 'em next time they're in town. Take one up the tube for me.
-->Bully for you dept: Kyle N sent me a scary article from USA Today. It reports that schools are pushing for internet BULLY laws. That is, law punishing people who "harass" others over the internet. Right now, those laws are aimed at kids... but they involve the cops. Who knows where it could lead?
Seems inevitable, though. I mean, China has all those censorship laws. Yahoo! and Google help them by sending copies of citizen search records. Watch what you put in that search window... it may come back to haunt you!
-->Toying with reality dept: Also from Kyle is a report of a new Japanese toy: Gloomy Bear. The cute little bear has massive claws. In its cartoon ads, you can see it attack and bloody little kids. Claw them to pieces. A dose of reality for the tots who think life is gonna be a bowl of Tickle Me Elmos.
-->The real power of gas (companies) dept: You might know the Prius car. It's a "hybrid" that runs on electricity and gas. You can push a button and switch it to "electric only"... if you live in Japan or Europe. That button is not included on models made for the North American market. I wonder why. Yeah right I do.
-->What's this thing about feet? dept: The February 2008 issue of CHURCH AND STATE magazine talks about two incidents that go weirdly together.
The first is in South Carolina. There, the First Baptist Church of North Augusta provides shoes for the local children. Not so bad, right? Well, before giving the children shoes (on public school property), church members "wash the children's feet like Jesus did his disciples."
Says the Rev. Mark Owens, "We just feel like God's called us to reach as many children as we can with the Gospel of Christ and a pair of shoes."
I bet there's a line of priests from here to next week volunteering for that job.
But wait! There's more:
Officials at the University of Michigan at Dearborn plan to install special foot-washing stations for Muslim students. University officials said they started the program because some Muslim students say their religious beliefs "require them to wash their feet numerous times during the day." The university says it was moved to create the stations because of student injuries when trying to wash their feet in normal restroom sinks.
-->What color is green? dept: In their rush to green up their living rooms, Americans are running out and buying expensive curlicue fluorescent lightbulbs. These wonderful inventions give half the light for 10 times the money of a normal lightbulb. Yeah! And now, the greater catch.
Those florescent bulbs have mercury in them! Yep, like nuclear energy, they're real ecological... until they're used up. Then the mercury goes into a landfill where it leaches into the soil and enters your food-- or maybe the corn in your engine.
-->Another kind of prisoner dept: This girl's fiancè is in the clink. Someone with a psychiatrist license forced her into a “rehab” center. He didn't like her social behavior. They can do that, you know? THEY have power.
Anyway she's lonely, and mixed up and needs help. So if you can write to her, it would be much appreciated: Angela Myers, PO Box 1358, Spokane WA 99210. Tell 'em Kyle sent ya. Yeah, THAT Kyle.
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