The Best Worst Paper

An American writing for the New York Times has visited Australia and written a thing about Australia and it is as bad as can be. When we read the New York Times we of course expect opinion that causes lightheaded fucking wonderment. The only in to reading a New York Times piece or having any idea what is in it, or why, or enjoying it in any way is if you too write for the New York Times. Never has a paper had such a consistent run of opinion that is talking to itself in a language only it understands, to an end that can be guessed at but probably must never be gazed upon directly.

"Who is this frigging turkey?" You say out loud with your mouth to both ask the question and re-connect with your body. "What the fuck did I just read?" You continue, speaking to feel the sound of being a soul with maybe a purpose or something. You have read a New York Times absolute steaming pile of words and yet again, as is always the case when you forget to remember that these people are all arseholes, all meaning seems to have drained from all life.

The New York Times exists to destroy hope in anyone who may actually bloody need it to survive. The New York Times is adored by those for whom hope is entirely unnecessary, those of a class with no guiding thirst other than a need to ruin the day of those who do all the little, unimportant jobs you and I do to survive. It is what the evil fucks who feed off the rest of us enjoy as we massage their feet by a pool they are definitely going to piss in.

The New York Times is the newspaper at the end of Hell, the perfect paper, a paper that cuts right through the bullshit to nakedly abase itself before real bloodstained power. It tells the story we already know: the drawbridge is up and out here in the wastelands the cavalry is not coming, unless it's coming to mow us down.

Let us not speak of the piece in question, for it is simply a glimpse into the world view of the lower order demons who sell us war, total surveillance and the ensuing crushing despair that somehow seems to sustain a world free of ideas or a clear eyed view of how fucking doomed we really are- if we don't snap out of it and engage in total and global, grassroots, peoples', real, revolution.

I said good day to you sir!        




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