BlackHat's Journal: But I’m not bitter no I’m surviving

Fresh un-bitter bile! Just to keep you clickaholics happy. Projects are still consuming much of my time and weather, here, on the pac-west coast of Polaria has been lovely. Moreover the Summer news streams are filled with pets and lawns as ordained by advertisers and retailers looking at the 6-months-to-xmass hump.

Quote:
My friends, after all this beautiful whitewash and humanity and prison-discipline; and such blubbering and whimpering, and soft Litany to divine and also to quite other sorts of Pity, as we have had for a century now,--give me leave to admonish you that that of the Ancient Germans too was a thing inexpressibly necessary to keep in mind. If that is not kept in mind, the universal Litany to Pity is a mere universal nuisance, and torpid blasphemy against the gods.

I do not much respect it, that purblind blubbering and litanying, as it is seen at present; and the litanying over scoundrels I go the length of disrespecting, and in some cases even of detesting. Yes, my friends, scoundrel is scoundrel: that remains forever a fact; and there exists not in the earth whitewash that can make the scoundrel a friend of this Universe; he remains an enemy if you spent your life in whitewashing him.

He won't whitewash; this one won't. The one method clearly is, That, after fair trial, you dissolve partnership with him; send him, in the name of Heaven, whither he is striving all this while and have done with him. And, in a time like this, I would advise you, see likewise that you be speedy about it! For there is immense work, and of a far hopefuler sort, to be done elsewhere.

Alas, alas, to see once the "prince of scoundrels," the Supreme Scoundrel, him whom of all men the gods liked worst, solemnly laid hold of, and hung upon the gallows in sight of the people; what a lesson to all the people! Sermons might be preached; the Son of Thunder and the Mouth of Gold might turn their periods now with some hope; for here, in the most impressive way, is a divine sermon acted.

Didactic as no spoken sermon could be. Didactic, devotional too;--in awed solemnity, a recognition that Eternal Justice rules the world; that at the call of this, human pity shall fall silent, and man be stern as his Master and Mandatory is!--Understand too that except upon a basis of even such rigor, sorrowful, silent, inexorable as that of Destiny and Doom, there is no true pity possible. The pity that proves so possible and plentiful without that basis, is mere ignavia and cowardly effeminacy; maudlin laxity of heart, grounded on blinkard dimness of head--contemptible as a drunkard's tears.

To see our Supreme Scoundrel hung upon the gallows, alas, that is far from us just now! There is a worst man in England, too,--curious to think of,--whom it would be inexpressibly advantageous to lay hold of, and hang, the first of all. But we do not know him with the least certainty, the least approach even to a guess,--such buzzards and dullards and poor children of the Dusk are we, in spite of our Statistics, Unshackled Presses, and Torches of Knowledge;--not eagles soaring sunward, not brothers of the lightnings and the radiances we; a dim horn-eyed, owl-population, intent mainly on the catching of mice!

Alas, the supreme scoundrel, alike with the supreme hero, is very far from being known. Nor have we the smallest apparatus for dealing with either of them, if he were known. Our supreme scoundrel sits, I conjecture, well-cushioned, in high places, at this time; rolls softly through the world, and lives a prosperous gentleman; instead of sinking him in peat-bogs, we mount the brazen image of him on high columns: such is the world's temporary judgment about its supreme scoundrels; a mad world, my masters. To get the supreme scoundrel always accurately the first hanged, this, which presupposes that the supreme hero were always the first promoted, this were precisely the millennium itself, clear evidence that the millennium had come: alas, we must forbear hope of this. Much water will run by before we see this.

And yet to quit all aim towards it; to go blindly floundering along, wrapt up in clouds of horsehair, bombazine, and sheepskin officiality, oblivious that there exists such an aim; this is indeed fatal. In every human law there must either exist such an aim, or else the law is not a human but a diabolic one. Diabolic, I say: no quantity of bombazine, or lawyers' wigs, three-readings, and solemn trumpeting and bow-wowing in high places or in low, can hide from me its frightful infernal tendency;--bound, and sinking at all moments gradually to Gehenna, this "law;" and dragging down much with it! "To decree injustice by a law:" inspired Prophets have long since seen, what every clear soul may still see, that of all Anarchies and Devil-worships there is none like this; that this is the "Throne of Iniquity" set up in the name of the Highest, the human Apotheosis of Anarchy itself.

"Quiet Anarchy," you exultingly say? Yes; quiet Anarchy, which the longer it sits "quiet" will have the frightfuler account to settle at last. For every doit of the account, as I often say, will have to be settled one day, as sure as God lives. Principal, and compound interest rigorously computed; and the interest is at a terrible rate per cent in these cases! Alas, the aspect of certain beatified Anarchies, sitting "quiet;" and of others in a state of infernal explosion for sixty years back: this, the one view our Europe offers at present, makes these days very sad. -- T. Carlyle.

More regular posting as soon as I finish playing with the blue room. Until then.

News:
Mugabe supporters will likely spin this as a sustainable-energy advance. The introduction of ox-drawn ambulances is a sign that President Robert Mugabe is taking Zimbabwe back to the stone ages, the opposition says. Ox cart! Stone Age! Idiot BBC writers know shit about history. Agrarian-Revolution, surely!

More of the US's all-star cast heading for the dressing vans.

Meat Man in India. Washington wants Delhi to commit its troops as part of the transition process which has begun in Iraq under the UN mandate.... and US and UK orders on the ground.

Oil Iraq's interim government is expected to award the first three post-war oil production contracts by the end of August, industry sources say. Irish firm Petrel has confirmed it has put in bids for all three contracts on offer so far, making the final lists. However, Shell told the BBC it had declined to enter the tendering process for at least the first of the three.

Oil Total has restarted its oil production in Nigeria after a six-day stand-off with the unions. The shutdown - caused by fears of intensifying violence amid labour unrest - was unprecedented. The oil giant halted production worth 225,000 barrels a day, equivalent to 10% of Nigeria's daily production. And it never stops. Right, *click-chunk*, tar-boy! [or other EU approved language equivalent phrase: Begrijp, teerjongen? Comprenez, garçon de goudron? Verstehen Sie, Teerjunge?, Capisca, ragazzo del catrame?, Entienda, muchacho del alquitrán?]

Emily! Get out of the way!

The Vicar cleared of all charges of shoving in the pews. And all the back benchers sigh in awe.

Texttoon:
Fumetti : Stock photo of King Silvio of Italy with an overlayed speech bubble that has him singing; "There on my right/ Sits the King with his clowns/ He pays to laugh/ While his queen lives on downs/ And the smile on his brow is the crown/ Morning bird sing, fill my ears/ With the joy of our sorrow unmasked/ Lend me your wings for the sunrays of dawn/ Are here to last/ I take my leave, as I leave I must take..."