The Peoples Cube and their clear minded, brilliant and damn funny analysis of leftard Utopian delusions.

Dear sports, I may not be able to post as I have been. Yep, things are not a million laughs for the old Colonel. Or a million dollars. I've always said that at a minimum, I could get by with nothing but ten million greenback friends. Hey, let's put on a show and save the theatre! How ironic. I'm determined to do just that. A one man and friends thang before I burn down. I'll most likely be the only conservative, rational and libertarian non-PC comedian etc, in Australia. Go figure.

It's all this global "financial crisis" and so on. [Link to machosauce at PJT.] A contrived crisis that can be defined as the ever expanding monkey on the back of capitalism. The only "flaw" in capitalism is that people won't leave it alone.

Funny how whenever the left want ca$h for their Utopian nightmare dreams that never arrive except as disasters, they always, ALWAYS take it from proven capitalist innovation and achievement. A riot. Hey, sounds like me when I'm asking the old wifey for er, assistance.

Andrew Klavan on Night Of The Living Government.

That vast parasitical army of King Kong's is forever bigger government and their leftard radical and elitist pals, as they rip-off, screw and cheat the productive. Personally, I count the micro seconds until the next denial paradigm of the left is born or is that aborted? You know, the massive mental and logical contortion to rationalise the inevitable total collapse of Obamaism. But they can deny and lie about anything. Blame shifting, like Muslims, is THEIR THING, in fact their only er, "action." [Link to the great drsanity blogspot com.]

"Shift that blame, tax that bale!"

Left ideology is not really about proven reality per se, as it is about projecting one's moral vanity. And that's all. So whatever works and to Hell with the consequences.

The following is one of my favourites, and a most perfect of palate cleansers, as they say. It's by 'redsquare' at the magnificent, consistently fun and empirically brilliant peoplescube com. All about the contradictions of the left. Leftardism consists of nothing else but contradictions, which blamed entirely on the observer, who is then shot for not being able to see "the beautiful collective dream." It says so much of what we all want to say. Dig.


The peoplescube on Obamas Soviet contradictions.


"Contradictions of Socialism (I saw the future & ran away)

By Red Square 06 March 2009.

There was a time in recent American history when certain Soviet jokes didn't work in translation - not so much because of the language differences, but because of the lack of common sociopolitical context. But that is changing. As President Obama is preparing us for a great leap towards collectivism, I find myself recollecting forgotten political jokes I shared with comrades while living in the old country under Brezhnev, Andropov, and Gorbachev. (I was too young to remember the Khrushchev times, but I remember the Khrushchev jokes.) I also noticed that the further America "advances" back to the Soviet model, the more translatable the old Soviet jokes become.


Not all Soviet advancements have metastasized here yet, but we have four more glorious years to make it happen. One of my favorite political jokes is this:

The six dialectical contradictions of socialism in the USSR:

• There is full employment - yet no one is working.

• No one is working - yet the factory quotas are fulfilled.

• The factory quotas are fulfilled - yet the stores have nothing to sell.

• The stores have nothing to sell - yet people got all the stuff at home.

• People got all the stuff at home - yet everyone is complaining.

• Everyone is complaining - yet the voting is always unanimous.


It reads like a poem - only instead of the rhythm of syllables and rhyming sounds, it's the rhythm of logic and rhyming meanings. If I could replicate it, I might start a whole new genre of "contradictory six-liners." It would be extremely difficult to keep it real and funny at the same time, but I'll try anyway.

Dialectical contradictions are one of the pillars in Marxist philosophy, which states that contradictions eventually lead to a unity of opposites as the result of a struggle. This gave a convenient "scientific" excuse for the existence of contradictions in a socialist society, where opposites were nice and agreeable - unlike the wild and crazy opposites of capitalism that could never be reconciled.

Hence the joke.

Then I moved to America, where wild and crazy opposites of capitalism were supposedly at their worst. Until recently, however, the only contradictions that struck me as irreconcilable were these:

Economic justice:

• America is capitalist and greedy - yet half of the population is subsidized.

• Half of the population is subsidized - yet they think they are victims.

• They think they are victims - yet their representatives run the government.

• Their representatives run the government - yet the poor keep getting poorer.

• The poor keep getting poorer - yet they have things that people in other countries only dream about.

• They have things that people in other countries only dream about, yet they want America to be more like those other countries.

Hollywood cliches:

• Without capitalism there'd be no Hollywood - yet filmmakers hate capitalism.

• Filmmakers hate capitalism - yet they sue for unauthorized copying of their movies.

• They sue for unauthorized copying - yet on screen they teach us to share.

• On screen they teach us to share - yet they keep their millions to themselves.

• They keep their millions to themselves - yet they revel in stories of American misery and depravity.

• They revel in stories of American misery and depravity - yet they blame the resulting anti-American sentiment on conservatism.

• They blame the anti-American sentiment on conservatism - yet conservatism ensures the continuation of a system that makes Hollywood possible.


I never thought I would see socialist contradictions in America, let alone write about them. But somehow all attempts to organize life according to "progressive" principles always result in such contradictions.

And in the areas where "progressives" have assumed positions of leadership - education, news media, or the entertainment industry - contradictions become "historically inevitable."

If one were accidentally to open his eyes and compare the "progressive" narrative with facts on the ground, one might start asking questions. Why, for instance, if the war on terror breeds more terrorists, haven't there been attacks on the U.S. soil since 2001? Why, if George W. Bush had removed our freedom of speech, was nobody ever arrested for saying anything? And if Obama has returned us our freedoms, why was a man harassed by police in Oklahoma for having an anti-Obama sign in his car?

Why would anyone who supports free speech want to silence talk radio? And why is silencing the opposition called the "Fairness Doctrine"? [Link to [Left] Liberal Fascism by Jonah Goldberg.]

After the number of "caring," bleeding-heart politicians in Washington reached a critical mass, it was only a matter of time before the government started ordering banks to help the poor by giving them risky home loans through community organizers.

Which resulted in a bigger demand, which resulted in rising prices, which resulted in slimmer chances of repaying the loans, which resulted in more pressure on the banks, which resulted in repackaging of bad loans, which resulted in a collapse of the banks, which resulted in a recession, which resulted in many borrowers losing their jobs, which resulted in no further mortgage payments, which resulted in a financial disaster, which resulted in a worldwide crisis, with billions of poor people overseas - who had never seen a community organizer, nor applied for a bad loan - becoming even poorer than they had been before the "progressives" in the U.S. government decided to help the poor.


As if that were not enough, the same bleeding hearts are now trying to fix this by nationalizing the banks so that they can keep issuing risky loans through community organizers. In other words, to prevent the toast from landing buttered side down, they're planning to butter the toast on both sides and hope that it will hover in mid-air. Which also seems like a sensible alternative energy initiative.

If that doesn't fix the problem, there's always the last resort of a liberal: blame capitalism. It's always a win-win. Today government regulators may be blaming capitalism for the crisis caused by their dilettantish tampering with the economy, but who do you think they will credit after market forces resuscitate the economy?
Years ago, living in America made me feel as though I had traveled in a time machine from the past. But after the recent "revolutionary" changes have turned reality on its head - which is what "revolution" literally means - I'm getting an uneasy feeling I had come from your future.

As your comrade from the future, I also feel a social obligation to help my less advanced comrades in the American community, and prepare them for the transition to the glorious world of underground literature, half-whispered jokes, and the useful habit of looking over your shoulder. Don't become a nation of cowards - but watch who might be listening.

Let's start with these few.

People's power:

• Liberals believe they're advancing people's power - yet they don't believe people can do anything right without their guidance.

• People can't do anything right - yet the government bureaucracy can do everything.

• The government bureaucracy can do everything - yet liberals don't like it when the government takes control of their lives.

• Liberals don't like it when the government takes control of their lives - yet they vote for programs that increase people's dependency on the government.

• They vote for programs that increase people's dependency on the government - yet they believe they're advancing people's power.


Bush and the media:

• The media said Bush was dumb - yet he won over two intelligent Democrats.

• He won over two intelligent Democrats - yet the media said his ratings were hopeless.

• The media said his ratings were hopeless - yet the 2004 electoral map was red.

• The 2004 electoral map was red - yet the media said his policies failed.

• The media said his policies failed - yet the economy grew and the war was won.

• The economy grew and the war was won - yet the media said we needed "change."

Public education:

• Liberals have been in charge of education for 50 years - yet education is out of control.

• Education is out of control - yet liberal teaching methods prevail.

• Liberal teaching methods prevail - yet public schools are failing.

• Public schools are failing - yet their funding keeps growing.

• Their funding keeps growing - yet public schools are always underfunded.

• Public schools are always underfunded - yet private schools yield better results for less.

• Private schools yield better results for less - yet public education is the only way out of the crisis.

Foreign radicals:

• Foreign radicals hate America - yet they're all wearing American blue jeans.

• They're all wearing American blue jeans - yet they disdain American culture.

• They disdain American culture - yet they play American music, movies, and video games.

• They play American music, movies, and video games - yet they call Americans uncivilized.

• They call Americans uncivilized - yet they expect Americans to defend their civilization.

• They expect Americans to defend their civilization - yet they think American capitalism is outdated.

• They think American capitalism is outdated - yet most of their countries require American handouts.

(* Some US politicians have similar opinions about their redneck constituents - yet they won't shut up about how proud they are to have their mandate.)

Liberals and taxes:

• Liberals want to help the poor - yet they won't give money to charities.

• They won't give money to charities - yet they'd like the government to become a gigantic charity.

• They'd like the government to become a gigantic charity - yet the money has to be taken from people by force.

• The money has to be taken from people by force - yet they call it welfare.

• They call it welfare - yet higher taxes make everyone poorer.

• Higher taxes make everyone poorer - yet liberals find ways not to pay taxes.

• Liberals find ways not to pay taxes - yet they get to be chosen to run the government.

Liberals and the CIA:

• The CIA is a reactionary institution - yet its agents always leak information that helps liberals politically.

• CIA agents always leak information that helps liberals politically - yet liberals say the CIA is clueless.

• Liberals say the CIA is clueless - yet in their movies the CIA is running the world.

• In their movies the CIA is running the world - yet they tell us that better intelligence could have prevented the war.

• Better intelligence could have prevented the war - yet "enhanced interrogations" of captured terrorists must not be allowed.

Love and marriage: [Link to the very swingin', hip and conservative and gay, gaypatriot blog.]

• Sex differences are the result of social conditioning - yet homosexuality is biological.

• Homosexuality is biological - yet everybody is encouraged to experiment with it.

• Everybody is encouraged to experiment with it - yet venereal diseases are treated at the taxpayers' expense.

• Venereal diseases are treated at the taxpayers' expense - yet taxpayers have no right to impose standards since there are no moral absolutes.

• There are no moral absolutes - yet gay marriage is an absolute must.

• Gay marriage is an absolute must - yet family is an antiquated tool of bourgeois oppression." The peoplescube com.

Night Swallows West.

"As Peeps vehicle climbed onto the elevated roadway, the sun reflected in shooting flashes off the lines of the skyscrapers on either side. On nights that had no moonlight, even these cold, great and empty forms disappeared into the vast ink".



Dear sports, this is my feeble and rather amateur attempt at the first part of a short story that I'll er, publish entirely online. You know where to send the briefcase of cash! I first posted this on Sunday 23 September 2007. I really liked Richard Matheson's freaky and eerie classic, I Am Legend. Though I thought the vampire angle was a bit naff, while disturbing and beautifully well done. I just can't believe in 'em at all.

In fact, I often find horror fantasy neither scary nor fantastic. More a neat allegory, or a preposterous and poor second to the harsh and disturbing facts of er, our current reality. No, really. And I found the I Am Legend film a disappointing, utterly unconvincing and shallow CGI mistaken bore. But what do I know?

Now I thought that the idea of being the poor last bastard on earth and why, would be frightening enough and without the vamps. But what do I know? I hope you get a laugh out of it.





Chapter 1. A Figure On The Landscape.

A light breeze snaked past the open doors of a balcony and through the space between two heavy curtains, pushing them slightly inwards. There was almost no sound from outside and nothing passed within as the cool air drifted softly over the body of Sam Peeps who lay asleep in the half-light of the room. Suddenly the sound of his own voice brought him to a kind of semi-consciousness with the partially shouted words unfolding rapidly in the shadows. He sat up with a wired jolt and his arms pushed out straight from his sides pressing hard into the bed.

"There is no such thing as the Devil", he said.

"Hey, day or night?" he wondered vaguely for a moment before falling back into torpor. Several phrases fell from his half opened mouth as a catechism. "All failure is a lack of concentration. God never interferes in our lives. Energy can only go in one direction at a time" he said in a continuous mumble.

"They're not listening. I tried to.." he growled to no one. "It's all a little late, sport. Yes endurance".

Flattening out on the damp sheets with a deep exhale, Peeps knew these words to be so and that they were a test and difficult to apply. He recalled offering long ago in explanation to someone he could not remember, that in understanding the true meaning of the first, you achieve the simplicity of the second and reveal the clarity of the third. The fourth provides the strength and flexibility to continue. Now as he tried to concentrate he knew that he was alone.

Slipping deeper into exhaustion, Sam Peeps tried to gauge if he was awake, asleep or somewhere in between. At these moments, it seemed that Peeps could think clearly and that there was time in which to do so. In the last of his wakefulness, he saw that they were only sensations, the idea of thought much as vanishing pools of light.

Like his memories, they appeared in a fractional split within a second or were spread over hours in broken pieces. It was sometimes as if nothing had ever really existed, and there was now only Samuel Peeps alone on a silently turning earth.

With an odd and slight smile, another peculiar statement came to him as they often did. "In the sharp sun of midday and the deep drop of night, fallen angels, a false prophet and the Son of God".

Between the long days and a murky sleep that felt like being pulled down into an enveloping and sucking fold, recurring thoughts like troubling and formless insects continued to move and float through Peeps mind. A persistent theme that would rise up in this half-state, was of how Indian people of the Americas once believed that a human being could only truly exist and be complete when they had found their own place within their own part of the world.

If this was never found or was lost, a soul could drift and slowly disappear to the living like a fading echo or as a vapour fades in the sun. Like a figure on the landscape. And then he was gone.


Under the early morning sun against a sky of intense blue, a single vehicle drove towards the crest of a great and ruined bridge that was sprung between the docklands and downtown of a quiet city. High above, thin distant clouds drifted over an almost silent world and the lack of any wind or background noise allowed the slow sound of waves from the beachfront to be heard in the distance.

With an easy curving two mile run up from each end, the massive multi-lane gate led out to the west and beyond. The decaying arc of concrete, steel and tar that formed the bridge crossed a river that flowed through town to the sea. From its mid point, two enormous pylons stood high above the road surface.

The grime covered shafts more than doubled the height of the bridge, each one supporting two giant blistered cables that sweated and dripped a brown rusting drool. The heavily scarred cords followed the line of the structure and draped down to the spine of the arch, from where could be seen the whole of the city, which was almost a kilometer away. The sweeping bay was less than half that distance. Across the river, the adjoining freeway cut through the stillness of corroding industrial areas and dead suburbs. Further into the clear distance were the mountains.

On many occasions he had thought about them and how to the eye they did not seem to change, appearing so separate from the uncontrollable slipping away of things. There was the impossible thought that if he focused intensely enough on their perfect and remote forms, everything would stop, remaining as it was. The distant peaks were so unlike the metropolis, left to its relentless breakdown and decay.

Seeing how rapidly almost everything altered and yet nothing happened, gave the feeling of being in a vortex, where everything is breaking up and swallowed down. It seemed clear that whatever he did and however he held to anything, everything would still collapse and drain away, forcing him off-balance and dragging him into the void.

Walking across the full width of the roadway, Peeps gaze was drawn down to the movement of the water below as the twisting filth formed bent circles of grey. Light on his feet and of medium build, Peeps movements gave a startling sense of alertness and energy against a land that was almost a still-life. Though he appeared at times curiously at ease in the emptiness, Sam Peeps was possessed of a deep and swirling energy. And when in repose, he could seem so oddly at peace that he almost disappeared into the surrounding stillness.

In recurring dreams, Peeps saw himself as a single spinning top on a vast, cold and infinitely flat plain, and as he turned, it was as if he was being overwhelmed, then slowly crushed by a great weight. Those he had known pushed through a broken sleep in noiseless columns as he lay immobilized for hours that could turn into days. When he arose, he remembered them reflected in all that he could see and taste in the cool air.

Standing upon the giant span, the river pushing out beneath him, he felt his legs becoming lighter as his weight seemed to shift to his upper body. For several seconds he thought he would fall, turning over and down into the muddy rush. Jerking back from the railing with a snap, he returned to the vehicle where he sat on the hood with his back against the windscreen, his lone figure stretched out while absently fondling an automatic pistol.

Sliding the gun smoothly into a shoulder holster, he found its form comforting as it embraced his torso with an almost liquid, leather affection. From a pocket, he took out a worn black leather wallet and opened it, the sun glinting off the chrome of a small shield, bringing into sharp relief the digits of a serial number embossed on its metal face. His eyes came to the number ten and his thoughts fell to how it had been that many years since the beginning, as the light bent across the words Detective Samuel Peeps.

With a rip of thin metal, he opened a container of bitter drink, a small breath hissing from the can, and he smiled his strange smile as he considered the possibilities of the day. At a distance, the shimmering urban expanse seemed almost alive. He lifted a pair of high-powered binoculars to his eyes.

"Ok", he said. "I can't save anybody". As he spoke his arm knocked an unopened can that rolled off the vehicle and dropped down onto to the asphalt. The cylinder punctured, began spraying liquid and as it gained momentum, cracked against the concrete gutter and bounced onto the gantry running alongside the bridge rising into the day.

Standing up, he pushed his open palms down hard and said "You can't control your environment, kid. You..." For a moment, he swayed a little, with his head held forward, twisted his shoulders from side to side, and breathed deeply. "Right. Wait".

Sliding into the open vehicle, Peeps turned the key and the engine growled as he closed the door with a soft upholstered thud. Moving smoothly into gear, he accelerated rapidly, making a whirling dust devil. The momentum and flow cleared the mind a little and he considered the ordinary in his extraordinary circumstance and the incredible in the commonplace. As the movement of cold air fell across his hot brow, he repeated a drum upon the steering wheel. Save the world. Save the world.

"Ah, the world. I couldn't.." he said as he looked at a photograph on the rear vision mirror.

Roaring down onto the freeway straight, the drag of the vehicle violently stirred up the endless waste that was scattered over the bitumen and collected in thousands of melted drifts. Paper, dust, mud, flood waters and trillions of insect bodies, formed a putrid blackening goo in anything that acted as a catchment.

As Peeps vehicle climbed onto the elevated roadway, the sun reflected in shooting flashes off the lines of the skyscrapers on either side. On nights that had no moonlight, even these cold, great and empty forms disappeared into the vast ink.