Wednesday, July 31, 2013

His Speech Obsessed with Oaths, Demons, His Tongue Calling Forth the Foul Fiend

Screenshot from 8:30 last night. No one expected a different outcome, the multiple guilty verdicts. No other outcome was possible, there was never a chance Manning wouldn't spend the rest of his life in jail, something Manning knew when he went to Wikileaks. Military prosecutors dealt striking rebuke? Here's how nuts I am: I suspect the aiding the enemy charge was made so it could be rejected, the resulting See! See! it's not an inhumane system for an Oathbreaker! Fucking Oathbreaker!  conveniently distracting reminders of Manning's previous torture before trial and subsequent miserable life in prison after. Not to mention distracting from what Manning revealed about what this country does. I also believe it entirely possible Power wanted Manning as damned as they could. Yes, I'd bet it's the latter, I've heard the defense that Power is so brutal in its inept execution of will I should stop confusing institutional violence with motive: power means well but oops. Still, I ask you, of those two choices, which is more proof of American decadence?


Tom Sleigh

But where, oh where is the holy idiot,
truth teller and soothsayer, familiar

of spirits, rat eater, unhouseled wanderer
whose garble and babble fill rich and poor,

homeless and housed, with awe and fear?
Is he hiding in the pit of the walkie-talkie,

its grid of holes insatiably hungry,
almost like a baby, sucking in the police

sergeant's quiet voice as he calls in reinforcements?
Oh holy idiot, is that you sniffing the wind

for the warm turd smell on the mounted policemen
backing their horses' quivering, skittish

haunches into the demonstrators' faces?
Oh little village among the villages,

the wild man, the holy Bedlamite is gone,
and nobody, now, knows where to find him...

Lying in mud? lying caked in mud, hair elfed into knots?
Some poor mad Tom roving the heath

for a warm soft place to lie his body down,
his speech obsessed with oaths, demons,

his tongue calling forth the Foul Fiend, Flibbertigibbet
as the horses back slowly, slowly into the crowd

and he eats filth, he crams his ravenous mouth with filth—
and then he sits on his stool in the trampled hay

and deep-rutted mud, he anoints himself
with ashes and clay, he puts on his crown

of fumiter weed and holds his scepter
of a smouldering poker and calls the court to order.


  1. The binary choice is completely false so I can't choose. You say "I suspect the aiding the enemy charge was made so it could be rejected" but I think you got that completely wrong. I think the "aiding the enemy" charge was a backdoor attempt to curtail the press. And the reason it was rejected is because they lingered so long that the press figured it out and brought the weight of their lobbying to bear. Nothing would make those with big cigars happier than being able to shut up the press.

    IMO your conspiracy theories aren't big or broad enough. ;)

    1. Heh. I *was* lazy, I started to map out other alternatives then decided to search for Minimal Man songs. And while I'd like to think the big cigars were worried about the press, with very few exceptions (who no doubt the big cigars DO want to threaten), the press does what the big cigars want. Though it is oddly reassuring to hear you admit you're loonier than me!

      As for the comment at the White place, no, I'm afraid comments do not convey between colors.