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Local Chinaman "not the issue"

The Chinese have denied the existence of a recent video released showing the vicious beatings of Tibetans by what appear to be a small Chinese police force. In their defense, a Chinese official proudly stated that because the video was posted over YouTube, a web service that has been officially banned since 2008, they never saw it, it doesn’t exist, and as far as they care, whatever video that happens to be floating around out there is simply pro-Tibet propaganda determined to tarnish the the central Chinese government’s consistent track record displaying its ability to cover up an obvious total crackdown on all unofficial states of mind.

Outside source Walter Sobchack told Elf Wax reporters it was in fact a matter of “unchecked aggression,” saying, “The Chinaman is not the issue here, dude. I’m talking about drawing a line in the sand. Across this line, YOU DO NOT-” Sobchack interrupted himself to iterate that Chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature, requesting reporters and his bowling partner to use the politically correct, updated term, “Asian American, please.”

A Chinese government official was quoted as saying, “The Dalai Lama group is used to fabricating lies to deceive the international community.” The unnamed speaker for the Chinese police-state said he had personally gathered evidence with far-reaching implications in the future dynamics of religion and politics as he went on to complain of yo’ mama jokes which the Dalai Lama and others had made in regards to her weight and intelligence. “Every joke contains a kernel of truth,” he cited, and so the jokes were later proven by the state with photographic and anecdotal evidence to be largely untrue. He said, “she has never tripped over any phone, cordless or otherwise, even when we had telegraph wire lying in the floor of the opium dens.” The Chinese Secretary of Defense Chi Gong was once recorded wearing a wire complimenting [unnamed spokesperson]’s yellow raincoat which he said, “neither made people call out taxi, nor prevented her from hailing one, as our state transportation department cab service is fair, balanced and justified regarding its decisions of who, and who not, to pick up when selecting fares, even in the cases of these vicious beatings, which did not happen, the Tibetans were provided with a prompt, free taxi service to a Tibetan shrine deep into the Earth’s crust.”

However, there was already such public outcry against the Dalai Lama’s earlier mama jokes from prior months that, by this time, the Tibetan spiritual and political leader was exiled indefinitely from Tibet by Chinese authorities. So unlike actual Chinese-Tibetan Buddhist monks, the Dalai Lama protests safely from Dharamshala, India.

In a backstage interview, an unnamed Chinese actor said he portrayed a security guard whose role in the filming of the anti-Chinese propaganda video was to pretend to beat, choke and kick people tied up with mock zip-ties. “For a group of people who have released all worldly possessions, they sure are attached to their land; we want to show the world just how attached they are,” he said. “Hey, you guys wanna go eat some Chinese after this?”
In an interview with an actual Chinese security guard who requested that he not be named, lest the heavy hand of Communism wipe his existence out entirely, said that if what happened in the video were to have actually taken place, “The idea would be to get them acquainted with beatings, captivity and general harassment methods and try to open them up to the idea that staying here isn’t going to be the peaceful, meditative experience they thought they’d live the rest of their lives out to be.” He continued, “What they tell you in the pamphlets and the brochures about this place, whatever it is, it can’t be true. We are constantly beating and torturing these people. Abducting them, interrogating them and locking them away in our prisons. With all the beatings, I really don’t think it’s a very suitable place for retirement into the tranquil arms of unending peace.”

The Dalai Lama said he will turn his back on the failure of Tibet once he finally overcomes how awesome it is that he became the Dalai Lama because he accidentally picked out the right combination of hairbrushes, cups and toys as an infant, an event which some claim he “doesn’t even remember”.

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This just in

Armed cattlemen gather to wrangle up sheep-like capital resource.
Armed cattlemen gather to wrangle up sheep-like capital resource.

Our generation is doomed to the cooperation of all distributors of every major known resource in a valiant effort to turn a buck on the entire human race at each opportunity, degenerating us with PR incentives into an unquestioning, unthinking, digitally satisfied, technologically gratified, self-tending human plantation. If things continue at the pace iPhones and on-demand cable have set out, then we will not evolve, but devolve, the opposable thumb becoming civilization’s fiercest natural enemy.

The total output and sheer growth in numbers of cell phone towers will finally generate a large enough volume of short radio waves through polluted air to double the rate of all conditional cancers so as to make yet more money off the same resource, selling vital medications until the usefulness of a particular hominid’s living insides is so rotted, drugged up and decomposed that only local funeral homes can pick off the last few thousand dollars left in his or her insurance fund. One final score for the cash-vultures willing to carve up your corpse and who don’t mind breathing in a little formaldehyde.

As the Indians took and used all parts of the buffalo but the brain, which they used against the animal’s configurable habits to control it into the killzone, so too does the invisible hand of our unseen master from the front porch of his far-off third-world plantation.

Goodnight.

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A land called the Soviet Union

I started with “jerk off into a cup” – a natural launching point.

Holy dicks, what fucking day is it? Is it time for another? Yes it is.

I spent the day dealing with some very friendly people about a very unfriendly bill that has been sent to collections by way of some unpaid tuition at my money-grubbing University. Those bastards think they’re going to get $2,000 out of me, well they’ve got another thing coming. I’ll give them at least $12,000 more by the time I’m done with them! Those bastards will be swimming so deep in my hard-earned cash they won’t know what hit ’em. They’ll drown in US currency. They’ll have to buy up some more ghetto just to make room for the new cash I want to give them for a degree next year.

That’s where I’m at now – it’s time to buy my degree. I’ve worked at papers and written and photographed and traveled and interviewed and even kissed Jane Fonda’s ass, as every reporter does at some time, or must do on their deathbed, lest they enter the gates of Heaven unscathed by a tired old clash of grandfatherly ideals. So now I’m paying for it, because you see it’s not your experience the industry wants; it’s not your carisma, or your talent or your motivation or even your childish enthusiasm they’re after. No, they want to know that you, too, shelled out an amount of dough greater than or equal to the worth of their own degrees before they’ll even open a god damn portfolio. So be it. I’ll buy the fucking thing and I’ll do it the honest way: by taking money for my sperm downtown.

Sure, I can jerk off into a cup. Have I ever done it before? Not in a cup, no. In a receptacle, maybe, and into a cup indirectly, but never “squirt in the cup, put a lid on it, enjoy your James ma’am.” Five, ten, fifteen years down the road, there could be me: child to a lesbian couple, or perhaps a hardline feminist with filed-down teeth and big gums who wears heavy red flannel and treks out to middle-school-age little league games where she is a stranger. That’s what I want for myself, right now. That’s my goal.

Really, it’d be nice to get all doped up and go to the dentist. My teeth are holier than the bulletproof Pope-mobile. I’m more sensitive to them, too. You can’t see the Pope in his little squad-wagon anymore. They don’t show him. I wish they would. As a child I used to love witnessing the Pope-mobile. It was hilarious. That was before I knew how to jerk off, much less into a cup. And that brings me back to it. Would the pope jerk off into a cup (assuming he had the capacity to engage in a sexually taxing activity like physical masturbation) to save a dying woman’s legacy? How about his own?

I hear we are winning in Iraq so now we’re moving to Afghanistan. Hopefully we will see the same success over there and we can even replicate it in Iran. The UN Chief would like to see that. Sooner or later we’re going to have to go dick against balls with Russia and it’s going to be gritty and you will not see a fear more sinister, more urgent than that which will be pumped out of live television, radio and telegraph broadcasts in our lifetimes on that fateful day when Russian bombers imposing over our inland suburbs like chicken-hawks. The pilots have to use the bathroom, too. “Is that frozen piss-sleet hitting the roof, honey, or is that napalm? I’ll check it this time, you went out last time…”

More on this, as events unfold.