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9/11 and a Pack of Low to the Ground Blood-Bathed Shit-Weasels.

They lured you out of your car and into the bar and they gave you things to drink that you had never tasted before. You were higher and more drunk than you had ever been. You could hardly walk and at the same time you were tenser and more afraid than you had ever been. Someone had slipped you a megadose of the brown acid along with a whole cocktail of nightmares. You didn’t want to look up at the sky anymore because you could see who was riding on the night mare now and the stars were too bright and you hoped daylight would never come.

They took you back to a room full of mattresses stained with blood and semen and who knows what else there was glowing in that radioactive darkness of lies and things that changed shape over and over again but never fixed on anything you could identify. There was teeth and hair and red eyes that lit the room like infra red and you felt your clothes being torn from your body and then...

A whole gang of nasty men with breath that stank of the charnel house used you over and over again. They did everything that bad men sometimes do to women and you knew it didn’t matter if you were a man or not. The only clear truth was that you wouldn’t be a man again. Not in this life. You lost track of time and events. The boundary between life and dreams disappeared and you didn’t know after awhile if this was really happening to you or not. They took pictures while their associates took you in every opening. They took pictures of things you never imagined would happen to you. Occasionally you would see that there were other mattresses in the room and your mother and your sister and brothers and children; if you had any, were being used just like you. When they left they said, “See you on the Internet.”

You woke up the next morning with your mouth and everywhere else that opened from the inside out, caked with a sticky film of excrescence. You could taste all manner of things and you knew the meaning of the phrase about how something must have crawled up there and died. You saw your family spread out among strangers on fly-blown carpets and mattresses. Young children, old people... violated and torn; the men who had drugged you were gone. The fierce daylight came through the broken warehouse windows. You wished you were dead. But you got up and you cleaned yourself in a dirty toilet with brown water and you washed off your family and you took them home.

You are the American public. This happened to you on 9/11, five years ago. That was the first time it happened. Who knows, maybe you developed a taste for it. Maybe there were just too many of them, They had the guns and the uniforms and the identification. So you went with them, back to that warehouse across these last five years many times and you let them do the same things to you, over and over again; to your family and your friends and to everything you ever thought was responsible for making sure that things like this never happened.

During flashbacks you can see some of the men in the room. You see George W. Bush and his family. You see Richard Pearle and Douglas Feith. You see Paul Wolfowitz and Condolezza Rice dressed up in a neoprene waffen SS outfit with a strap-on. You know that strap on. You’ve felt it. You see Dick Cheney and Netan-yahoo, Larry Silverstein and Donald Rumsfield and you see people you see on TV and hear on the radio and read in the newspapers that talk about things that are happening in America and foreign lands and you remember that they were there photographing you and filming you and interviewing you about the things that happened to you in that warehouse.

Today, all of these men and women are going to be all dressed up for the 9/11 Piss and Moan Party. You’re going to hear about Arabs and wars abroad. You’re going to hear about not cutting and running and how we can do anything we want to any time we want to, because it is for your own good; just like the things that happened in that warehouse.

You are going to see all the people you were told to trust and who raped you in that warehouse talking about bullshit and telling you lies.

No one is going to come out and say that the unelected president of the United States and an assortment of neo-cons and Israelis and British Intel thugs orchestrated 9/11. You’re not going to hear that on TV or on the radio today. But I’m going to tell you.

This isn’t the greatest crime they committed. Yes, that was a bad one, like that first night in the warehouse. But the greater crimes are what followed; The Patriot Act and Homeland Security, the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, the secret prisons and Abu Ghraib, the murder of tens of thousands of people who didn’t know anything about anything and who would have never harmed you. Yes, there are other crimes; all that tax money and the gulf between the have’s and have nots, the tanking of the economy and all that debt; the terrible divide between neighbors over those who believe the lie and say nothing happened to you in that warehouse and those who were in the warehouse.

As they fill the screens today with films and pictures from that day, as you see people jumping from the towers, as you hear that saccharine, bombastic soundtrack that accompanies all the bullshit from all the paid liars- all the low to the ground shit weasels that repeat the bullshit. Remember this. This act was done by your government. The people that you didn’t elect and who stole the government sent those planes into those buildings and then brought them down with explosive charges.

Raise your glass to Larry Silverstein who bought the WTC complex even though it was about to be condemned and needed hundreds of millions of dollars of renovation. He bought that complex for 124 million bucks down and then took out billions in terror insurance very shortly before the attacks and then collected 7 billion dollars. Now that is what I call Horatio Alger. That is an American success story. Raise your glass to Dick Cheney who said, “Keep those planes on the ground.” Raise your glass to all the PNAC lying neo-cons who have painted Iraq red with blood. Raise your glass to Rudy Giuliani who knew what was going on and to everyone else who KNEW and toasted themselves while it happened; while the bodies tumbled in air.

Raise your glass to Jack Abramoff who hosted Mohammed Atta and a few others in the days before the attack. Raise your glass to George W. Bush and his pet goat. Raise your glass to the five dancing Israeli Mossad agents that the FBI arrested in their van that stank of explosives and was filled with box cutters and money. Raise your glass to their free departure back home. Raise your glass to the Marvin Bush security firm that took over the WTC security as soon as Silverstein bought the lot. Raise your glass to the liars who own the airwaves and who keep putting out this shit. Raise your glass!!! Raise it especially to yourself and all the dead Iraqi’s who were in the warehouse with you. Raise your glass to the ass that was once yours and is now pimped up and down Main Street USA along with the asses of your wife and your children and your friends. Raise your glass to your bottomless stupidity and lack of courage. Raise your glass to the loss of whatever may or may not have been good and noble in your country and in yourself.

On that day five years ago today there was no Bin Laden assault on America. Your leaders did this, together with British and Israeli intelligence, they did this. So when you mourn today, don’t mourn the dead from the towers or the wars that followed... mourn the loss of your balls and your convictions and the things you let happen to you in the warehouse when you believed a lie. And for all the days after when you went back to the warehouse of your own free will. And for all the things you never were and never will be. Congratulations America. This is your day. This sums you up. This says it all. Congratulations.


Les Visible
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Les Visible

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