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"I don't make hell for nobody. I'm only the instrument of a laughing providence. Sometimes I don't like it myself, but I couldn't help it if I was born smart."

1st Sgt. Milton Anthony Warden.
"From here to Eternity"

Paul Valery

"You are in love with intelligence, until it frightens you. For your ideas are terrifying and your hearts are faint. Your acts of pity and cruelty are absurd, committed with no calm, as if they were irresistible. Finally, you fear blood more and more. Blood and time."

The Wisdom of the Ages

"When a young man, I read somewhere the following: God the Almighty said, 'All that is too complex is unnecessary, and it is simple that is needed',"

Mikhail Kalashnikov
"Here lies the bravest soldier I've seen since my mirror got grease on it."

Zapp Brannigan

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Presidents and Pretenders

The man who would be president:
Ted Cruz, Douchebag, Texas.
Now I know that our boy, Raul doesn't really rock that ink - or them pecs. He's never going to be president either but who doesn't see that coming?
In addition I assume that Ted had little to do with this poster but - I don't care.
We'll get back to Ted's bitchin' tats in a minute. First we've got to talk about a real president (That is: One who's actually had the job)
That would be "Big Bill Taft" . You know the guy, 27th president and later Chief Justice. A Republican.
It happened that, in August of 1920 his house in New Haven, Connecticut was broken into.
He lost a whole bunch of jewelry and bonds and - and I have no idea if this next was a big deal to him or not - the ex-prez-and-soon-to-be Chief Justice lost his Colt M1911.
I seem to recall that the pistol had been part of some presentation along with a plaque and other crap.
But I would guess that no one had ever even fired the damned thing. Before this.

Back-up a second:
Back in the day (1907) a fifteen-year-old named Carl had gotten drunk in a saloon in Montana and somehow (?) ended up in the army.
Now Carl was a fuck-up from the start having been sent to reform school at twelve where he was beat all to hell.
Now, three years later he's in the army and by the end of calender year 1908 he's in jail. Leavenworth.
Three years for larceny, a sentence  which happened to have been approved by then Secretary of War, William Howard Taft.
Realistically it was probably one of a stack of identical forms that Bill signed in a day's time so it's probably coincidence but the miscreant who'd made off with Mrs. Taft's gimcracks and Bill's sweet, sweet pistol (NIB!) just happened to have been our same troubled-youth spoken of just above.
Carl was most definitely a fucked-up individual but I doubt he'd singled Taft out in particular since by 1920 he'd have had a whole dossier of former jailers to choose from.
But what a sweet weapon - and he had to have known that it belonged to Taft.
So, he went about "offing" folks with Big Bill's piece for around ten years.
He'd scored pretty well on the rest of the loot as well so he bought a boat and lured folks (guys - not into chicks) onto it to crew for him. Then he would rape them and shoot them with Taft's gun.
What an unpleasant fucker. He was hanged in 1930 and his last request went as follows:

"Yes, hurry it up, you Hoosier bastard! I could kill a dozen men while you're screwing around!"


Some possessed of a morbid sensibility may already know of Carl Panzram.
We're not going to argue Carl's morality of the state of his immortal soul, he's just here so I can draw attention to something.
Our boy, Raul up there was rocking some sick ink that; A. Wasn't real. Sorry, Ted. nobody's buying.
B. Had its precedents in the modren world.
Check out Carl's tats:
Oh yeah.

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