Seven Banned Words Needing Deployment NOW on the One Percent

Oh the horror of it, the Tony Blair-Clinton Bear-Obama Osama-Kissigner-Pelosi-Feinstein of it all!

Interesting, the stuff Felicity Arbuthnot (August 2nd, 2014) wrote about Tony Blair and the Mafia Middle Easterners known in some circles as Stockholm Syndrome Nazis – can you imagine Jews in Israel taking their marching orders from the Third Reich, from the Final Solution pharmacists, from the entire project on usury, militarism, and atrophied hearts and sociopathic economics, cultural crassness and genocide that define what it is to be a Zionist there, here, anywhere?

Tony Blair? What is it about language? What is it about this neutering of heart, soul, passion, compassion and anger? What have we done in those Mary Kay and Tupperware moments, when the K12 system is exclusively (almost) women, where administrators take bizarre courses on human handling, on how to spot malcontents, on what to do with boys (and girls) who might show rebelliousness, who might not believe the system upon system of education, who might be ornery, tired of the relentless consumer attack, who might be just plain toxified by it all, from diet in the gut to the diet in the head?

Tony Blair is a piece of shit (add George Carlin’s list below), elitist, a rotten Brit, a little bag of terror, a mighty weakling who was voted in and debated around and fled his humanity, if he ever had any, and ended up in the pockets of the arms dealers, the thieves in banking, and his camouflaged yellow streak got his army into the mix, got on board with another piece of shit human, George Bush, and, well, their entire gang of politicos, cricket and Friday Nights bowlers and footballers are why we need extermination (okay, education, as in reeducation camps) when the vermin get so big and full of disease they are the seed to another plague after another plague.

Talking to a friend, dealing with a 13th lawyer, divorce, CALIF-style, with a child in the mix, and a super-star lawyer for a wife, err, separated one. Lawyer after lawyer, the worst of the fleas and rabid skunks, charging $800 or $1400 an hour, these cretins who have judges and contracts and the fearless homicidal law on their side.

You can’t be passionate or mad at or angry with or expressive toward the scum of the earth – LAWYERS –who will get restraining orders and charges leveled at a father who is fighting for custody arrangements for a son.

This is the shit of our times, really, and unfortunately, much of the neutering is being done with women at the helm of some of these disastrous ships of human degradation. Oh, the Madeline Albrights who not only did not want to address the murder charges when I spoke to her, but who has a legion of other rotten people, men and a lot of women, who just boo, hiss and deny our humanity by stopping us from being HUMAN, or by humiliating us as boys who might just not want to believe the feminization of the inner ring of people running and ruining education, psychology (not that is was ever GREAT), communications, even literature and art. She’s a piece of shit, and she is a killer, like the lot of them.

You see, I am observing fewer and fewer men in schools as mentors and educators, and the ones that run the systems as VPs or presidents or provosts, what have you, well, they stink like lawyers, a bit – all smiles, all ham-fisted false equivocating, and right there, as little Eichmanns and big bad cops or enforcers or male haters, and they are MALE, gender-wise (well, maybe).

Not all, mind you, women in office or important position, of course, but more and more are male haters or offenders, and you see it on TV, in the halls of academia, in the reality of day to day what it is to be a slipping and sliding human in Western Culture/Civilizaiton.

Come on, these pigs of the male breed we know, from Rush to Rand to Jon Stewart to John Kerry and Koch and Emmanuel of Chicago, and LA Clippers’ owner/husband/wife and you name them.

BUT, do not forget about the pigs on the other slope of the gender line – all the Samantha Rices, all those Hillary Clinton types, that Victoria N. pig in the Kerry Crew, or, well, the list is extensive. Until you have both males and females declawed, voice boxes altered, not one iota of truth in their happy and so-so diplomatic two-faced personalities.

Think of the neutered ones in the press corps, all those administrators, all those teachers, all those business idiots, the people in state, county, city offices, all of them bloodless, tied to following orders, not exhibiting a grain of passion.

I hear it when I talk to DNA-mutated insurance agents, who would have someone like me dare question why in their felonious existence they would force individuals wanting to make extra money taking people to appointments, to recreational activities, life enhancement, in general, for a small fee, mileage included. THEY call this commercial use of a vehicle, and personal insurance does not cover it, yet, these State Farms and Liberty Mutuals and All States, DO NOT OFFER coverage to individuals taking granny or the neighbor to the county fair, for a small fee. They’d end up screwing the passenger by denying coverage, and screw the policy holder, the driver.

This in a nutshell is the neuterizaton of a society that has allowed these pigs, these voices on the other end of the phone, to lecture us, to threaten us, if we DARE question their bottom line, their sick and unfair economies of scale, and their very existence as insurers?

You get a rebate from your insurance company IF you don’t make a claim? What kind of ball-less, ovary-less society have we created?

These National Propaganda-Zionist-Hipster-IT-App Radio thinkers, these laughers like Scott Simon, Steve Inske, the entire cadre of people lying about bombs, gutless, emotionless, eastern educated, in the kennels of the rotten academics, Georgetown or Bernard or any Poison Ivy league school, where compliancy, neoliberalism, faux liberalism, goofy environmentalism-goofier LGBTQ mumbo jumbo, all the crap of the democratic party mixing in with the purveyors of chemicals, cluster bombs, callousness teach them to follow the leader, be the denuded, heartless, modulated creeps of the polictical-business-legal-industrial-academic-miliary-retail-investor class.

Fucking $1800 an hour to screw they neighbor, screw thy wife-husband-child, suck the retirements from entire states, implode the futures of cities and counties who are stuck with these 12 or 20 or 100 percent interest rates on bonds to improve sewers or water.

And, the rest of us who have no compunction not to swat back at the Tony Blairs and his entire league of people, friends, what have yous. These people are mean and weak, small and backed by armies, SWAT teams, the inside jobbers.

You see it in that retarded Clinton, now going on with his barrel of lies about almost taking out Osama, save for a few civilians in the way. Where do these people, southern-texan-eastcoast egos come from? Can you imagine the 99.99 percent of the daily lying and daily sociopathic tendencies these Feinstein’s and Harry Reids and Nancy Pelosi’s and the head of GM, woman or man, but in the end, it’s been k12 and higher education where the feminization, the mind and soul stripping that has been happening across the land, and from this 57-year-old’s perspective — one steeped in the “right” kind of feminism, the right kind of “diversity,” the right kind of “environmentalism,” and on and on with the “right kinds of “. . .. fill in the blanks movements of political-ethical-environmental-cultural-artistic philosophies – we are hormone-disrupted, penciled-necked, pencil-pusher, ADMIN-Classed into submission by the lying, cheating, killing lawyers-HR creeps-Institutional Management fops, whatever you want to find in this waning, TV-watching, infantile-thinking consumer society.

You can’t talk about why the Jews in Israel are racists, why the Canadians loving the Harper-esque unmanly ways are racists, why the American project on the coin of the realm, to be included in the operating plans for many of the chosen people, those who collectively make up .18 percent of the human population, why they are the worse kind of racists, having had their own European final solution transcribed to the Palestinians.

We are told to act nice, use our inside voices, to not speak out of turn, to speak for only three minutes before the gavel strikes and the SWAT team double strikes. We have to stand up for corrupt and pedophile judges, stand at attentions for sadomasochistic cops when we get pulled over. We can’t use this word or that phrase, and we have to believe that all cultural issues, from legalized pot to legal same-sex marriage, that all of those aberrations of the mind are the only things really important, next to the recycle bin and compostable toilet.

Endless mistreatment of boys, endless broken systems in the nanny state, in the business world, where boss is god and non-disclosure statements the norm. Etc., etc. This is a world of men being bashed, and a system that screwed humanity, screwed women, and now, well, it’s messed up stuff, with men acting like women and women acting like men. Acting.

ACTING. This is the unreality reality state, all navel gazing and selfie-enhanced nothingness. Entire lunchroom conversations on the pap of dead culture, pop culture, sports culture, shopping culture, all of it DEAD.

And, much of what is happening bad is not just because of the big bad chauvinist male. Women have moved into the realm of the “use your inside voice . . . play nice . . . no micro aggressions . . . stop being a little boy and little man . . . just follow the rules and paint inside the lines and stay away from my mind-numbing world.

Young men a couple of months ago, seniors in a rural high school, admitting to me and themselves that “we will be twenty year olds or 25 year old techies who dosn’t know how to change the oil and oil filter in our cars . . .we are really embarrassed . . . what happened?”

Oh, these weak and wussy and maligned people. Football players who beat their wives, who rape the girls, who play macho-macho with the cocks and pitbulls . . . and then the creeps on TV, the whining women and men, lost souls, overpaid analysts, media mushers, the end of the line in terms of human DNA, on and on, the recriminations, the rotten Facebook links, the overkill, the death of culture-art-anything, because we are a passionless society, all there when it comes to making money doing either nothing for humanity or all the bad things for humanity.

Imagine, each and every link in the broken society, that society that sucks the life out of little boys, that pushes little girls to be the new little boys, and, well, the entire mess is managed by the hedge funders, the nanny state in and out of government, the legal eagles, all those professional pain deliverers, the poor haters, and the poor creators.

What is it we should call Truman or Reagan or Anne Coulter or Bill O’Reilly? What is it that Kissinger and every one of his “dames “ should be called? The Bush-loving Bono, the u2 playing head first on the insipid Sons of Anarchy. Imagine that Bono creep, that Christian, working that multi-millionaire magic, and his creepy group’s music as the theme son for that sick-sick Sons of Anarchy in this world of Kardashians and Breaking Bad and all the breaking wind unmanly and unwomanly stuff of this Zuckerberg-Bezos-Spotify age.

They are they are, all of them, several million prime time suspects, at least those One Percenters , and their military industrial complex supporters, all of the, come on, you know what they should be called? George Carlin did, and so does the FCC, that little list of all those words, hyphenated or not, not admissible on the air, sort of!

Middle East Peace Envoy? that’s what Blair is called? Decorum, here, now? None of those banned words spiced up to really call that Blair, et al a spade. Seven words! Ahh, if we only had the balls and guts and ovaries to use them on the police, all of those police in the One Percent! George, help me!

Here is the original George Carlin comedy routine that caused the fracas.

“I love words. I thank you for hearing my words. I want to tell you something about words that I uh, I think is important. I love…as I say, they’re my work, they’re my play, they’re my passion. Words are all we have really.

We have thoughts, but thoughts are fluid. You know, [humming]. And, then we assign a word to a thought, [clicks tongue]. And we’re stuck with that word for that thought. So be careful with words. I like to think, yeah, the same words that hurt can heal. It’s a matter of how you pick them.

There are some people that aren’t into all the words. There are some people who would have you not use certain words. Yeah, there are 400,000 words in the English language, and there are seven of them that you can’t say on television. What a ratio that is. 399,993 to seven. They must really be bad. They’d have to be outrageous, to be separated from a group that large. All of you over here, you seven. Bad words. That’s what they told us they were, remember? ‘That’s a bad word.’ ‘Awwww.’ There are no bad words. Bad thoughts. Bad Intentions.

And words, you know the seven don’t you? Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, huh? Those are the heavy seven. Those are the ones that will infect your soul, curve your spine and keep the country from winning the war.

Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, wow. Tits doesn’t even belong on the list, you know. It’s such a friendly sounding word. It sounds like a nickname. ‘Hey, Tits, come here. Tits, meet Toots, Toots, Tits, Tits, Toots.’ It sounds like a snack doesn’t it? Yes, I know, it is, right. But I don’t mean the sexist snack, I mean, New Nabisco Tits. The new Cheese Tits, and Corn Tits and Pizza Tits, Sesame Tits Onion Tits, Tater Tits, Yeah. Betcha can’t eat just one. That’s true I usually switch off . But I mean that word does not belong on the list.

Actually, none of the words belong on the list, but you can understand why some of them are there. I am not completely insensitive to people’s feelings. You know, I can dig why some of those words got on the list…like cocksucker and motherfucker. Those are…those are heavy-weight words. There’s a lot going on there, man. Besides the literal translation and the emotional feeling. They’re just busy words. There’s a lot of syllables to contend with. And those K’s. Those are aggressive sounds, they jump out at you. CocksuckerMotherfuckerCocksucker. It’s like an assault, on you. So I can dig that.

And we mentioned shit earlier, of course. Two of the other 4-letter Anglo-Saxon words are Piss and Cunt, which go together of course. But forget about that. A little accidental humor there. Piss and Cunt. The reason Piss and Cunt are on the list is that a long time ago certain ladies said ‘Those are the two I am not going to say. I don’t mind Fuck and Shit, but P and C are out. P and C are out.’ Which led to such stupid sentences as ‘OK, you fuckers, I am going to tinkle now.’

And of course the word Fuck. The word Fuck, I don’t really…well, this is some more accidental humor, but I don’t really want to get into that now. Because I think it takes too long. But I do mean that. I mean, I think the word fuck is an important word. It’s the beginning of life, and, yet it’s a word we use to hurt one other, quite often. And uh, people much wiser than I have said, I’d rather have my son watch a film with two people making love than two people trying to kill one other. And I of course agree. I wish I know who said it first, and I agree with that. But I would like to take it a step further. I would like to substitute the word fuck, for the word kill in all those movie cliches we grew up with. ‘Okay Sheriff, we’re gonna fuck ya now. But we’re gonna fuck ya slow.’ So maybe next year I’ll have a whole fuckin’ rap on that word. I hope so.

Uh, there are two-way words, but those are the seven you can never say on television. Under any circumstances you just cannot say them ever, ever ever, not even clinically. You cannot weave them in the panel with Doc and Ed and Johnny, I mean it’s just impossible, forget those seven, they’re out.

But, there are some two-way words. There are double-meaning words. Remember the ones your giggled at in sixth grade? ‘And the cock crowed three times.”Hey, the cock the cock crowed three times. It’s in the bible.’ There are some Two-way words, like it’s okay for Curt Gowdy [mis-spelled in original transcription. -ed.] to say ‘Roberto Clemente has two balls on him.’ But he can’t say, ‘I think he hurt his balls on that play Tony, don’t you? He’s holding them. He must have hurt them by God.’ And the other two-way word that goes with that one is prick. It’s okay if it happens to your finger. Yes, you can prick your finger, but don’t finger your prick. No, no.”

Paul Haeder's been a teacher, social worker, newspaperman, environmental activist, and marginalized muckraker, union organizer. Paul's book, Reimagining Sanity: Voices Beyond the Echo Chamber (2016), looks at 10 years (now going on 17 years) of his writing at Dissident Voice. Read his musings at LA Progressive. Read (purchase) his short story collection, Wide Open Eyes: Surfacing from Vietnam now out, published by Cirque Journal. Here's his Amazon page with more published work Amazon. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.