Category Archives: anarchy

Riot Dog will see your Caturday and raise you

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Hell.

Riot Dog will take a bite out of the IMF

Riot Dog will take a bite out of the IMF

Did you even know that the Greeks have a kind of tradition of riot dogs? How awesome is that? On the other hand, a necessary precondition for a tradition of riot dogs is a tradition of riotry, which is not so awesome when it extends decades in each direction with no end in sight until both sides run out of money for ammunition.

via YourAnonNews and proof that Riot Dog is my spirit animal. He’s as as fluid of iteration as any “official member” of Anonymous, his yellow coat and floppy ears own his V for Vendetta mask and vastly more prevalent among the canine population than masks of any sort, really, which would look sort of silly; ubiquity confers effective immortality; you’ve gotta admit, that’s pretty intelligent for someone who isn’t even a border collie. Now all you cat people? Can just curl into a fetal ball and wait for someone to open a can for you, like always. Play them off, Keyboard Cat.

and now, a word from our sponsors

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Not just “a word,” but “WORD!”

via the always-awesome JulianAssangeFanciersGuild

On the Morally Ambivalent Robin Hood Criminal Archetype in the Early Twenty-First Century OR Julian Assange is a Big, Fat Stainless Steel Rat

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which is nothing less, although possibly nothing more, than a comparison of Julian Paul Assange, founder of Wikileaks, recipient of the Sydney Peace Foundation medal, the UK Media Award from Amnesty International,  the Sam Adams award, the Martha Gellhorn Prize for Journalism, (etc etc TK already) and the minor sci-fi character James Bolivar (“Slippery Jim”) diGriz, aka de rat van roestvrij, aka die Edelstahlratte, aka El Escurridizo, aka un criminale al nichel-cromo, aka (my favorite) Ratinox, aka the (you thought we’d never get here, didn’t you?) Stainless Steel Rat, protagonist of Harry Harrison’s The Stainless Steel Rat books, a moderately popular but enduring series of science fiction comedy-adventure serials.

Harry Harrison on OK Cupid oh and Cupid is SO NOT OKAY with using a fake name

Harry Harrison on OK Cupid oh and Cupid is SO NOT OKAY with using a fake name

Did I say “Harry Harrison?” Gee, it’s awfully early in the post to be that confused: of course I did! That name should ring a few bells for Assangeologists, particularly those of a fangirlish turn, for it is the usernomdeplume that Assange employed on sites as High Nerdy as delicious and as decidedly non-nerdy as OKCupid (come for the casual sex, stay for the quizzes!).

That’s so funny: every guy I know calls himself “Steve” on dating sites.

Well, it occurred to one (and that one this one, this one right here) that, worthy as Mr. Harrison’s screenplay for Soylent Green undoubtedly was, that sort of thing won’t get you far on a dating site (although it is a people business, come to think of it but now that I have, I wish I hadn’t. Not to say it doesn’t explain a whole lot about my dating life, but ENOUGH of that line of thinking, moving ON! What? What? STOP LOOKING AT ME) dystopian dramas really don’t pull the chicks like being a dashing James Bond villain-type.

Viva Julian the TinTinja, but that's a whole OTHER post.

Viva Julian the TinTinja, but that's a whole OTHER post.

Of the type typified by the above-mentioned and highly morally ambivalent Stainless Steel Rat. So I’m thinking, Golly, if I were a dashing James Bond villain-type of man who was strongly identifying with the works of Harry Harrison (not Harrison himself, because that would be creepy and somewhat self-defeating on a dating site as he is well out of Top Pulling age range although I’m sure a charming enough man in person and with some advantageous lighting) I would be identifying with ol’ Slippery Jim, you bet your sweet bippy I would, whatever that is, because whatever Harrison’s other books, Return to Eden, West of Eden, and Winter in Eden are about, I’m relatively sure they are NOT related to the rather tedious Anne Rice erotic novel, and believe me, there’s nobody in there you’d actually want to identify with, particularly if they could be played convincingly in a movie by Rosie O’Donnell, as none of them were, according to the reviews. And Clan of the Cave Bear, which I imagine to be much the same, didn’t get anybody laid. So, that.

And here, an interlude, because my English teachers taught me you can never have too many references in a scholarly work of this nature.

DiGriz himself, although an accomplished liar and a notorious intergalctic thief, did have values, he saw his exploits as not only a means to get rich but also as an entertainment for the masses which caused his plans to get bigger, brasher and bolder…he had a reputation to uphold after all. He was also quite proud of the fact that he never took a penny from anyone without insurance cover and his intended targets were usually powerful institutions with little scruples themselves.

But where was I? Oh yes, introducing Ratinox. Did you ever see the old Batman tv series? Stick with me here, this is good stuff. There’s a payoff, I promise. So, “Batman” was my sister’s first word, but no, that’s not the payoff (unless you’re the proud parent who can swan around the play group for weeks like a queen because YOUR little girl’s first word had two syllables and was a superhero besides; OR you are The Sister, in which case you’re used to this bullshit but are glad it’s you-centric for once). In those old Batman series, as rich a guide to the world of comic comicbook criminality as existed, just before the villain tried to kill off Bats and the Boy Blunder, he’d tell them the whole plan from start to finish, slowly, presumably for those in the audience too stupid to riddle out the riddles (which meant everyone who couldn’t afford the kinds of drugs the writers were on at the time). And so it is with the comic comicbook criminality of Slippery Jim diGriz, who will tell you just everything about himself if you read far enough through the books, and you will, if only to see if his wife finally does kill him or not.

So, let us read. All excerpts below are just from The Stainless Steel Rat for President, the most political of the books (yes, this is going to be a whole series; there are a LOT of books):

Anon and On

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Anonymous vs the Police which is not exactly a new thing

Anonymous vs the Police which is not exactly a new thing

Dear Nonymite: you do realize you’re flipping off the photographer, not the cops, right? Jesus, EVERYONE hates the paparazzi!

Compare and contrast to our earlier Nony in London:

Work it, V!

Work it, V!

This is a democracy! VOTE, DAMMIT!!!

Whichever you prefer, the mere existence of Anonymous reminds us that the present moment, yes, this exact moment, is one that has never come before, and will never exist again. It won’t be long until existing power structures have either shattered into a new, digital Brownian Motion model of solipsistic yet collaborative civilization OR the fascists have infiltrated and wiped out the free thinkers, resulting in something akin to the Orwellian KleptoReich that Putin’s got going in Russia.

And that, my friends, reminds me of this, from the great prophet Hunter S. Thompson. Think carefully about these words, because for just this particular second of time, they apply again.

“It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era — the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run… but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant…

History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of ‘history’ it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time — and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened

My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights — or very early mornings — when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour… booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turnoff to take when I got to the other end… but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: no doubt at all about that…

There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda… You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning…

And that, I think, was the handle — that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply PREVAIL. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave…

So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.”

Where will you be when it does?

UPDATED: a couple of hours after I posted this, I found the following video, which claims to lay out the one-year plan of Anonymous. Presenting The Plan:

“While the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power.”

I have a copy of the Manual of Afghani Jihad (the CIA translation) and selections from the Japanese Kamikaze documents, and said back then that if we in the West had any documents as spiritually compelling as those, we would have no alienated teens, no existential crises. It’s literally unthinkable to most people in the affluent nations that their individual lives could actually have meaning; why is this so, when their nations wield the greatest financial and political power on the planet? When they enjoy personal freedoms undreamed-of in most of civilization and throughout history? Why is this, when destitute citizens of the poorest states on Earth change history every day as if it’s their birthright?

And it is.

Could this video and plan from Anonymous actually be That Call, the call to the hearts of the people of the West, for which we have been waiting?

Only you can answer that.

Crowning Glory

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From nearby in the blogosphere comes news that the stars are nigh unto aligned and the glorious new era is upon the threshold. From news sources and historians comes evidence that the allies are preparing, making smooth the way for the return of the Great Old Ones.

From Olde Strasbourg:

 

This was during the Krakatoa eruption, when Rlyeh briefly surfaced

This was during the Krakatoa eruption, when Rlyeh briefly surfaced

Yes, the allies from the kings of the jungle even unto the smallest vermin that crawls, unseen yet lathesomely felt, through the teeming maze of our urban decayscapes, have begun to unite in expectation of The Great Rising!

 

Why is it always Germany? Are their rats particularly activist?

Why is it always Germany? Are their rats particularly activist?

Science shows that, in at lesat some cases, rat kings/crowns have been formed while the attached rats were still alive and growing, indicating strongly that these rats were holy, set apart, and that servant rat classes brought them food and attended to their every sordid bodily need while they awaited the glorious Return of the Great Old Ones.

Evidence (you KNOW we’re all about the evidence around these parts):

rat crown xray is all sciency and irrefutable, so there!

rat crown xray is all sciency and irrefutable, so there!

As well-documented in the manuscript known as The Call of Cthulhu, such a pivotal time affects not only the lower orders, but also the sensitives among us, from the most Strindbergian slam poet to the dandies of the Royal Portrait Gallery.

Rat King, the watercolour

Rat King, the watercolour. Somewhat Twomblyesque, non?

Even innocent embroiderers have had hideous glimpses of the godless Gordian knot:

And in another age, these would have been daisies!

And in another age, these would have been daisies!

Truly a motif for our time. We can only shudder and whisper horror-struck guesses at the unspeakable, Transformer-like superpowers to be unlocked by a successful unification!

Rat King sculpture, RATTENKONIG! COWER, MORTALS!

Rat King sculpture, RATTENKONIG! COWER, MORTALS!

Rat King Perfection ACHIEVED unlocking superpowers now

Rat King Perfection ACHIEVED unlocking superpowers now

Soon, very soon, Cthulhu will rise again.

Okay, whose job was it to bring the vaseline?

Okay, whose job was it to bring the vaseline?

Just as soon as we get this situation straightened out.