THE INFORMATION #925
JANUARY 27, 2017
Copyright 2017 FRANCIS DIMENNO
The funny guy doesn’t get the girl until later in life. High school, college, everyone still wants the brooding, dangerous guy you shouldn’t have. –Will Ferrell
WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER ELEVEN: PART EIGHT: DAYS OF WRATH
“When it comes to Yellofs like Little Joe the lickspittle Grifter,” said Count Victor Justin, “it’s like they’ve never managed to leave high school behind. Or, maybe, it’s like they left some part of themselves behind back in high school. You see that in a lot of people who are currently residing in the Happy Home. How would I know? Being a janitor in the laughing academy is one way to hide out from your creditors, as well as your descendants, and that’s all I have to say on that topic. Most plug-uglies dast not go near the place. It’s like they have a superstitious fear of the insane. Like it’s contagious? And who’s to say they ain’t kee-rect? I know many an alienist who is almost as nutty as his patients. You notice that your average Happy Valley Sanitarium is out in the country, and very seldom in the city. That’s because man was never meant to live in vast conurbations. Man was always intended to dwell in peaceful harmony in the garden of Eden, with ponds where the ducks walk on the backs of the fishes and the fucking ripe grapes just drop right into your fucking cake-hole. Most of the people I talk to nowadays, they think that when you say ‘Paradise’ then you’re talking about a game of craps. But I’m talking about Arcadia. The notion that there was some sort of country paradise where the lamb lay down with the lion and smart and educated people sat on the cool verandah sipping strong waters while slaves did all the work. Ah, well, The North put paid to that notion. Instead of grinning darkeys on the old plantation singing their songs of devotion to “de Massa,” and sleeping on goose-down mattresses with a picture of a watermelon carved into the bedstead, the North would prefer to have them all working in their dark satanic mills where birdies drop dead from the sky with nary a chirp on account of all the smoke and industry and prosperity and the smell of money. I suppose it’s a matter of whether a poor man had rather drop dead in a field of mown hay or in a filthy alley behind a factory. In the mind of Northerners, tradition counts for nothing, as it is so much bushwah. That’s because in the minds of the wheelers and the dealers and the movers and the shakers, tradition is what gets in the way.
“In my mind, your typical public high school is like a factory. Or maybe it’s more like a hospital–a hospital where they amputate your imagination. And i have found pedagogues to be the worst kinds of fools. Imagine a man who is only fit to look after a bunch of overgrown bairns! High school students are barely even human, the lot of them. They are kind of like your cousins.They are stupid and impulsive. They talk too loud and say embarrassing things, and the less they have to say the louder they talk. In fact, they insist on their right to monopolize conversations and bore you with their pompous childishness and jejunity. A callow lad of fifteen has nothing to say to me that I want to hear. Present company excepted, of course. You know how to keep your mouth shut. And that attribute will take you a long way–in the grift.”
And Count Victor Justin looked at me through slits of eyes with a gaze that was ninety-five per cent cold calculation, with about five percent human kindness mixed in.
“High School is not real, Yob. It’s a dress rehearsal. It’s fantasy land. All the world’s a stage, and high school is the backstage, where Yellofs learn the lines that are going to carry them through the great play. ‘I’ve been sick.’ ‘I forgot.’ ‘It won’t happen again.’ And the teachers all recite their lines in response, as if by rote. ‘I’ll need a note from your doctor.’ ‘That mistake will cost you.’ ‘I’ll let it go this time, but see that it doesn’t happen again.’ ” I pity the teacher who isn’t cut out for ordering bairns around and wiping their snot noses for them and occasionally dusting their britches, too. If a grown man can’t get one over on that lot, then what the hell good is he? Trouble is, what you end up teaching your charges is the same old shit that you yourself were taught 20 or 30 years ago, when you were a schoolboy. The same old useless rot.
“Show me a man who had a miserable time in high school and I’ll show you a man who didn’t know how to play all the angles. A man with no grift sense. If you can’t master the hoops and ladders of graduating from such a place, then you deserve anything you get, says I. You are nothing better than a weakling with a feeble intellect. The playground is a jungle. Survival of the fittest is the name of the song. Avoiding the myriad pitfalls of being bossed around for several hours a day by a bunch of lackeys–there’s the key. It’s not so much what you do–it’s what you manage to avoid having to do. Like the Egyptian notion of the afterlife. They took along small statues of slaves–to do their work for them. Which just goes to show–it’s always better to have a slave to do they heavy lifting–even in heaven.
“I’m convinced that only yobs who are supremely indifferent to their own fate are capable of mastering a few simple tricks to make high school into an endurable experience. First and foremost, you must be willing to fight anybody who comes along, and bite them in the face if it comes right down to it. Nobody will ever give you a hard time again, I’ll warrant. I don’t care how tough you think you are–nobody likes getting bitten in the face.
“Meanwhile, you have to learn a lot of dry and useless facts that nobody gives a hoot in hell about. Never once, while cheating at cards, did I ever ponder the causes of the difference in climate between Eastern and Western Washington State. Never once, while cozening an out-of-town sucker with the good old gold brick, did I wonder about five of the principal crops of the United States, and the section where each crop was raised. Never once, while rolling a drunk, did I have good cause to mull over the principal wine exports of Portugal. And not one time, in all my travels, nor during all my time in stir, did I ever have good cause debate the difference between Puritans, Pilgrims, and Separatists.
“Most of all, there’s the endless teaching of American history! Such a dry and useless topic! We haven’t been around long enough to have a history. All there is, is gossip. And, even at that, you never learn any of the interesting stuff in the classroom. The schools would have you believe that the Presidents are a bunch of plaster saints to be worshipped at the altar of the constitution. But that is far from the truth. They never tell you about any of the real skinny. Like how Ben Franklin was a dope fiend. And George Washington used to ‘swill the Planters with bumbo’—essentially, he was following the British custom of bribing his constituents with alcohol in order to get elected. Adams was famed for his aristocratic tastes. He had a weakness of Sherry wine. Jefferson allegedly had a substantial wine cellar. Van Buren was very fond of whiskey. Frankie Pierce was the world’s biggest tosspot. Of course, his oldest son got killed in a train wreck right before his eyes, so maybe that was why he figured there was nothing left to do but get drunk. Honest Abe Lincoln never drank. Maybe he should have. His Vice President, Andrew Johnson, was said to over-indulge. Lincoln defended him. “Andy ain’t no drunk,” he said. This rumor gained currency because at Lincoln’s second inauguration, Johnson had a few drinks to steady his nerves, and made a fool of himself. Johnson was a slobbering drunk, and that’s all there was to it. Grant was a known booze hound, but he didn’t drink while he was in the White House–or, so they say. Grover Cleveland loved to rush the growler. And nobody knows for sure if Teddy Roosevelt is a drunk or not–all they know is that he’ll sue you if you say he is.”
TRAVELS IN NIHILON
You’ve learnt no lessons
All that time so cheaply spent
There’s no youth culture
Only masks they let you rent
Travels, travels in Nihilon
We’ve seen, no Jesus come and gone
Fashion, their vampire
Drapes itself across your back
As you fall from style
It waits rebirth on its rack
Building your whimsy
Hypnotising you to need
MELT THE GUNS
ENGLISH SETTLEMENT (1982)
A great drummer’s album. Especially “No Thugs In Our House.” And the bass on “Knuckle Down” is particularly fine.
FOOD STAMP FABLES
THE DYNAMITE EATING GOAT
CANVA: AMAZINGLY SIMPLE GRAPHIC DESIGNER SOFTWARE
5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
HOW IKEA USES FOOD TO TRICK YOU INTO BUYING FURNITURE
6* DAILY UTILITY
NICKNAMES OF THE STATES (1884)
ISIS COLORING BOOK
What’s the word? / Thunderbird / How’s it sold? / Good and cold / What’s the jive? / Bird’s alive / What’s the price? / Thirty twice.”
It is said that Ernest Gallo once drove through a tough, inner city neighborhood and pulled over when he saw a bum. When Gallo rolled down his window and called out, “What’s the word?” the immediate answer from the bum was, “Thunderbird.”
For Scots, a Scourge Unleashed by a Bottle
“…the drink had been mentioned in 5,638 crime reports between 2006 and 2009 (the bottle was used as a weapon in 114 of them).”
“It goes straight to your head,” he said, “but it’s not my cup of tea.” (Mr. Rooney noted that his cup of tea is half a bottle of vodka a night.)
Drinkin’ Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee
David Talbot names Allen Dulles as ‘the Chairman of the Board of the Assassination’
THE CRIMES OF “MY WAY”
ED’S REDEEMING QUALITIES
MORE BAD TIMES
11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
FUCK WHITE PEOPLE
CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
- TRIPLE PARENTHESES
Certain alt-right people were using (((this))) is a signifier of Jewishness–for two years!– until they were finally called out.
In a June 2016 article detailing the phenomenon, Mic also reported that an extension had been developed for the Google Chrome web browser known as “Coincidence Detector”, which automatically places the triple parentheses around the names of individuals who “[have] been involved in certain political movements and media empires”. The extension contains a list of 8,771 names, including common Jewish names and surnames, those of media personalities who have been critical of Trump, Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner, as well as organizations such as Ben & Jerry’s and Kars4Kids.
- CRUMB ON TRUMP
- TRUMP’S BEST QUOTES AS COMIC BOOKS
- WHAT IS THE WITTIEST PIECE OF SARCASM SAID BY A POLITICIAN?
- WHAT IS THE MOST DEPRESSING ONE-LINER?