Killing for the Community: The evolution of homicidal self-sacrifice

Suicide Mission: March 8, 2016

At five o’clock in the evening, Fouad Tamimi turned his motorcycle east onto Sultan Suleiman Street on the north side of Jerusalem’s Old City, ready to die.

The young Palestinian sped along the ancient stone wall toward the Damascus Gate, a looming battlement leading into the bazaar between the Muslim and Christian quarters of the Old City. A squad of Border Police were posted at the entrance — probably more than usual, because earlier that day officers had gunned down a 50 year-old Arab woman who had allegedly tried to stab one of them with a serrated steak knife. The story was all over the news that morning. Her blood had barely dried when the Palestinian killer slowed his bike, leveled his Carl Gustav 9mm submachine gun, and opened fire on the Israelis.

One went down, blood spraying. The “Carlo” isn’t the most accurate weapon, but it works.

Tamimi revved his bike and cut left at the next roundabout, directly in front of an Israeli police station, and made his way north up the bustling Salah A-Din Street. Arabs were out shopping or just hanging around storefronts, talking. Security forces closed in on the gunman. Tamimi turned and fired again, hitting another Israeli. Shoppers scattered and scurried indoors. You could hear the shots from the National Hotel, just around the corner, where I was sitting in the dining room.

Reading back through the news stories today, I imagine the intensity of the young man’s experience: heart racing, wind roaring in his face, prayers to Allah on his lips, bursts of adrenaline dumping sugar into his bloodstream, pupils dilating, every sense sharpened, everything moving in slow motion. Years of heroic dreams finally coming to life. The ultimate sacrifice for Palestine, for family, for glory.

For God.

An Israeli officer took aim at Fouad Tamimi, and with a gentle squeeze of the finger created another martyr for the resistance. One soul goes under the surface and a thousand emotional ripples go out. When I arrived moments later, a crowd of Arabs had converged on their brother’s body. They held out cellphones for a few clear shots until an Israeli police unit arrived and pointed tricked out assault rifles at us.

God only knows why some people dive into the jaws of death like it’s good for them.

Continue reading

Now International Women’s Day Is A Joke Across The World

On March 8 disgruntled women in 30 countries abandoned their jobs, homes, and children. They gathered in various city centers, leaving the rest of the world in peace. For one whole day, men were able to crack sexist jokes without looking over their shoulders.

According to the website for International Women’s Strike USA, the mass walk-out aimed to be “the beginning of a new international feminist movement that organizes resistance not just against Trump and his misogynist policies, but also against the conditions that produced Trump.” The organizers seemed oblivious to the fact that hostile, meddlesome, and radically anti-male feminists are one of the polarizing conditions that drove millions of eye-rolling American voters—including 53 percent of white women—into the groping arms of the Orange One.

Full article at The Federalist

Study finds sadomasochism evokes spiritual experiences

Leather Black Fraternity Paddle in man's hand

Religious devotees endure torturous scenarios for the warm embrace of human connection. Some kneel and stand repeatedly to please their priest and fellow congregants. Others fast and chant for days on end to fulfill their guru’s program of enlightenment. At the extreme edge of the ritual spectrum, aspirants turn to self-flagellation, scarification, and even ultra-violent Philippine reenactments of the crucifixion, with real nails and the scars to prove it. It’s along these gruesome lines that the spirituality of BDSM (bondage-domination/discipline-submission/sadomasochism) emerges. A new study suggests that ritualized masochistic practices may induce an altered state of consciousness.

Full article at Science on Religion

What If the Races Were Reversed? They Were!

races-reversed-copy

John Howard, 18, Brittany Covington, 18, Tesfaye Cooper, 18, Jordan Hill, 18, Tanishia Covington, 24, Tanner Ward, 17 – “Hate crime” assailants come in all colors.

Last week, as if reenacting scenes from The Birth of a Nation, four black kids in Chicago kidnapped, bound, beat up, tortured, and repeatedly humiliated a mentally handicapped white kid for hours. These tech savvy super-bullies had the mind-blowing audacity to stream it online, including a jarring clip in which they forced the bewildered white kid to drink from the toilet. The video went viral alongside the spurious hashtag #BLMKidnapping, and within seconds every non-liberal white person in America was predictably screeching:

“Where are the hate crime charges? Where is the outrage?! The kid had special needs, for God’s sake! Huge double standard! Mainstream media bias! WHAT IF THE RACES WERE REVERSED?!”

Continue reading

12 Dystopias to Brighten Your Day

Everyone believes the world’s going to hell, but some dystopian soliloquies are better than others. The greatest doomsayers either make you want to immanentize the Eschaton or sit back and watch the world burn to a cinder.

As time marches on, it appears that the Last Days are never-ending. Great! Let’s indulge our nightmares, and hope they go on forever.

1. Rant in E-Minor, “The Elite,” 1997 – Bill Hicks explains how incoming presidents are briefed.

2. Network, 1976 – Howard Beale is mad as hell and he’s not going to take it anymore. Continue reading

Three Sermons from the Saints of Psychosis

brondecharv-copy

If Paul Harvey were the Devil, he’d sound like Dr. Bronner and Francis E. Dec reading soap bottles to each other in a steaming shower. He’d convince you that hate is in the water we drink and fear in the air that we breathe. He’d have you clawing your eyes out to escape the myth machine. He’d drive you out of your goddamn mind like it was the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.

Back in the revolutionary 60s, while Harvey urged America to go back to black-and-white dreams, Bronner and Dec shook themselves awake and turned on to space cadet gnosis. Their sermons, recorded and preserved on the sacred web, will scrub your filthy mind with altruistic universalism and then shove your squeaky clean soul into the prison cell of bitter ego.

In this era of pure lunacy, let us return to our psychotic prophets.

Full article at disinformation

Thirteen Songs for the Final Election

The presidency will either go to The Maniac or The Machine. If your side wins, I’m fucked. If my side wins, you’re fucked. Maybe the problem isn’t you or me. Maybe the problem is a centralized government with the capacity to fuck the opposition.

But that’s all politics, and who wants to talk politics on Election Day? The most important thing is that we have tunes to hum as the ship goes down.

Continue reading