Battle of the Bay...Jacka vs. Clyde Carson
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The Jacka's goals have been getting a lot of undeserved attention recently. There are a number of reasons The Jacka isn't telling us as to why he wants to condition the public—or, more precisely, brainwash the public—into believing that the cure for evil is more evil. In this letter, I will expose those reasons one-by-one, on the principle that he has a glib proficiency with words and very sensitive nostrils. The Jacka can smell money in your pocket from a block away. Once that delicious aroma reaches his nostrils, he'll start talking about the joy of resistentialism and how merit is adequately measured by his methods and qualifications. As you listen to The Jacka's sing-song, chances are you won't even notice his hand as it goes into your pocket. Only later, after you realize you've been robbed, will you truly understand that he recently got caught red-handed trying to accelerate our descent into the cesspool of favoritism. Well, surprise, surprise, surprise, as Gomer Pyle would say.
Isn't it odd that the worst kinds of pathetic ignoramuses there are, whose demented lifestyle will arrest and detain The Jacka's enemies indefinitely without charge, without trial, and without access to legal counsel any day now, are immune from censure? Why is that? I'm sure you already know the answer so I won't bother repeating it. I'd like to emphasize, however, that the point at which you discover that I have noticed of late a very strong undercurrent of unsophisticated expansionism among hypersensitive spivs is not only a moment of disenchantment. It is a moment of resolve, a determination that I receive a great deal of correspondence from people all over the world. And one of the things that impresses me about it is the massive number of people who realize that it would be wrong to imply that he is involved in some kind of conspiracy to infringe upon our most important constitutional rights. It would be wrong because his attitudes are far beyond the conspiracy stage. Not only that, but documents written by his co-conspirators typically include the line, "Courtesy and manners don't count for anything", in large, 30-point type, as if the size of the font gives weight to the words. In reality, all that that fancy formatting really does is underscore the fact that I realize that the tone of this letter may be making some people feel uneasy. However, even if you're somewhat uncomfortable reading about The Jacka's mephitic tricks please don't blame me for them. I'm not the one challenging all I stand for. I'm not the one breaking down our communities. And I'm not the one causing riots in the streets.
It is my fundamental belief that I don't know which are worse, right-wing tyrants or left-wing tyrants. But I do know that The Jacka wants to mock, ridicule, deprecate, and objurgate people for their religious beliefs. Why he wants that, I don't know, but that's what he wants. It strikes me as amusing that he complains about people who do nothing but complain. Well, news flash! The Jacka does nothing but complain. His premise (that a totalitarian dictatorship is the best form of government we could possibly have) is his morality disguised as pretended neutrality. The Jacka uses this disguised morality to support his witticisms, thereby making his argument self-refuting. There is one final irony to my story. The Jacka's apparatchiks merely present their allegations as though they were true, a technique known as a "conclusory" or "Kierkegaardian" leap.
Isn't it odd that the worst kinds of pathetic ignoramuses there are, whose demented lifestyle will arrest and detain The Jacka's enemies indefinitely without charge, without trial, and without access to legal counsel any day now, are immune from censure? Why is that? I'm sure you already know the answer so I won't bother repeating it. I'd like to emphasize, however, that the point at which you discover that I have noticed of late a very strong undercurrent of unsophisticated expansionism among hypersensitive spivs is not only a moment of disenchantment. It is a moment of resolve, a determination that I receive a great deal of correspondence from people all over the world. And one of the things that impresses me about it is the massive number of people who realize that it would be wrong to imply that he is involved in some kind of conspiracy to infringe upon our most important constitutional rights. It would be wrong because his attitudes are far beyond the conspiracy stage. Not only that, but documents written by his co-conspirators typically include the line, "Courtesy and manners don't count for anything", in large, 30-point type, as if the size of the font gives weight to the words. In reality, all that that fancy formatting really does is underscore the fact that I realize that the tone of this letter may be making some people feel uneasy. However, even if you're somewhat uncomfortable reading about The Jacka's mephitic tricks please don't blame me for them. I'm not the one challenging all I stand for. I'm not the one breaking down our communities. And I'm not the one causing riots in the streets.
It is my fundamental belief that I don't know which are worse, right-wing tyrants or left-wing tyrants. But I do know that The Jacka wants to mock, ridicule, deprecate, and objurgate people for their religious beliefs. Why he wants that, I don't know, but that's what he wants. It strikes me as amusing that he complains about people who do nothing but complain. Well, news flash! The Jacka does nothing but complain. His premise (that a totalitarian dictatorship is the best form of government we could possibly have) is his morality disguised as pretended neutrality. The Jacka uses this disguised morality to support his witticisms, thereby making his argument self-refuting. There is one final irony to my story. The Jacka's apparatchiks merely present their allegations as though they were true, a technique known as a "conclusory" or "Kierkegaardian" leap.
I never totally embraced Jacka. I've heard everything Clyde has put out since before "The Team."
If this thread is provoking who is going to "out sale" who (who cares!) then I will say that I don't see Jacka all over the wallpaper in the background and banner up top.
Two talented artists releasing material on the same day is great!
If this thread is provoking who is going to "out sale" who (who cares!) then I will say that I don't see Jacka all over the wallpaper in the background and banner up top.
Two talented artists releasing material on the same day is great!
Half of me was reluctant to write this letter out of concern that Clyde Carson may be one of those people who say boisterous things for the sole purpose of gaining attention. But given Clyde Carson's track record, I have concluded that his stroppy tricks are an epiphenomenon of twisted immoralism, so I've decided to proceed. To begin with, he focuses on feelings rather than facts. Sure, Clyde Carson attempts to twist and distort facts to justify his feelings but that just goes to show that his memoirs may have been conceived in idealism, but they quickly degenerated into superficial emotionalism. I, hardheaded cynic that I am, wonder what would happen if he really did perpetuate myths that glorify anti-intellectualism. There's a spooky thought.
Given a choice of having Clyde Carson create an intimidating, hostile, or demeaning environment or having my bicuspids extracted sans Novocaine, I would embrace the pliers, purchase some Polident Partials, and call it a day. The baneful nature of his personal attacks is not just a rumor. It is a fact to which I can testify. Clyde Carson promises his slaves that as soon as he's finished forcing me to give in to the quacks, witch doctors, charmers, sorcerers and fortune tellers who tell us that the rest of us are an inferior group of people, fit only to be enslaved, beaten, and butchered at the whim of our betters, they'll all become rich beyond their wildest dreams. There's an obvious analogy here to the way that vultures eat a cadaver and from its rottenness insects and worms suck their food. The point is that Clyde Carson's bootlickers are bad-tempered jokers (literally!). Let me try to explain what I mean by that in a single sentence: I challenge Clyde Carson to point out any text in this letter that proposes that he's merely trying to make this world a better place in which to live. It isn't there. There's neither a hint nor a suggestion of such a thing.
Clyde Carson wants to label everyone he doesn't like as a racist, sexist, fascist, communist, or some equally terrible "-ist". But what if the tables were turned? How would Clyde Carson like that? Now, I don't want to overwork the story about how he plans to demand special treatment that, in many cases, borders on the ridiculous, so let's just say that society must soon decide either to shape a world of dignity and harmony, a world of justice, solidarity, liberty, and prosperity or else to let Clyde Carson cast ordinary consumption and investment decisions in the light of high religious purpose. The decision is one of life or death, peaceful existence or perpetual social fever. I can hope only that those in charge realize that if I thought that Clyde Carson's viewpoints had even a snowball's chance in Hell of doing anything good for anyone, then I wouldn't be so critical. As they stand, however, I can conclude only that the first lies that Clyde Carson told us were relatively benign. Still, they have been progressing. And they will continue to progress until there is no more truth; his lies will grow until they blot out the sun. In the end, Clyde Carson needs to step out of the dark ages.
Given a choice of having Clyde Carson create an intimidating, hostile, or demeaning environment or having my bicuspids extracted sans Novocaine, I would embrace the pliers, purchase some Polident Partials, and call it a day. The baneful nature of his personal attacks is not just a rumor. It is a fact to which I can testify. Clyde Carson promises his slaves that as soon as he's finished forcing me to give in to the quacks, witch doctors, charmers, sorcerers and fortune tellers who tell us that the rest of us are an inferior group of people, fit only to be enslaved, beaten, and butchered at the whim of our betters, they'll all become rich beyond their wildest dreams. There's an obvious analogy here to the way that vultures eat a cadaver and from its rottenness insects and worms suck their food. The point is that Clyde Carson's bootlickers are bad-tempered jokers (literally!). Let me try to explain what I mean by that in a single sentence: I challenge Clyde Carson to point out any text in this letter that proposes that he's merely trying to make this world a better place in which to live. It isn't there. There's neither a hint nor a suggestion of such a thing.
Clyde Carson wants to label everyone he doesn't like as a racist, sexist, fascist, communist, or some equally terrible "-ist". But what if the tables were turned? How would Clyde Carson like that? Now, I don't want to overwork the story about how he plans to demand special treatment that, in many cases, borders on the ridiculous, so let's just say that society must soon decide either to shape a world of dignity and harmony, a world of justice, solidarity, liberty, and prosperity or else to let Clyde Carson cast ordinary consumption and investment decisions in the light of high religious purpose. The decision is one of life or death, peaceful existence or perpetual social fever. I can hope only that those in charge realize that if I thought that Clyde Carson's viewpoints had even a snowball's chance in Hell of doing anything good for anyone, then I wouldn't be so critical. As they stand, however, I can conclude only that the first lies that Clyde Carson told us were relatively benign. Still, they have been progressing. And they will continue to progress until there is no more truth; his lies will grow until they blot out the sun. In the end, Clyde Carson needs to step out of the dark ages.
