Death to America

AUKUS just got awkies

“Your heart's desire is to be told some mystery. The mystery is that there is no mystery.” – Judge Holden, Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy, 1985

“I tell you what, I had a good life before I did this. Nobody was shooting at me…I had a hell of a life. Oh, those locations…I could’ve been sunbathing on the beach. You have never seen a body so beautiful.” – Donald Trump, 2024

Donald Trump is right: America sucks. Being American sucks. America can’t stop sucking. This is the centrifugal animus of Trumpism — the man, the politics, the President — and it has worked again and again because it is fundamentally true. Americans live like dogs. Any visitor who has spent even a little time in the Greatest Nation on Earth soon realises it is little more than an impoverished failed state with expensive hobbies and a raging hard-on for killing and slavery. It’s an untenable place — an untenable project — for anyone but grifters and an ever-dwindling chosen few. The rest, the ‘average’ Americans, know in their heart of hearts that it sucks, for to be an ‘average’ American is to suffer, and baby, suffering blows. 

Who’d vote for it?

“He never sleeps, the judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die.”

No one has deserved to lose an election more than Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party. These people ran a campaign so disengaged from the reality of America’s core awfulness that they might as well have been running for Mayor of Neopia. Harris’s coterie of dead-eyed ghouls and blood-fanged consiglieres offered the electorate nothing but shrugs and carnage — a continuation of the drooly-mouthed, denture rattling, dicktripping of the Biden years, years which felt, and probably are, eternal.

A slapdash farce from start (nominating Biden in 2020 was an obvious mistake of colossal proportions) to finish (touring with the death-mask scion of America’s most loathed war criminal), Harris’s campaign was a cul-de-sac of consultant-crony glibness and neo-liberal unrealism: a stuttering display of what an Ivy League education and recreational ketamine abuse can do to one’s soul and imagination in a time when both are sorely needed to get the job done.

“Please donate to our death spiral” was the sole clear messaging.

ya blew it!

Trump didn’t have to do much of anything this time around. He spent the last weeks of the campaign handing out Freedom Fries and swaying to Ave Maria like a dying zoo elephant, complaining about each shithole he was forced to show face at, rambling on about Hannibal Lecter, and bemoaning his bad luck for being the perfect avatar of the American soul — The Most American man/thing/dybbuk to ever exist.

This doddering, diddling, thick-shake chugging pederast is about as suave and savvy as any one of the cretinous knuckle-draggers he surrounds himself with, and yet his blatant brain damage still puts him two steps ahead of his opponents, who seem to get off on being the eternal Elmer Fudds to his ‘Big Chungus’ Bugs Bunny. To grasp Trump for what he is — a slur that would get me booted off here and elsewhere if I typed it out plainly — would cause an immediate implosion of the liberal elite’s sense of self, and more importantly (to them), sense of self worth, triggering a cosmic reckoning that would have the offices of NBC and the Centre for American Progress looking like Jonestown before the Kool-Aid man can burst in and shout ‘oh yeahhhh!’

Trump is what you get when you offer nothing to no one. Trump is what you get when you, your staff, and the press pack that follow you everywhere have not done their own grocery shopping in over ten years. Trump is what you get when you go hunting for Moby Dick armed with nothing but self-certainty and focus groups. Trump is what you get when you suck.

A week into her campaign, Harris abandoned any policy that may appeal to any American living in America who isn’t Mark Cuban or a former Reagan staffer. There was next to no talk of universal healthcare, student loan forgiveness, or any of the slight shifts towards progressive reform that Biden and the Dems conceded in the wake of the success of Bernie and co. in 2020. Harris went quiet, quickly, on just about anything tangible and urgent, letting the cost of living crisis, untethered inflation, rocketing homelessness etc hang around her neck like a dollar store albatross, stinking up every room she entered to brown-nose donors in.

Instead of pinning any of this wreckage on Trump, they gave him a long leash to bumble about on stages across America, smirking and riffing like a Borscht Belt hack with one joke — “boy, this sucks, doesn’t it?” — told over and over again, yuking it up with voters who just had to look at their bank accounts to know he was right.

The only thing you can really say that Kamala Harris guaranteed — the only sure thing about her, Biden, and the Dems et al. — was a promise to keep on perpetuating the holocaust in Gaza. This is her and Biden’s legacy at the end of the day, an act of depravity so grave, egregious, and protracted that it is now bordering on unimaginable, despite its uncountable horrors being beamed at us through our phones 24/7 for over a year. They gave everything to Netanyahu, who was only ever going to get more if Harris won. With Trump, there may be some suspiciously golden beachfront hotels popping up on the Gaza strip sometime in the near future, but the stone cold reality is that Biden, Harris, and the Democratic Party gave Bibi and Israel their licence to kill and the means to do it, and were happy to keep on doing so if it guaranteed keeping their toehold on power. In fact, it is now clear they were happy to keep on doing so even if it meant losing power, which should make every supporter of theirs feel culpable and nauseated in equal measure.

May Harris’s sickening rallying cry, “I’m speaking,” be the epitaph of someone who has to shut the fuck up forever.

Genesis does what Nintendon’t (lose the popular vote)

But what does Trump’s win mean for Australia, America’s loyal cuck? We are The Kid to their Judge, afterall, and we will ride their tidal wave of murder and barbarity to the beaches of both our and the world’s destruction giddily and gladly if it means a head pat and a seat at the table with Da Big Dawg.

AUKUS is and always has been a clumsy con maintained by the world’s laziest standover man, the American Empire operating like Tony Soprano on benzos, half collapsed in the shower while smothering its closest comrades to death between flings. Our subservience is baked into our DNA, the idea of not suckholing up to one global superpower or another is simply anathema for Australia’s managerial Government/Media lickspittles, who fear independence about as much as they fear sleeping in bed next to their wives. So it is that we find ourselves in the world’s longest and saddest game of make believe, bleeding for a power that will never protect us, and paying through the nose for submarines that will not come. 

It would be deeply tragic if not for the fact that Australia also sucks, and, like America, is also long overdue for a brutal karmic reckoning…

…but so it goes!

This is the state of things. America has been bleeding out like a stuck pig for the better part of forty years. It’s time someone picked up the pillow and smothered it to death. Its inevitable ungodly collapse will blow a chunk out of the world and no doubt take most of life itself with it, but once we pluck the globe from its death-grip we might just be able to carve out a future that’s survivable and hopeful. Trump, The Most American, is a bouncy-castle mausoleum that will unfurl over the vestiges of the American Empire and dissolve it like The Blob, if we are lucky. In the meantime, it’s time to unionise, organise, and prioritise action over inaction, apathy, and (for Australia, anyway) alliances. Trump was an inevitability, as is his next iteration if we keep carrying on as is.

There is no mystery, now get to work. 

(this has brought me so much joy for years now, go in peace xox)