Friday, January 30, 2004

Talking on the phone to Beav tonight about how in school we never learned about money. Never learned about taxes. Never learned about insurance. Never learned about how to buy a car. Never learned about credit cards. Or interest. Or equity. Or how to buy a home. Or how to run a business. Or how to get a loan. They just send you out there knowing nothing. You spend the first ten years of your life totally ignorant on how to accomplish the most basics of being a citizen and getting dicked over by everyone learning all these lessons the hard way. What the hell did we learn in school?

Schwarzenegger's $4 million loans ruled illegal
01/27/04 05:02 AM, EST
Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger broke a state law during the closing weeks of the recall race when he took out $4.5 million in bank loans to help his cash-starved campaign, according to a preliminary ruling from a superior court judge.



The above story posted here just to prove a point. A thousand dollars says we never hear much more about it. That it just mysteriously goes away... it is the nature of the country we live in and the times we live in. You steal forty dollars, you're going to jail. You steal millions, or commit some really big serious crimes (think white water, Iran-contra, WMD, Enron, etc...) and one way or another you can find a way to buy your way out of it, or get it to disappear. I guess that if you are rich that's a good thing, but if you’re just one of the people, it doesn’t seem too fair... normally you read a statement like this from someone and it just sounds like the whining of some probably poor disgruntled Middle American... one of those jealous of everyone types or bored conspiracy types. Except for the fact that its been happening more and more and more all over our country the last few years. Some of it makes it to the mainstream news. a lot of it doesn’t. but even after it is revealed, most of it seems to just sort of vanish. Replaced instead by some inane who kissed who and who is marrying who filler and pseudo-news... 
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Tonight I had dinner with Chester Oglethorpe III. The Chester Oglethorpe III. The one and only. Owner of one of the largest retail outlets and manufacturing companies in America. Better known as Chess to millions of people around the world. No need to go into the hundreds of millions of dollars he is worth, his reputation as one of the shrewdest business men in America today, and the fanciful dinner parties he and his wife of twenty-three years are famous for throwing through the year. by now it is legend. Tonight we had a dinner party of our own. A celebration of sorts. What is not widely known are the tens of thousands of men women and children who work for him in slave labor camp conditions in many little villages in various far-eastern countries, and the hundreds of people who have died in these little sweat shops over the years.


Mr. Oglethorpe was more than willing to partake in my little dinner game. He had just watched me kill his wife in the foyer as I entered their home on Sunset Island in Miami Beach. I shot her six times, just as I had learned in TAC training courses many years ago. Stomach stomach chest chest head head. She was so aghast, so horrified by my sudden appearance at their front door in my blue mask that she didn't even attempt to run. She just stood there frozen and let me shoot her. Her body was a mass of blood on the floor before I even made it to the dining room to entertain the quivering sobbing babbling executive.

I thought of tying him to the chair. But I didn't have to. He eagerly followed my every command. He appeared to be in shock. I sat him in his chair at the head of their enormous glass dining room table. “Have some wine Chess. It will make this easier on you. I'm sure of it.” “What are you going to do to me? Why are you here? he stuttered... My wife..... You killed my wife... you animal! Aggie?!” he called out to her. Yes he was definitely in shock. Aggie was long gone by now. “I don't think she can hear you. In fact I'm sure of it. And so are you. Now please. Drink some wine.” He took the glass in his right hand. He must be right handed. Shaking like a leaf. He guzzled the glass of wine in a second or two.

“Good. Now lets try some of the lasagna that I made. I made it just for you sir. You know that? I came all the way over here just for you. To bring you this delicious homemade lasagna and you haven't even touched it. tsk tsk. I have always known that money did not make manners. And you sir unfortunately are proving the old adage true as a bell. Now please eat. If you eat a bit, I will pour you another glass of that delicious wine. I took a sip of the wine myself. It was delicious. “My God that is good wine. Chess, you don't mind if I call you chess do you? Can I ask you how much a bottle of wine like that costs?”

Unfortunately he did not answer me. “Fuck off!” he attempts to blurt out. “You’re telling me to fuck off? Unbelievable manners you are displaying. Are all your dinner parties this tense Chess? Do you treat all of your guests this rudely? I ask you a simple question about your table wine and you tell me to fuck off?! That's your answer?! O.k. fine. So that's how you want to play it? great. Fucking great. I thought perhaps that we would have a chance at some stimulating dinner conversation, you know, man to man, before I killed you. but I can see that you are not up for it. so here's the deal. You eat now or I shoot you. Eat the fucking lasagna Chess. Now!” I yelled.

“Why don't you just shoot me then goddamn it?!” he yelled back. The man’s got some spunk after all. “Very well then. I will.” I shot him from across the table. Right in the left shoulder. He screamed. And grabbed his shoulder with his right hand. Blood poured. He moaned in agony. “Now please, Chess eat. I didn't go to all this trouble just to shoot you. I want you to try the special dish I prepared for you. I think you’ll find it absolutely irresistible... Like many of the fine shoes your company puts out every year to the adoring masses. You know, I never actually bought any of your shoes. You know that? I never saw what all the fuss was about. Oh well. Perhaps tomorrow I will purchase a pair. See what all the hubbub is all about.” He sobbed quietly.

He began to eat the lasagna. A small bite at first. I could not help but smile. I could hear him crunching. “How do you like it?” I smiled. “Very special ingredients in there. Made especially for you Chess...”  I had covered the entire third layer with very small broken shards of glass. Just hundreds and hundreds of pieces of broken glass. I had fantasized about this moment for years. I watched as blood began to pour from both sides of his mouth. “Delicious isn't it?” he chewed slowly. “Now be a good boy and swallow Chess.” He attempted to swallow. He choked and gagged. And blood shot out of his mouth all over the table.

“Are you a religious man Chess?” I asked. “We are a catholic....” he stuttered with his mouth still almost full. “No Chess. Only you are catholic. Your wife is dead. She is lying in a pool of blood in that absolutely beautiful entrance way of yours. I shot her myself. “You are an animal!” he screamed at me almost incoherently. “Perhaps I am. Yes indeed perhaps we all are. Do you go to mass Mr. Oglethorpe?” “Yes.” He stammered. “I used to have to go to mass when I was a kid. Nothing like a good catholic mass to get people to stop believing in God huh?” I commented. He did not laugh at my joke. Instead he just continued to sob and whimper like a baby and attempt to chew the special dish I had prepared for him.

“Chess? Can I ask you? Do you know this song by Midnight Oil? White Skin Black Heart? he shook his head no... He was going to lose it soon. I could tell. He wasn't up for these kind of dinner parties. “I wouldn’t think you would know it. you probably are of the age now where you listen to mostly classical music right? Makes you feel better somehow... calms you down... for all the innocent lives that have been lost in order to purchase this beautiful home of yours. But its an amazing song. Truly. I wanted to play it for you tonight actually. I looked for it for several hours but couldn’t find it. Its about men like you. Men who have all the money in the world, but they don't do anything good with their money. That’s the problem isn't it? I mean that's the real problem that we have here. In fact men like you do their best to make their money and use their money to take advantage of every disadvantaged person they can. For their own selfish motives....” I paused. Looked down at the table... “Anyway. I am digressing. And you are obviously worn out already from all of the fun we are having here tonight. I did bring this though.” I held up the CD. “Its I will survive. The Cake version. Do you know it? its delicious. Let me play it for you. I think it will make perfect dining music. Especially with this lasagna. Can I ask you where the stereo is for this room. I bet you have speakers installed in every room in the house,” I commented as I walked into the living room. “Yes?” I found his stereo and popped in the CD.

song here

“Look. I don't know what you want.... do you want money?! is that what your after?” he somehow managed to take the food out of his mouth and he was attempting to bargain with me. impressive... “Let me live. I will give you as much money as you want. He went to get up from his chair. “You mother fucker. Sit the fuck down Chester! I yelled angrily. “Goddamnit. I do not want you to die like this. I do not want to just shoot you from across the room. I did not come all the way over here for that. Now please just sit the fuck down!” I slammed the gun down on the table. He sat down. “You think I want your money? You think that's why I just shot your poor miserable blind-eye dinner party throwing bitch of a wife in cold blood? So I could rob you? Because I need money?! God you are a worthless piece of shit. You know that? You know that right? No Chess, its not me who needs your money. I have plenty of money. Although after I purchase those fancy shoes of yours tomorrow, who knows, right? I hear you make some pretty expensive shoes? I hear some of your shoes can cost upwards of something like $2000 a pair. Is that right?” “People will pay for quality.” He answered me. “They know what they like...” he mumbled. “But some people will pay for quality and others will not. Is that it? Like all those people you hire across the great sea... You don't mind not paying them for their quality do you? you don't mind their sixteen hour days at gun point? Do you?! you fuck! Now eat Chester. Eat your fucking lasagna!” He took another bite...

“You see, I am going to take all of your money. I am going to take everything I can from you right after I kill you. But it isn't for me. I don't need any new shoes. You see? I pointed the gun to my shoes. “But there are a lot of people that do need that money. And by now you should be thanking me Chess, because I am going to distribute your money as best as I can to all those needy people... I'm going to do that for you. and you should be thanking me instead of cursing me.” he chewed and I watched. More and more blood poured from his mouth.

I walked over to him. Slowly. With the gun pointed right at his head. He was pale as ghost. I kneeled down behind him. “Chess do you know why I'm here now?” I whispered in his right ear. “Do you understand why we are having this dinner party?” he could not speak very well. Probably from the glass. His mouth was bleeding profusely from chewing on all the glass. Just choking up blood at this point. “

I whispered in his ear.... “Can you tell me Chess? Can you tell me how many men women and children have died in your factories over the years? Do you even know?” 

“You son of a bitch!” he barely managed to choke out. “Who are you?!” “I sir? Who am I? I am the Blue Mask.” I whispered in his ear. And I have come here to save you. to save you from yourself. I have come here to seek revenge for all the innocent victims who have suffered at your hands. For your profit. And for the profit of all of your shareholders.” I bent my head down towards the ground and noticed a pool blood forming under his chair... and then in a quick burst and without hesitation I thrust his own table knife into his throat. Blood sprayed out in a thin red stream. Straight out onto the white linen table cloth. “Chess look at all that blood!” I yelled over his gurgling. He was trying to grab at his throat. But the blood was too much for him... “God it isn't like the movies at all is it?” I asked him. “Would you look at all that blood?!” He grabbed at his throat more. He gagged. And choked. I took the knife and jabbed it into the back of his neck. His back arched and his head went back. Not a lot of blood there. not as much as one would hope for. I then stabbed him in the back several times while his body convulsed. “Mother fucker!” I yelled. I then took the gun and shot him in the back of the head four maybe five times until there was a huge gaping hole big enough for me to see his brains oozing out... I had never seen this before in real life, but had always fantasized about it. His whole body just collapsed. His face fell right into the lasagna. Blood splattered everywhere. It was by all accounts an ecstatic experience the likes of which I have never encountered. I stared at him lying there in a plate of lasagna, blood everywhere, his brains oozing out of his skull. “We! Must! Do this! Again!” I yelled to him. Although he did not hear me. I am sure of it. Chester Oglethorpe was more than dead. 

For a moment just as I was leaving the house I glanced in the wall length mirror in the foyer. Blood covered the Blue Mask. Do I look? Will I look any better now? What’s it been? A few days? A few weeks? I cannot ruin a perfectly good evening. I will not look. I wiped the blood from the mask. Slowly and methodically. And then I left. I do not know what time it was when I left the Oglethorpe home.

Fishy has no idea who he is. he thinks he is a singer and a writer. He tells himself that he is working on his newest novel, the disturbing and majestic Blue Mask. Little does he know... He complains that he doesn’t sleep. He thinks he is in some kind of time warp. Huge chunks of his time unaccounted for... 

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