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Showing posts with label 9-11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 9-11. Show all posts

18 March 2012

Like Irish car bombs? Try a 9-11 suicide high-jacker


In honor of the fathead who named the Irish car bomb, the Confederated Mixologists of America (coma.us.biz) announced today the newest drink to make light of a murderous reality. Just as the Irish car bomb ridicules the lives lost during the Troubles, this new drink ridicules the lives snuffed out on that sunny day in 2001. Entered in the books officially as the 9-11 suicide high-jacker, this liquid drug mixture requires of its user no personal sacrifice of any kind, nor does it reward her with even the semblance of dignity.

To make a 9-11 suicide high-jacker, mix two parts cinnamon fireball whiskey with one part baby's tears, and throw in a pinch of concrete dust. Hurl the mixture from the shattered window of a one-hundred-and-ten story building, and garnish with a battered box-cutter. Enjoy!

場黑麥 ioanni elymucampus fecit

12 September 2011

on nine eleven



  On this day we mark a decade since the events surrounding the 11th of September, 2001. Many changes have taken place in our nation since that bright summer day, some that restrict us in our liberty, others that inconvenience to little noticeable advantage. Absent clear and defining purpose, we have foundered collectively among the shoals of short-sightedness and greed, bruised badly by the false promise of unlimited consumer credit, our public figures beating the drums of nationalism and xenophobia in tones ever more vituperative and religious, the cultural diversity of our peoples muted by creeping corporate homogenization, our inventiveness forgotten in the face of gadgets that rarely prove convenient to the economics of time, our artistic creativity lost in the mirror-maze of sequels, mash-ups, and gimmickry, our citizens willfully abusing the national flag in misguided attempts to prove to others their patriotism, that deep and pure sense of pride that shines most brightly when it is cultivated within the confines of the heart, a sense that shrinks when displayed too prominently.
  I was in Manhattan that day; I volunteered three days later in the dust and wreckage blanketing the North Cove; I lost a fraternity brother who had just started work high up in the North Tower. But, then as now, I will never succumb to fear, never believe in America-über-alles, never discriminate against someone because of their choice of religion, never accept torture as a means necessary to the common defense, never disgrace the Stars and Stripes to prove to another my love for country, and never cease in my attempts to secure the Blessings of Liberty to myself, my brothers and sisters, and our Posterity.
  My the people who died on that September day not so long ago continue to rest in peace.


Ultima Ratio Regum - 場黑麥 John Paul Roggenkamp