ꜛƸ⬍ᛦ\_₳˙☐˙☐˙₳_/ᛦ⬍Ʒꜛ

shining Sol his face a gleaming burning disc bore mighty witness to our wobbly plastic flight-paths

this soon lessen

Far the rhythm of her gaze that pierces through the gathered haze
Of gross injustice done to they who have no place to rest or play
Bright her torch of golden light that shreds such gloom as harshly bites
Upon the heels of Liberty as she protects her huddled seas of
Lowly and downtrodden wenches lost in economic trenches
Whose short lives made shorter still by rich men taking mighty swills
From wealth that’s made by each and all men and women bending tall
Against the weight of harsh oppression
Liberty please this soon lessen.

JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

Grigovian vagabond song

Oh for the high banks of the Yalung river
That place for which I yearn with a small part of my heart
Where the soils are host and giver to the teeming multitudes
Such a song my heart exudes in honor of the deep and fertile
Plains of our flash founder Old man Grig who settled valleys
Where bright blooms and soft winds mix
Forming for each weary passer tiny bosoms where to rest
From the sight of beast and stranger
There on the high banks of the Yalung river
A small glen with mountain view will for tonight surely do

JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on privatized police

In his book Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson writes about a world in which the territory of the former United States of America is run by [!!!spoiler alert!!!] multinational corporations that have their own armies and police forces. The federal government owns only a few parcels of land, their main hub being a property near the 405 freeway in Westwood, California.

Are we as a nation heading in that very direction? Does the rise of private contractor armies in the wake of America’s (illegal and disastrous) misadventures in Iraq and Afghanistan bode well for the Ynki experiment? With plans to federalize the current police forces already nearing completion, is it a far grasp to imagine that after federalization these pillars of putatively civilized society might be privatized? Other elements of the once publically-owned criminal injustice system such as prisons, bail bonding, and parole services are already in private hands. Why not privatize those bodies that are currently doing a piss-poor job of protecting and upholding the parameters of the U.S. Constitution? American police today are not beholden to the opinions or rights of the citizens they were designed to protect; they work by rules of their own design, granting themselves the power to kill and imprison without fear of retribution or, failing that, even hints of criticism.

Perhaps if the police forces were privatized, their shareholders would be able to force them into abiding by the guidelines of due process, restraint, and respect for life that were long ago codified in the U.S. Constitution. Should a citizen be treated unfairly by a privatized police force, he could convince his neighbors to divest from that force’s stock portfolio or attend a shareholder meeting to voice his concerns. Today, however, anyone who dares to speak out against police brutality and intimidation - in a borough or community meeting, for example - will be ostracized and labelled as a pariah. Likely, his efforts will be met with further retribution, additional intimidation, stalking, veiled threats, loss of liberty, targeted ticketing, and more. The privatization of America’s police forces is all but inevitable; if done correctly, it might just serve the People well; if done incorrectly, however, it will bring this nation’s already wobbly house of cards crashing down. Sic semper tyrannis.

JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

Caribbean cabinet complains

Representatives of a filing cabinet today filed an official complaint against the United Nations, claiming their client has been unfairly targeted. Sitting in a decrepit office building located in the capital city of a small island nation in the eastern Caribbean, the filing cabinet contains the paperwork of various multinational corporations such as Multinational Back Gold Limited (MBGL), which owns 60% of all petroleum-producing rigs worldwide, as well as top political and business representatives of major Western powers. “The persons we stand for enjoy positions of great power; they must be allowed to hide their monetary earnings however and wherever they see fit,” said Ghadesh Rimn’alawan (esq.) of Mimir Partners LLC, the team of attorneys that manages the filing cabinet. “United Nations findings that criticize or otherwise bring to light the illicit offshore tax avoidance schemes that our clients engage in [through us] are damaging to the fabric of trust and transparency that underpins occidental economies.” Between 7 and 25 trillion dollars are hidden from tax authorities by unscrupulous businesspersons who benefit from the redistribution of wealth from the working classes to their entitled overlords.

In a tweeted statement, a group of American businessmen with ties to the filing cabinet voiced their concern. “We rich few need yachts and vacation estates more than the poor many need hospitals, roads, or schools,” said Sayied alHammour, owner of the Rust Best Roughnecks, an American professional sports team. Selected by his co-conspirators to put a positive spin on the potentially damaging findings, alHammour stated that “job-creating entities should not share the wealth generated by the persons [at the bottom] who actually work to create that wealth. Rather, such entities are entitled to keep all of those profits - in offshore holdings, if need be.”

“We suspect that many of the individuals and organizations named in the Panama Papers have a skewed view of the social contract,” said Thorrir Thamlundsson, a Norwegian U.N. Independent Expert on foreign debt and expert on offshore tax shelters. “So long as the citizens of the affected nations allow these criminal acts to continue unchallenged, these injustices will continue.”

JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

⌒*.☐ЇⰔ⏣🝱⏣ⰔЇ☐.*⌒

after a cold walk we did sit down to rest enjoying a rowdy Pineapple Express

freeloaders face music

Following a failed attempt to gut the Office of Congressional Ethics, Senate Republicans shifted their attentions elsewhere. Next up are the bloated salaries and outsized benefits packages enjoyed by all members of America’s legislative bodies. “We entered civil service not for riches but for power,” said a Republican senator leading the charge whose name was withheld upon his request. “Therefore, my colleagues and I will take the steps necessary to pay all legislators the minimum wage of their respective state. In addition, we will get rid of wasteful taxpayer spending on generous benefits packages, transferring legislators to the MedicAid system.”

The proposed move caused consternation among members of both the House and Senate, with a number of Republican Congressmen offering clandestine challenges. “How are we supposed to live on the minimum wage?” said an elected official from America’s South who also asked us to withhold his name. “I’ve got a mansion to keep up and a couple of luxury cars to look after. How am I supposed to do this on $7.25 an hour?” The proposed changes will require legislators to clock in and out using an electronic punch-card system and wait their turn in line to see a doctor - just like a majority of Americans must do. Citizen watchdog groups have applauded the move, among them American Civil Liberties Union, Institute for Justice, and Taxpayers of Common Sense. “We view this as a necessary first step in reining in Washingtonian greed and forcing our elected officials to witness firsthand the harsh realities most underprivileged Ynki face,” said Rheinhold D. Julout-Graham, head of Project on Government Oversight. “It has long been our opinion that once members of the House and Senate understand the inadequacies of our current minimum wage standards, they will take the steps necessary to raise or abolish them.”

Although no timetable has been set for banishing the practice of moving from the public directly into the private sector commonly referred to as the revolving door system, watchdog groups remain hopeful that Americans will soon rest assured that their elected officials are actually working in the best interest of the People instead of just a corporate bottom line.

JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

storm clouds gather

Over the past weekend, an ungodly mass of black cumulonimbus started gathering above Washington, D.C. Arriving primarily from the South and Midwest, the floating harbingers of portend rumbled and shook, threatening to shatter the last vestiges of Ynki democracy. Their first casualty was the formerly independent Office of Congressional Ethics, a body that once served to reduce corruption in the Senate but that now lies stricken, and dying. Next, the ill winds aim to destroy the protections put in place by the Constitutional Emoluments Clause, allowing a narcissistic kleptocrat to assume the country’s highest post. After these crimes are committed, the swirling heaps of rotten air will ramp up their assault on America’s minority groups - among them persons homosexual, sick, and poor. Scientists studying the clouds indicate that only the dazzling of light of unbridled Truth might scare off these thunderheads, allowing Liberty and Justice to once again shine down on the struggling masses yearning here to be free.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑

NM legalizes drugs

Citing the successful test of drug legalization in Portugal as its guiding influence, the American state of New Mexico decriminalized all drug use and possession within its border. The Return to Freedom Act, or RFA (SB-04472.7.65), has been approved by both houses of the state’s legislature and should arrive on the governor’s desk shortly. “Our residents and visitors are sick of being harassed and imprisoned for exercising their Constitutional right to get blasted on any substance they choose so long as they are not infringing upon the Life, Liberty, or Property of another person,” said Hailyie Darmstadder, 49, deputy New Mexico governor and mother of two state police sergeants; “and our police forces desire to spend their time keeping their communities safe from violent crime rather than working as strongmen who exist primarily to enforce blanket prohibitions enacted by a tyrannical federal government.” Critics have condemned the passage of RFA, saying that the potential risks to children outweigh the benefits arising from the normalization of drug-using behavior. Margit Lopez-Westinghaus, head of the New Mexico chapter of Catholic Mothers for Safe Streets, was concern that “it will become easy for a child to walk into a pharmacy and buy a marijuana cigarette.” Thomaz H.N.E. Gutierrez Jr., a Republican legislator who helped write the bill’s final draft, confirmed that the new legislation will make recreational drugs available to legal adults only, much as are cigarettes or alcohol. “For many generations now, Americans have been able to walk into any of a thousand convenience stores across the Land of Enchantment and pick up as much booze and as many smokes as they could carry, and look at the damage that has wrought,” state congressman Gutierrez said. “My ancestors used marijuana in ceremonies as a method for becoming one with the Great Unknowable, whereas alcohol does little more than pollute the mind, and nicotine does little more than make people sick.” Police unions across the state are wary about RFA, with most of them saying they’ll miss the millions of dollars they receive from Washington for putting non-violent drug users behind bars. “The gravy train is over, I guess,” said Captain Youlisees Sharlto-Macks of the West Mesa City Police department. “On the other hand, prohibition of alcohol didn’t work in the 1920s - why the hell did we think it would work with other drugs?”

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

stewed thighs splatter

Following a violent encounter the evening before in which they were separated from an avian torso at knifepoint, a pair of turkey thighs hit a new low. When the plate they were resting in was jostled by an overweight sous chef walking past, the thighs fell three and a half feet down onto the grimy red tiles of the greasy spoon’s kitchen, below. Due to their meaty heft, the thighs hit with such force that they threw up twin plumes of gravy, some of which entered a nearby storage cabinet, soiling the clean plates stacked therein. “Ah man, would you look at that,” said Thomassina Morninggale, a nearby diner. “Two perfectly good turk legs, ruined.” Without additional fanfare, the on-duty dishwasher bent down, scooped up the tainted meat, wiped up the residual gravies, and went back to work. ‘Daggone it,’ he thought; ‘I was looking forward to eating those.’

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑

Daesh ambassador arrives

A new ambassador arrived at the United Nations this morning, to little fanfare. Representing the ‘Islamic State’ in Syria and the Levant (Daesh, or ISIL), Iqbad al-Khyber plans to fight for the right to spread a caliphate over all known peoples of the world. “By referring to my group as a state, high-ranking members of the United States gave us legitimacy and allowed us to gain access to this international body,” al-Khyber said, updating his profile on the jihadist Twitter account he runs. Appointed to his position by a Daesh ruling body that is in the process of fleeing the Syrian and Russian forces liberating Aleppo, the ISIL ambassador finished taping his terrorist group’s flag to the inside of his hotel window then ventured out into the streets of New York for a look around. “It’s surprising to me that we have made it this far,” he said, his eyes dancing across the opulent skyscrapers and clothing boutiques rising from Manhattan bedrock. “If only the Palestinians would catch on and pledge to fight the sworn enemies of America while in actuality battling the Ynki imperialist and his blood-drenched cohorts. We are foreign outsiders who gained official American recognition within a few years by committing horrible atrocities and subjecting large swaths of central Asia to Sharia law, whereas the Palestinians, the Ynki Dakota Sioux, the Iraqi Yazidi, or the Burmese Kachin are native peoples primarily yearning to choose their own path in life. Who knew that all a group of people had to do in order to gain recognition as such was call itself a state?” After a few hours of aimless wandering, al-Khyber reached the memorial raised in memory of the 11 September 2001 attacks, where he wept in honor of the 15 Saudi Arabian hijackers who had died in the process of reducing the World Trade Center’s twin towers to rubble.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

drone-hairdresser opens

The world’s first beauty salon in which semi-autonomous robots perform most of the tasks opened today in a suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio. Referred to in popular culture as drones, partially self-aware machines will apply nail-polish, wash customers’ hair, and sweep up fallen clippings at ‘Automated Beauty’ on Chestnut street in downtown Rappsville. Until fully self-directed robots are developed that can all the work a living salon agent normally performs, the tread-mounted machines at ‘Automated Beauty’ will be directed by human operators stationed in New Delhi, India. “At first, we were worried about the potential safety risk of allowing machines fitted with sharp scissors to cut the hair of our many wonderful clients,” said Rasheed M. Blattersmied, 37, who owns the salon. “But after a few successful test runs and in light of the positive feedback we’ve received, we plan to have have six more robots up and running by early next year.” Affiliated Appearance Management Specialists International, a beauty-salon-worker trade union with members in 14 countries, decried the arrival of robots in a field long thought immune to automation. “Our affiliates will fight whitened tooth and sparkly nail against this assault on such a storied institution as beauty management,” said Theodora U’Unaha, the union’s sitting president. “This field is founded on artistic ability, not source code. What’s next - robotic wig-makers? Automated plastic surgeons? Sheesh.”

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on crushing ants

Him lumbering beast paused on his way across the sunken meadow, turning to see why his packmates barked. Ants were attacking their legs and paws, tiny things that stung hard. For years, the beasts had stood by while the ants multiplied - in hopes that the tiny threats would attack anything the beasts didn’t like. Now, though, the insects were latched onto the beasts’ own sensitive bits, tearing out skin, digging into orifices.

A juvenile beast went down, her pelt a carpet of stinging mandibles. In moments, she was dead. Outraged, the other beasts vowed to destroy the ants once and for all. Normally, the ants kept to themselves, but him lumbering beast had been stirring around in the stand of bushes were the crawling biters lived. Incensed at his audacity and upset that he had crushed many of their mates whilst in the throes of his stirrings, the miniscule moving mouths had decided to fight back.

“This is an outrage,” the beast bellowed, his voice hoarse and choking. “Cease this assault on my brethren!” He raised up on his hind legs, his broad back bathed in the light of a setting sun.
“You brought it upon yourself,” the ants cried back in unison. “You came to our lands and destroyed our cities, crushing the weak and the defenseless. You are reaping what you sowed - death, violence, and pain. We have too long stood by as you made your stirrings amongst the other insects, the weaker ones that could not or would not fight back.”
“But I was just trying to help my pack, to make the bushes easier for us to harvest!” the lumberer roared.
“You help no one by messing in our affairs, by crushing our people with every step. Enough is enough!”
With a sordid squeak, the ants launched a thousand and one assaults.

The beasts bled. And died.
Yet him lumbering beast - he who lead the entire pack - pledged he would continue to intervene where he saw fit. “I am exceptional, and this world needs me to show the way forward. So long as no one proves badder than me, it is my destiny to ignore the lessons of history and keep repeating the same mistakes with insane abandon. No one but my friends and I deserve to live well. Behold my terrible power, and shudder.”

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

grapefruit orchard hacked

Unknown assailants breached the firewall of SolDelicious Grapefruit Growers Ltd. (SDGG) this morning, installing ransomware to hold the company’s data hostage. Covering most of northern Florida and southern Georgia, SDGG produces more than sixty percent of the world’s grapefruit. Popular on all continents, the company’s sun-dappled grounds regularly produce delicious and juicy produce - until today, that is. “Nothing’s working,” said SDGG chief technical officer Dr. Gharnn Y. Badel. Laboring to get a cavernous packing and shipping warehouse back up and running, Dr. Badel expressed hope that the board of directors would pay the sum demanded. “We need to get this equipment working. The world needs our juicy fruits.” On the New York Stock Exchange, SDGG stock skyrocketed upon word of the breach. Rumors are spreading that the attack was a false flag operation initiated by majority-shareholding shadow corporations.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

a western find

A trove of letters dating to World War One was found yesterday in the ruins of an old fort. Made secure in the late 1600s by Yaelong tribespeople seeking to fend off Rus invaders, the area saw little conflict during the War to End All Wars. It served instead as a transfer-station for the intelligence wing of the Krukuv Anarchist Legion, a people’s army that defended the nation until 1956, when it was all but crushed by Warsaw Pact (Soviet) forces. Nestled in the western fringes of the Yiptlong massif, the Chach’rrash pass - where the letters were found - is a windswept, nightmarish climb through fields of boulders and loess beds alike. The pastoral highland regions nearby feature many attractions, among them prehistoric cave paintings, winter sports, and a number of winter solstice festivals. Due to the age and condition of the letters, few details have emerged about what they contain. Researchers at the Grigovian Institute of Cultural Studies, where preservation efforts are underway, hope to know more soon.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

den of many

Into the den of many lions shall this whorphan go tonight - will he find true voices any or just anger fear and fright? No one knows and none can predict how the rally will go down perhaps there will be book burnings over there in Hershey-town. Swiftly down a rabbit-hole of pageantry and hollow talk will he and his second venture with a strong but measured walk.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

skinheads reach America

Early Monday morning, a raft carrying around 60 members of various European national-socialist groups landed on the southern coast of Long Island, New York. Bedraggled but apparently well-nourished, the racists had set sail from the west coast of France in the first days of November, braving the frigid North Atlantic during its volatile winter season in what by all accounts was an improvised and shoddily built vessel. Welcomed by members of the Ynki president-elect’s Commission on Domestic Reawakening (CDR), the neo-Nazis were quickly wrapped in blankets and lovingly spoon-fed hot soup. Shadowed and at times assisted by the U.S. Coast Guard during the final stages of their arduous journey, the white supremacists are expected to take up leadership positions in alt-right community organizations across America. Their president-elect approved mandates include the subjugation of dark-skinned peoples, the erosion of civil rights and liberties, and the propagation of “half-truths and misinformation,” according to Randall T. Weissensieg, sitting chairman of the CDR. “We thank the heavens for bringing these proud Aryans to our blessed shores,” he said, “and hope for a swift return to the days when the white race alone shone brightly at the apex of world society.” The raft used by the national socialists will be displayed alongside the now-defunct Constitution of the United States of America, whose essential tenets the Ynki long ago abandoned in favor of short-term corporate profit-making.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑

dispatch 5 - sisterly affection

She was appalled by the seas of ‘Stump for President’ flags she had seen flying through the bus’s windows as she made her way through the small towns of central New Jersey. Erya Rovend had studied history and read or watched every snippet she could find featuring this ‘red’ candidate. In Grigovia under Soviet occupation, ‘red’ candidates had been party hardliners with little concern for the needs of the common man, hardliners who worked to make themselves and their friends rich at the expense of the rest of society. The Ynki, it seemed to her, were too falling for one of the oldest tricks in the oldest of books; they were enamoured with a supposed outsider who voiced simple solutions to complex problems, one who seemingly obscured or denied the truth about his shadowy past in order to win over the hearts and minds of simple people yearning for a better life. A charismatic and quick talker, Stump appeared to be gaining ground no matter how brash and offensive his statements, no matter how checkered and criminal his life had been, previously. ‘A flock of sheep will follow the strongest ram, even if he is a rapist asshole,’ she thought to herself as the bus pulled up to its assigned berth in downtown Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Erya retrieved her backpack and headed into town, distracted by the comparisons her brain was making between candidate Stump and Romania’s Nicolae Ceausescu, Italy’s Benito Mussolini, and a previous Ynki president, Lyndon Johnson. Each of these eventually brutal and oppressive dictators had taken power on promises of moderation and restraint but had quickly turned autocratic, their fascist policies of military intervention overseas and at home needlessly staining the good Earth with blood. It was still relatively early in the day, and so after checking in at the Grigovian Traveler’s mission and dropping off her bag, she walked over to the buildings in which the Declaration of Independence was housed. There, she wept upon reading the list of reasons that had compelled the supporters of that now-marginalized text to fight for freedom. To her, each reason in that list was something the Ynki regime had been doing to its own and to foreign people since shortly after the ink was dry on its Constitution. ‘The Ynki has come full circle,’ she thought; ‘he is the tyrant he once aimed to oppose, a belligerent beast that violates the principles he once held high, no better than the worst of mankind’s worst oppressors.’ Out of apparent motherly concern, a middle-aged woman sidled close to her, offering her a tissue. “It’s terrible, isn’t it,” the woman said, her dark-brown skin glowing under the bright lights illuminating the Declaration, looking over at the text and releasing a deep sigh. “Let it out, darling. We’ve been fighting for so long we don’t know what peace even feels like, anymore.” Erya sniffled, wiped tears from her cheeks, and said thank you. The older woman nodded in response, walked confidently out into the gathering gloom of a rainy Pennsylvania afternoon, and disappeared into the passing crowds.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

on elliptical effects

Eight months after purchasing it at a curbside yard sale, local resident Harry D. Bhagg, 47, dragged his once-prized elliptical workout machine back out into the street. “I have had a hard time finding the motivation to exercise alone,” the man said, the tendons in his forearms creaking and straining. The elliptical would be in his life for many weeks to come, however, as its massive bulk meant it was too large for the municipal trash collectors and too unwieldy for private services to pick up. After receiving a fourth warning letter from city hall, Harry D. Bhagg dragged out his wrench set and spent three hours tearing apart the machine, which proved to be the workout he’d long been hoping for. “Phew, I’m spent,” he said whilst putting away his tools. “Time for a beer.” He then proceeded to consume 2000 calories worth of hopped malt and frozen pizza, ruining his short-lived streak of healthy living and plunging headlong back into a vicious cycle of self-loathing, regret, and poor decision-making. “Such is life,” he said, climbing into bed, where he slept until his bursting bladder forced him to wake up an hour later.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

ᚈ˙Ɵ_ꜛ|•⚚⬌⚚•|ꜛ_Ɵ˙ᚈ

there sit in the grasp of a soft comfy loge two wonderful puppers two tail-wagging doge