Night Sky

James Bauhaus

We are not permitted to see the night sky in this cluster of forty mini prisons, but this insane policy of carefree, consciousless cruelty doesn't prevent us from lying in the dark and staring at the ceiling as if it was the night sky. We don't need the actual night sky to do as we usually do anyway: let our minds idle away the hours with random, often pointless, free-association. The last time I was unconsciously staring at the ceiling, the radio (National Public Radio news) mentioned that the soldier boys in Iraq need more of those million-dollar bomb-proof trucks. It turns out that about 30 of them got the hell blown out of them. After they get blown up, they don't bother scraping them for parts; they just fill them full of explosives and blow them to pieces, ostensibly to prevent them from use by "the enemy." Then, apparently, they race to the motor pool and get more new ones to hot-shoe across the sands. Now they need a bunch of extra million dollar trucks to leave behind for our Iraqi puppets to use in case Obama gets elected and makes the attackers come home.

I understand how it's easier to hide or excuse a track getting blown up than a helicopter shot down, and cheaper, but it is no brilliant strategy. I ask you; who is the ultimate winner in this game? Is it the guys who make bigger, heavier, more complex, more expensive trucks, or the guys who merely add more explosives to their bombs? Actual, standard, proven successful military strategy has for centuries been to spread out. Everyone who knows the, slightest bit of warfare tactics knows that you help your enemy kill you by bunching-up in front of machine guns, artillery or bombs. A better strategy is to use more, smaller, faster vehicles off the roads only when absolutely necessary.

Most night "sky"- staring captives' thoughts fritter away time by focusing on who is the most likely successful target for mooching. Mooching is a 24/7 occupation of most captives, particularly the dope addicts. They are easy to spot by the nicotine stains on their skin, teeth and fingertips, the coffee stains and stench on their teeth, breath and cup, and the various twitches, affectations, sighs and droops they exhibit, depending upon which particular type of dope they have abused most recently. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce their addictions: today's extra-"ignernt" youth wear their vices like a punch-drunk boxer wears the stink of failure. They tried to get me to support their dope habit by munching door-to-door for stuff they refuse to buy for themselves, such as soap, toothpaste, stamps, envelopes, pen, pencil, etc. When I realized what they were doing 30 years ago, I stopped feeling pity for them. I started telling them "no!" They stopped trying to mooch off me. This freedom from the constant, never-ending interruptions of the string of mooches let me write seven books, hundreds of essays and several treaties that help everyone.

The mooches are still making their rounds, like prostitutes searching for Johns, but I am free to think more important thoughts, such a predicting the future while most others daydream, rewriting their past. My midnight stargazing notes the diminishment and eventual death of the print media and how it affects captives. Every magazine, book and newspaper is finding ways to sell less at the same price, using bigger print, bigger margins, bigger pictures and lower-priced authors. They are all going bankrupt eventually unless they can slip off into the net. When they do, captives will be left with nothing except the perfect excuse for making the U. S. slave masters supply net to prisoners. Prisoners with brains are already working on this. Inmates with feces for brains are counting the dried paint drips on the walls of their toilet sized cages.

The night-sky time coincides with the never ending yelping of the people who are always demanding respect while never earning any by giving respect. Despite this, I am still able to plan and write good, salable satire, such as "War on Corruption" which will be out soon on "The Onion" and which took 4 hours to write and made $48 on its first sale. I also have time to write humor, such as how the current Republican gov't will steal the next election. Some obvious tactics will be the 11th hour lowering of gas prices through the use of various ruses and a last-second "terror" attack, the usual vote thefts, people rising out of their graves to vote, e-vote fraud, and even if the democrat does manage to win in an honest election, will he last long as the D.C Madame, who "John" book vanished the same day she was found strangled?

Speculating on the next method that the hereditary rich will use to steal us blind has always given me much pleasure, particularly when I successfully predict their next moves. It's not hard, it costs nothing, it's more fun than a crossword and it has even made me a few bucks when I wrote about it. Even better, I get to force these scurrilous politicians into addressing real problems and shame them and Their media cronies into behaving more ethically toward their fellow men. Prime examples of this can be seen on my website, www jamesbauhaus.org under "Smart Society v. Greedy Society," "Top Secret Agenda of the U.S. Millionaire's Club," "How to Combat Evolution," "What No Oil Economist Will Ever Tell You," and "Current Politics Explained," among others. Yes, my "sky" time is much more productive than yours, which is why I don't have to waste my days mooching crumbs from my betters. You use yours to daydream; I use mine to plan. You have tiny little thoughts; mine encompass the universe and beyond. You may catch up with me, but you will have to stre-e-tch that goober you use for a thinking machine. Make it clank for me!

James Bauhaus