D.B.Tarpley's Amazing Ass Blog-5/7/18

Yet another reprint from the past. Enjoy...

Greetings and salutations people and peoplettes.

I like big butts and I cannot lie. Well, that is actually not true; I am perfectly capable of lying. We all are. It is one of the first life skills we ever learn. In a way, Sir Mix-a-lot was telling a lie when he said that.

Sir Mix-a-lot is a bastard.

And you know what? I have never seen him mix one damn thing in his life. Here he is, implying that he is excellent in the kitchen (probably to get the ladies because we all know women love a man who can whip up a hearty quiche) and then he never publically displays his professed talent.

It makes me sick.

You know what else makes me sick?

Ebola.

I am tired of hearing about it. If you don’t want it, don’t consume other people’s shit. It is as simple as that. Or at least, if you are going to consume other people’s shit wear a condom on your tongue. Seems easy enough to me.

Batteries are always running out of energy. Then you have to go out and buy more batteries to continue with your battery related pleasure. And of course this running out takes energy. This could lead to an interesting postulate where you burn more energy than you get from batteries as a whole. You spend more than you get. And this of course could spill over as a metaphor for the common man and their financial situation.

Metaphor? Hell, reality. We all, most of us, over the course of our lives – spend more than we make. Think about it. How does that make any sense? How is this, a viable economic system? How does this sustain itself? How does it persevere? If everyone dies in debt then who is making money? Is the debt just a carrot, designed by some world global economic organization as is presented by the G8 summit?

Crazy?

If more money is spent than earned then there has to be an imbalance in the economy, yet this is the case and there obviously is not. It is a paradox; it both is and cannot be. Yet people spend so much of their life chasing the dream that this simple conundrum never crosses their minds.

I say them and their a lot, but I really mean we and us and I and you.

I like big butts and I cannot lie.

I cannot tell a lie, I chopped down the cherry tree.

Never tell a lie.

Bullshit.

Our very existence is predicated on a lie. The lie is that there is a reason for all this… that there is some design… that we would not be here unless we were required of something bigger…

Lies.

I am a writer. I lie. It is that simple. All writers lie in the pursuit of truth. A lie is like a prism, and when you shine light through it – then and only then can you see the truth. I like big butts… do I? I do.

Do I only like big butts?

Are there variables and preconceived notions present in the vaguery of the word ‘big’?

How big is big?

It becomes a case of verbal judo where the disputable becomes indisputable by virtue of context. That is all a lie is… context.

Is a lie good?

Is a lie bad?

What is good and bad?

Whose eyes are we looking through?

Sir Mix-a-lot may be a bastard but at least he made a statement. If you never allow your words to take shape, to take form then they state nothing. If you never open yourself up to disputation then what? You remain closed? If there is no possibility of fallibility then why even bother getting out of bed in the morning? Is this life a rigged game? Are we all pawns? Do we need these lies to convince ourselves otherwise?

I think probably yes.

I like big butts.

And I am completely capable of lying.

Until next time keep reading and have an amazing big ass day.